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Gale L Mccoy Sep 22
how to i remove the topper
stomped on top of my head
why do i see through
lime stained goggles
no amount of elbow grease
unscrews the top
nor clears the glass

when were these
peanut butter walls built
the thoughts like gnats and flies
pile in layers to the wall
clear away one and
another grows grotesque
like an apartment
paired with depression

all i want is a clean slate
to build a new
Sidara Jul 25
Tomorrow always arrives
With its splendid shine
To make hearts feel alive
Filling them with its  eternal light

New days come for good hearts
For those who see the light
But not for those who steal it
As darkness  is all they have

But I don't want it to arrive
For me, tomorrow can't come
To brighten my life
As of it, I am done

Tomorrow can't come for me
For my empty heart to fill
My heart is not to be here
Rather underground with the filth

Dark is what my mind is
But my soul is not
A soul is what I miss
I don't want to know where is at
blackbiird May 27
i still taste your sticky sweet nectar on
my lips from the time you released your
seed onto my perfect *******,
then you traced your fingertips onto
my precious flower and tasted my sweet honey, watching  it drip from your fingertips
as you plastered your mark into my sweet flower--
my breathing becoming shallow from the sensations, thoughts scattered , close to the threshold before a beautiful release of ecstasy .
A perfect deflowering carved into my memory.
redruMAndTea Apr 18
People are utterly filthy.
Rags besmirched black and undertone red in blood, and ****,
and tears, and thrown up alcohol bought cheaper than a
***** on Seventh.
Oh, tell me about it.
I saw a dead person once.
Grime under fingernails and teeth carved in gingivitis--
filth of a body really; but still I cry for this begotten soul
until my own hands grow
disheveled in the hue of
sobbing women.
Women are always sobbing.
My good friend with fishnet tights cries and
cries when the bottle breaks and
glass becomes embedded in those brown
fingertips of hers.
What is worse?
The stench of rotting flesh mixed with Persian White
dripping from a needle three years defective,
or the scent of sobbing women soaked
lily-livered in sweat.
With an honest tongue, politely I exclaim:
I’d rather sit with the flesh of the dead man whose filth is rotting
away with the mist of dawn,
then the crying pupils of thou who breathe in
white wind from the heavens
and exhale clouds coated thick
in a thousand vile songs.
Jenna Mar 7
Crosses on the windows
Why must you divide the view?
The outside world is not divided into sections
It is instead, one giant pane

Being objectified by humanity
It's future ***** and unclear
People may be hired to clean you,
but the major issues are stained

Beyond recognition, so filthy
I wonder if we will ever
gaze upon a clean and open
window ever again
I hope we cure Earth in the near future.
A Simillacrum Jan 20
How clean is clean
when the cleaning began
from the floor of a sunken ship?
Barnacles grace the walls in the place
of family, or a familiar face.

When filth is a given, and given
in projection to the overtly empathetic
as a matter of course, why implore?

Because you don't implore,
you explore as an entity
reaching for a meaning.

The question becomes,
do you fight, or do you invite
the coming cessation?

Even with a gun, and a view to ****,
the power the bullet affords
would surely fail to thrill you.
The best charlatans paint your hands red,
as you're sleeping in bed, preemptively.

Let the liars lie, let the builders connive.
Uninterrupted access to their own confines.
To Narcissus, the cool nod is colder than the knife.

Let the liars lie, let the builders connive.
When the company you keep requires the sacrifice
of your authenticity and your reality, just leave.

It'll never get good. It'll never get great.
It'll never be worth the investment.
Marsha Oct 2018
you tarnished
the beauty
of my soul
with your
filthy touch
what once
was flawless
is now
ruined
and smudged
Shady Teddy Sep 2018
The time has come, for me to fray
the long lost fortune peace and joy
and i peep all around to see a ray
to give me hope and stop to cry
in the face of dispair, i will still try
it feels like hell and i need to fly

am about to burst and am full of thought
then if she left to me its draught
the touch of her hand and a kiss so hot
swimming basking and the fish we caught
fear and doubt with love we fought
she always escaped to what we ought

then came the insighter and he seemed brighter
taking her out and treating her better
Using a phone when i used letters
things were hard especially with a competitor
forgot me complete together with her litter
it seemed to her there was nothing sweeter

after utelizing the better of her best
he disposed her and then left
she had some pain in the chest
when she came in serch for rest
she was mine but we had to test
to avoid being hung like a nest

A drop of blood and a little buffer
recalled how our children would suffer
if through ignorance our life was vapour
my test was a line and my partners twice
why would life be so very  unfair?
her episode was so shortlived

yet she left me huge a burden
to the kids we had i was both parents
just be cause she wouldn't heed
even doctors advice on adherence
all in all i had to say goodbye
coz she was mine for the time we spent

what i am now going through
is a fruit of ignorance and disobedience
my urge my prayer,
that not one falls into the same
it's so easy to say that,
lets avoid the idea of shame
by first escaping the blame
by keeping ourselfs tame.
Ophélie S Sep 2018
yes,
breathing filth hurts
we've known it far too well for comfort ;
clogged hearts

/

this is not opposites attract but
polar sames —
you scrub your hands for
the sixty seventh time this week and
i scrub your footprints off the bedroom floor with
ritual sanctimony —
the house reeks of turpentine but
it's the smell of c l e a n

/

yes,
it goes just like this
the repeating loop of a washing machine ;
mirror stains

.
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