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Supa 7m
They call me evil
I’m Superman’s little punching bag
Golden Eye’s shooting range
Anyone look at it from my view
Suicide Squad was a joke
It didn’t represent the struggle of a villian
The struggle of my life
And everything around it
Let’s start with a story
I was a ***** baby on the street
Momma shooted ****** 10 inches deep
She overdosed when I was 13
And my daddy was a good man
But I was messed up
He paid for my school
But I was hit and bullied
Cried to my dad but he didn’t care
He left me in the streets when I was 17
Why’d you do that old man
He couldn’t handle me and all my problems
So he ran away
Every job, every college
Turned me down like an illegal
Like I committed some sort of crime
I learned technology myself
Sometimes stealing books from the local library
That is how my evil started
But all my knowledge on tech accumulated
Until I was something more bigger than myself
I stole parts from the tech store
I trained myself to be a kung fu demigod
With a side of overpowered
And a pinch of passion
I built a robot
And my goal was to get revenge
On the people who doubted me
And all the people who hated me
And destroy them all
I killed them
Every owner
Every bully
I squashed with my robot
And then those heroes came along
At the peak of my hour
And that is when my head was out of the clouds
And it came back to reality
I presented my case
But they wouldn’t listen
So now I am here
In state prison
This is the villians view
The side of story no one sees
Every wonder the villians side of the story?
sara 5h
Yellow jade
                                                           through space and time
                                                            ­                                         my efforts
                                                         ­   dissipate
                   into depths
                                                          ­                       Oh, lying mind
                                                            ­                                  have i grown yet
For the sake of love
Let us build a fortress anew
and forget the ruins we used to dwell on.
Reveries that made us linger
more than we were supposed
promises made,
Tears shed,
And hearts torn apart.
Let us imagine the next chapter has arrived,
to paint our bleary minds pitch black
or a promising white.
Since dark is a vivid variation of light
And innocent eyes will take note of it.
We need to talk to lilies more
and see the devil in each sip of champagne
swallowed without a taste.
We need to cry more, and write of love
to quench the **** that echoes our pain
thrice more than it ought to...
Opinions on love?
It feels as though we’re hanging from the edge of a cliff with  icy water churning over sharp deadly rocks below us. Though normally brave, we find ourselves terrified due to the slow crumbling of the cliff beneath our fingertips. As the cliff crumbles, so does our resolve.
The rocks begin to call out to both of us, quietly at first, but gradually increasing in volume in time with the decreasing of our strength. Alluring false promises of safety and security emerge from the water and eat their way into our minds.The impulse to cover our ears becomes almost unbearable.
Yet, we bear it for to cover our ears would require us to let go! To let go would require of us our lives! Lives that until this moment we disregarded with blasé indifference. Lives that were now all that we had.
We listen as the cliff slowly crumbles with nothing to cling to but the hope that we’ll make it out together. The biggest of the rocks whispers something to her, too low for me to hear. Though at first she resists, eventually she responds, “what is it like down there?” The rocks, overjoyed to finally receive attention, are eager to respond, eager to fill her already tortured mind with even more horrendous thoughts. I attempt to shout over the rocks, to redirect her focus, but the complicit wind is quick to steal my assurances of a better ending.
It is too late!
She begins to join the rocks in the seductive murmuring. Soon after the wind and water join to create a melancholic serenade. While the rocks were difficult to ignore, her voice is impossible. I close my eyes, take a breath, reach one hand out to her, and together
we jump.
before i knew it
you were wearing nothing
but your jewels
and the silver moonlight
like artemis in the wild
oh, just kiss me sometime, softly
dream of where we go
when the body dies
If you want to know why we ended it's because he fell out of love with me.
He said I couldnt make him happy anymore, and it shook and rattled my brain so much the nurses during the night shift at the hospital knew my name.
You were kissing him while I was at home sobbing over him, when I was craving his skin on mine you were the one making him breathe fast and heavy.
While your toes were in the sand sitting with him and your ******* sunburnt knees, I was going mad writing about my aching love for him.
He wanted my body when you were on the west coast, I withheld myself from him.
It wasn't my soul he missed, it was how I would make words flow from his lips while I used my hands. The depth of his indifference devoured me and made me feel like I was drowning.
Therefore, no I do not want to be your friend. No I do not want to grab a coffee with you. You have this ludicrous idea that I owe you an explanation of why we finally walked away.
It's because you took him one step further from me, and he never looked back.
The boy I always write about, my ex, his ex girlfriend from 2 years ago reached out to find out why he and I broke up. This is everything I wanted to tell her but didnt.
Scattered thoughts
Scribbled Pages
torn with feelings.
Numb bodies, fingers
entwined, splattered
with ink
of the bygone 'RED'.
Trepidation, fatigue
of living
for one more day.
Uncaring of all that,
I used to be....
Poets embezzle,
hidden truths
with metaphors
derived richly
from the depths
of unseen pain
and cover up
the remnants of
the act;
with a smile
that covers with tact
what they've been feeling
for a long while.
Vinca 3d
Could have been a masterpiece,
Could have been eye-opening,
a breath of fresh air.

Endless possiblities.

Could have been coloured and fiery,
Could have been subtle and graceful,
the result of years of perfection.

Endless possiblities.

Could have been all,
Like an empty canvas I was born as.
But I have been me.

The canvas is stained
tainted
spoiled

The canvas is stained forevermore.
Vinca 4d
I know I can sulk,
as much as
I want to
as much as
I can.

So I do.

Nothing changes

It's the same pretty mistake I do,
Intentionally, foolishly.
I might wait a different outcome,
I might not think at all.
Over and over.

So I do.

Nothing changes

I know I can scream,
as helpless as
I want to
as helpless as
I can

as helpless as I am

So I don't.

Nothing changes.

It's always the same outcome
that life serves me with a grin.
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