There is no point in living this life unless you find someone or something to love. A person who you would want to spend the rest of your life with or an occupation that you are passionate about.

Ironically, the famous song of Bon Jovi is also true --- too much love will kill you. But maybe, this should be seen from a love recipient's perspective.

We all want to feel loved. Especially when everything else hates you --- like Math, music, or your very own biological family who you live with under one small damn roof --- finding love is really just a lucky event. However, it will soon overwhelm you.

You would think that you do not deserve the joy and happiness that you feel when you are with this person. Soon, you will think that he is too good for you. You might also think, "Why would he even want to spend more time with me when I am such a mentally unstable, emotionally broken, and pitifully toxic bitch?"

Be careful what you wish for. One might not be ready to receive the love that is being given to us. It feels as if it's sucking life and love from this dearest person and you have nothing to give. This person is so full of love and you are full of filth (well, at least you are not nothing). And it feels you with guilt that you can never make the person feel the same. Soon, you would think that he would walk away --- the best person with the kindest heart, the best love of your life, the fucking best --- because you have sucked and licked clean his jar of love and you gave nothing in return. Funny thing is that you don't even ask for him to love you. He just does. And that becomes more painful than ever.

Having that thought in mind makes you just want to leave to prevent the heartache and the burn out which the love of your life will suffer from. But you do not have the strength to break up with him because that kind of blow would be too hard that you would painfully hurt him. It seems as if having him burned out is the better way to "break up" with him because at least you think that it would be his decision to leave. It gives you this sick comfort that he left and you have confirmed your filthy self-concept. You have confirmed how undeserving you are and proved that you are the worst person to be with him.

But, he still stays. He still stays despite all your filth being thrown at his clean self. You have shown most of your darkest thoughts and he still chooses to stay. And it hurts you more because it would now be too hard to break up with him and hurt him because now you care more and this person has become the person who is preventing you to quit life. He is a hindrance between your wrist and that small, sharp blade that will surely deliver what you think you deserve. You clearly still do not have the strength to let him go that quickly (sick selfish wimp).

Now, you are stuck with a dilemma and all you can do is cry your eyes out. It's the only cathartic way that will allow you live another day for him until the day he gives up. It seems chaotic now. Everything else is falling apart this one man stands in the midst --- all clean and smiling --- offering you a nicer future. You are not sure whether to take the hand or the blade.

But, tonight, you take the hand yet you keep the blade in your pocket. Now, you carry it around while you walk with him hand in hand. And now, you just made your situation almost impossible to solve.
bret 2d
As far as I remember
You came in a dream
Washing your blonde hair
Causing quite a scene.

No words left to swallow
No swords left to fall on
I thought you looked nice
But what the hell do I know right.

Cold september evening
Under friday night lights.
A family affair
A quiet kiss goodnight.

A bullet through my stomach
Coming through my spine.
Feeling dead as air.
Feeling cold as ice.

Never learnt my lesson
Not sure what it was
What I was supposed to learn
What I should overcome.

Anytime I’m anywhere
I always see the same
Pictures on the wall.
Things I gotta take

And I’d beg for your forgiveness
If I was certain I was wrong.
But somewhere in these pages
Is my secret siren song

All that I have
Is all that I shared
I pray someday you hear this
I pray someday you care

I know it can’t be me
I think I understand
How I could love a girl
And how she could kill a man.
coming soon
Izzi 3d
you are not the first to wear
the same beckoning, calling skin
your fine edges annulling my roots,
       and i don’t think you were the first to
Kill.

    Kill what once was
    a ticking pocket watch, an echo
    heard only by one
    now ticking for fallen ears.

It does hurt to see things die,
but there is a certain satisfaction
In having washed hands
repost from dA from 5.28.18
everything is painful when everything is at stake

received daily deviation on 6.8.18
It's killing me
To try not to think of you

It's killing me
To undo things i used to do with you

It's killing me
To try not to miss you
Did i kill you too?
alanie 3d
i dont care that it destroys my liver
it also destroys the pain
Bryce 4d
We give guns to our sons,
to protect our land
to protect our souls
to protect our goals

We have guns in the truck
guns in the car
in the prison bus
guns just for fun.

guns at the airport
guns on the plane
guns in the air,
guns in every state

guns at the armory
guns at the bank
guns for the money
guns in the safe

guns on The Hill
guns on patrol
guns on the street
"guns that kill"

guns on the gangs
guns in the trains
guns at the range
guns on the stage

guns on T.V
guns at big screens
guns at the table,
guns on the scene

guns on the plains,
guns in the mount,
guns in the desert,
guns we can't count

guns in the south,
guns from the west,
from coast to coast
guns everywhere!

guns on hand
guns on the boats

Guns across           ---          the whole wide world.

Guns in Mosul,
Guns in Iraq
Guns in Japan
Guns in Slovak

Guns in Chicago
Guns in Bhutan
Guns in Australia, Malay, and
Taiwan

Guns in Korea,
Guns in the ocean
Guns on the shores, guns never broken
--or sold or banned or destroyed or stolen

No token
prayer,
no
sign of devotion
no tears
or weeping
or candles
have spoken

for the thousands dead, the thousands snuffed dead

Guns in the policecar,
Guns in the open

Guns on the street,
But no, we can't own them

Our children are dead, dying and born
Into a world of guns, and guns that won't go

we protect our world, our money, our loves
with guns

So why don't we do so?
With the children?
Our sons?
alanie 4d
there is a lethal dosage of benadryl
it would take 26
50 mg pills to kill the average adult
sounds like a disappointing way to die
over dosing on something meant to help you
but i guess even good things have a limit
I've spent too much time recently researching the lethality of suicide methods and drugs and shit. I think I have lost it.
She stares at the clock while shaking
He might not like what shes making
She checks last nights bruise is hidden
Not answering his call is forbidden
She does everything he tells her to do
If she doesnt he beats her black and blue
She believes she deserves what he gives her and the fault is all her own
He wouldnt have had to punch her
If only she picked up the phone
She hears footsteps in the hallway
And she knows he's almost there
She stands to greet him in the doorway
And pretends that she still cares
There's a tiny stain on the carpet
And she cowers on the floor
He doesn't know if shes breathing
As paramedics knock on the door
She lays in bed in the hospital
Unable to see what he's done
Hes sorry, and she forgives him
But she buys herself a gun
When he wont eat what she's making
Instead of cowering and shaking
She protects herself with the trigger
And puts a bullet in his brain
She'll spend a lifetime in prison
But he will never beat her again

Copyright Julie Murphy 2018
Feedback welcome and taken on board
We escape the confines of the flesh
         through the skin of the dead
for we read unseen words woven
                   like a tapestry on them.

But you can only read what you
have vanquished, and momentarily
it will tell you the future of
                              8,409,600 breathes.

But once the last one expels you must
read upon another for the future has
                                          repercussions.

Only the dead can tell you the words
of the future as there's was taken for
                                my continuation.
I have read many words but soon
                       I must read them again.

My future out ways yours, for I must
breath and read the words of a future
                                      you'll never see.
Within womb universe’s birth
nebulous placenta housed
seeds of life and white lily
billions of years in future

mid-wifery lady Madonna i.e. Gaia
twill abort... cancel... fail
cosmic amniotic fluid infinitesimal kernel
unknowingly intimated mother earth

giver of extant flora and fauna
unleashed after big bang cosmic explosion
galactic matter ala Jackson Pollack
across void

impregnating fecund celestial field
embryonic entities
germinating gamut multifarious
floral fauna spectrum

primordial soupy miasma
evolving millennial timeframe
distinct organisms Homo sapiens
master exploiter oblate spheroid

usurped emiment domain
epitomized goddess of fertility
silent ovation humanity
predecessors ovulated

promulgating tentatively robust
quite pathological population
within clustered cloistered
substantial redoubts

mollycoddled, nursed  
swaddled by ancestral
gracias moma mia
figures, whose maternal role

guarded vulnerable progeny,
outfoxing invisible World Wide Web
building inexorably linked network
indomitable strength

against wild things
guaranteeing subsequent generations  
flourishing webbed unbridled success
prompted contemporary bipedal hominid

chance genetic dice throw
origin of species weathering travails  
horrendous maternal sacrifices
inducing  acknowledgement
unknown female forebears!
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