making sushi on the small table at work by myself. i can hear Emi complaining about something to guys at the big sushi table. i assume it’s about the day before when she got break late n was working oven long time. 10 minutes go by she’s still complaining chingchongchingchong(!) and no one is really saying anything in response. one of them comes over to my table and sighs and shakes his head. i couldn’t understand any of it but i feel bad for them.

on my break i call my girlfriend back she asks why i don’t have a girl yet u fucking idiot why why wa wa wa i told you wa wa wa. i tell her i will have at least one tonight.

The last worker goes home and i am closing the final bits of the kitchen with Emi. We don’t say much because her English sucks and my Japanese sucks.

We lock the doors and walk our seperate ways to our cars. Goodbye Emi. Goodbye Johnny. As she’s getting into her car i sneak up behind her and give her a nice thunk to the head. I handcuff and gag her drag her to my car and lay her in backseat.

i pull into the driveway of my house and my girlfriend is pacing for me smoking a cigarette. she comes up like a fiend says you got one? i say yeah. i pull into the garage and she follows me. we take Emi out carry her to the basement. my girlfriend is lecturing me about how this can’t happen again. how she can’t go weeks without one how if i want her to stay with me i need to — I give her a nice thunk too.

my advice in relationships is bitch less and moan more. if people do this they will die less.
A W Apr 2
Finally, tears were shed.
There was a heart that bled.
An able body that could not be held.
Calling out to the silence; cold.
Shaking a hollow breath.
There I lay beneath.
Your feet raised to step over me once more.
I can't bare the pain in my core.

No longer do I feel my life is mine.
I don't feel like myself anymore. He took that away from me. The fear I constantly have feels like I can't reach out.
Alan S Bailey Mar 29
All of the sparkle and sweet
And joy in the world is like
Any pain killer,
It's wrapped around all of
The endless misery and fear,
But still it's no way out for life,
Empty space filler.
Cory Williams Mar 23
Three stories tall, and a city block wide
I created this castle with no place to hide
"The World's Fair Hotel", you might know it well
Located in Englewood, my own private Hell.

I hired and fired through its construction
To fully ensure only I knew its power of destruction.

Once it was built, I hired employees
Female and blonde, my favorites of playthings
Under conditions of insurance policies
Of which I would pay (but I was also the beneficiary)

Soundproof suites so sweet to my ears
With gas lines to asphyxiate you - Drowning in fears
Or my secret hanging chamber
And lime pits to change you from human to stranger

I took pride in stripping you to bone and sold you to medical schools, made professors seem fools, all of you dead and alive at my disposal

All in all, 200 was the proposal, I confessed to 27 and later to dying wish is that I could have done it to you.
The sun goes down
And the wind gently flaunts.
I was hiding behind a mysterious mirror,
where I looked at myself as a stranger

Much inquires like questions in my body,
Should I run out of this world,
And reconcile the past?
To stab the knife in a soul of misspent youth
where blood goes blue, that’s what I hoped for
A freezing corpse without a breath
weeping like an unborn child

The mirror I hid behind,
Revealed the truth I have to say.
My soul does not belong to me,
But God is the owner of all

If you were afraid of the day of judgment
I would kill you without concern
God would not punish me,
The killer was the mirage inside mirror
Hamad Mar 15
Eyes of the killer
Eyes of the beloved
Eyes of the assassin


Magical eyes of the killer
Magical eyes of the beloved
Magical eyes of the assassin


behind the mischievous eyes of the killer
behind the mischievous eyes of the beloved
behind the mischievous eyes of the assassin
Willow shade Mar 2
In the middle of blurry senses
within indefinite tenses,
You can find me
thriving beneath your glow.
your shine will blind me.
In return,
sincerely holding your hand
and following your vivacious voice
that I am aching for,
I will take you to places
you haven't ever been
even once before.
As a sightless poet,
flying through all hinders
I will lead you to heaven,
a journey of senses,
lands of eternity in endless art,
I will cover you with my heart
from any dangers to protect
and I will make you the perfect,
the precious woman
of nihilistic poetry!
Becoming aware
of the magnificent healer
In suspense and in a stew
all poets will ask:
Who is that persona - the nihilist-killer?!
Nazanin Feb 20
My wrist was red
And my neck was blue
You were my favorite killer
And i would die for you
Now the wrists have healed
As new scars grew
And the time never heals
What i've been through.
This poem is dead.
A true lady of mid-twentieth century perfection,
Everything about her is prim and proper:
Her soft skirt, baby blue and fresh from tea,
Her pristine blouse, white lace and tickling the neck,
Hands folded in her lap and angled to heaven.
No one would know.
She isn’t fresh from tea with Mother and Grandmother
She’s fresh from playing fast and loose
With three dead men.
She is perfection for a young lady
And ideal for a murderer
Because you’d never know what lies beneath what you see.
This poem appears as part of a collection. Read it in full here:
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