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Kitt Sep 2023
When Charlotte Haze allowed into her home
A monster in unassuming white linen pajamas
Could she have known what he would do
To her daisy-fresh girl, lying among the lilies?

As she bathed in sunshine on the golden shores
Of Hourglass Lake, could she have known
Where his mind was, with the child sent away
Nuptial solitude invaded by his maddened obsession?

Before Mrs. Haze-Humbert left the world,
She found the confession he wrote on silk ribbons
Meant to tie around her neck and then the child’s hair--
Yet her first concern was of how she had been betrayed.

As Charlotte lay dying on the hot concrete
Did she wonder if she might have seen it coming--
Her demise, foretold by his fantasies
Of violence towards her, of brutality for the child?

Which her last thoughts cast towards:
The orphan she now left behind?
Or her own aching heart,
Torn with jealous rage between her love of the girl
And the infidelity of a husband gone astray?
ConariConnor Sep 2022
L'amour, L'amour, L'amour, L'amour!

Did I not tell you?

I am Carmen.

A seductress, a siren.

Singing what you want to hear.

Feigning love to entertain myself, even if I didn't want you.

But for them?

L'amour, L'amour, L'amour, L'amour!

I am ******.

Only in their arms have I no sense of being.

It's up to them to have me as who they want.

And if it's as ******, I'll be her.

L'amour, L'amour, L'amour, L'amour!

The rose once between my teeth

Now lies on your casket.

Prends garde a toi
Sasha Paulona May 2021
They said I'm too young to love him,
What would they do if I told,
I live in my free land of twenties
I heard boys whistle to my sassy moves
But they're too young to my wild wild heart.....

When you parked Scount bobber vintage style
Ripped t-shirt with leather field jacket,
I match my short waitress white dress
For your Latte moments at my coffee shop
Shinning like a god, So I go wild wild wild....

My boyfriend loves me more than ever.
He would sing for me all midnight.
We dance until we drunk on a cheap wine  
This love is pure. But god have mercy on me.
Because you're the one who makes me wild wild wild...…. Truly

I run away from this truth.
To flee from my own sin.
Hide in a pastel fairytale.
Which doesn't make me too jazzy
But I will not let you to break my wild wild heart.

Where my wild heart burned,
All ashes should be scattered
The color of the flames, painted the sky red and orange
Bitter but intoxicating smell of desire,
remains in the air
Then you'll never forget my wild wild heart.
I go wild on you baby................
Courtney O Nov 2020
Nymphets like me grow up,
and guess what?
I am not any scared or scarred
In a parallel world,
Angela invited Lester to her wedding day
and it's realer than death
There's nothing to heal - no sight of old pain

Am I really strong?
I am not sorry - I am not hurt
Even if I did break a few hearts
This nymphet got a job and she dyed her hair
She got to her destination -
but she's not done yet!

And I might have to leave
all of those nymphet, stylish things
no more daddies on the scene
but my inner fire still burns deep
let me resignify what I mean
when I wear my heart shaped glasses
when I feel all pink
that's eternal, it has no age or anything

It's true, I am not ******* anymore.
Isn't that a whole lot more fun?
I am a full woman now
and I am not backing down
(I always was this, waiting to come out)
So I look in the mirror,
and my inner nymphet eyes back,
"you're doing fine, I am proud of who you are"
Carlo C Gomez Mar 2020
The language of Los Angeles
gets lost in translation.
Even the rain clouds
drop their contents
with an unfamiliar accent.
The peculiar way
she tilts her head,
the distinct way
she crosses her legs,
are every bit incorrect.
The uninvolved way
she sits, steps, speaks,
alludes to her lack
of the irrepressible nature
surrounding her day.
"The rest is rust
and stardust."

She is quite

There is no turning of the shadow
under a European sun.
The silence of her heart,
the stillness in her limbs,
is barren, muted,
her leaves brittle.
In the breezy part
of the afternoon,
her core lay hollow
and unfelt,
regardless of...
He wakes her,
demurely she makes
an effort at soixante-neuf,
arbitrarily she bends for him.
"Her dream-gray gaze
never flinches."

She is quite
Nothing wrong with being American, this just illustrates the differences in cultural behavior and belief systems.

Inspired by the poem "Wuthering Heights," by fellow HP writer B.
Deanna Dellia Oct 2019
She’s the girl at the party
reading ****** in the corner
instead of conversing the idle
she never learned how to read books with blank pages
She has a heart of gold
it’s just a bit broken
Can’t you hear it?
It’s beating for you already
She’s looking to be soaked in safety
not just comfort
She thinks she may find it
in your dry sense of humor
She wants you to untangle her twisted mind
She’s searching for someone to understand
the evocation that is her soul
that she’s a black hole
yet a ray of sunshine
That she desperately yearns for attention
but burns under the spotlight
Beautiful and tortured like the sea
Don’t judge her for the too many sips she takes
She’s just trying to forget
the things she never deserved to know
She’s using liquor to put out the fire in her brain
No one ever told her that it just helps it grow
She doesn’t want to feel alone in this crowded room anymore
She wants to run through the forest chasing butterflies
the way she always has to feel alive
She’ll make a paintbrush out of her own hair
if she has to
and paint her words on the moon
just to feel special for a minute
something she’s never been able to prove to herself
Because it’s hard to hear her echo
underneath the ocean
even though you can see her reflection in the sky
She’s the girl at the party
reading ****** in the corner
Don’t be afraid
Stars can’t shine without darkness after all
Hurry, before her lungs fill with water
Won’t you listen to her song?
She will learn the chords to yours too
Accept her because she’ll always accept you

- Unicorn
Tati Oct 2018
Why hello my names ****** and I really wanna die
I’ve been telling all my friends about it
They said I should try
So when I got home I slit my wrists and blood shot really high
And when I was done I got so scared that I just sat and cried
Oh my
I really wanna die
I wanna die
Cuz I got nothing left in my life
All i dream about is suicide
Cuz I wanna die
They say it’s a crime
How could someone with a face so strikingly divine wanna commit suicide?
But I do
I do
Because you left me my love
And I’m nothing without you
So I cry
Abby May 2018
they call me a nymphet
my narrow hips budding *******
my glowing skin rosebud lips
in the sun where i rest...
older women are fat and cold
with porous skin and dyed hair
they haven't their blades like gold
salient and bare
they haven't their thighs like ivory
of thin ivory are mine
i'm british and brattish
they're just fine
they call me a nymphet
with my schoolbag hanging
from my frail shoulder
decadent and delicate
please just for a while
not a nymphet
but a hurting child
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