Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Kinsey Dec 2018
I feel so *****
Each time I shut my eyes.
While my love makes love
I imagine someone else every time.

Someone to call me names.
Someone to play games.
Someone who talks *****
And finishes without aim.

I feel so trapped and alone.
Each time I touch myself,
I close my eyes
And I’m no longer stuck at home.
I wrote this to vent some issues I have wity being married.
After I moved away with my husband, I receive several emails from ex-coworkers saying what they had thought of me and ***** things they wanted to do me and since then, my mind wanders during *** and I just used certain emails as sexting fuel.
Maybe I’m alone in that too.
Luna Jay Dec 2018
Because… you could look me in the eyes and tell me you loved me,
When I could still smell her on you.
You could lie, straight to my face..
Which torments a humans’ sanity.
You could hold me and feel absolutely nothing for me, and to me,
That’s completely spineless.
I did nothing to deserve the empty lies you filled me with.
A forever meant nothing more than a day to you, did it?
asmr
is that kind of thing
that creeps down your spine
and invisibly molests you
whispers are all it takes
to break
your sweet innocence
Don't spackle the bowl you nasty troll.  Did you think your mommy would clean it up?  Ah ah ah...don't say a word just grab the brush before I make you drink from your cup.
(Now words written some months back more urgent then ever)!

Trumpet call to action,
sans barreling totalitarian
tilt per prez zee dent shill faction
already wrecking ball -
even without Miley Cyrus - got traction.

Das boot Trump out-
(oust him to) Mexico or Waterloo
lip smacking gangs eagerly await
bully in White House and true
as Reince prescience fore tells poe
whit yawl get lucky strike
if keep Taj Mahal shaped shoo
fur deux hundred daze
starring scary motley crue.

╰☆╮I'm royal heir to peace mongering hoarders,╰☆╮
which comb hen might handy when borders
hermetically sealed, per heil hit lore
caw zing a furor with his stark orders.

Gestapo Re Don Dint (doomsday)
I dont wanna don a quack dynasty outfit,
or that of wood chucker
but...holy *******
kudos to heckler, who deems
steam roller Trump as one mean trucker.

Thus - for umpteenth attempt to post
with noah intention
to induce rabid reaction to roast
my *** (albeit scrawny just to be cheeky),
I duck rye America will burn like toast

if.... mister money bags reaches
full term finish line of presidential electorate,
he doth stick out pudgy leatherneck
with reassurance,
sans hiz safely guarded golf coast.

My anti Donald trump screed
WE MUST DO MORE THAN YODEL LOUD: all agreed
out....out...get...lest cruel nightmare har reed
thru legislation - ding ****
the witch's dead donald drake...freed

bigotry, derogatory hate, hence
out...of...here...without...his...coat...indeed
of...armor, nor golden golfing irons greed
dilly bought with monies usurped
unpaid/underpaid migrants MUST NOT heed
no passivity, who rightfully
feel indignant and teed.

I dune hot condone political measures
paws sauté fracas mane lion kapo - louse
jabbering indiscretion via his blouse
zee and breezy haughty snub nosed
air audacity, haughty, and superiority
on par with Doctor Zeuse
herewith continues poem,

I dashed off ala hill a re: huff - to douse
Auld don self serving trumpeting and gel lee
joie de vivre dystopian *******
inducing nostalgia fin d siecle
Barack Obama utopia of yesterday
now 45th lacking prez cred,

he doth thrive to squeeze gnarly paws,
around world asper hobnobbing
with bigwigs snatching grab-bag to carouse
invariably sparking angry birds viz
puffin that retweet his sewerage bilge -

strike horror tummy senses -
for antithetical opinions heed espouse
based on scary political fracas
and ominous nightmare whar mo' will grouse
to obstruct Trump accessing black keys to arouse

looming presidential nightmare
became real - gruff louse
he crushes sacred freedoms,
whence civilization goes off bluff
analogous to a rabid Tom cat
terminating the life of poor ole Mickey Mouse.

DUCK AFTER DUMP PING THE DON
air ring ma thoughts - no matter aye ham
juiced one twenty first century mwm ape
serves as genuine s cape
to fly (during pitch

black hours of night) and escape
burning effigies, where his jumbo jet,
a sonic boom stick bewitching like Snape
temporarily tough feign ruffled feathers sans ****
pay shuss selfish lust, when world
slides down behavioral sink into Old Rotten Gotham,
where he twill jape
at distant outlier from madding crowd a gape.

At sheer inanity trumpeting strumpets donning innate
prejudice and senselessness purr
blind faith toward self avowed demigod --
seize ***** viz Cesar

his hair coiffed and puffed like it whir
wind blown kickstart ting mobs to stir
paying bodyguards
to evict ruckus-causing murmur
oh...how the masses will let this country.

Go to hell in hand basket
and rack up stratospheric global debt
cause zing this one measly mortal male to fret
that totalitarian rule will force every man,
woman and child to march....het

two...three...four, while the billionaire
turns a third blind eye speeds away
in his foo fighter jet
argh...heavens to Betsy DeVos,
how did fickle finger of fate let

this pompous ***
vacuum majority votes across world wide net
to finagle vox populi,
and groom hooligan nasty ruffian thugs
with smashed face doughy as smart putty pet

bump ping uglies henchmen bedlam set
to create their own version of the tet
offensive, despite croup
bawling ashen faced deportees,

whose tears sentence innocent to po' ver tee
branding indiscriminately vet
so culled unwanted ill eagle "aliens"
labored with nose to grindstone

fingers to the bone vainly,
their American dream parched whence whet
long story short - pondering
rental circumstance will equal net

zero importance, and will be upended if this ret
chad, ewol, googly-eyed, gastronomic,
narcissistic bullish don will set
the spark for world war three -

via gone ah re: ha...ha...ha...to all vet
tureens within American crucible melting *** -
with backs whet
unless....Katrina and the Waves,
superman or Sabrina can oust him yet.
Cherisse May May 2018
Hold on.

Hold on for as long as you can,
Because this pain won't go away easily.

Hold on to whatever you can grab,
Because the sliver of hope I'm holding
Is slowly becoming out of reach.

Hold on to whatever makes you happy
Because the things that mattered
Slowly faded into the background,
Simply out of focus.

Hold on to me please.
Because I'm losing myself in the process
Where I'm trying so desperately
To find a reason to keep going,
Despite my mind screaming to stop.

Hold on please.
There's something I still need to do.

Please help me.
Nasty, nasty thoughts. Again and again.
Eve Apr 2018
This world is a very wicked place
Made so by nasty and wretched people
But it is kept so by the quiet and frail ones.

-fir.m
trf Mar 2018
All the flowers you left me,
when water went away,
died on my back porch.

These hours manipulate,
disguise the days,
smells like rain.

For every lucid hour,
weeping on all fours,
blistered bones felt the pain.
blistered bones felt the sore.

If you were so special,
would you look me in the eyes,
they're red like a dust bowl's,
allergic surprise,
forging our guestbook,
we invited the lies,
she said it was useful,
to hide in the sky.
Next page