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"So, we were having this conversation, and all of the sudden...well I couldn’t believe it...

"Oh, she went on and on about fields of daisies or something like that... She talked forever!

"Ok, ok...but first I have to build it up, so you know, you can appreciate the fullness of the moment.

"So we’re sitting there, having this conversation, and she just perks up...

"Yeah, she like...sat up in her seat, eyes bright as a light bulb, and she looks at me in this weird kinda way...

"I don’t know what way exactly, it was just weird. Like I was Brad Pitt or somebody like that.

"...Or someone like that, God! Are you gonna let me tell you or not?

"Anyway, she looks at me and just blurts it all out.  I mean she talked about it nonstop for an hour. I was thinking, Hell...we’re wasting time talking...

"No, I’m serious. It was an hour at least! After she finished I asked if she was serious.

"Well, I just wanted to make sure. Then she gets this ******* look and I thought she was going to slap me or something. It was like my asking her totally ruined the moment. It was a little freaky. I thought for sure she was just going to get up and leave like I blew my chance.

"Yeah, might have been better if she did. She just looked at me, not like earlier when she thought I was Brad Pitt though. Now she was just dumbfounded or something.

"You know like...she couldn’t believe I even had to ask after what she had just asked me.

"Yeah, you’re probably right, I am. But look I can’t know, after Jennifer and all, I can’t just leap out there without looking. I’ve got responsibilities to think about.

"Oh, whatever! I am not. It’s not wrong for guys to think about that.

"I don’t even know why I’m talking to you!

"Well...of course, I said yes, what do you think I’m a total *****? She’s way too pretty say no too."
I remember sitting in the living room as a kid. My mother insisted we get a wall-mounted rotary phone with "an extra-long cord" it stretched from kitchen to living room couch where I overheard many' a conversation about everything.
Poetic T Mar 2018
Woeful are the tears
           that a word was not
                 pondered upon.

Just neglected,
          or ignored in haste.
Words just painted over.

Never seen in true virtue,
         just sentenced to ignorance,
         due to inattentive readers.
When you work ya **** of on a piece and others ignore it out of ignorance or because life is a tidal wave and your swimming against it, but no because sometimes you cant read everything others eyes linger past. Reading all the worst of poets for what they are. Emotions, lives & all in-between. I despise the well if ya haven't read mine or commented I'm drifting past. This isn't why we write, its because words, syllables are our calling to each, a calling some never hear or understand why we write so much.
elizabeth Feb 2017
Angry tears stream down
My face as I fight to control
My demons, my thoughts,
And my body.
Because all I want to do
Is just slam a fist into the wall
And curse the world.
But I can't do that.
I mustn't make things worse.
January 31, 2017
Pauline Morris Feb 2016
God.....these devastating events have to end
I'm close to snapping,  no more can I bend
I need a season of rest
I can no longer be stretched
stop, Stop, STOP!!!!
This life of mine makes Hell look like a vacation spot
Ben Fernekees Nov 2011
you tell me to let you know when i care,
but your the one who always glares,
you think yout the only one that sees,
that we aren't really ment to be,

stop lying to me and lying to yourself,
because your pictures no longer on my shelf
or my phone no matter how much you mean to me
I just wish I could erase you from memory
It's a special kind of ******
what makes you shake like this
and yer feelin' quite certain
that you're seein' red curtains


"*******!" you exclaim
and then you pop a vein
and you rage and shake a fist
because you're just. that. ******.


In the end it ain't your doin'
to the people that yer screwin'
and everyone can go to hell and
hey! — yer just the one to tell 'em.
© 2011  J.J.W. Coyle
Maura Feb 2015
You're a real *****
just to let you know
and I don't want to snitch
but you're such a ******* *****

just  because you're rich
doesn't mean you own the world
you're making me go up a pitch
because I'm so angry that you're a *****

people call you a witch
and now I know why
its because you decide to switch
from being nice to a stupid ****** *****
Seriously. You are. This is a passive aggressive poem.
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