Despicability is the foundation to their life
For them it is intrinsic
Genetically encoded
Simplistic
Poetically eroded
Reprehensible at best

     Unscrupulously callous
     Secrets and facts, they conveniently
     ingest
     Distorted byproducts, they release to the
     masses
     To aid their campaign; a forked tongue
     fest

Pathetic and unapologetic
A beast armed to the teeth
Imported bypasses to increase the flow of police
A weakness and an act,
They so vehemently attest

     Harvesting greens off the branches of
     the people
     Pockets engorged with wads and folds
     Crushing blue collars at the lower levels
     As they sit atop their pyramids of gold

Today they sip champagne
To celebrate their reign
Tonight we'll skip being humane
To feed them excruciating pain

     You've incited this coup with ill-thought
     deterrents
     Now herald the arrival of the scourge
     Down with lopsided governments
     Tonight... All we would topple! Tonight we purge!

Justin G
ryn

Dancers can't have eating disorders.
We are meant to be thin.
We are made this way
We are made to hide food
to starve
to throw it up
As long as no one sees us
As long as we can fake it
Cause as dancers
We have to fake it till we make it
And we aren't going to make
it if we are as fat as pigs.
People don't like watching hogs dance.
Don't worry the mirrors will tell us if we are the size of a stick or a stump.
So no I don't have an eating disorder
Dancers can't have those.
We are created this way.

{SM}

It's simple, simple simplicity
You can't regurgitate
What you don't eat.

I sometimes get one of those headaches
that lingers thinking it's gone but it's not
I feel there isn't much I can do but purge my words
onto my paper asking the lines to take it away
I need to put these emotions somewhere
I have been silent too long and I'm hoping my mind
stays on track and the head ache goes away

change is inevitable
the world is spinning
but I feel lost in time
trying to make sense of things
but there was never sense...
only feelings....I feel too much...

the wind may change directions
and blow gray shadowed skies
over me blocking my concentration
driving my mind crazy

I try so hard to change the way the wind
is blowing but my thoughts leaves behind
many questions and yet sometimes I don't
even feel like answering with "why" or
"I don't know" yet those thoughts continue

I take in a deep breath and the gray
will fade making things better
I just keep moving forward with my chin up
its never easy but everything will be alright

its a brand new year yet
sometimes I just want
the days to last longer
but times does fly by
with no way to slow it down
no matter how hard I try

I float through time just
like birds soaring the sky
I live life to it fullest yet
changing with each step I take
the steps that I make as go
are for my next generation to follow

I am still able to keep my flow
through every word I type or write
I can feel just what and how I feel
it really inspires me for this I know
Yes I do, I do really understand
I must be patient for it takes time to heal
I can tell that all will be ok

change is such a good thing to see
for without change the Earth just might
stop its spin; then where would I be?

I wish that I could
purge you from
my mind.

This chronic cough
has no mercy

However,
I'll let it take it's toll on my body,
because it's only doing me a favor
by purging every last bit of you
out of me

Each new gasp of fresh air I take in
is a breathe of yours I breathe out
and with that
comes your "love" that I had
accidentally swallowed whole

Maybe that's why I'm choking.

I have this aching, gnawing hunger,
it just won't seem to pass.
Why can't I ever find a fix,
the fullness never lasts.

I binge on *** and purge with shame,
it's become a sick, twisted little game.

I was always taught that holding hands,
is something from a lover.
How can you kiss my head, and nose,
but say you don't care without a stutter?

Since when did staring longingly into eyes,
become a mask or some disguise?

What is the truth, tell me, does it exist anymore?
If a guy kisses me, holds me, caresses me,
then shows me the door.

Is there a realness, does it exist?
These things cause so much bliss.

But they're just a fix, to numb my hunger.
For REAL love, affection, lust, and desire.
What is real affection, is it out there?
This ******* is causing too much to bear.

I'm starving, I'm aching, please stop doing this to me.
For my heart is too big, too big for there to be no love to be.

I'm told the only way grow
over you, is to peel apart every memory;
I must reach down my choked-up
throat, and feel around for you inside
my broken body - find the figments
of my bitter fantasies and watch them over
and over

[the night we walked home
at 3am and shouted lyrics from Snow
Patrol at the scarecrows in the
graveyard/ the night we ******
three consecutive
times/ the night I decided
I would let myself fall]

until I suffocate and hate you,
all the same; the best-tested remedy
is to become a practicing
******* - a professional
pain analyst,

and so I'll gag myself
cleansing my body from your
presence, I'll pour my liver out
if only to pry apart the
bargains;
I will ruin every black and white
filmstrip if only to say
goodbye
for the last time

I stare at myself in the mirror a long time
Wondering why I'm here and not out living my prime
The girl under this make-up, lost and forgotten, she always wears this mask that covers her mass destruction
She destroyed herself to make herself feel loved
She starved herself
She purged herself of everything society saw bad
She covered up her insecurities with concealer and mascara
She put on a smile to cover her frown
She covered every bit of herself up and suffocated her slowly
Now the girl in the mirror, she's always remembered, but the girl under her body and personality mask is now lost and forgotten