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As I slowly drift into the abyss of your love letters
I slowly drift out of reality
I can see roses in your eyes
It calls me
You want me
You call my name
To share a kiss
But know I give only you my bliss
It’s been pluperfect
You say to me
“Nests are hosts to birds, rocks to fish, eyes to handsome boys”
My dear beloved
Pluperfect
JJ Inda 6d
Pale light
shines down
reveals the blank page.
Nothingness; an opporunity
- infinite.
the fool rushed in,
fiddled with some words,
adding up to nothing.
That’s the worst of it;
light wasted
and ink
and paper.
Teal hair.
Teal hair.

I feel the need

to

stare.

Teal hair.
Teal hair.
acacia Nov 5
something here is going to have to go.
maybe it is the look in your eyes                          [you are wrong!]
or maybe it's the fact that you don't wanna let go       [i know you!]
tell me something i haven't heard before.     [don't be mean.]
everyone has the same opinion. you seem to just always want your way.                      [how could you? don't you remember all of the things we've been through? don't you see me standing in your way?]
                      yes, and as i can see, you're still in my **** way.
  [will you please?]
                                             your time is almost over.
     [that's alright.]
                                  right?
[right.]
is it?
                                        [you should be ashamed.]
                     you don't have to tell anyone.
[no one wants to know, anyway!]
                                  when i die, cry to me at my grave. we'll see if i care then.
                    [you're always thinking about yourself.]
                                       you don't want to trust anyone else.
[don't you want to help me?]
       always thinkin' 'bout yourself.
                          [you don't love me!]
always thinkin' 'bout yourself.
more inspiration, the strokes.
clever Oct 19
i want you to ruin my life
and even though i know i'm wrong
i want you to make it all right
alone Oct 16
We need to fix my posture
We need to get a mask
We want to get several masks
I want to exercise for at least thirty minutes every day
We need several acceptable clothing pieces
We need to draw at least once a day
We need to at least think about a poem everyday
At most write… several poems
We want to reach Gold in League of Legends
We need to go outside
Get some sunlight
But the sun isn’t going to be around for a while…
So I guess never mind?
I want to become a better animator
I need a part-time job
I need to become a more active friend
Hanging out with the people I consider… friends
I need to raise my *** appeal
I want a girlfriend
We need to be a better person
And most importantly
I must remember to die
Because there is no life without death
That’s about it
Good luck :D
Not that anyone cares but these are my current goals in life
...
kind of
alone Oct 16
I'm too weak to be alone
I'm too weak to be with others
But this doesn't stop me from tossing myself into fires
And I do so every time with a smile
A ******* smile
I'm too naive for this
I'm going to be drunk
I'm going to get even skinnier
I need to look out for me
I need to stop being so… me
This might make one or two people sad
But I don't care
Being hurt
It ***** so ******* much
I can't smile
I can't cry
I can't do anything
I want to drink
I want to get high
I don't want to live
But most importantly
I don't want love
Or be loved
So please
*******
the second and last poem of anger toward my plight
hurting ***** man ;-;
me?
I've lost count of everything I've been called.
Some think I'm as audacious as a spectacular lion.
Others find me jumpy, skittish. Like a coal-colored kitten in the middle of Manhattan.
Maybe, I'm just a cold-blooded snake, full of venom, rage, and aggression.
I'm not quite sure anymore, really.
I could just as easily be a magpie, an omen of death.
However,
I know I'm something
much
much
worse.
I'm
me.
And I am the worst creature I've ever met.
Even as adults we are still learning things about ourselves. If you would have told me that if crossed I devour, I would have laughed.  I have never been a mean person. It seems that things get built up within us and we can only take so much. Once we get to a certain point some of that anger must be released.
Normally, I have the ability to release in a positive way. Ha…with you I wanted to destroy you. Not take your life. But hurt you until you begged for mercy. They knew that I was not a nice angry lady. I could be quite dangerous if you ask me. Someone one asked me, “do you get back at people when crossed.” My answer on the spot was no! I did not even think that way. Yet once you pushed me it all came out. I scared myself….even though no lies were told no life threatening danger was to unfold …cringing pain was coming. As time went on…I mocked you by calls. You answered as if we were friends. How could we be friends after all of the things that we just went through? I was not your friend.
As Cardi B says, “Be careful with me.” It seems that you did not heed the warning.
You went undercover hiding from everyone. Months later popping up in pictures with people that have a venomous, vengeful dislike for you. I no longer desire to harm you in anyway.
By the way that you are living you are harming yourself. I am going to take time to work on myself. I don’t like the fact that I am not a nice lady when angry. But while I am working on me…my advice to you is to stay away.
Not really mean...who wrote this...different sides to everyone ...love heals all wounds. -FLB-Sweetlemon
Julian Delia Oct 4
My head feels like a visit to the cranioscopist’s,
Like someone bored through it with a drill.
Inflamed and ill,
Like the ego of a billionaire philanthropist.
Flashbacks of “You”,
Got me off my tracks and feeling blue,
Stumbling around in pain, without a ******* clue.

My neck is aching,
My body is shaking,
My ******* soul feels like it’s breaking.
Volcanic unrest, putting my heart to the test,
Got manic anger strapped to my chest like a suicide vest.

I’m the spectre of truth, a hard hitter,
Like that last, smooth drink that fails your liver.
A lone wolf whose claws are made of words,
A man grown bitter and whose heart hurts.

My legs feel heavy and tired –
Is it now accepted to not have energy to even exist?
For that certainly isn’t how we’re naturally hard-wired.
I don’t know how to accept the illusion,
There seems to be no solution –
I look desperately, amidst the confusion.
I look for similarly empty eyes,
For those who do see the lies.
The only truth left is this;
He who murders lives, and he who loves dies.
Ye semi-regular dose of distilled emotions.
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