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cait-cait May 2016
you are so far gone,
that
you might as well be
six feet under...
buried alive
or only half

alive
and still buried...

and i will spit
snot on your grave,
and clog my ears with dirt
and flowers
grown from your decay

say one more word,
and I might choke on
your fire
I don't think fire fits but nothing else does either. I've been triggered so much lately I want to die
Ron Gavalik Apr 2016
When in doubt
spit on the sidewalk
and stare the ******* down
This procedure works
on violent men
It also works
on your own
madness
Just a thought.
Styles Apr 2016
Living a viva loca
Drinking ***** and coca
On a fly *** sofa
Getting money like a broka
If life is a *****
Then I’ll pok-a-
hole in her game
Stop playing
I ain’t a lame
******* step out of line
You gotta put them in their lane
Just because both breathe air,
It dont make us the same
I’m different in a lotta of ways
Thats just putting in plain
What you been saving your whole life, dawg
I bet, I spent that in a day
These dream chasers
Chasing dreams
I dont let’em get away
There levels to this ****, dawg
I'll meet you at the top on my lowest day
And apply pressure like a break away
Moving up like stepping stones
Any Obstacles that step in
getting crushed along the way
Martin Narrod Dec 2015
we are not human
we are                     beyond
all that fits into strands of dna
we are a phone call away and just at the beginning
writhing with excitement that plays like anxiety. we are the nervousness
that turns the body right left and left right left before introducing us to becoming asleep. we are the narrative to the lives of others. our passwords don't match but I refuse to let popular radio dictate our lives. we've ****** ourselves red and sweet, cauterizing our moral wounds with *** and sensuality. we scuba dove in the bedlam of ***** intrigue where I drank the pulse of your fingertips into mid-morning blackouts.

I don't know what you do, but I bleed foreign tongues. I mince words and reconnect them, the Swedes would be proud. Inside the ribs, beyond our teenage skin, between us we are always something better going unchecked but never unnoticed. we have been enlightened, summoned, and have three unchecked voicemails that we will lie about listening to should we ever be confronted about it. I don't ever want to be readdressed by consciousness, I am unhappy there and here

                 the Power lines
Under

unto us both
we may never meet those quondam girl and boy bent by prurient looks
spit dollspit wordplay lust event language poetry writing chicago sanfrancisco chicago forpenguin musedandamused sensuality angst anxiety precipice
Connor Exodus Dec 2015
There is a fascicle
Of anticipation in
Labour inside my
Brain – where
Hope can spurt
And spit through
Chance. Though
I see it I can no
Longer nurture
Matters of disgust.
There is a funeral
Inside of my eyes
Which sit like the lazy
Cup of tea on my
Table. And it whispers
To me in the warning
Of a night so coldly
Scarce of cheer.
Open to interpretation.
Connor Exodus Dec 2015
Spit on me with your mind
And dissect me with your eyes.
Decipher this very self, less
Orientated being that simply exists.

Plunder your skin around
My thoughts without effort or
Worry. Everyday without knowing,
Show harshly, I do not matter.

Lie inside of my ribs, caged
In a blanket of spring. Warm
And numb in a cornucopia
Of love whilst it howls outside.

Please, stop recalling time as
if it is the oxygen you breathe.
We have until the last sheep
verbally dismembers me cold.

I feel I only have a little left.
Yet only a fraction has been
Taken. Hurry, find me, and
allow me to climb out of my brain.
Open to interpretation.
Chalsey Wilder Nov 2015
I hope you ******* die soon
I won't even show up to the funeral
To spit on your grave
It's not near a shame
Because of your name
So angry
Aidan Nov 2015
I can learn to love me,
even when I am sick of this tight skin.
My mind is playing enemy,
please look at me.
I keep cursing fantasy and reality-
folded photos reeking of sin
Crazed tongues keep me from
loving my skin
Triolet
rhyme scheme:
A
B
a
A
a
b
A
B
kaylene- mary Oct 2015
You always told me about the colliding
stars between my lashes, the way they
looked burnt through your chest,
because stars are only raging souls in flames.
But where there is fire,
you will always carry gasoline.

And I hid match sticks beneath
your matteress, preparing my fingertips
for the day the room went
black and you wouldn't let me
hold your hand. You had petrol between your teeth instead of spit and traces
of flint under your nails.
You stopped comparing me to the sky
and started kissing me like
ashes and smoke.

Fairytales never taught me that dragons were alive, fairytales taught me
that they can be killed
and I learnt at a young age that I was
never going to be a butterfly,
or Snow White
or Jasmine
or anything other
than the pretence of Sleeping Beauty,

but I guess this way its more like Fading Tragedy.
I am the embodiment of the phrase
"love hurts"
and I've never been more than
the hurricane on your windscreen
that you're trying so desperately to
wipe away.
Wren Djinn Rain Sep 2015
Here in Holden I forget all the memories acquired in sun
They all tumble and I could stop it if I wanted to stop
Pouring ***** in my head as a song before bed
Two-****** whiskey drinker caught in the present,
Displaced in time. And another and another til
she upgrades to doubles at no extra charge cause
she loves how my face 'round means she's safe at least
til I leave and she's sweet and pays me in drinks I
don't need as bad as money and a stable place.
Here in Holden B-Block I play games with my memories
I tumble hard and I could stop it if I wanted to stop
Too fun to open a door and fall through the floor
to the blackness of past as you stand from your stool
to play pool in the back as you can't keep your cool
so you retreat. Always retreat.
Here in Holden, underground, I **** on the memories
I made under sun now
bathed only in krypton light
scaring cats from the cans
behind the brush as I
rush to get it all out.
Spit it all.
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