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lupush May 2014
Your name has meaning not to me
for I want the bat and not some trick
you use to hide your nightly guise,
the one I’ve come to
idolize

There’s many reasons you and I
have chased the cats and not the mice:
the rats have trouble keeping up,
the cats will scratch you but with
love

I don’t seek the face behind the mask
for I want layers upon layers—
upon dusk
to hide a face that might prove
you’re just a man and I’m a
fool
After some heavy DCnU reading, and my eternal fascination for the Joker, I’ve come to have much Batman-related inspiration. This time in particular, about Joker’s adoration with Batman and the fact he never cared about his real identity because, for him, Batman isn't a man with a mask but darkness itself. I strongly believe that Joker's head can't handle the fact Batman could be anyone but... well, Batman.
Violet Hooper May 2014
Do I look pretty? Cause I haven't been eating.
Let me back up, because I swear it wasn't intentional
it's just that it makes me angry
that I have to
and it makes me angry that you care
and it makes me angry that it makes me angry
because its all I ever wanted anyone to do.

I'm angry at school, and my friends, and my dad, sure.
but the worst of all is that I'm angry at myself

this one song plays in my head
but it's just one line repeating
again and
again
*I'll be hanging from a rope, and I will haunt you like a ghost
margot and the nuclear so and so's
M Clement Apr 2014
I guess this is more procrastination than anything else,
But writing is writing, amiright?

it's funny, starting a line with no capitalization,
you know what else is funny? Misspellings.
But that's not really what I was going to say.

There's something about pieces of my past that drum up passionate writings.
Congrats to you, if you're reading, you're a muse of somesort.

I was reading 1 Corinthians today.
Workin' on dat daily struggle, that getting closer to Christ grind.
Grinding on the cross.
hashtag: blasphemy
Conjures up images of Jesus at a dance

Back to the point: Paul urged us to stay single.
I find that so weird, but in reality,
It's no weirder than desiring others to fill our hole(s)

There's a **** joke there somewhere...

I'm being crass for the sake of it
An ***, because that's what I make of it.
I write, I writ, I wrote
Am I right? This rite? Is it rote?
Wordplay

Really though, stay single, for the sake of your relationship.
That's what Paul said.
A married man or woman is tied down to this earth ever more than those unmarried.

Is that why I'm single?
I ain't even mad.
Even if I do miss the touches,
The hugs
The intimacy

I know that in it,
When I'm in the thick,
I miss my relationship with Christ more.

Where's the blood
Where's the body when I need it most?

I am the one locking myself away.

Eucharistic struggle
The Communion struggle.
That last line is a good summation of this piece
If this is a poem, indeed.

Maybe I need to make some lines that rhyme for the sake of the time you've spent reading this journalistic entry for the sake of my last century and maybe this one coming.
I'm bumming around for cigarettes that I don't smoke, for **** that I won't ****, for a joke that won't end in any punchline you find funny.
Baby, honey, I need to leave; you need to see the light of day, and I need some time to pray, because everytime I'm with you I'm suffocating. You're pulling, and there's no more rope; you're the trickery, and I'm the dope. And every time  my flesh was in yours and you were on me, I knew what we were doing couldn't be, and that what we were doing wasn't for me, but all for you. I'm all for you. I'm never not.

Except when I'm not.
It felt like something that I needed to be said, and it felt so good to spill it out on paper. I hope it reads as well as it felt to type.
it's ok Apr 2014
you're the perfect beat in the song
together, you're knotted with a perfect memory
you're a could have, should have,
you're a wish and a dream
and to trace my fingertips across your skin
feels like heaven and bliss running through me
head to toe, and sometimes at a breaking point
but I'm not even sure if my words mean anything
because we can spend all night, all day, all year
talking. laughing. fighting.
we can spend forever in ecstasy, thinking it'll never end
I will still have my doubts
because you're a couldn't have, shouldn't have
just a wish and another goodbye
SG Holter Apr 2014
Body (recommended)
A certain grasp on time, space and the concept of kindness (pending)

Proper footwear, underwear and silverware (essential, recommended, no)
A cat on your lap of the kind that will always be kitten that sits in the window
And watches the world while you sleep just to -since it can't speak-
Never mutter a mjau about all that went by,
So you watch it at breakfast on SKY (surprisingly likely)
Notes (optional)
Marly Mar 2014
i'm not sure if i like how this website has a black and white atmosphere.
i always thought poetry was supposed to teach me how to see in colour.
after all, a world of black and white is limited.
however, there are endless shades of grey.
he was the boy who made me see colours i never knew existed, just the way the words that flow from our mouths bring new hues to this planet.
the sad part is, they disappear as quickly as they come.
cycling.
what goes around reallllyyyyy comes around.
such is life.
Matthew Mar 2014
Carpet to the wall
***** colors dancing shapes
Gosh my back is sore.
My hope is that this is my last sad poem.
I really hope it is.
I want to be able to write poems about love and joy..
and Happiness.

Why can't I seem to find anything of that nature these days?
I hope I will.

I don't want to write about how you've hurt me,
lied to me,
cheated me,
deceived me,
and disappointed me in the way that you have.

I want to write about how in love I am,
how full of relaxation I am,
how content I am,
But I'm not.

I hope that this is my last sad poem.
I really hope it is.
I want to find a certain someone.
Who can help me with that.
For the long run.
*Always.
As if breaking up with someone once isn't enough. And to later find out that you lied? ****.
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