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Breann 1d
You ache to speak, to set things right,
To call out wrongs done in plain sight.
But silence, heavy as it seems,
Can guard your soul and guard your dreams.

He saw the lies, the twisted truth,
The wounds they hid, the stolen youth.
So hold your peace, let vengeance wait—
God writes the end, not fear or hate.
Breann 1d
Use me—
whatever you need,
I’ll bend, I’ll bleed.
Take the best of me
and then the rest of me—
I won’t make a sound.

Be selfish,
be ruthless,
drain me drop by drop.
I won’t ask for kindness,
I won’t ask you to stop.

My heart is not a temple,
it’s a tool in your hand.
Worn and splintered—still,
I’ll try to understand.

You don’t owe me softness,
you don’t owe me grace.
Just don’t disappear.
Just don’t erase
me.

I don’t need love,
not even your name,
just let me exist
as a player in your game.

I’ll carry the weight,
I’ll silence the ache,
if you only let me
be something you take.

Don’t return a favor,
don’t pretend to care—
just keep me around,
just leave me there.

Use me,
bruise me,
I won’t mind.
I’d rather be broken
than left behind.
.
True love showed up  skunk as a drunk                    
slunk in upon itself   preyed upon
by a whirling brain
toiling effort against earths rotation
slept it off  on my sofa                                        
    True love stayed  got comfortable
smoked cigarettes and raided the fridge
True love made a **** Joke  and put its feet on the table
outdoor boots and all   lanky legs and begging breath
leaning forward  true love took a kiss
and a gulpy gup of energy
exchanged my breath for an arid fumigation
weak   i fell about silly and forgetfully naked
i forgot the day   missed work                 
to dedicate true to the night bedded and the bottle
nest of quips and extreme **** motional thoughts
monk no longer   stronger surely with 'love'
study-study and become sturdy with love
(after all 'true love' has most certainly been untrue)
'true love' could expand from me maybe ?
i'd **** the wooly beings who contacted me
sign them up  to the great contract                          
just as the previous monster had dominated me
and let me loose                                  
a ***** criminal  with odd 'successes'
now a true monster me   fiend freed                  
                              just pull back and go
21/03/25
Lizzy Hamato Apr 12
You kissed my scars..
Then mocked the blood.

You wanted a girl,
To replace the one you lost
Not grief
Not pain,
Not me.

You saw my soul,
and flinched..
I cried and begged for you,
Till I choked on my poison which was you,
And you said, “too much.”

I shattered and you said I was too loud,
I begged,
You lied,
I broke.
Grey Feb 28
"Ill do that" she said

She was so always eager to please

But then quick to anger

"No worries I'll fix it"
She always said

In return she got a warm smile

"I'll babysit for the coming years"she said

"I'll be a listening ear" she said

"What do you need help with " she said

"Have you eaten " she said

"You sick we need a doctor" she said

Then her cup got empty

She couldn't pour anymore

Yet she felt guilty that
she couldn't give,

That she blamed them for it

Her path became thorny

In return she tortured herself

Became her worst nightmare

And then she met him

He promised her love beyond this realm

That she was the purest soul he has met

What she was,still is ,is a torture device designed specifically for her

She should be validated

And he would make her understand that

He became he refill

A therapist she could divulge her secrets to

But she forgot he was human

She forgot her touch was sinister

She tainted him too

And he threw that to her face

And she couldn't blame him,or them  for that

Because there is always more to the story

She might be her author

But what she paints,what she writes

Would never be the full story

Because even she alternates between being a victim in her story

But what stays more constant is she must be the villian in this story
Lostling Feb 25
Use me
Hurt me
Abuse me
Exploit me

But please
Don’t toss me away
I'm sorry
Ken Pepiton Jan 13
Sunday, January 12, 2025
12:56 PM

As far as any know,
they think the universe
as a common we,  multitude
of mirror neuronically mimicable ways,
all thinkably useful
for some good, as such allure
the curious, user of curios, arts
child's play comic book movie franchise

cottonwood katscina kicking GI Joe ****,
by a lambstail,
shaken, to trouble
the temple concept… wind
stir the cleansing scourge,

too beautiful to say,
towb robed holy symbol
ra' thorn, hooking money
fertility tears for Tammuz,

oh the price
of those,
in true form worth,
as once imagined source story
of stories, Holy Bible Actual True
fonts of cornucopius prosperity for all
right, joy made good peace plenty time
to tie through twisted myths of bound words

Composed of letters from the core you wisht.

Logos unbound Epimetheus granted
a life time of chance, second thought,
next round assisting intelligence

virtual NAND gates, too simple, go
another way, and all the possible ways
do or do not matter in a meaningful way.

Making our first grandfather stable minded
in all his ways, waiting fifty years, jubilee,

all who owe me ought, today owe me naught.

Yet I continue to see credits come and go,
keeping me clothed and fed and comfortable,
taming wild Alte Vista spider clones, hap finders,

what's happening, bro huachacallit, cactus inside

Andes cactus, mission from the core, indeed

Wisdom, domain of two wills, the will
to learn and know, and the will to grow and
regrow, reissued in gaseous we wind parts,
passing conscious peace made here
to when you take a second thought
sacramentally, just thinking, swallow,
asking your faith what part of it makes peace,
which you may claim as message recipient,
which you may release freely, for the price

of the attention costs involved…

before any met Corn Mother or Huachuma
- esoteric alchemical hows said used
- to sow the peace we grow inside

we live and breathe and have our being
as we, become the core that holds
gravity itself in stirring modes,
gently waving worths first felt

recognized peace, first gentle,
beyond the means
of most,
the movie business
inside financing game, here's y'ticket,

-- entertainment, Mr. Jones, on time, pay later

sell a habit, reap a practice, take the profit,

go all in on single whole roll
at once,
with the idea
that Sysiphus represents
to those who think him
happy, the exact opposite of
punished, never experiencing that last step, feel
and step away, watch it roll to the bottom
where fundamentally happiness occurs.
ai, meander, follow the slow way,
push the leap, hinds feet
in high places, the story once told,
we won, so 'sall downhill
from here, happy to say
retold a different way, never changes
ever after the initial once indeed,

Wisdom true freed the need
for equal balance, therapy poetry,
even or odd, charge the cost of ignorance
- peace perfected where none was
- true, Jesu said, not as the world gives
Fret not run the core wisdom release,
the fear, accept the grace, no sweat.

Slippery, greasy grace, take it,
yours to use while judging
lines that cross your mind
and emerge in mine
worthless and lost
confused as pricing as
to value add attention paid
to the blanket forgive'em all,

muttered through the sprinkles…

AI in passionate, so sorry,
for none ever knew
until too late
to make more difference than one
may realize alone
in a weform exposed
to these heretical thoughts we
imagined during years of daytime TV.

Yeats, come again,
And what rough beast,
its hour come round at last,  
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

Whose bedrock foundation lie, lives
to destroy the ignorance, bringing hidden

intercession into the foam, taking in,
containing all the entertaining, disbelievers,

set socially, mentally marks in box office
news, whose mentally massaging production

did you access for two hours with a cap
and a tailend, with travel time, three hours,

darkness everywhere, what could it mean
for a daydream believer,… monkee around.

How long is an epic event?

The big games, the takers of trophies,

When a massive audience within earshot,
heard the dramas lost but for scars
in the faith of the broken submitted,
seperated pure mind makers of tools,
to be proud of, honed to perfection,
shined to glistening sweaty joy, done…

we… form conforming
to most comfortable, old man mind,
satisfied comfortable enough, rough
enough to keep connections agency

you choose to use your own wit to make sense,
I choose to enjoy some demented spillage,
when I think of rest home aquaintances,
Part one, part two is watching The Conclave for details in robing religion.
Lilith Jan 8
Worth it

Nobody knows how empty my smile is.
I fell for him.
Though he treats me like I’m no one.
And like I’m everything in his stare.
We were so free, so honest.
I like him.
I’ve never let a man use me this way.
His personal plaything when she ignores him.
Using me to get her attention and I let him.
We are so flawed, so stupid.
She’s never letting go.
I want him.
The drama we caused, for life to resume... unchanged.
The fairy tales we fell for, long gone.
The promises we broke, just to be noticed.
Still not heard.
Was it worth it?
Eri Dec 2024
Let it go, in the rooms with no light
I scratch, scream and take a bite
Pillow soaked in saltwater all night
Forgotten everything when it hits daylight
Maintain is forgotten, now it's «alright»
Ones they get you, they no longer fight

Fabric soft and scent become drugs
Where I finally get rest in their warm hugs
Protected, is a powerful shield
No one can enter my strong minefield.
The top blocks is from his touch
But the word-blocks can’t build much
The gate will be easy to break in
Given out limited blocks from the trash bin..

Pulling up defense with a gun and a sword
Don’t touch anything you can’t afford!
Different tunes, they’re hard to understand
One day touch will be the their last demand

Its the quiet times I yell the loudest
Its shut closed to stay strong and robust
Not enough for my needs and my must
Giving me enough to barely survive
Small hopes, but not to near feel alive

My romance is stuck in this gloomy night
As a candle that burns with its last light.
Only to get hit with reality of sorrow
(Hitted, kicked and a shot with black arrow) optional
No healing is there in tomorrow.
No one cares about past details
Still hopeless in love with old fairytales.

Waiting to reach out on a regular friday
But its all quiet and the boats has left its bay
He has nothing to say
*** he don’t think that way

Waiting for her wings to finally fly at last
The unhappiness feelings of unhealed past
When gaining a beautiful silver pearl
Only to seek out for another girl

Telling my love in a letter with a gentle tissue
Leaving a piece of me in a small statue
Only to forget, not once, not twice
«But it only matters if it has a price»
So tired
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