#collectors
Oh?
So I'm a nasty *****
Oh?
So I'm a lunatic?
But I've been the lollipop that has been licked?
Oh?
So I'm the ******
Even after you betted on my suicide, ***
Why would I respect my elders when they didn't respect me?
Why was I the one interested in your essays?
You're the victim? バカ!
You're not like Mika!
Come on! Come on! Come to America with your samurai sword!
That's what you swore!
Square up *****
Square up with your Chinese "nasty *****
Can't walk, old fat man?
Use your samurai sword
Oh? I'm a fat *****
I'm a fat *****
After sending you
A picture
Of my body?
My hourglass body?
The one that you can see ribs?
Wow... Should've stuck with Cinderella
I'm 48.98 kgs
Yet you claim I'm 65.77 kgs
That's a stretch!
You haven't told me your weight
Are you that insecure?
No?
Then why are you gatekeeping it?
Yes sir
I'm built like a man
And you may be built like a can
What does this prove???
............
Oh?
Your friend likes me?
Crazy
Next time
Just tell me I'm ugly
Next time
Just tell me I need plastic surgery
Oh? My art *****
You make a tutorial out of it?
Expect me to keep up?
Okay! This looks exactly like my Shadow!
If not, just watered down!
You just wasted my time
Oh? Telling me you've been wanting to choke me?
After you strangled me twice?
Maybe even thrice
Now you're going in for more rounds?
Crazy work
Oh? You're going to explain to me how *** works at the ripe age of 7?
Excellent
Oh? Did you expect me not to get at least somewhat hypersexual?
Oh? You're going to twist my nips and say that tickling my *******
I was only uncomfortable
Kept telling you to stop yet you didn't stop
You thought I was laughing which provoked you to continue
All nice things
May come to an end
Mar 11, 2025
Mar 11, 2025 at 11:12 PM UTC
My mother collects things
Like a leopard collects its spots,
Like a moth gathers dust on its wings
and a poet collects his thoughts.
Nov 18, 2021
Nov 18, 2021 at 3:03 AM UTC
"Who would love such a
toxic conundrum?"
I whispered in the early
hours of my existence,
starting as a lukewarm
substance,
gazing into my pristine heart,
my empty core.
Then the fate of life saw to it;
to stain my skin and give
my emptiness a name;
Hurt,
no.
Ignition, match,
or maybe their hands.
I can't tell when those things
had a distinct identity
and didn't just seem to be
my heart twisting and
my core splitting,
soaked in chemicals,
all mixing.
There are cigarette lighters
everywhere you turn,
they look like brown eyes,
rough hands and vinyl collectors.
But I realize I am something
to be inhaled;
choose dying over pleasure,
give me your utmost devotion,
touch me as I burn.
Dec 31, 2016
Dec 31, 2016 at 5:52 PM UTC
I do not know what I am feeling,
I do not know what I am feeling,
but I feel like an abandoned
collector's case left in a corner
to rot or do as I please without
so much but the guidance of the wind.
But the wind is not stable
and therefore neither am I,
I cannot tell whether I'm
imagining this all or
seeing it with my very eyes.
Reality and fantasy have
merged into one and
I can no longer tell the difference
between a dream or everyone's nightmare;
I die in both.
I do not know what I am feeling,
I do not know what I am feeling,
but if my soul's exterior had any texture,
right now it'd be peeling;
no it is not beautiful and it
cannot make fake roses
like an orange peel might.
There are no flowers here,
only a garden of late nights and tears.
Outside, spring is evolving
Inside, my lungs are decomposing.
I do not know what I am feeling,
I do not know what I am feeling,
but I feel like an abandoned collector's
case left in a corner;
I am a case long closed ,
given up on and
I am collecting dust.
Oct 7, 2016
Oct 7, 2016 at 2:43 AM UTC