#eww
A **** is like gravy,
If it doesn't stick
To your lungs it's
Not really that good
Jan 24
Jan 24, 2026 at 11:24 AM UTC
He won’t cut his hair
Because his ears will get cold
And his eyes are dark brown
But they stare into my soul
He doesn't want to be close
Or give out hugs
But he’s always there
To check how I am
And I like this boy
And it’s ******* annoying
And I like this boy
With his drawing obsession
And his chat about a game
I have no clue about
Or an anime series
That I’ve never seen
And we joke about how
He’s so **** at maths
And he compliments my new hat
Because he knows I want one
But no one else has
And he's quick to defend me
Like I am for him
And we gel really well
But I wish we weren't friends
Being friends makes things awkward
So I'll ignore it instead
For a couple of years
Then remember and go
Oh **** yeah
**** I used to like that emo lookin kid
But he only looked like that
Because he refused to get his haircut
Because his ears would get cold
Jan 6, 2022
Jan 6, 2022 at 5:51 PM UTC
Alam ko sa sarili ko.
Sobrang taba ko.
Ayoko na malaki ang hinaharap ko,
Kasi nahihirapan na ako.
Gusto kong tumakbo at sumayaw kaso mahirap kasi ang laki ng hinaharap ko.
Hindi sa proud ako pero tanggap ko na.
Masarap kasi magluto ang buong pamilya ko.
Pero atleast balang araw papayat din ako.
Gaganda din ako.
Di tulad ng maliit ang height.
Pagdumating na ang panahon na pumayat ako.
Who you ka saken.
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 9:02 AM UTC
Whoever thought that kale was good
was on a dose of crack
flavor more like bitter wood
taste buds, under the attack
Marketing was key
selling us the notion
eating something more akin
too seaweed in the oceans
I'll apply a lot more dressing
in this unedible attempt
to get the kale down the hatch
despite all of my contempt
Mar 12, 2018
Mar 12, 2018 at 11:44 AM UTC
If you promised me you'd stay,
Would you spend the night
And tell me it'll be okay.
Hold me tight
Never let me go.
Wrap your arms around
My fears
My failures
My faults,
Make up for what I can't do.
Catch the tears I cry.
Wipe them away.
Tell me tomorrow's coming-
A brand new day.
Just hold me
And never let me go.
Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 2:14 PM UTC
I put on a cutesy voice because I’m the unexpected murderer of happiness. It makes more of an impact acting like a dumb blonde ***** to society’s expectations, that when I come out with ****** methods one wants to scream and run away. I’ll tell you what makes me squirm, being touched and googling fear of holes. Those pictures make me want to ***** and **** myself at the same time. Gore and pain…I can handle. But loads of deep circular imprints on the skin from leaning on things…no.no.no. I can’t. It will make me implode.
Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 2:44 PM UTC
I went to bake some cupcakes
I was in such a merry mood
I miss the sweet creamy taste
I miss the smell of food
Human food, Monster food
Oh, its just the same
What matters is how to make it good
I call this a cooking game
A cup of flesh, and mix it well
Those smelly rotten eggs
Light the fire, the flames of hell
Let's chop these human legs
Ahh, fresh flour - I stole from the store
A little bit of sugar, a little bit of salt
Let's knead the dough, let's fetch the coal
Surely, this is not my fault
For a sudden twist, I suddenly thought
Why not stir-in some blood
The jar of of red, I quickly sought
Where's that stirring rod?
So I baked it in the ancient oven
And waited for some time
Ping! It sprung open!
Now let's give it a try!
Nothing like a meal
For a hungry half-breed
Wasn't such a deal
It was just what I need
Nothing like a Sunday
When you're not feeling mad
Nothing like cupcakes
Nothing like fresh blood
Oh, human bones!
Ack! Ugghh!!
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 1:41 PM UTC
My heart leaps up when I behold
a skinny-lit vein split even the sky
and I am held, scared as a child,
by the wonder of its roar, my cry's
like that of a lint quietly set alight
in the large of the pitch-dark night.
I would not move from the bed
and yet, I cannot help but stare
through curtains like a coward,
pared apart by curiosity to where
I wish to slide open the window
and see what the sky did sow.
The Child is son to the mother,
and should he ever need forget
he only need look to a shatter
in the sky. The crash on his head
that follows goads, “You know
where your father goes to crow.”
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 3:39 PM UTC