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#females
How doth the little chupacabra Improve his lizard scales. Abracadabra and candelabra, He showers when it hails. His favorite thing to do is eat: His favorite food is goat. Salut, salut et bon appètit, His favorite part's the throat. Females, the locus of his focus, Attract him and repel him. Harum scarum and hocus pocus, They scorn him when they smell him.
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Jul 31, 2024
Jul 31, 2024 at 9:49 AM UTC
How Doth the Little Chupacabra
You are in heaven, when she loves you. You are in hell, when she scorn. Her eyes have the power to shrivel your soul down to an insignificant little raisin. Her smile melts bodies into congealed mush. Without her say so, I’m merely anonymous, A vagabond, some ***** Trotting through the fields, outside of her heart, Hoping to gain entry past the gates. The scent of her, intoxicating, Like laughing gas, A jovial inebriant, As tranquillizing as her wholesome chortle. Who or what am I, by comparison, Without her eyes, her skin, The taste of her lips, A sip of blackberry brandy. Her legs, more perfect, refined than David, Between them, the Holy Grail of contentment, Where life begins, where it can end, At her say so— her command. ******* crafted by the hands of God, I marvel at the sight of such beauty, In such a grotesque world, That she owns with her movement as graceful as the wind. She makes me quiver, like salt on a slug, As her silky, slick locks flip over her shoulders, Those shoulders, help me, Forget Greek architecture. How dangerous it can be, To tread through the seas of her love, Anticipating rogue waves, This schooner musn’t capsize. Dancing with her, as if the last two on Earth, I sway her body, closely against to mine, Her passion radiating against my desire, Bound to create a combustion greater than the Big Bang. And that Big Bang, where our everything meets, Her breaths, short but sweet, Her gaze pierces through my existence, As I force confidence daring to look into her eyes, While I aim to satisfy her every desire. If I should be so bold, so foolish, To take her for granted, May my soul burn in Hell, For all of everlasting. I’m nothing without that woman, Women, thank God for ‘em, For there is no greater rendition of Nirvana, Accessible to mankind.
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Nov 23, 2023
Nov 23, 2023 at 9:50 PM UTC
Woman
You are in heaven, when she loves you. You are in hell, when she scorn. Her eyes have the power to shrivel your soul down to an insignificant little raisin. Her smile melts bodies into congealed mush. Without her say so, I’m merely anonymous, A vagabond, some ***** Trotting through the fields, outside of her heart, Hoping to gain entry past the gates. The scent of her, intoxicating, Like laughing gas, A jovial inebriant, As tranquillizing as her wholesome chortle. Who or what am I, by comparison, Without her eyes, her skin, The taste of her lips, A sip of blackberry brandy. Her legs, more perfect, refined than David, Between them, the Holy Grail of contentment, Where life begins, where it can end, At her say so— her command. ******* crafted by the hands of God, I marvel at the sight of such beauty, In such a grotesque world, That she owns with her movement as graceful as the wind. She makes me quiver, like salt on a slug, As her silky, slick locks flip over her shoulders, Those shoulders, help me, Forget Greek architecture. How dangerous it can be, To tread through the seas of her love, Anticipating rogue waves, This schooner musn’t capsize. Dancing with her, as if the last two on Earth, I sway her body, closely against to mine, Her passion radiating against my desire, Bound to create a combustion greater than the Big Bang. And that Big Bang, where our everything meets, Her breaths, short but sweet, Her gaze pierces through my existence, As I force confidence daring to look into her eyes, While I aim to satisfy her every desire. If I should be so bold, so foolish, To take her for granted, May my soul burn in Hell, For all of everlasting. I’m nothing without that woman, Women, thank God for ‘em, For there is no greater rendition of Nirvana, Accessible to mankind.
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Five different species of animals evolved into 🦀 ***** Why Hell’ King crab pinchers can sever a limb! So perhaps have a little ✨sympathy When I tell ya Lately my girlfriends been acting A bit crabby again Invisible snappers Ripping tearing & Devouring!
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Nov 19, 2020
Nov 19, 2020 at 4:46 PM UTC
Crabby Again
I shut my eyes for a moment, Listening closely to the rain drops against my window. The louder splatters on the Zinc, And the solem whispers from the cold wind. Moments like these, Ignite my subtle yet firery desires. My hollow heart summons you, Reminiscing on your gentle touch never felt, The feel of our dangerous passion. Though our lips are yet to touch. ©Karen Thompson 2020
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Oct 2, 2020
Oct 2, 2020 at 4:46 AM UTC
Firery Moments
females lovers yachts forbidden fruit (eden) little hole (eve) Yahweh (tizzop) friends luck yack turn every letter around turn warriors into choirboys allergic against weapons turn vampires into humans turn around: somebody behind you spying each letter you gotta be better don't turn the page NOW the paper'd simply fly downwards into hell with you besides: the book of your life will end soon enough
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Dec 3, 2019
Dec 3, 2019 at 11:05 AM UTC
F.L.Y. Now
Is it sugar* Or is it death* dirt* or nothing. I think about it looking into my tea cup. Just an idea in my head. My over thinking, over analyzing mind* I think I am fat. I hate being fat. Then I see an amazing fat girl looking good in her jeans. Her overthrow looks amazing and I want that* I want to be fat. I could be small. I tell my self. I should eat way less and get skinny. Fit in very tight jeans and have big hair. The skinny girl yesterday looked amazing. But would I* What if I cannot look good skinny. I'd loose my **** and look weird. What if I am those people who can never get small* I love food and good places. Most of the times fat girls look awesome dressed up. I am not skinny or fat. I have never understood my body. Sometimes I feel smart sometimes I doubt everything* So, is it sugar? Is it dirt? maybe I will never know*
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Mar 23, 2018
Mar 23, 2018 at 3:42 AM UTC
***Doubtful***
my body is a temple, not a battleground for other women to fight in. my body is a temple, not a pit stop for other men, that needs a place to rest in for the night. my body is a temple, not a critical text you can analyse, and assume judgement like a book you never read. my body is a temple, not a pack of wild animals, aimed to be restrained and taught what to do. my body is a temple, and it tells a story that no one except for me will ever understand. my body is a temple, and it will not be disrespected. like a religion, i'll learn to worship it.
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Jan 24, 2018
Jan 24, 2018 at 12:17 AM UTC
my body is a temple.
By Arcassin Burnham A gorgeous girl you are. But your spoil as hell. Run over everyone you meet. at first they couldn't tell. Your mother makes too much money, You Feel like you don't have to work. your friends think your annoying. but they never use their words. you could be better than this, but you choose to be the popular clique. *you really think your **** until someone considers you lame and that's it. If you think your not one of those girls, then you should be. Do you wanna be negative in your memories?
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Aug 5, 2017
Aug 5, 2017 at 10:19 AM UTC
Those Girls
She couldn’t fight when her father didn’t want her home She couldn’t fight when her mother told her not to roam She couldn’t fight when they “married” her off to another man She couldn’t fight when he left her to pursue his lifelong plan She couldn’t fight when she held her crying 1 year old She promised herself to be bold She stood up to the world, the world that said she couldn’t She fell back down when they said a she shouldn’t
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Jun 5, 2017
Jun 5, 2017 at 10:46 AM UTC
She Shouldn't
We live in a society where... Women are supposed to have "clean jobs" Women are not as strong as men Women are supposed to look pretty and be looked at Women are never in charge But i'm here to tell you you are allowed to be what ever you want be... ***** strong look how ever you want you are in charge of anything and everything Society's definition of you is wrong. I am a female who loves getting ***** who plays "man sports", who will trade in sweats in for makeup any day, and who is in charge of my own destiny. No one is going take this away from me.
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May 12, 2017
May 12, 2017 at 4:58 PM UTC
Society is Wrong
**** Ma, When you gone let me **** Prince Charming Prince Charming, how you make your words so sweet Now you got her ******* and her heart She'll do what ever you request,want or need She not like those other girls who ask for too much You know, stuff like loyalty, respect, honesty All she wants is for you to make her feel loved Even if it's just one night she wants that pleasure from you She wants you to make her happy but she understands her place Even if you wanted her for life She knows these things don't last so she's never sad when men leave They always leave something for her to remember them by Whether it's ruined sheets or random stains She takes them as tokens of the late nights and early mornings she was loved And when you have finished soiling her and you've had your fill Pass her on to your friend so she can be ****** some more So she can be soiled some more So she can feel love and shame She know this ain't real love but she also knows it's too late for that What is love but a fatal and brutal form of suicide She's killing herself to find it
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Dec 12, 2016
Dec 12, 2016 at 9:31 PM UTC
Fatal
By the time I knew That you were the one You have already Found out And you smile A sly smile As you pull me close to you And kiss me as though you're thirsty As though you've been waiting ages For me to realize it
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Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 4:00 AM UTC
Female Scorpio
I love ***** big and small, I love ***** best of all. I think ***** are lots of fun, I think ***** are number one. I think ***** are really neat, they make me want to beat my meat. I love ***** covered in lace, I love ***** rubbing my face. I love ***** in leather black, those are huge, do they hurt your back? I love ***** in bras of silk, make me want to say "got milk"? I love ***** in a college dorm, and in a nurse's uniform. I love ***** in tight red sweaters, or stretching against a t-shirt's letters. I love ***** in t-shirts wet, hey you with the nice ***** have we met? I love ***** in skimpy swim wear, I'm sorry, I can't help but stare. I saw your cleavage from above, with your ***** I am in love. Your ***** are giving me a ****** I'll have my pants off in a jiffy. Your ***** have given me an ******** I want to do them without protection. Your ***** have made me want to **** them. I even want to ********* them.
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May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 2:13 PM UTC
*******
The Strength of The female carrying a nation in her womb, leaders, criminal master minds and you. Feeding clans, communities and villages, nurturing earth. Sheltering the youth, in storms of the future ahead, wiping your tears strengthening your heart again. She is always there and has The Hands of warmth, holding you tight to lands of joy
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Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 2:11 PM UTC
Her strength
I look at her and I close my eyes, And oh where my imagination, Send my eager mind, The wiles versus my wills, oh those hills they bind, Men like me, like demons versus the Lion, Exorcized, exorcized, Yeah, but I am Legion, if they beat me one time, Oh, next time, time, They'll be mine. And those mountains of lust, That once seemed unclaimable, Unclimbable like Everest before Edmund Hillary, like the Sistine Chapel, Before Michelangelo, oh I will persist, I will pursue, with the littlest smile, And the darkest hue, Where after many days fight, Suddenly. Then, in the night, when alas my victory is won! My prize I will take, And her pleasure I will reign.
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Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 2:18 PM UTC
Her Curves
Lipstick splattered on her face, mascara lines are ruining her lids of desperation. I see women of beauty, but replacing secrets, these girls don't feel well. Their bodies scream beautiful yet their eyes scream despair, it's like isolation in their heads. Why do I envy you, when you feel the same way I do? We are idols, we are scenes, we are plays, we are actors in disguise, nobody will know our kind. We try to fit in with the rest, we try to remember why we started this. I saw you once, when I was only young, never did I know, that man could be manipulated so well indeed. To the point they love uncontrollably, yet I can see why your eyes are blurred. Why do I envy you, when you feel the same way I do? We are idols, we are scenes to the plays nobody wants to see, we are actors in disguise, nobody will know our kind. We try to fit in with the best, the best of the world, the ones they look to for every word, Yet I see isolation is never replaced. Why do I envy you, when you feel the same way I do? I don't understand, you mustn't really, love the feeling? How do I become the way, so I feel like freedom wings, flying in the air, yet I don't feel right, I don't feel safe, wishing my body away.
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Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 9:12 PM UTC
Roles.
Braid your hair and hug your mother's photograph tight, Flashbacks, bitter-sweet memories, old friends, lovers and comrades. The battlefield awaits you, needs you, grieves you, now is your final chance to fight.
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Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 6:56 AM UTC
Kurdish Warrior
Holy, we are born. Holy, is our lives. Holy, is our love. Holy, is our sins. Holy, is our suffering. Holy, is our salivation. Graced Mother bestow us with suffering, cleanse us of divinity.
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May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 8:23 PM UTC
She, hers.
girls like me are built small some might say fragile, even but our hands are tough and strong always clutching broad swords and shields our lips: ruby red, from lipstick and/or taking the occasional wrong turn once in a while our hips: like vases for flowers you sometimes forget to water when you're too busy (somewhere along the line i became more of a wildflower than a wallflower though) our noses: so cute and buttonlike and perfect for those little lost and found kisses our mouths: hopefully or hopelessly unabashed, through speech and silence our willpower can crumble mountains the dexterity of our hands tries as best as it can to reach you but sometimes you're just too far away on top of hillcrests in timbuktu or in another woman's arms or lost in your own thought but it's alright, i laugh and you can still see the glimmer in my eyes even in the shadows you left behind i am stronger than this
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May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 1:14 AM UTC
curvature