#sellout
The war of words. Mine versus Yours … for sparkles NOW ?
Why do you even read if all you want to do is hear yourself?
You need someone else to tell you what to think and feel.
Try and find some deeper meaning
that someone else has figured out for you ?
, that you could staple onto your own meaningless unfulfilled excuse for a life.
Or worse yet,
quote me
as you
trying to pass yourself off as brilliant.
What, did you spend 15 minutes of one day thinking
that art was supposed to be or do
for you?
Are you one of those coddled little ***** sycophants?
Whose mommy never stopped providing a V chip safe space for?
Have you spent your whole life never being challenged?
Moping around, pilled up and complaining about being offended
from one participation trophy to another…
( no I’m not a Republican, Karen )
Did you think that life was all supposed to be roses are red violets are blue?
That I'm here to enlighten or entertain you ?
to feed you dopamine?
Another pat on the head.
This isn't tick tock
At least not yet ,
Elliot was a hero for years
but now
I have to swipe right
like and subscribe
for what ? Sparkles ? Am I 10 ?
Stars ?
Too bad you couldn’t make them tin foil and gold
right ?
Wow… reduce my art to a shallow popularity beg
SHAME.
Mar 24
Mar 24, 2026 at 12:09 AM UTC
I am wearing a ***** shirt,
It is crumpled and twice worn before
On days when laughter echoed the halls
Of aorta and vena cava,
But the sound curdled and went stale
As entropy ran through veins,
As my name rang in your ear,
The animosity grew in your cold stare.
I am wearing odd socks.
I haven’t found a partner,
Nor do I understand the use
Of matching two things the same.
If I were in love with the mirror
Then I should just wear one sock,
Let my sock’s noose sink into my supple skin
And slowly cut my ankle.
I haven’t washed my tie
In the entire time I have owned it,
Or the time it has owned me,
I feel the ***** cotton, wrapped
Tight around my neck-
Binding my words,
Suffocating my suffixes,
And the most heavenly of words have bruises…
The whitest of silken beds,
Was marred with blood
Before it was clad in armour,
Now nothing can harm her.
Nothing gets in..
The covers are not warm
And nobody sleeps there.
Less of a bed now,
Thinks defensively, now.
The colour begins to fade.
Ethereal façade
I don’t leave my door open anymore,
Darkness crept in
And I don’t dare let it out.
I have grown fond of the colour,
Or lack of it.
Personal pronouns-
The more I use the word ‘I’,
The less fond I become of it.
Aug 28, 2019
Aug 28, 2019 at 4:56 PM UTC
The devil comes and sits across you.
It does not have hooves and horns
But instead it looks like you
Your brown eyes
Your somewhat curly hair
Your brown complexion
It owns it
It wants to own you
No contract is needed
All the devil wants is to
Lock eyes with you
And all you have to do is nod
Nod,your head up and down
It understands
It knows
It does not care for your imperfections
It only cares for what you hold
Your soul
All you want is success
You nod your head up and down
In a blink of an eye
The devil has gone
But with your soul
You breathe knowing what you’ve done
But continue on and head back home
You enter your dark lit room
The vibe is different, wait no
It’s not there
It’s no longer yours
You feel the emptiness both in your gut
And around the room
Sacredness is now inferno
Personal is now inferno
Colors and words are now your new inferno
Your thoughts are poisonous
You can’t talk
You can only think in this inferno
No tune can mellow you out
NO drugs can numb you
No love can shelter you
No words comfort you
Everything hurts
Like a roses thorn
But this is your new home
Now inferno.
Apr 13, 2018
Apr 13, 2018 at 1:24 PM UTC
Drying like a dying leaf
Thirsty angry full of grief
Ain't no water in this town
And if there were I'd spit it out
Deny myself
No, quenching thirst
It ain't for me
I don't deserve
Not today
Not anyway
Today I'm dry
Wrinkled weathered withered spirit
All alone yet too much noise
I hear my name
Another day
At the office
With the drones
But who am I if I'm not them
If them is drones I'm the ******* motherboard
Of corporate copy selling ****
To ***** across the world
It pays the bills
Such a sellout
So I won't quench my thirst
Aug 24, 2017
Aug 24, 2017 at 8:51 AM UTC
How could I ignored it
How could I say it don't feel it
The feeling of been betrayal
The feelings of been sell short of my worth
Flames in my eyes burn with anger
And you don't see it how
Don't tell me to calm it down
How about looking me in the eyes
See how I feel before you say something
#sellout #bitterheart #flames
Feb 27, 2016
Feb 27, 2016 at 9:57 PM UTC
What reason it is found,
In a soul that is bound,
To the simple way of acting
After feelings are reacting?
All of them, and many more
All of them, forever lost,
To the simple way of feeling,
That love always keeps on thinking.
They sink, drown, and down forget,
About what it was once said,
That the eyes filled all with love,
They're all blind, still filled with trust.
So they gain, while getting lost,
When it's gone, they see the world,
How it's shown, without the love,
Dull and empty, filled with lust.
After all, which matters most?
Love or reason, never both,
Freedom, or just being lost?
I'll forever wonder off...
Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 4:53 PM UTC
I always swore
I'd never sell my soul
But then he told me
How hot I'd look
In sexier clothing
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 9:37 PM UTC
I played and was betrayed for a pittance
Stayed in the parade out of persistence
Gave up all charades of any resistance
This is how I earned my own existence
By selling myself by shelling my soul
One inch of survival a day for no self determination
One loaf of bread to let them make me hollow
One stream of **** to shovel from this hovel
I prayed for redemption stayed in this place
Strayed from my potential to maintain my space
Let them flay me alive till my empathy was displaced
And I became a clone of their perfect human race
Just a shadow self of everyone else with no voice
And no real face
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 10:13 AM UTC
Coiled around the core
of my heart
Is a sigh for the *****
who sold my art.
I was that fiend, lusting for care,
not long ago,
I wrote the shame on the page I tear,
I am my foe.
But dead now, is that ***** *****
Buried deep within;
I write for me forevermore,
Yet carry still that sin.
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 10:03 AM UTC