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Blossom Mar 2017
Procrastinate
It's when you wait
To do the things
You truly hate.

WORK CAN'T WAIT
Your conscious yells.
Instead you ponder
'bout cow bells.
Cuz if we need
Bells for our cows,
Why not small kids
Who wander 'round?
Kids that're smelly,
have round bellies
and seem to always
be cryin' and yelling?

At this point
You look to the fan
And see a fat fly
You wonder when it's gunna die
But your lazy cat,
Who has lazily sat
On the laziest looking mat,
Jumps like a boss
and with a paw toss
Swipes that fly
Into your left eye.
Right after the hit,
You scream...
FU<KING ****!?
WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS?


Now as you're half blind
A series of thoughts
Pop into your mind.
What if you die...?
All because of the fly?
What if it landed
In some ****?
What if that ****...
Is now in you?
You could get malaria...
Get lost in hysteria...
Nothing seems clear
Will you now never know
If Justin Bieber's queer?


Procrastination
Is when you wait
To do the things
You truly hate
But if you take
Too long to start
Karma bites you
In the ****.

AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER!
Who else procrastinates more than actual work? Just me? okay then...
Blossom Mar 2017
We all go blind, sometimes
To beauty in our life.
I swore as a kid I never would,
Not like those grumpy adults do.
But here I am, blind as a bat
And trying to run through life.

I'm blind to my friends who only wish me happiness.
I'm blind to my world filled with the brightest colors.
I'm blind to the boy who's asked gently for my heart.

I know that I need to move on
From my darkened past,
*But moving past hell is hard, you know?
Blossom Mar 2017
You gave me your word.
Held me tight, I gave my trust.
In flames, I now lay.
Blossom Mar 2017
Oh Holy Agony- how do you bear
To watch the screaming souls
Fight against your poison laced binds.
Oh Holy Agony- where is your heart,
Us pitiful humans you feast upon
Need not to submerge in your wrath.
Oh Holy Agony- why hath you not perished,
Deep in your ***** I've thrusted my knife
But death did not take you for good company.
Oh Holy Agony- you savagely resuscitated,
Crawling out the Fiery depths of Hell
To disrupt my ephemeral serenity.
Blossom Mar 2017
Weave me blue blanket of lies
Made from young virtuous lamb,
Forevermore, my comfort to keep.
Diminutive truths bearing no power
Mixed within sweet fallacy threads
Create this masterpiece I hold so dear.
Chamomile brewing late into the night,
Screaming black kettle boils over the edge
And sizzling snaps trail quickly after.
Duvet released my hand reaches forth,
Blindly scraping left arm on hot stove.
Howls, yelps, screeches of pain fly out my lungs,
Loud enough for Lupa, Achos, and Ania
To gaily dance amidst- my guttural cries as melody.
Ice pressed against my torrid flesh
I grasp the blue cloth of lambskin,
My defense against harsh actuality.
Fraudulent bliss a path often chosen,
Tis the blind man's way of life,
So a blind man is what I shall be.
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