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"abnormalities" poems
Black surges, forges piling emotion, Foraging, attaining such predicted erosion. Color the rubies to a diluted amber, Brittle, dripped gems are toxic, I clamber To the lamp as to see my implicit devotion. Vitals ascend, and I can't perceive This motionless forfeit I often receive. Aid is essential, it holds potential, To cure this conflicted, addicted vessel. My heart on my sleeve, I'm undeceived. I implore to explore, as breath, I leave, So close to dying, I'm on the eve Of darker clothing, and flowers to family, Hallucinate my abnormalities. Yet somehow, I am still on my feet-
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May 17, 2018
May 17, 2018 at 9:33 PM UTC
I'm Still On My Feet
Albert had an ARTHRITIC knee which gave him curry The core of a BOIL is oft hard to extract Yesterday June experienced a server stomach CRAMP Too much dry weather can cause the outer DERMAL layer to peel Never read in a poorly lit room for you'll have EYE strain After eating spicy pickles dad had bad FLATULENCE Some twenty eight years ago my friend Helen had her GALLBLADDER removed They say that a glass of water will stop HICCUPS From end to end our INTESTINAL tract is thirty foot long On Sunday afternoon John broke his JAW playing football Some people have very boney KNUCKLES One of my work colleagues is prone to getting LARYNGITIS Colin suffers terribly with MIGRAINE headaches Sometimes people tend to endlessly NAVAL gaze A woman's OVARIES need to be checked on a regular basis for any abnormalities The PANCREAS secrets a hormone known as insulin QUININE once was extensively used in the treatment of Malaria Since my sister has put on weight she cannot find her RIBS The STIRRUP bone lies within one's ear Dan Aykroyd the famous comic star has webbed TOES Should you bump your ULNA bone it may give you reason to groan The VARICOSE VEINS is great aunt Ruby's legs were very pronounced Does anyone know of a good remedy for unsightly WARTS At our local hospital we have an antiquated X-RAY machine As tiredness and weariness sets in one YAWNS quite a lot ****** ZOSTER can make a person constantly itch
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Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 1:31 AM UTC
ABC Poem (Medical Stuff )
How is life on lsd? Well come on this trip with me. Drugs are bad kids, they open your mind. They allow you to reason, and see through the lies, Losing reality, achieving duality, The effects might be harsh, cause abnormalities. Seeing your world and life differently, Flowing through your brain so quick so swiftly. When your eyes dilate, you no longer procrastinate You get to pick between reality and your inner state. Seeing that the small things are what matter, Satisfying our thirst, for knowledge over matter. Because on drugs you might enjoy walking, You might enjoy smelling the grass or even talking Expressing your mind, reasoning a thought, And not being a cynics narcissist while you internally rot. The experience on it impairs your mind, And may leave you always behind Behind with love, adventure, and discovery Instead of hate, restrictions and agony. But drugs are bad kids don’t take my advice, the commoner lowlifes like us will someday pay the price. The price of thinking differently, and enjoying life, Walk this amazing world, with no need for strife. Drugs impair your mind kids they do, but what happens during them only chances what’s inside of you…
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Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 10:39 PM UTC
Life on LSD
Different; You heard me, that's what i'll always be. Maybe not to my eyes, but to yours they will see. Different is the word to describe the abnormalities in ones self of individuality. I' am different because your music taste is awful, but who am I to judge ones flavor in artistry. You **** me in and blow me out like a dragons fire. I' am the girl who you never thought you'd heard. Different is what they call me, and in some other terms just a freak in disguise.
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Sep 5, 2021
Sep 5, 2021 at 1:37 AM UTC
Different
Theres a circle cycle of sides to the self of me Standing in the middle surveying my surroundings Noting each application and the consequences that apply Maybe I'm simply a hedonist Weighting for worn out pleasure centers to take a flame Or an optimistic pessimist Citing my self for the blame   My humanistic approach has lost appeal Defying my superego And hierarchy of needs reel Stuck in Erickson stages A psychodynamic underground war rages There's a linear graph Self sided to me Maybe I'm projecting all my insecurities And taking my abnormalities Out on maladaptive poetry
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Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 10:46 PM UTC
Maladaptive Poetry: Psych 101
A lame boy; they say I be Low-pitched guy?; yee' that's me been a lame boy since I was three Dull and placid; unsatisfactory been a quiet boy; since I was born Psychopathic; and somewhat tough Sail your ship up-north; I go offshore A prodigal son;... left by his mum; at the age of four Sometime I'm cool; sometimes I'm warm Father wasn't sure; if I was sane or not Thought my abnormalities; equals 'dull So he left Up-North where he'd be bother-not Father's gone; mum's living rough Doing enough stuff to rid the boy off..... the black hole living in the boy's thought Cos' everyone gets lost; crossing the boy's port Afterward; I was left in this dungeon Life raised me to this lame strong boy A lame boy; raised by rain of dirt All he's ever taste was the opposite of joy This lame boy will soon find joy I'm lame for sure; but my feet are strong My mind find words when my hands are bored My heart finds love when my head's at fault When you bring me stress; I'm turning blind Cos' this lame boy seems to find Peace in the loneliness of his mind Seeing the path ahead and behind This lame boy is ****** enshrined Prodigal and divine; a boy you can't confine Cos' money or ******* doesn't define his mentality and the way he grind I'm that lame boy; that you hiss and judge For my writability and use of words While you nuisance spew sh*t and sort I do my lame stuff; Yea; I sit and jot... And then I pour.....; my state of mind; in a distinctive thought Well; I'm a lame boy; I only look upfront I don't care if my root; is clean or not Don't mind if my boot is filled with mud Only focus on my dreams and things I sought I'm a lame boy; I've seen the sea and shore Crawled this earth from south to North Been in this world before 94 Before Abacha ruin the course; of this Nation more Lame boy this; lame boy that 'Lame boy 's shit'; 'lame boy 's bad' "He's lame and dull; he can't attack" "too rough and poor; he's not my type" Well; this lame boy doesn't care 'bout Words from your lilly-filthy mouth Cos' this lame boy is now an OG; yes! An Original Gent; who is God-blessed
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Jun 9, 2021
Jun 9, 2021 at 2:04 PM UTC
LAME BOY
A lame boy; they say I be Low-pitched guy?; yee' that's me been a lame boy since I was three Dull and placid; unsatisfactory been a quiet boy; since I was born Psychopathic; and somewhat tough Sail your ship up-north; I go offshore A prodigal son;... left by his mum; at the age of four Sometime I'm cool; sometimes I'm warm Father wasn't sure; if I was sane or not Thought my abnormalities; equals 'dull So he left Up-North where he'd be bother-not Father's gone; mum's living rough Doing enough stuff to rid the boy off..... the black hole living in the boy's thought Cos' everyone gets lost; crossing the boy's port Afterward; I was left in this dungeon Life raised me to this lame strong boy A lame boy; raised by rain of dirt All he's ever taste was the opposite of joy This lame boy will soon find joy I'm lame for sure; but my feet are strong My mind find words when my hands are bored My heart finds love when my head's at fault When you bring me stress; I'm turning blind Cos' this lame boy seems to find Peace in the loneliness of his mind Seeing the path ahead and behind This lame boy is ****** enshrined Prodigal and divine; a boy you can't confine Cos' money or ******* doesn't define his mentality and the way he grind I'm that lame boy; that you hiss and judge For my writability and use of words While you nuisance spew sh*t and sort I do my lame stuff; Yea; I sit and jot... And then I pour.....; my state of mind; in a distinctive thought Well; I'm a lame boy; I only look upfront I don't care if my root; is clean or not Don't mind if my boot is filled with mud Only focus on my dreams and things I sought I'm a lame boy; I've seen the sea and shore Crawled this earth from south to North Been in this world before 94 Before Abacha ruin the course; of this Nation more Lame boy this; lame boy that 'Lame boy 's shit'; 'lame boy 's bad' "He's lame and dull; he can't attack" "too rough and poor; he's not my type" Well; this lame boy doesn't care 'bout Words from your lilly-filthy mouth Cos' this lame boy is now an OG; yes! An Original Gent; who is God-blessed
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54
Set aside the formalities Put behind your brutalities Forget about the finalities Throw away all moralities Come hide from your realities Forgive me for my irrationalities I plea not for practicalities I know of the abnormalities Do you know of the totalities Just listen to the modalities It's becoming a lethality
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Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 8:25 PM UTC
Alities Of Us
I crave the road All I want is to feel the steering wheel in my grasp, and smell the gasoline in the air This town is not my home Do I even know the definition, of the word belonging? Take me to the city of freaks, where my abnormalities will be embraced The desire is greatest as we speak, and you tell me that you taste the road in my name I want to get away, and go taste the strawberries in your mouth Circumstances leave me trapped here, my bitter tongue cannot yet taste the dusty road It's just so hard to stay still when the tip of my tongue can taste my true home I want to hit the road Only ten hours away from your arms (my home) Only five hundred miles from your mouth (the taste of home my tongue desire)
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Jan 21, 2014
Jan 21, 2014 at 3:17 PM UTC
Taste of belonging
Motionlessly sitting Quietly thinking Head rested on my desk I put my fears to the test No thoughts come to me Compelling advisers look at me Try not to stare, Look down and play with my hair. I burp subliminally. I smell blood and coiled in it was half of my soul. I grasp to it, hope I don't breed, not that anyone will take any interest in me. Suffer the abnormalities of the world so far behind. Contrary to popular belief, I was no one special. So walk for disaster, smile slyly for ever and after. No one could be a more perfect match than me and your mother.
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Aug 31, 2013
Aug 31, 2013 at 4:51 AM UTC
airborne
god is the devil and the devil is bob god is the devil and the devil is bob god is the devil and the devil is bob GOD THE DEVIL AND BOB today, bob was trying to help 3 people who looks up and around and the first man tom’s case, it was the fascination with neon lights this made his head spin around and around, and it wasn’t the usual headspinning that every adult faces from time to time, it was psychotic this really bugged tom, and bob said, could this be god annoying you and tom said, dunno mate and went away singing god is the devil and the devil is the force moving my head cosmically god is the devil and the devil is the force moving my head cosmically god is the devil and the devil is the force moving my head cosmically GOD THE DEVIL AND BOB WHO IS THE FORCE The 2nd bloke was harry and when he looked up, it was more weird than tom’s you see he would look up at the sky saying, take me now, almighty GOD and bob said have you thought about being positive rather than talking about death and harry said, shut up, life isn’t working for me, how i would hope, so shut up if you tell me to live my fucken life, I CAN’T STAND YA and harry went away singing god is the devil and death sounds nice god is the devil and death sounds nice god is the devil and death sounds nice GOD THE DEVIL AND THE MIGHTY DEATH TONES and our final bloke was brian, who was told, he has a looking up disorder, which was so queer he could have a brain tumor, and brian’s mate suggested that brian goes to have a brainscan to see if there is any abnormalities in his brain , which could be causing the look ups and like tom, it was a fascination with neon signs, brian wanted a medication to get rid of the look ups so he can PARTY, and get rid of this crazy person lookup disorder and bob said it could be the buddhist god (buddha)or it could be athena working on brian’s brain, it could be the dreaded force, where you are forced to show abnormalities in the brain, brian went away saying perhaps that is true, and sang god is the devil and the devil is the look ups god is the devil and the devil is the look ups god is the devil and the devil is the look ups god the devil, and bob, the almighty bob delahunty
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Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 8:43 AM UTC
god the devil and bob, being forced by the FORCE to look up, i had it, i am brian
god is the devil and the devil is bob god is the devil and the devil is bob god is the devil and the devil is bob GOD THE DEVIL AND BOB today, bob was trying to help 3 people who looks up and around and the first man tom’s case, it was the fascination with neon lights this made his head spin around and around, and it wasn’t the usual headspinning that every adult faces from time to time, it was psychotic this really bugged tom, and bob said, could this be god annoying you and tom said, dunno mate and went away singing god is the devil and the devil is the force moving my head cosmically god is the devil and the devil is the force moving my head cosmically god is the devil and the devil is the force moving my head cosmically GOD THE DEVIL AND BOB WHO IS THE FORCE The 2nd bloke was harry and when he looked up, it was more weird than tom’s you see he would look up at the sky saying, take me now, almighty GOD and bob said have you thought about being positive rather than talking about death and harry said, shut up, life isn’t working for me, how i would hope, so shut up if you tell me to live my fucken life, I CAN’T STAND YA and harry went away singing god is the devil and death sounds nice god is the devil and death sounds nice god is the devil and death sounds nice GOD THE DEVIL AND THE MIGHTY DEATH TONES and our final bloke was brian, who was told, he has a looking up disorder, which was so queer he could have a brain tumor, and brian’s mate suggested that brian goes to have a brainscan to see if there is any abnormalities in his brain , which could be causing the look ups and like tom, it was a fascination with neon signs, brian wanted a medication to get rid of the look ups so he can PARTY, and get rid of this crazy person lookup disorder and bob said it could be the buddhist god (buddha)or it could be athena working on brian’s brain, it could be the dreaded force, where you are forced to show abnormalities in the brain, brian went away saying perhaps that is true, and sang god is the devil and the devil is the look ups god is the devil and the devil is the look ups god is the devil and the devil is the look ups god the devil, and bob, the almighty bob delahunty
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36
Cinnamon sonogram Detect the abnormalities too late. Morning after birth of a placebo placenta. Irrigate the porcelain of a lost labor laboratory. Love found not within the arms of the golem grasping for straws. - Wailing a harmony of blue and red. Pumping panacea. Steady the pace, you hotheads with elegant electric veins. On Monday she sung so sweetly and whispered her prophet tales. Saturday appeared as an echoing, hollow and halfhearted hymn. - They retreat in rebellion; lapping at salt laced lacerations. Rye, grain, roots, and grapes for the Baroness of the Barrens. Weeping waters leads to the sleeping daughters that dangle their threats like fishing hooks off of the edge of a world so flat.
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Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 2:44 PM UTC
Cradle
Would you say my words express possible realities Resulting in different mentalities ? Or Are they just written/verbal fallacies Resulting in abnormalities of letters and words hoping to avoid any literary casualties? How about both Sadly, here you can only read it, So you don't hear it, you just see it, but it's something I'd love for your ears to meet with Nothing really can compete With vocal manipulation of speech or how certain pronunciations can proceed Living through a zub-zero temperature year is what it took for me to be able to reel in my minds cable and see clear Avoiding a fatal crash I quickly grabbed the wheel to steer Away from hitting a metaphorical deer It's not a black cloud that hovers above me It's god and the devil playing rugby Every time I try to watch they just stare back and mean mug me Two opposing forces going head to head? More like a sorcerer and a sorceress sharing a bed How many times can a bee sting if it's already stung? None, it has a single stinger that's the only one After that, the songs been sung and that bees life is done... An answer to a question avoiding any deception just so you can understand the expression and find your own reflection -J.A.M
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Jul 15, 2013
Jul 15, 2013 at 2:27 PM UTC
Questions To Be Answered -Or- Answers to Questioned
Watching as all of daylight dies, a gentle smile hiding a ****** knife, come and look upon the lord of the flies. Everyone fell deaf to the hundreds of cries, the vast oceans filled with turmoil and strife, watching as all of daylight dies. A tender kiss for you who spreads rabies, you who keeps the dead children safe, come and look upon the lord of the flies. We celebrate your clear abnormalities, you who relished burning down that café, watching as all of daylight dies. Why should we care for a family of nobodies? Who received an early trip to the afterlife, come look upon the lord of the flies. We watch you, casting away tragedies, smiling at how you, the simple farmwife, watching as all of daylight dies. Come and look upon the lord of the flies.
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Mar 7, 2012
Mar 7, 2012 at 9:17 AM UTC
Daylight Dies
an item of importance has just come to hand so listen to the article which is on the news stands preventative health message maybe of some use to all paying attention to your private parts is the call the ******* and the prostate gland require a little investigation every now and then to ensure that they are in good working order for all you ladies and gentlemen regular ***** and prostate examinations detected abnormalities which are abominations pick up the telephone and make an appointment with your family GP if you discover anything that isn't quite as it should be early detection of cancer cells may mean a longer life putting off an examination may shorten your life the ******* and prostate gland need you to take care of them heed the call all you ladies and gentlemen
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Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 6:55 PM UTC
Preventative Health Message
Camille is purple tensing her body feeling lonely not lonely enough to call anyone all calls are dry mouthed and stained ***** red apothic red if you want her to be exact although unnatural she writes drunk and never edits the words tumble out of her like kids who learn gymnastics at a young age and laugh at her for plugging her nose when jumping into the foam pit, so unnatural Marilyn talks to her and she feels a little less lonely, and a little more comfortable in her abnormalities as she sips at her glass before chugging the rest of the bottle while pondering another until she realizes that it's no good for her rethinks and decides it's a yes
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Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 9:03 PM UTC
apathy rains crimson
I do not write my poems, My poems write me these boundaries of my body these fingertip extremities are not quills and this liquid velvet this lifeless blood is not raven-colored ink, rather my skin is pages and pages of palpable pulp, deacrinated tentacle tree branches and fiberless roots convulse and my metal mind seizes sadness and manufactures paper out of the trees growing inside of me Titanium oxide is extracted from my black eyes while wax drips off of my eyelashes into liquid pools of ebony My mistake of a mind imprisons abjection and mass-produces ink out of the elements of my soul’s curtain-drawn windows words and words and words and words fill the spaces between the pores where my hair follicles protrude Diction dilemmas dip their quills into my eyelids and peirce my forehead until I am scarred by POETRY Asphyxiating abnormalities write themselves into existence and reproduce in my skull, the fissures of my brain are their nests Seven hundred million two dimensional letters float into my blood and disperse and and feed on these crimson channels and converge to form three dimensional words to form still increasingly multidimensional sentences and stanzas and POEMS until I am a library of impossible holes in existence, an impossible amount of existence. I do not write my poems into existence My poems are my existence.
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Dec 6, 2017
Dec 6, 2017 at 9:10 PM UTC
Poetry on my Skin, Poetry in my Body
noun the sampling of amniotic fluid using a hollow needle inserted into the ****** to screen for developmental abnormalities in a fetus. ... Not everything about you is on that little screen;  not in your number of chromosomes, not in your misshapen genes.  Yet everyone talks about you, as if they know you: "impaired cognitive abilities"... "50% chance of being stillborn"... "impacts the family unit"... Your life and capacity for love will never be defined by your DNA, but rather by your smile and your laughter and  your heart and and and ... In short, my love,  you cannot be defined by what is missing but rather by what you can and will be when you arrive  in all your humanity
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May 18, 2021
May 18, 2021 at 3:38 PM UTC
amniocentesis
I hate your movement, your tainted, remorseful, inhuman, abnormalities. hemorrhage your finances on useless entities, such as a mind altering beverage, more than one, or please go on and drink yourself to death. I was almost so accurately close to the unconscious mind you engage in every 12 hours, but loosely, abruptly, and significantly, it was what humanity refers to as a “failed task”. To you things are practical, so spur of the moment, our impulses we had frequently left us in dismal. Ever on occasions, if I ever. Finding a soul doppel-ganged to yours,  carbon copied, manufactured, identical traits, perfectly matched in sequence of personal qualities making me sink as far down as gravity could pull my main pumping ***** of course this is all anatomy. I laugh, although I should be rather pessimistic about that morning dawn, fogged, winter dawn. But what exactly is a joke without a punchline? A cell with no nucleus? a god **** house with no support beams? A band with no drums to keep everything counting, to keep everything in time? These things may no be able to survive without base, and you can find humor in everything life possesses, even after disaster. According to the most profound term of worship, the most known masked replica of “religion”, according to, this representative is god, the joke master. Look at your mentally impaired, speaking on a more serious level of course, I think things would ride smoothly if I had been blessed with autism. You see that type of mind state can put others at ease, they think so shrewdly that I feel sorry for them rather than the mental impaired. TO be gifted, to not give 12 ***** about media, politics, war, economy, and common global uproars. Thus if they do they know more than the presidential campaign combined into one single universal atom. What I’m getting at is are they the joke or are we?
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Jun 6, 2010
Jun 6, 2010 at 4:35 PM UTC
To What Degree Is Crossing Lines? (rant)
I hate your movement, your tainted, remorseful, inhuman, abnormalities. hemorrhage your finances on useless entities, such as a mind altering beverage, more than one, or please go on and drink yourself to death. I was almost so accurately close to the unconscious mind you engage in every 12 hours, but loosely, abruptly, and significantly, it was what humanity refers to as a “failed task”. To you things are practical, so spur of the moment, our impulses we had frequently left us in dismal. Ever on occasions, if I ever. Finding a soul doppel-ganged to yours,  carbon copied, manufactured, identical traits, perfectly matched in sequence of personal qualities making me sink as far down as gravity could pull my main pumping ***** of course this is all anatomy. I laugh, although I should be rather pessimistic about that morning dawn, fogged, winter dawn. But what exactly is a joke without a punchline? A cell with no nucleus? a god **** house with no support beams? A band with no drums to keep everything counting, to keep everything in time? These things may no be able to survive without base, and you can find humor in everything life possesses, even after disaster. According to the most profound term of worship, the most known masked replica of “religion”, according to, this representative is god, the joke master. Look at your mentally impaired, speaking on a more serious level of course, I think things would ride smoothly if I had been blessed with autism. You see that type of mind state can put others at ease, they think so shrewdly that I feel sorry for them rather than the mental impaired. TO be gifted, to not give 12 ***** about media, politics, war, economy, and common global uproars. Thus if they do they know more than the presidential campaign combined into one single universal atom. What I’m getting at is are they the joke or are we?
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2
If I had four feet, I doubt I'd do much better. I could run so much faster, I could balance so much steadier. But I wouldn't. If I had three hands, I doubt I'd do much better. I could type so much faster, I could play so much better. But I wouldn't. If I had two heads, I doubt I'd do much better. I could see so much more, More of the world I could explore. But I wouldn't. I'd just be stuck Get me out of this warped body I would scream Give me a life of normalcy I would plead Just take away my abnormalities Until the world Seemed less unfair Rid me of this shame I don't want to play this game. I would never stop to see The rainbow that could be I'd be the devils work And nobody would be able to convince me otherwise So if I had one body, I guess it would still be the same. Even though I could have two eyes My body would still be my demise. I'd have one body, And along with it I'd get a mind That would have it's own ideas And would forever bring me tears.
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Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 1:01 PM UTC
One body- The devil's work
There was once a King and Queen of both abnormalities who struck fear in each other's eyes! This was certainly a pleasurable experience and outcome for them both. Simply because they both didn't know what one or the other's personal mere "abnormality" was even about. Nor, what it even was... Because whatever one or the other had (prematurely on both each other's awareness's from never knowing of the actual "truer" whereabouts) on simply acknowledging the other's efforts were in fact...futile! This very futile fact is what made knowing of the other constantly "infatuated" with one another! (And what secretly lead into the marriage as both "a king and queen of both abnormalities"!) Because one day for the very first time (in like)...FOREVER.... They both came to actually appreciate one another's abnormalities as a mere blessing...then an actual curse. Which was what they both (respectfully between one another) once thought since the very beginning. Completely oblivious to essentially not knowing that there was a very hidden "blessing in disguise" in the form of a pure miracle! Just waiting to be "blossomed" for ALL too see fit!
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Aug 22, 2020
Aug 22, 2020 at 8:25 PM UTC
A King and Queen of both abnormalities
I want to be unapologetic Yet, I continue to apologize For every difference that they see Increases the need to compromise From what I wear to how I sleep Or what is deemed a healthy size From then on, I understood That I lived only to be described I apologize again for my differences Next time, I will improve my disguise For the sake of your own comfort I will keep putting aside mine I look up to their condescending stares They will never be satisfied I escape into my solitude I am not something for you to define I am tired of advocating for myself Without the support of family ties Finding more hate in my own growth As though I live to be ostracized My attempts to calm my abnormalities In order to sooth those who penalize To make room for all of their expectations To create another profitable merchandise They have taught me to pursue A personality so idealized While they heavily persuade me To carve a body to sexualize Only to be rewarded with a life Where I am only patronized Filled with the inequalities That are completely normalized I retreat into my inner world The place where I fanaticize Of a space where I can breathe With the encouragement to try I am not broken, just discouraged Of those who antagonize Minorities and their differences Who then live demoralized I don't want to be given a role With a life script to memorize Or submit myself to a narrative That can easily be summarized Do not confide me to a label Just so you can stigmatized Those labels are not my name I deserved to be recognized I do not wish to be put on a pedestal As another icon to be advertised I only wish for your understanding Just enough to be humanized
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Apr 7, 2020
Apr 7, 2020 at 11:40 PM UTC
Defiant
I want to be unapologetic Yet, I continue to apologize For every difference that they see Increases the need to compromise From what I wear to how I sleep Or what is deemed a healthy size From then on, I understood That I lived only to be described I apologize again for my differences Next time, I will improve my disguise For the sake of your own comfort I will keep putting aside mine I look up to their condescending stares They will never be satisfied I escape into my solitude I am not something for you to define I am tired of advocating for myself Without the support of family ties Finding more hate in my own growth As though I live to be ostracized My attempts to calm my abnormalities In order to sooth those who penalize To make room for all of their expectations To create another profitable merchandise They have taught me to pursue A personality so idealized While they heavily persuade me To carve a body to sexualize Only to be rewarded with a life Where I am only patronized Filled with the inequalities That are completely normalized I retreat into my inner world The place where I fanaticize Of a space where I can breathe With the encouragement to try I am not broken, just discouraged Of those who antagonize Minorities and their differences Who then live demoralized I don't want to be given a role With a life script to memorize Or submit myself to a narrative That can easily be summarized Do not confide me to a label Just so you can stigmatized Those labels are not my name I deserved to be recognized I do not wish to be put on a pedestal As another icon to be advertised I only wish for your understanding Just enough to be humanized
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52
I am putrid in all forms Layers of disgust and angst, I back out on any occasion; and yet, I feel enjoyment behind the vex Nevertheless, it is natural to blame the suspect, While I blame the victim, whose sin is odious The foul causalities, abnormalities, Are part of a play by the master of puppets, We dance around in the shadow they cast, It was nice until it lasted, until love evaded, I became apathetic and prone, Until I became rotten, behind the phone.
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May 25, 2017
May 25, 2017 at 5:16 AM UTC
rotten
where are my ugly people? shuffling with holed shoes, defunct ****** organs, crossed eyes. those whose strides echo their genetic abnormalities, a leg an inch longer than the other (like me), arms fat with blood, skin resplendent with eczema boils on eyelids, dilated pupils, escaping from the mirror with horse tranquilizer and enough ***** to sink the state of California. where are my ugly people, too long under the delusion of "finding inner beauty" by the pretty ones; straight teeth, combed and styled hair, brown and ivory skinned drowning the streets with their cackling and condescension. we should scar their faces with buckshot, carve those empty smiles across their high cheekbones to be an omnipresent companion. show them a bit of our own benevolence; where are my ugly people like me?
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Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 6:22 PM UTC
on walking across campus
Broken Pieces and Broken Bones Blood of red and blood of gold I've been born from wars and wars And found a home of peace and cold I am suppressed but not oppressed Dressed to Impress Put on a pedestal Yes, since I have fallen Much like the ancestors before myself My name is S.A.R.A 4 letters that I have not yet to live up to It reminds me of my mother as she opens up her arms Reminds me of my father as he tries to be stern 2 vowels, 2 consonants 2 different sides That you have not yet heard So please, don't only judge me on one. Broken pieces and Broken bones Betraying my heart and lungs my Brain cannot think my Body will not move I am Beside myself in grief and Behind myself in hope I Believe I can take one last Breath Before I Bow down in defeat I think what I'm trying to say is I am someone I should appreciate Be happy to be I am my nationality Made of my experiences And all of my abnormalities You will never know the full extent of My inexperienced life Because you did what I asked to Please not do And Judged.
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Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 10:08 PM UTC
My Identity