"accustom" poems
Let not this love fall into discontent,
Nor my eyes accustom to her allure.
Let not the sight of her cease wonderment,
Nor my passion bore with beauty demure.
Let not my lips stop quiv’ring for her kiss,
Nor my fingers ache for her velvet hair.
Let not my arms embrace with avarice,
Nor my desire leave anything to spare.
Let not her beauty ever be passé,
Nor my heart not yearn for her naked breast.
Let not making love miss a single day,
Nor lying beside her allow us rest.
Let not me take for granted her boudoir,
Nor my love for her wane even a bit.
Let not my lustful eyes ever look far,
Nor my body ablaze become unlit.
Dec 3, 2018
Dec 3, 2018 at 8:18 PM UTC
From the moment we met on that eventful night,
I've felt something for her unlike I've felt for any other soul.
Her hair was curled, her makeup was neat.
She was beautiful.
She smiled at me a special smile,
And it was that smile I would become accustom to.
She was surrounded by a crowd of exceptional people.
They were a kind of wild and raunchy people I hadn't been exposed to.
Amongst them, she shined like a diamond,
As if she was God and they were all descendants of Lucifer.
I soon became aware that her and I could relate.
Sometimes outcasted by others, we bonded in our strife.
We led similar lives and connected strongly with each other in a friendly, nonromantic way.
Whilst her fellow souls were overflowing with disorder,
We held each other and comforted each other from the unsafe conditions of teenage darkness.
She was misunderstood and so was I.
We were meant to live much simpler lives,
But in our struggle to prosper in what we thought was divine,
We made our lives much more complicated.
She watched me as I drove those familiar roads,
And listened as I talked of my blues.
She empathized with me.
We always got along the best.
Faced with a plethora of teenage hardships,
We always found our way back to sanity.
We always found our way back to each other.
She was everything to me,
And to this day, she still shines like a diamond.
Now, her smile is more than just a smile.
It's a pathway to serenity.
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 9:36 PM UTC
If life were a fairy tale you'd be my prince charming and I'd be your damsel in distress.
If life were a fairy tale you'd rescue me and we'd fall madly in love.
If life were a fairy tale there would be birds singing and animals cleaning.
If life were a fairy tale our wedding would accustom a whole village.
If life were a fairy tale my heart would never be broken.
If life were a fairy tale our love would never die.
If life were a fairy tale we'd have a happily ever after.
But...your not prince charming,you have not fallen madly in love with me birds do not sing and animals do not clean,we won't have a wedding or invite the village,my heart will be broken,our love can't die because it never began and we won't have a happily ever after.....
Jul 30, 2011
Jul 30, 2011 at 3:06 PM UTC
"Oh say can you see,
our land of constant misery.
Where dreams are crushed and faded,
from the Nightmare we've created.
We are born full of wonder,
till our lives are covered with terrible thunder.
Hopeless we've become,
a country so accustom to glum.
We are taught education is God,
but really it's just a facade.
Learning was never the mission,
greed caused this division.
Smart kids made depressed,
over a school system we don't address.
They can't get the perfect grades,
so they turn to blades.
State testing, grades, our lives judged by paper,
so much stress caused, some choose to meet the Maker.
Future doctors shunned because of a bad grade in History,
they are instead forced to live a life of misery.
Colleges and the goverment want only the "best",
so who cares about all the rest?
The man who could fix the economy?
Put down because of a bad grade in Biology.
Speaking of money,
wanna know what's funny?
Our future crippled with debt,
but yet they tell us not to fret.
Other countries' colleges are free,
but us Americans can surely handle such a "small" fee.
The system feeds on our scores and money,
while some of us live on crumbs, isn't that funny?
We start our adult lives behind,
and the goverment doesn't seem to mind.
We have to make the change,
we surely can't be this deranged.
We are the ones who have to fight,
with ALL of our might!
Remember, life isn't fair,
espcially in this American Nightmare......"
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 6:11 PM UTC
A fresh start,
but dread,
deceit,
pain,
and longing,
hang heavy over the heads of the children.
It is not an issue of sanity,
of hunger,
of theft,
or of disease that concerns these young souls,
but an issue of the heart.
The blood of a precious love has been spilt,
the once white page,
splattered with lies.
Lust and longing,
two things young lovers know not about.
A trip to Seattle can change the fate of two people immensely.
He was a boy from a city,
A boy who dealt with the slurs *** and Flipper every day,
despite his straight qualities.
She was a Nepali beauty,
accustom to getting what she wanted.
They were stuck in relationship far beyond their control.
He,
desperately in love,
She,
dreaming of a boy out of reach.
One night,
Can change everything.
The air remained heavy with the wish for rain,
the sun tired from it's long day of work,
and the crisp white clouds begging for a breeze.
He,
on a plane home.
She,
wishing it were different.
Stuck.
Lust, Love, Desire, Deceit.
We all want to find that perfect someone.
But when you're only a babe,
don't take anything too seriously.
You have a whole life,
of guys,
and dolls,
just waiting for you.
Aug 4, 2011
Aug 4, 2011 at 9:30 AM UTC
Acclimate away you accustom to rabble streets, calculate thy cantankerous beef with another diabolic past!!
Destine connoisseur,
Old things get older while thy love stays newer!!!
What a hope to hope for something!!!!
Bare faced sophomore,
Soporific enducing trips to styles of maxed out galore....
Domineers on every corner,
Where youngest of mourners art ourn own children,
Gravitational to all pull ins,
Guided by ourn own sins we set our own adversities!!!!
When wilt we climb out of ourn own hutch?
Our brittled bunch doesn't think of two but one!!
Jilt all thou will falsifiers,
Killers and liars,
Were all wrapped tight to the same metropolis line!!!
Okaying thyself?
Canst we OK what's wrong and not fine?
Schzoid scribble ******* in,
Undeniable on planet green earth!!!
Underhanded,
Diploma drop ins,
Morphine moratorium so Grey thy sounds are!!!!
Yet thy smiles so beautifully wide!!!!!
Seek as thou finds,
Find all though you mayeth hide!!!
The scorch is over to be bear!!
Where is the opulent Queen who I seek?
Yet hasn't found me yet...
May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 9:33 AM UTC
Philosophers have out grown philosophy
So they set down their motions of peace
And pick up the mixtapes and cds
Of the artist that speak the truth
Tho, truthfully I believe,
Real artist can never become mainstream
Ideals of the underground
Shake the balance of the things
We watch on tv, Subliminal messages
and suggestive themes
I confess that I once was meshed
With the things they wanted me to be
Silent to world I had a voice but could not speak
Nothing special just a ***** from the streets
Had a lot of brains but lacked hope
So I became I refuge of anger and violence
A menace to society,
My hands seemed to find everything I need
My hope was stolen, So I stole whatever could fit in my jeans.
Misguided by the bad influence
As I grew I broke hold of the influence
Tho, still lived my life under the influence Sleepless nights, emotionless days
So I concocted a formula To make the pain go away
Let go of my anger Locked up my rage
Educated myself On matters of the new age
I found that’s nothing’s new
Besides the technology We’ve grown accustom to
People sale their souls
To get their face on the news
The media grabs their tongues Insolent fools,
Voices are silenced Or set to hide
When what they say Is what’s on their mind
The truth, Whispered to blind eyes
Now mentally I’m the Voltaire of this century
Learn your history I shall enlighten the
Dec 18, 2012
Dec 18, 2012 at 1:34 PM UTC
Let's bury the lovely inconsistencies
Leave the intimate fallacies to mystery
Then my perception of your passion fits with me
Red brick to mortar
you laid your deceit in a building order
Despite the inherent wrecking ball tendencies you chose to utilize
Blind to my youthful eyes
Let's brush the displaced fervor for lust under makeshift throw rugs
Void of emotion until you know no love
As exhilarating as the love you left long ago as leaves of dogwood trees in a late Pennsylvanian november
Rigid structures that wait a season to return to the lively form they remember
Bare white bark and dead extremities
Bare as your stockpile of passion meant for me
The surplus became a short supply when I left your graces
Amidst the sea of faces
You encounter in the places
You replace me to fill the voids and spaces
My memory laced with traces
Of your gentle touch, a cool spring breeze to my sun soaked skin
Recalling the ominous climb before the downward spin
We always seem to find ourselves in
Perhaps the fact the rush of the climb washes my mind of the inevitable collapse
I all too often push the moment from thoughts of past
The sinking in my stomach peaking the point of no return
As I set my eyes to the horizon and watch us burn
In the setting sun of an Middle eastern summer
Your lightning fast decisions to leave never compared to the rolling thunder
That swept over my soul
When you tore the hole
In the hazel eyed sky of my perception
with your ill fated rejection
Casting projections
Of your likeness in the constellations
Trembling fingers wait patient
Making comparisons and relations
Between every aspect of you I savored
To Orion's belt, cassiopeia, ursa major
Every slight shift in its luminous glow
A subtle reminder to me of the love you will never know
Intergalactic representations paint the stage for supernovas
Expunging the lovely aroma
I grew accustom to
Coming to harsh realizations there's no reciprocal paid in full for the love I loved for you.
Aug 2, 2013
Aug 2, 2013 at 7:04 AM UTC
We are so busy untangling wires
For little speakers in our ears
We forget to listen to the beauty of the earth.
We see it but ignore it every day.
So accustom to it's ever changing views.
But Music is every where
From the wind whistling through the trees
To the birds belting their beats.
There's no denying nothing is more beautiful then the sounds of earth.
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 5:19 AM UTC
Your standing at a cross roads
And you dont no which way to go
To the left is a road you've never known
To the right is the life youve lived and grown
As the rain pours down along your face
Your confused on which choice to make
Your scared of change and risk
You always belive youll fail the test
Even though your stronger than most
You dont belive you have anythin to boast
A predictiable stable life is what you want,
Descions and stress give you haunt
A fulfiled life is all you want,
My Wandering woman just follow your heart,
Dont worry what others think, its about what you want
Let nature be your guide and show you the way,
Choose a path and dont ever stray
Follow the sun the moon and stars,
Theyll always stay bright for you,
Just look to the sky whenever your blue,
Take a deep breathe and let it all flow out,
Before you make a descions no matter what about,
While your at the crossroads wanderer,
Always remember not to ponder,
Follow your gut and nothin but,
Dont let outside fears take control,
Your demons are no match for your heart,
Even though they may never let go,
Fight through them all with courage and wit,
Think on your toes and never sit,
Youll get through this wandering woman,
Never doubt what you are doing.
Never let your smile go dim,
It will brighten up any room,
Keep your eyes open wide
They are as blue as the sky,
Tread your gorgous soul onward dear,
There is nothing for you to fear.
As you stand at the crossroads before you
Remember these words i said to you,
If you choose the road you dont know
Or the one that youve grown accustom too
Just make sure that youll be happy first,
Happiness is your primary first.
Everything else can wait,
And i myself can always wait,
Ill wait until your seas have calmed,
Until it is safe to climb a shore,
Until your storm has subsided,
And you can no longer deny it.
Never the less ill always be by your side,
And for you ill hang up my pride.
You'll always have a place in my heart,
You always have right from the start.
May 25, 2013
May 25, 2013 at 12:50 AM UTC
News, news, news.
Why are you constantly the subject of the evening news?
Why is it a reminder of saga of a black man?
Inner city heartache.
Inner city heartbreak.
And we wonder , if the story is bias.
When they pointing out a black male troubles.
A hard honest worker trying to earn a dollar.
Just to be accustom by a no good robber.
A man refusing to live honestly.
Oh, saga of a black man.
When the news seems to be showcasing them.
Sure we could complain and states it completely wrong.
Sure we say it.
But when it seems to be youthful fools.
What is anyone suppose to do?
We can't say that its hard.
When we are are struggling to stay afloat.
But constant robbery of hard working folks.
Just won't be tolerated.
Yes, this is written about the saga of a black man.
Ministers preaching, but afraid to guide.
Teachers teaching, but many refuses to abide by the rules
Then dropping out and using any means to survive.
Again, saga of a black man.
Those that good in our society.
Gets lumped together will these fools for no apparent reason.
Gangs intimidating and harassing a few.
Because many don't intimidate those that stand their ground.
They know the odds they will be laid down.
We could say its because of fatherless homes.
Except many has a father to call their own.
Its just many trying to think they are grown.
Yes, saga of a black man.
Life is what you make it.
So don't get upset when your son is locked away.
Its just the price they must pay.
And they realize all their power are gone.
Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 11:51 PM UTC
Ive been sad for as long as i can remember,
Ive been sad so long when i smile,
laugh and joke people think ive gone wild.
Ive been sad so long ive become accustom to choosing the sad song over the happy,
staying alone rather then socializing,
Keeping quite and dying inside,
Ive been sad for so long, i lost hope for happy.
Happy is a far off image painted by my friends and family that is false hope.
Ive been sad for so long, happy seems like a myth, a story told around the campfire to distract you from the danger that surrounds you.
And yet, dispite all the sad and blue emotions, i felt happy while with you.
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 8:15 AM UTC
The next few weeks you seemed to live in my home
Learning our way of life, where we struggle and roam
And in that time we all were growing
Tony inside me I was already showing
and I became accustom to your hand in mine
and to the smile that left all of my fears behind
that day in the woods when I lost my head
you found my sanity, if not for you I might be dead
You kissed my lips and brought me clarity, lucidity
You set me free.
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 1:05 AM UTC
1. self-isolation
My mum tells me to leave the house more often and it’s not that I don’t want to it’s just that I can’t because the thought of only doing so makes my knees go weak but she keeps telling me to “just” meet up with friends.
2. not finding joy in what used to make you happy
It’s not that I don’t make plans with friends, because I do, it’s just that I don’t want to because I know that, as soon as I’m out doing things that used to make me happy and are supposed to still make me happy, I will have to pretend that I am, in fact, happy.
And it is exhausting.
3. insomnia
You tell me to sleep more because I look tired as if I am not aware of the bags under my eyes. You do not realise that they feel even worse than they look. You do not know that I am in bed early every single night because I do feel tired I just can’t sleep. Even though I am tired and my body is tired, my brain never is and I have tried reading and taking walks in the middle of the night and listing and counting sheep and insecurities and defeat and crushed wishes and possible ways to die.
4. thinking of death as “nothing big”
What scares most people is what intrigues me. I often find myself considering crossing the road right when a car rushes by or simply jumping out the window when I find myself in high buildings. It’s not that I want to die, it’s more that I am fascinated by how easy it is, opposed to everything else in life.
5. things that are supposed to be easy aren’t so easy any more
The biggest one is getting out of bed, I believe.
I have learned to put my alarm fifteen minutes earlier to let my brain and body accustom to the idea of having to face things that I don’t even know are going to happen. The fear of having to face the unknown is like a constant winter, freezing my throat shut and making breathing a whole lot more difficult than it is supposed to be.
6. being very aware of your breathing and heartbeat
I never noticed how natural breathing was until I started to have trouble doing so. Now it just feels as though my lungs and my heart are in a constant fight to decipher which is the strongest which leaves me in a constant battle of having to focus on my breathing whilst my heart is making me feel as though someone is repeatedly punching me from the inside.
I know none of it makes sense and even if I try to explain it all to you, you will still tell me you don’t understand. But frankly, neither do I.
Being so aware of my breathing and heartbeat also makes me aware of the fact that they are still going, and that is really the only thing that matters in the end.
They are still going.
Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 6:10 PM UTC
Why do you think you’re so weird all the time? it’s nothing more than insecurity
*not entirely, it’s society mainly, social norms can’t be something I accustom to
you know that flaley
spellcheck made it difficult because it changed your name to flakey
which would be accurate in description but from depiction you’re
there as can be which most of the time makes people think you’re
creepy which maybe you are or maybe you just care too much*
stop getting my ******* in a bunch
you’re not an uncomfortable pair of overalls
i like writing: i like
and stuff i feel it makes living seem real and etherial ******** like those rambles and made-up words like quwanamble
*this is probably why you didn’t make it to the second round in the poetry slam
and why you’re so embarrassed of your poetry because you know you go ham
in the most personal narcissistic way, kinda puts the bad at bay
but only until the vyvanse wears off and
your **** jar is empty
and your cigarettes have been smoked
and all your klonopin has been digested
and your bank account is empty
and the only thing left to take out your self pity on
is this poetry*
i like writing words like cigarettes
and rhyming them with causal **** like
regrets
i miss my studded cardigan, i regret leaving it at toads place
i regret smoking all those cigarettes
but that doesn’t mean I won’t smoke another one
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 10:10 AM UTC
I woke up to feel the pain in my chest.
It was the middle of the night, but I would not rest.
My eyes struggled to find the light.
But all they saw was the cover of the night.
The pain in my chest worsens, and my eyes fill with tears.
I am left in the darkness, with nothing but fear.
My body shakes and I feel all the pain.
I question myself, am I even sane?
But just as I thought I was crazy as could be.
My lips widen, and i start smiling with glee.
The pain has not left, but my mind has welcomed it.
My body has grown accustom to feeling it bit by bit.
A small chuckle escapes my lips, but my eyes are red.
I am crying nonstop and I feel broken... Dead.
The pain in my chest only seems to grow.
Like a stone being throw, to and fro.
My body quivers as I feel my blackened soul.
So dark and hurt, long since turned to coal.
My bloodshot eyes slowly begin to shut.
Sadly when I awake, I will still be in this rut.
All I can do for myself is grieve and grieve.
Because there is a stone in my heart... And it will never leave.
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 9:24 PM UTC
Protect these children,
Who have grown up without care,
Knowing technological screens better than
Loving stares.
These children who develop
Perverse minds before even hitting puberty;
That type of parenting is a disastrous,
Sick sort of cruelty.
Raise your children to know human touch,
And radiating love that comes from within;
Don't accustom them to finding enjoyment
In the virtual worlds they play in.
Children are still developing and
It is your duty as parents to protect their innocence;
To safeguard their beautiful minds that are barren of
The world's filth; falter not in this for even an instant.
To fail this is to admit that you have
Poisoned beauty in one of its finest forms;
I do not care what social rules you have to break,
Never break or conform.
If you succeed, your kids' light won't go out,
Even when they age and the world gets darker,
They will remember the values taught
By those who would not give into slaughter.
Do not slaughter innocence, for it seldom peeks
Through the rampant corruption of this world;
And I fear sometimes that it will be quenched
Or become undetectable like water vapor tightly furled.
Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 5:09 PM UTC
A jump rope lisping
Through loose gravel and rhymes.
Resembling orchestras and rapidly
Scratched-out novels,
Evolution of an indifferent ******
Delicate lacework stitched
Beneath the youthful
And frail. Disintegrating
Like a bird’s nest, once
Air conditioning expires.
Scampering between markets,
Wavering while waiting
In redundant lines, as you
Carelessly caress outerwear that you
Waited in line for yesterday.
Placing yourself professionally
On seats, beside plainly colored
Briefcases. Quivering arms
Tingle, as the blood
Relinquishes.
Wordless entities fill
Empty rooms, as pressure
Builds from the exterior and in.
Tarnished sneakers sink and slip,
Amidst cunning quicksand.
Mangled and thrashed,
Fabrics that used to be
Accustom to merry-go-rounds, and dry
Eyes. Gently laced hemming,
Lacerated at the seams.
Stroll down whimpering sidewalks
That sting for vibrations, fixed
By a stranger’s oblivious feet.
Jerking outerwear closer
As no emotions pass.
Synthetic joy overcomes
You, when droning
Minds think alike.
Wriggling and skulking
To cease the crunching of time.
Jan 30, 2012
Jan 30, 2012 at 12:40 PM UTC
i cannot explain this bitter feeling of feeling like you are being forgotten, like you don't exist for a moment to the person that you name stars after and all I know is that it eats you from the inside out starting with emptiness filling the stomach, a dull pain in the heart and making its way to the mind, filling it with cyanide.
it makes its way to the eyes and rivers spill (if they haven't poured out already) and it keeps you from feeling the least bit cheerful enough to do anything.
all you know it that you loathe yourself for not being intriguing enough for them to at least spend treasured seconds of such relatively short life to send a good night message when more than just dear seconds of your relatively short life turn into minutes; minutes turn into hours to ponder and puzzle, to overthink and look for keys that are not there.
i cant explain this poisonous feeling of not feeling enough for a person that sparks metaphors and poetry that will not be read by a single soul, not even reread yourself.
and this is where you crave another body, another soul, some peculiar and truly fascinating pair of eyes.
you sink yourself lower and lower than you accustom to until rivers turn into oceans and you hit the Mariana Trench.
your insides have tightened, your eyes have iced and you cannot feel a thing.
you just want to have the honor of reaching every corner and junction of that person's brain all twenty-four hours of the day like they linger in yours.
you want to have your eyes compared to at least shining stars like you compare theirs to galaxies, to dedicate at least precious seconds of their such a lightning life to you, just like you dedicate beloved hours to them.
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 9:55 PM UTC
God, keep my eyes raw
That I never get used to grace
Let me bow my knees every time
As I did the first time
Make my heartfelt plea for mercy
Be the same each night as it was at the altar
Let me never become accustom to your presence
I want to recognize my sin and brokenness daily
Not for the sake of shame but so that
My requirement, my need, no my desperation,
My insane, insatiable drive is to be near you.
That the scent of the light that kissed your face
Is all I need to ease the stir of my heart.
God never let me become comfortable with you.
That each time I worship is our first date,
Let me pray each time as though I don't know how,
Let nothing be routine, nothing be ritual,
And that my pursuit each day to keep alive the altar's flame,
Be the quest I make daily to follow you.
Mar 24, 2011
Mar 24, 2011 at 6:24 PM UTC
This is a song that I wrote while driving home
I realised everytime that I have to leave,
I've got to deattach more and more of you from me.
_____________________________________
I was just mindin' my business,
when you stumbled upon me,
& started throwin' rocks in my lake.
That's when I knew things started-- with a mistake.
That's when the tides started changin'
You decided to go for a swim,
My name started rearrangin'
at the touch of your skin
There was an undeniable shake
like something got shifted.
My thoughts trembled and quaked,
& I hate to admit this,
I don't want this storm to leave
Let its waves rise, and crash down on me
You're the hurricane reaching my shores;
I don't mind if the lightning strikes,
or if the thunder roars
Now your plannin' on leavin'
& I'd always seen it comin'
crashin' down every wall.
There was no rhyme or reason
in this disastrous fall
I was just mindin' my business
when you stumbled upon your way,
started kickin rocks in every direction
now we've got nothin' left to say.
You let the road take you elsewhere,
But the traffic signs weren't obeyed.
You started drivin' faster
& That's when Thursday's giant got slayed.
Now there's someone else that your after.
At first I thought I was broken and shattered.
So I have made new pieces,
& put them back together.
Let the wind take me away;
Seal my lips to keep me from sinkin;
The moon now shines brighter
& I'm accustom to the damage,
That has made my heart lighter.
I won't let go of the past,
It's all that i have
& you're out of my grasp--
Cause none of these storms
were meant to last
Apr 21, 2010
Apr 21, 2010 at 2:18 PM UTC
Standing silent close to Kaveri reach,
Watching vary fountain which night please,
In middle blossom of unsteady plant,
Being indulge with various vision haunt.
Along the beauty dissolve my offer,
I was infatuated in love indescribable manner.
No sooner than that music flow,
All at once water sparks glow.
By ogle display confirmed pair deadly pact rest.
And put hands tide round each waist.
Within period merely couple a day,
Agree to run both on single way.
A soaring airship disturbed our pleasure
Harshly snatched her looks from arms mine forever.
There were cloudy sky near those mountain
Violent storm too approached drain out plane.
How sad was thee trip to B'lore shine,
Made vanish present as fairy tale genuine.
Perhaps, none accounts definite what would happen,
Rare enjoys life replete, many fade uncertain.
It is pre-determines every lot before hence.
The man has skilled accustom structure accordance.
While an individual's regular purity convinced Him,
Only may trial complete his crack courteous whim.
Love and *** known as supplement,
Any be effective prior in adherent,
Just satisfaction of obstinate body illustrate ***
But love is lasting long till universe.
If a man bounds with sensual lore,
Ne'er gets limit, well! I am sure.
My love touch pride of wide majesty,
Doesn't need tedious effort advent sanctity.
Let proper close destiny matter jollifying.
Yet I shall preserve idol always undying.
Neither time could decay nor death blot,
Thy name will survive period breathes little art.
Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 4:10 AM UTC
I can do all but help you with your self inflicted schadenfreude mind...
..it's these days I barely muster strength and will enough to pardon myself from ill thoughts that provoke sadness...
still my thighs are chubby but have yet to fully throttle against one another
...aaahh the wavy thread of fat that gathers at the waist still evident as I try to find ways to camouflage....
another rising in my throat as I accustom myself to others self inflicting wounds...
....the phlegm and sadness finds it's way rising up to try to choke me
phlegm---like the water from the glass that trickles into the windpipe--- avoiding it's intended destination...
you know the one---the way it should help not hinder....
the way people should use kindness not splinter
Jul 22, 2012
Jul 22, 2012 at 11:41 PM UTC