"allowances" poems
I'd like to thank eveybody for their time,
as we conduct this interview in rhyme.
If you have a disability such as mine,
Everybody wants to pry into your mind.
So in this piece im going to address,
all the questions im asked, i intend to put that to rest.
But i can't do this alone, i require some help
Bluestar , thank you so much for providing assistance
Yes thanks, ladies and gentleman, here we go,
What we have here is a fine young specimen,
A young age male with a disability no one knows,
And what is it, you ask?
Why, I don't mind if I do begin to explain him
Epilepsy, that's what it is,
It's what he's got inside
And before you start to ask, no it's not a mental disorder
Do you want to hear the facts or think the fiction, you have to decide
Shall i dispense with the facts?
Hmm with the mighty sword of knowledge ignorance i shall attack!
Epilepsy is a neurological disorder,
It causes me to be prone to seizures.
Not the kind that causes the removal of property,
But occasionally my brain will fry, and my body go crazy,
Like a vampire exposed to holy ether
But don't worry, he's not going to die,
If you're with him when it happens you cannot run and hide
He'll need you to support him, to make sure he's okay
Make sure things are out of his reach and do not force him to obey
In conclusion dear friends, im just like you,
I may have neruological quirks, but im still Neroamee Alucard,
Not some show at the zoo,
So if you know somebody, with any form of fault or disability,
Dont patronize or be overbearing,
Just make allowances for their need
Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 1:57 AM UTC
Paragliding is a matter of maths.
You launch, fly, land, bash or crash.
How you meet the ground depends on maths.
Maths is key to survival.
Allowances for maths out of your control, will drive your fun.
Wind, heat, thermals and other pilots in the sky.
Unforgiving ground is gravity's final aim.
The wind will blow, thermals will lift, but gravity's maths will always win.
Your time in the air, and possibly life's end, will depend pilot error.
But gravity's maths doesn't care, he is all.
Gravity is annoyed with paragliders aiming at the ground with miss.
Gravity has calculated it's maths.
He spies those who fly forever, and wishes them on the ground.
With silence and invisibility, he draws those pilots in.
Some follow the maths and land with ease.
Some ignore the maths with peril.
Gravity's maths will always win.
Sep 8, 2020
Sep 8, 2020 at 8:29 AM UTC
whenever i go online shopping,
no matter if it's
high end, low end, or in between,
i would always sort the items
from low to high.
not only because it's a safe way to shop
and that it makes me look like
i take budgeting seriously,
but that's the only thing i can afford.
talk about me,
a high middle class kid that tries
DESPERATELY
to not spend so much on
the things he wants
rather than the things he needs
while still unemployed
and in college
as well as getting many allowances from his parents.
you are COMPLETELY allowed to say
that i am spoiled,
i understand and am aware of that.
as i scroll down and observe
the price tags slowly rising up,
$10, $15, $29.99, $49.99, $79.99,
until it hits $3,000,
i not only thought,
"how do you think that
it was a good idea to make that
simple, plain jacket
in such a high price?"
but i also had to admit that
i really did wanted that jacket
since i thought it looked cute.
the problem with that is:
most of the stuff i wish i have
in my wardrobe,
they would all usually be so expensive,
especially since most of the stuff
i want to have is from
high end streetwear brands.
i would see almost every celebrity
wear my future wardrobe,
all looking so confident,
trendy,
iconic,
stylish.
oh, how i wish to be like them, sometimes.
how i wish to be rich.
how i wish to not worry about saving money.
how i wish to just show off iconic outfits
from amazing high end brands.
how i wish to have what i always wanted.
i know i should be content
with what i have.
i mean there always will be
other solutions to wear something
inspired by designer clothes
i've dreamed to have.
but **** would i look good in that
$3,000 jacket.
Jan 25, 2018
Jan 25, 2018 at 1:51 AM UTC
I recently got reminded... Oh how I am caught
In a delicate web of disillusions
Make me see what is actually not
Make invisible my heart's secret questions
Been successful in putting aside all grief
But truth has it's way to make you pay
You can bury all grievances; you can mask all disbelief
But it'll all catch up; these things you've kept at bay
Make your silly compromises
To have the the best you just make allowances
Keep up your futile pretences
Accommodate your selfish preferences
Day had dawned where each question need their answer
Questions I've shrugged and left unaddressed
Indistinguishable when fact and fiction begin to blur
When dreams and reality have coalesced
Tonight I lay with the load I bring
Body asleep with my heart fully awake
Blessing or curse, this rude awakening
Decisions and choices left for the following suns to make
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 9:18 AM UTC
Dear Sabah,
For the past forty-four days I have been waking up at dawn so I can reap sunlight the way an old peasant in a jasmine farm does.
My brother said he might have seen sunflowers but he never saw suns flowering; “the sunlight you reaped is useless” he said “why are you collecting it?"
My grandfather collects stamps, my mother collects china sets, my father collects rare books, my uncle collects money, and my grandmother collected hearts. “Because I want to be like Teta”, I answered him.
Dear Sabah,
I have been waking up at dawn, and I can assure you that they lied about dew being playful.
Dew doesn’t slide on a rose petal the way a child does in the park.
Dew sits still in an ungenuine grace the way an aristocratic woman does in a third cousin wedding; Dew is my aunt Fatima in her brother’s wedding.
However, they didn’t lie about how early birds get the worm..
This morning, I saw a bird eating two worms, and the eldest of my cousins cutting off his brothers’ allowances right after taking over his father’s company.
Dear Sabah,
I read in The Little Prince that people like watching sunsets when they are sad; that he watched the sunset forty-four times in one day when he had a fight with his rose.
So for the past forty-four days I have been waking up at dawn and morphing my notebook into a camera lens.
I now have 44 synonyms for your name, and each evening, I read the scribbles of morning I managed to pluck: fresh, fragile, blue and pink hues, childlike, clean grass, birds chipping, family…
Dear Sabah,
This morning, when my uncle told us how his son is now running his company, my 11 year old brother asked me if our family is a monarchy. “No, Hady” I said, “our family is an Arctic morning; for six months straight it is a cold dark environment, and for the other six, the sun doesn’t set.”
Oct 15, 2018
Oct 15, 2018 at 6:21 AM UTC
WHISTLING AND SNIFFING SIMULTANEOUSLY
Whistling and sniffing at the same time
Can’t hold hands or rather get married
United and collaborative in any case
This duo may perhaps land into the life of some person
The kind of man whose who acts,
Performs duties of the shepherd on the flock.
Like his initial master,
He condemns wickedness,
Goes against what is religiously evil,
And exults the righteous.
But he soon he craves for another pair of his robe
For he does accumulate an avalanche of resources,
His eyes are soon blinded.
Would his robe evade being soiled?
Co-operative sniffing and whistling,
Can hatch into temptations to anybody,
Even the half-human, half God
Did he not get tested in the wilderness?
Our big man opens his eyes one day,
Finds himself campaigning and competing for,
Trying to woo for citizens’ keys,
Essentials for serving the people in a wider circle.
Perhaps his whistling guides his path.
Brings him in the companionship of
Other servants of the people.
Any devoted service present in that house really?
Brotherly whistling and sniffing,
May make one’s conscience slither backwards,
Two or more steps into mud.
He is now influential,
A famous societal figure.
His fat salary seconded with some allowances.
Or even thirded with public developmental resources,
Guarantees him total luxury.
Is this not an opportunistic opportunist?
Our Sniffer and whistler is contended,
Complacent with his success.
Jubilant with him servant is his ‘first Master ’
For keeping to the ‘sacred’ scriptures.
The vehicle which carried him straight,
One way to heaven gets crippled,
It can’t manage to hit the road
Like its American, British and Chinese counterparts,
His sincere promise goes unfulfilled
Unmet due to his pretentious pretence.
His ‘second’ Master gets extremely mad.
For loyalty and faithfulness denied.
And furiously plucks him from glory.
Simultaneous whistling and sniffing,
The ‘initial’ heaven can’t simply put up with them.
A wise servant of the masses
A true leader should only whistle at a time,
Sniff at a time.
But not sniffing and whistling simultaneously.
May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013 at 3:28 AM UTC
I am the first to admit
I’m not God’s gift to women
It’s more like a penance when I’m involved really
And I am certainly a little rough around the edges
But there are certain things you can do
To make yourself more respectable to the fairer ***
Like: be wary of your weight and what suits
Don’t loaf onto a bus with your gut
Hanging out, wearing a stained Hawaiian t-shirt
Sweating like a hog in the midday sun.
I know ladies make allowances:
Ineptitude
Dickishness
Bravado
Rudeness
Even arrogance.
But even our fair compadres draw the line
At sheer disregard for personal hygiene.
I wonder what people think
When they go out dressed like that?
They’re either one of three things:
Very ignorant to what women want,
Femo-phobes,
Or they think they got something ******* special
No woman can resist.
May 31, 2012
May 31, 2012 at 11:08 AM UTC
Forcing an alignment of corporate resources
for some theory of best fit correlation
doesn't work on Kingdom People
when using an unspoken method of tabulation.
If Life is about true spiritual growth,
then why do ministries attempt to pigeon-hole
not making any allowances for us
to develop, expand and break our current mold?
Despite multitudes of outcome possibilities
the Church seems to suffer bouts of paralysis
from the continued mashing of talents and gifts
resulting from unexplained Presbyterian analysis.
There are many ministry leaders who speak of vision -
Their tone indicates that the laity is completely blind and numb;
their message is clear - the Body is not interested
to reach the Earth before Kingdom Come.
We are souls with great, untapped potential
and not just elements of an array.
Despite our abilities and life experiences,
our dreams and desires we're not allowed to convey.
For a failure of Church motivational tricks
comes from cramming God's People into a human matrix.
Author Notes:
From the book: Reaching Towards His Unbounded Glory
The ISBN is: 1-4196-5051-3
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2006, All rights reserved.
Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 7:19 AM UTC
We're new at this,
so please make allowances,
to why
your so shy,
and I smile up like an idiot
into your ocean misted eyes.
That shade,
the same,
as Forget-Me-Not's
but they should be called
Make-Me-Forget-my Name,
as I'm so busy tracing the lines of your face.
What do we do?
As we fumble and skid, were both like Bambi
on a slippery slope,
Launched into foreign territory.
Amateurs adventurers,
as we sit arm to arm,
my nerve endings singing,
at your very proximity.
I'm new at this,
so please
for me
make some allowances
and if it's not much to command
Could you maybe
Hold my hand?
Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 8:59 AM UTC
Small town sounds
Unlocked doors
Not that many cars.
Main Street grocery store
Nickel candy bars.
Church Street,
“Sunday shoes”,
Parents stood outside and smoked,
Kids caught with cigarettes
Would have allowances revoked.
Corn Growers
Push mowers
Friday football games.
Everybody, Everywhere,
Knew everybody’s name.
Summer shouts
Paper routes
Cub Scouts once a week
Boys and girls in sixth grade
Dancing cheek to cheek.
No shirts
Blue jeans
Walking through the beans
Witches, ghosts and scary things
Every Halloween
Greased pigs
Little League
Swimming lessons in the lake
Talking back to teachers
Was a BIG mistake!
Teachers had hard paddles that
They were not afraid to use
Parents told them,
“Go ahead.”
And they did not refuse.
Bicycles everywhere
Pocket knives
Truth or Dare
Water balloons,
Kids Cartoons
Fishing in the creek
Not it
Gravel pit
Games of Hide and Seek
Bible School
Golden Rule
Jesus Loved Me This I Know
Several generations
Watching children grow.
Laying on a blanket
Watching shooting stars
Teachers went two towns away
When they went to bars.
Home grown tomatoes
Juicy burgers nice and thick
Eating home-made ice cream
Until all of us were sick.
Nine o’clock bedtimes
The nights were very still
I still hear the small town sounds
I guess I always will.
PwL 5/5/15
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 1:49 AM UTC
One of those days you notice most things through yesterday's eyes
In a moment you feel distraught in someone's decision said it applies to you
Feeling blah
a place of intense competition or ruthless struggle for survival,
a gathering place for the unemployed.
They sweat for the sun and hurt for dirt, cry for work and smile to struggle.
Money accumulate and it resolve in one big circle.
Your concerns and criticism is tossed like eaten herbivores, not your biggest fear
Individual self made issues stir as you consummate with one's in the same environment.
A battle of nice and not-nice to talk, smile, converse in a suite of respect.
But allowances is as far as you allow not wanting to be consumed.
It's like a jungle out here!
Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 12:28 PM UTC
First impression, first date.
You come late, a major sin in your own lexicon,
tango dancing redesigns your hair to curls atwitter,
despite remedial ministrations in taxi,
you text apologies profuse en route,
but you have been outed, and
I am charmingly amused
A warm December eve,
a local Italian eatery,
table by the window,
red wine floes melt your defenses,
allowances made, you're intrigued,
enjoying our dinner of
charming amusements
But really you like my understated swagger.
I like that you like my understated swagger.
Walk home armed, arm in arm,
your paintings I must come see,
Immediately (!),
You offered this as desert, instead of biscotti,
a tour of your new apartment, sleek/simple,
messaging that this is me,
if you ever want to be invited to stay
Inspection over, my smile is a knowing
that this first foray deserves a concessionary accolade,
So in a mode so gallant at the front door,
Adieu you are bid, and devilishly clever,
I merely shake you hand,
leaving you delighted by this gallant, modern,
charming amusement
Looking at my watch, three and half hours
have passed.
Maintaing that in your ways set,
Early on, I challenge your rigidity,
Turning your hair from curly,
Into spun straight Rapunzel gold liquidity,
By asking politely, humbly, on bended knee,
You give in happily,
Charmed, amused at my ferocious insistence
Looking at my watch,
I too, am delighted, charmed, amused, to discover,
It seems my watch is running slow,
For it is now three and a half years later
Jul 4, 2013
Jul 4, 2013 at 3:42 PM UTC
i never knew when forgiveness of ******
deviations equated to
the obscurity of citizen allowances,
whereby i was excused from doing ****
like i was excused from having a conscience
stealing your herd of sheep...
but i guess i must have a medieval mentality,
******** childish, having to interpret
the profanity of the tetragrammaton
with the canonical gospels' acts of dispersion,
you said ****** were akin to
meat cleavers... fair enough...
god forgives me butchering you like you
were forgiven having a frolic in the hay...
and we're all one big happy family...
'cos i swear that's when ambiguity on the dogma
entered and the nadir was expressed:
sin - ****** ambiguity - equated itself
to crime - citizen ambiguity -
you want to put that forth to Buddhist
authority chaining ******** bandwagons of
thieves en route to the Tibetan Vatican?
only so much is allowed,
given you're championing one Jew of your fancy
while giving others the gas-chambers...
ain't it just Prince's 1999... we're gonna party
like it's 19-99.... i think you mistook sin with crimes...
that's my "doctorate" opinion...
you said **** with thieving being synonymous,
Christ was saving Greek intellectual culture
with the pederast **** to boot...
St. Paul was encouraging circumcision,
twat-like people with a statue of Buddha asking
whether head meant the shaved one ******
or whether it meant the prickly one gagged on
was on the cards - goose-pimple **** frostbite...
the moment when the forgiveness of sin
turned into the forgiveness of crime...
hence such ****** freedoms right now,
and a... ah... whatever... of challenged citizenship,
why would i? why would anyone even bother?
**** it, let's go crazy, Las Vegas is waiting for us,
the cowboys will never churn out a Thatcher
to "rule the world".
Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 9:31 PM UTC
oh right... no social criticism... just a bomb will do? mm, yes, a bomb will fair much better... no social criticism... and only the political class are allowed a backdrop of satire... now i have to be thankful for a 7 year old schizophrenic simulator, the "inability" of the medical profession to misdiagnose... oh yes... i'm really thankful for all of that.
philosophy and its rigid vocabulary,
clutters up the range of ******
expressions, scientific atheism
is still measuring the non-existence
of something via the occator crater
of ceres as: ah... look at that... a cute puppy!
enlaraged eyes of a kitten pleading!
ooh ah! so so cute! mm.
actually, in #a, philosophy is the original
divination of divisions - centimetre in man
to distinguish him into a spider-web
project of thinking, feeling, consciousness,
sentience, animate, zombie,
it cuts cuts in, slashes away at so many
meanings, you end up with shorthand
of 140 character allowances -
so this scientific negativism - i can't
see any scientific positivism right now,
calling something cute as a puppy will
not really do justice to the measure of things,
unlike atheism in humanism,
where the projection of will is paramount
to define life, of how one human influences
another, if at all, atheism only matters in
how humans politicise, i love the fanciful
individualist definition that does not
really wish to congregate... and there we have it:
atypical to the English, the invention of
utilitarianism, the best moral action is
to be polite, or simply nice, to say
'yes, thank you' and 'no, thank you',
to say sorry a lot when commuting in the
tube... ah, mm, oh... and the other grand
pillar of utilitarianism? REMEMBER PERSONAL
SPACE... well spinoza could tell you a lot
about this principle when the rabbis
****** him: about how people were not
supposed to stand at a certain distance
near him... sardine **** of human sweat
on the tube during rush-hour.
Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 9:55 AM UTC
A warmth I can’t equate
to anything that
blossomed and I could touch as real
in my life to date.
Watching an ocean dance at twilight,
shifting and settling into myself;
a return home
after a long retreat.
Filled as much as one can,
living in a partly broken glass.
A warmth I can’t equate,
that smile that kept the streetlights,
still humming on their own,
late at night.
An absolute joy,
to see me,
that kept the sands still and made
the waves unafraid to keep crashing on.
The light brightening settling eyes,
on me,
like the happiest moment
of any day,
is when I’m right there,
walking along your way.
A warmth I can’t equate,
settled side by side
wrapped in fresh air and
twinkling planets high above,
breathing down a clear night,
on souls forever fixed
in an achingly sweet moment;
watching paths cross,
almost collide,
with words of love and loyalty,
grace, beauty, adoration, bliss,
transfixed on the glimmering promise
of single coloured roses
as gifts
for a sweet girl
you say
and a whimsical romanticism not dead.
A warmth I can’t equate,
how unearthly beautiful
you let me feel
in your eyes;
love professed on empty beaches,
showered attention on a
long-time lonely girl
you melted and folded
into a goddess.
Love professed
for a patched-up
lady singing melodies,
and holding herself together
with decisions scorching her back,
confused nettles of feelings and
obligations, allowances,
grievances and sadness
bearing a weight on her slender shoulders;
She’s a creature holding aloft all the
wonders and hearts of decisions left to face.
A warmth I can’t equate,
as I am
the protagonist always
failing to make the right decision,
lost and redeemed and burdened
in every instalment;
no one has made me feel as wondrous
and special,
in all the times I’ve had lovers sit before me.
But this protagonist,
has not had the greatest
trove of romances, nor the heart
to carry much more fears;
pieces are given away,
in every extended touch and heartbeat,
so please beware,
what’s left.
A warmth I can’t equate,
right now, lost in every state,
but hope I can at least reciprocate,
in some way after healing has mended
and stitched
and time has played it’s course to warm cold feet.
This lady is afraid,
of how quickly you might have fallen,
for all her wise, sad songs.
A sweet, unsettling fantasy made reality.
But she knows.
Of this warmth.
No one can really equate.
Nov 4, 2016
Nov 4, 2016 at 7:58 AM UTC
You Nasty Peoples
You Middle and Lower Class
You Labour Class
First you asked for Education
We gave you
Then you asked for Jobs
We gave you
Then you started getting salary
Because we gave you
Then you requested pay hike
We accepted and gave you
Then you asked for health benefits
We gave you – 'health allowance'
Then you asked for other allowances
We still gave some of them
Then you asked for promotion
We gave you
Then you started asking for bonus
We gave you
Then you asked for retirement pension
We gave you
Then you asked for retirement gratuity
We gave you
Then you asked for death gratuity
We gave you
We noticed, You always demand
You open your mouth more often
We accept your right to live
But you live to ask for rights
You always try to gain
You always try to bargain
You feel yourself very smart
But we are also not fools
If you further dare to ask for more
We will ****** all the things we gave
Slowly slowly, One by one, Step by step
We have many ways to deal with you
We have divided, we have ruled
We will divide and we will rule
First we will ****** death gratuity
Then retirement gratuity and pension
This process will go on and on
Like a ball rolling on and on
The more you demand
The more we ******
No you can't equate yourself
With our emoluments and positions
We are the Boss, We are special
You are the slave, nothing special
We will enjoy what we want
You have to bear what we want
Never try to act so smart
We are much smarter than you
Note it Down, Make it clear
You are the Beggar, We the Giver
We have the Power, We have the Money
We have the resources and the Law
And this is not so Funny.
May 19, 2019
May 19, 2019 at 5:42 AM UTC
Sick of the lies and hopeless dreams of youth
I'd give it all to realize the one and only Truth
Sick of compromising with allowances of regret
I knew you before we ever met
Because, inside, I'm you, you're me
It's been so since before eternity
A bit of the one inside the other
One and the same, we are the lovers
Duality, polarity, dawn the crystal clarity
Find the balance between mildness and severity
Opposites attract, but dissonance detracts
Seek to realign and catch it in the act
Before the balance shifts and tilts the scale
The Sun shines bright, the Moon glows pale
Yet each has its place, outside as well as in...
There is no Darkness without Light, no Virtue without Sin.
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 3:49 PM UTC
I'm a ******* wreck.
Call the Captain, his ship's hit shore harder than anyone expected.
There are times when I don't want to break up lines;
I think it's more poignant as a whole.
Hole
Heart-shaped
Boxing belongings
Following the followers of the followed
Allotting allowances for the anonymous
I have books overdue
And talks long past stale
We could stay up for eternity, and not touch... and I'd be fine.
I'm slowly realizing how much I don't want ***
Not that it's not a desire,
Don't misconstrue
I just don't seem to need it as much as you, or you, or you
Call it implausible impossibilities
Dear Billy the Opossum
I'm watching over shoulders
That are not my own
Sitting in abandon cabins
Crying for home
And with every red streak on my face
Is another mistake I'm attempting to erase
Suicide sounds best in depressive tonalities
If I played the xylophone would you still be proud of me?
I'm loved for reasons unknown
And spiritual for reasons I don't speak of
Intimacy
A part of me
I'll soak you in
Like fine atmosphere
Or finer wine
I'm white carpet
You are Pinot noir
Apr 23, 2013
Apr 23, 2013 at 2:01 PM UTC
The arrogance is the most fascinating thing to me
when I think of equality
race
gender
class and such
It is the arrogance
the arrogance that a brutal military could earn anyone really
its no merit to evolution
or the continuity of nature
cooperation is the fittest
so the arrogance of
“Black lives matter more than white lives”
signs
being held on busy streets crowded by people who feel the need to construct whiteness
all day ever day
getting paid very little and sometimes even nothing
to construct whiteness
some get financial aid
to construct whiteness
some get allowances
loans
some inherit money to construct whiteness
some are also just really dumb
some do it intelligently
some started ivy league institutions
to construct whiteness
some people ask me to construct whiteness
and I
say
**** you
I think insurance should cover treatment for whiteness
and cover the treatment for the damages done by whiteness
Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 8:16 PM UTC
imagine she is as thin as a doe
glassy eyes like a dead bird
it is not here that you will kiss her,
but here, tomorrow
what is a place but a time?
do not glower at me, my lord,
i have given my soul to you.
it is quiet, even when we make allowances for
pain.
imagine she is as thin as a doe
glassy eyes like a dead bird
skin not pallid, but pallor;
pink veins and lips full to taste your sinew
an embrace allusive of sublime ruptures
sallow eyes and face,
she growls at you, a low tremor
Feb 23, 2017
Feb 23, 2017 at 6:13 PM UTC
O Darling,
let me configure your world
with my saucy liberties.
Let me paint you a picture
of what you may be lacking.
Let me describe in
cryptic sensual-detail
some escapades you may like.
'Cause in doing so,
you allow me the privilege
to display my talents,
the sensuous-things
I've so desperately been
in need of,
yearn for &
dream about.
You are My Dear,
a Precious Sweet-Angel,
for your allowances
given to me.
Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 5:54 AM UTC
get more of the catalyst,
this leaves the kids less allowances,
you know the treasure trove,
its sickening hold,
our finger grow cold,
as our shadows do fold.
its a chapter too bold,
this storys too old,
you keep wanting me to do the
t plus o ld,
but ***** how many times you gonna wear an oldie.
smell that moldy,
lonely,
calling
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 4:35 PM UTC
Sift thru these depressing records
Burn the bad ones darling,
Discordant sounds amongst waves of human speech
Allowances built upon misery's need for company
Pressed wax with aim's to spark set-backs,
Step back,
See the bigger frame
Record upon your mind
A classic masterpiece for the day.
Oct 14, 2012
Oct 14, 2012 at 10:22 AM UTC
Am I mistaken?
You put my body above my face.again.
My anatomy does not keep me from my autonomy.
Objectifying your own daughter and constantly telling her she better run.
Meanwhile expecting nothing from the son. Teaching nothing to the son. Boys,darling. Boys will be boys.
"Have a nice day at work,honey today you might get shoved into that van."
I find myself flinching when joggers come to close.
There was never that plausibility of consent.
Don't let anyone touch you. Never ever let anyone touch you.
Your virtue will have dissapaited into the ether.
I will be ugly.
I was 15 when I let a boy touch my breast.
I cried for 3 days.
When allowances had shifted I had found myself more vulnerable.
But I always was more vulnerable.
Ready to decay at a young age through a impotent sense of resistance.
Be ****** Spit. Clench your fists. Smoke your cigarettes. Wear big boots. Dont look soft because they might think you feel it too. I thought i would catch fire i thought i would die
Especially when it seems so real.
This culture of predatory vultures looking to the elipses that make a chest. Nothing about my life has ever told me that I was allowed to feel safe. That it was okay, to permit a lover to trace my sillhoute with fingers crowned by tiny nails chewed up from a similar confused and scathing perception of the universe. In this house I was never told that I would find someone who I might feel love towards,or that anyone could entertain the thought. It seems as if you would rather I be taken
And kidnapped
Then ever give myself away.
Just so you would know i always have to stay.
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 2:52 AM UTC