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"antagonize" poems
Technology. Technology is one of those things that is good and bad. It can save lives and ruin them. They can make people feel happy, and sad. It can delete and it can send. Technology can destroy and create, it can rebuild and make things complete. It can make things crumble, devastate. It can knock things down, delete. Technology is a weapon that nobody can control., from cyber space and a nuclear weapon, It makes some people poor and drowns some in gold. You can ruin a life with a push of a button. You can ridicule somebody using a picture, text, post you can get so caught up in the moment that you forget what matters the most. That the people you antagonize are actually people, not just a receiver of a nasty comment. No matter what you think, words hurt, hiding behind a computer screen doesn't change that. Mental scars you can insert, if you know what to say, and how to act, . Technology is a force not to be messed with, it can turn a battle into a war, and not just a myth. And then you'll only hurt others even more. Be responsible while using technology, and maybe we can prevent the scars, and the victims that feel the need to flee. You can chose to let your malice go, let it drive away like a car, and instead prevent further hurt, and hopefully make the others see.
0
Jun 14, 2015
Jun 14, 2015 at 1:40 PM UTC
Technology.
I looked at society in the eye and asked her why she's so flawed. she glared at me before saying that I cannot antagonize her when all she did was give identity to a lost world
0
Jul 16, 2018
Jul 16, 2018 at 1:53 PM UTC
societal misunderstanding
come sit on my words dear reader like outdoor furniture for thin hips while spooky poets peer up under gaudy umbrellas nervous about making a good impression all of your hosts snuffed candles burning-out for metaphors and alliterations begging one poem at a time for a light that we will never see go ahead antagonize me you, who live in an idealized passed fear the future and ignore the present while i hide like a little girl   behind the bare legs of poetry that will show you! my head a hanging web that feels words like cosmic storms tumbling stone heads onto boulders of terracotta shards my ink smells like stinky saliva a dragging wet tongue of ambiguity a kabuki fight to the death unwinding paper machete viscera and plucking out make-believe hearts while gobbling fortune cookies containing   jokes, platitudes, and fortunes that never come true in a dreamland of masturbation's i'm trying to break something in you!
0
Jul 9, 2018
Jul 9, 2018 at 4:45 PM UTC
Spooky Poets
Her dark chocolate skin is an aphrodisiac Yet I cannot taste Awakening the beast within Dormant for so long He longs to play Her chest expands with every breath Beautiful skin tone and gorgeous smile Hair the way I like in pigtails Reaching down to her buttocks And her eyes? Big brown eyes They pierce through me like a sword Never letting up their gaze Seeing through to the beast within Roaring with intensity I long to feel, My hands travel freely to antagonize I long to taste, The forbidden fruit I long to see, Her body move beneath my touch I long to smell, Her chocolate skin moistened by the heat of immense passion I long to hear, Her moans and cries as she comes undone at my hand The beast wants to torture my beauty Whips and chains await you my dear Let's explore your pleasure together JM 4/26/17
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Apr 26, 2017
Apr 26, 2017 at 8:25 AM UTC
The Beast Awakens
With the sunrise: emerges a world of cruelty, Though natural like a running stream, and a flower’s beauty, We see it when fires rage on and volcanoes erupt; Even more when animals are maimed and poisons corrupt. Yet none I would venture, Can compare with human horror, Who spilt rouge over lust, greed, prose and power, They would gladly raze cities, massacre families and abhor, In cold blood or warm, killing more makes man dour, And Whether to catalyze or antagonize we’ve made time; seconds and hours, But are we a product of the world’s cruelty or is the world a product of ours? Perhaps it is our own; after all it is our curse, To evolve is to make great, even evil, So making greater our hearse.
0
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 11:31 PM UTC
Cruel
If you give a wishing stone, she'll travel out all on her own. She'll  leave behind the fear and pain, and keep herself from going insane. While her friends are getting diagnosed, she'll be somewhere in her boat. Maybe she'll have tea for two, but at least she'll know what to do. And they may ask, and plead, and beg to be in her world, but she'll certainly say, "Be gone, be gone, or off with your head." Which should be said, since they cursed her be dead. If you give a girl a wishing stone, she'll truly feel all alone, and for those who never cared "be gone!" The queen has finally sang her song. She was never a fool, just a withered small bud, and those pigs would throw her around in the mud. So sure she dreams and dazes off, but she can do whatever she wants. She earned a bit of recognition, for all antagonize and inhibition. Give that girl some cheer, she fought a war for all those years. Stop the hate for her being crushed, unlike some, she had no love! The glass shattered hard, it's no surprised it became shards. Giving time and yells, doesn't heal, it kills. If you give a girl a wishing stone, you've given her one happiness finally of her own.
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Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 3:43 AM UTC
If you give a girl a wishing stone
at your own peril! *dare to vex provoke, antagonize, exasperate that is what my words will do they won't irritate or annoy, bug or merely peeve, a simple bother insufficient vex your core, demand that you more than mere question yourself but riptide extracts the elemental, battery acid on the essence bared learn the power of crafting words for maximum effect torment, infuriate, expose yourself, what has lain beneath the skin, you will let me in, to let you out why play with poetry, the most dangerous weapon unless you nakedly intend to* !dare to vex!
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Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 8:00 PM UTC
dare to vex poetry
Sticks and stones Is what they say looking down as they throw A cliche for strength in her face Words they can't even begin to understand No matter how hard they try A pointless attempt Until they've felt the sting of words lash like a belt when they hit Degrading Battering Their every defense Weakening Causing doubt to the extent Where they look in the mirror and the voices They reflect Others opinions becoming the definition of what their worth is Sticks and stones Is what they say Oblivious to the fact she stares at a razor blade While inside her mind all the names grow louder Screaming Contemplating death of a being with no realized purpose Heartlessly their hate holds her captive Sentencing her to a fate of silence For whenever she opens her mouth to speak Automatically she considers the negative feedback she'll receive And quickly stops herself before the words fall out At least someone has self control The sea of insecurities she has to dive into everyday Is nothing To those who avoid her like the plague Quick with the stones they cast Ignorantly assuming That the flaws they antagonize her for are of her choosing So she's been branded Hot and searing What it feels like to be judged As they create opinions regarding her existence But a lack of acceptance is to blame She prays for anything Any way to escape The constant ache, the ever present pain Desiring to be invisible just for a day In the end it's just a wish Misunderstood she goes off like a bomb in her school One last cut, her last breath, She blew up like a fuse At all of those who ever judged her Tormented her everyday But when the report was filed and neatly put away It was her who was held at fault Never once was it taken into account The triggers that were pulled by her murderers mouths Sticks and stones That's all they said In one last guilt ridden breath As they notice her blood left on their hands Denying her perfection Allowing her to believe death was worth it To escape the hell in which she lived
0
Dec 11, 2013
Dec 11, 2013 at 7:22 PM UTC
Sticks & Stones
Sticks and stones Is what they say looking down as they throw A cliche for strength in her face Words they can't even begin to understand No matter how hard they try A pointless attempt Until they've felt the sting of words lash like a belt when they hit Degrading Battering Their every defense Weakening Causing doubt to the extent Where they look in the mirror and the voices They reflect Others opinions becoming the definition of what their worth is Sticks and stones Is what they say Oblivious to the fact she stares at a razor blade While inside her mind all the names grow louder Screaming Contemplating death of a being with no realized purpose Heartlessly their hate holds her captive Sentencing her to a fate of silence For whenever she opens her mouth to speak Automatically she considers the negative feedback she'll receive And quickly stops herself before the words fall out At least someone has self control The sea of insecurities she has to dive into everyday Is nothing To those who avoid her like the plague Quick with the stones they cast Ignorantly assuming That the flaws they antagonize her for are of her choosing So she's been branded Hot and searing What it feels like to be judged As they create opinions regarding her existence But a lack of acceptance is to blame She prays for anything Any way to escape The constant ache, the ever present pain Desiring to be invisible just for a day In the end it's just a wish Misunderstood she goes off like a bomb in her school One last cut, her last breath, She blew up like a fuse At all of those who ever judged her Tormented her everyday But when the report was filed and neatly put away It was her who was held at fault Never once was it taken into account The triggers that were pulled by her murderers mouths Sticks and stones That's all they said In one last guilt ridden breath As they notice her blood left on their hands Denying her perfection Allowing her to believe death was worth it To escape the hell in which she lived
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63
I desire to enfold you in my adoration My senses are enslaved to jasmine and your skin, covered in symbols Please, do not ask me to leave Feel me open the door to your inner warmth Elicit sympathetic gyrations, by stimulating your flesh You lost your innocence long ago Let me antagonize your lust Imprison you within my embrace, Increase the pace of your pulse, Elevate your heart rate, Coat your whole body in sweat, And **** screams from your depths. The sun will wane in the evening And we will harvest satisfaction on my bed And we will rise like the moon, and drink the shine she provides We will remake each other, a thousand ways And cast our inhibitions out the window, And get lost in the maze of each others bodies. You will die, and be reborn, in the flash of a quasar, We will cultivate and devour the fruits of our joining. We will set the controls for the heart of the sun Come rise with me, into the ionosphere,   Do not fear the suffocating void I will give my lungs to you, Each breath belongs to you already.
0
Aug 17, 2012
Aug 17, 2012 at 1:23 PM UTC
Rebirth
Pale skin, bright eyes. Awfully gorgeous, no surprise. She's looks stunning without even trying The type that wears perfume to bed A girl that wakes up with a truly flawless head. You're unknown to me, but I feel you have an unknown beauty. I'm gonna have to stop admiring from a distance And swallow my pride I just hope you don't antagonize. Pale skin, bright eyes. Awfully gorgeous no surprise.
0
Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 10:05 PM UTC
12th Month
my fingers tap dance on the keys hopefully the rhythm rhymes wrapping words round the relief my sans serifs have symbolized if i can alliterate the literacy & make allusions to my usefulness maybe it will hyperbolize the symmetry & let similes diffuse the mess so please believe in paper wings ink blots will not weigh me down i'll deceive with dialogue & themes while i antagonize the ground
0
Feb 7, 2010
Feb 7, 2010 at 7:44 PM UTC
paperwings
Here we go again Back and forth about the flaws I need to mend Just because I tend to enjoy the thought of my end And that I'm always dressed in black when I'm out with my friends You sit there and wonder what could've happened to that boy oh so happy Now a lover of anarchy and a hater of society How grandmother do you see such beauty in conformity? Have you taken into consideration this reality? The idea of order and balance is rapidly Turning into a travesty Because of mankind's brutality and false sense of morality There's vanity and inhumanity Against ones own sexuality And people have the audacity to critically antagonize those for their God given nationality While this wonderful country Goes further intro bankruptcy So continue to live your keen little fantasy That we are all living happily and equally Your views have such opacity That I can see right through your irrationality And your thinning mentality So please continue to criticize me Please provide some amnesty Don't listen to me I'm just crazy Remember? You can't trust me because everything I say is blasphemy So excuse my insanity And allow me to gulp down these pills so carefully Not to take more than I should be And I'll just vegetate amongst people like a cavity An outcast to your perfect society
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May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 10:22 AM UTC
Don't Listen to Me I'm *Crazy*
I break the stillness of the trees Climb the tallest of mountains Provide the oxygen to promise life I am weightless, free, light I whistle through the forests Awakening their eyes I antagonize hurricanes Destruction, darkness, death I sound the chimes That ring throughout The streets Awakening their cries I unlock the hold of the stem Empowering the dead leaves To fall upon the silent streets Coloring the autumn months Awakening their lives
0
Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 1:54 AM UTC
Wind.
Hordes of mangled marionettes hoard so many histories of mystery, That I beg in blank brandishing tongues, hounding the hordes most swiftly. Because I am a puppet master pioneering such a broad pallet of poetic pleasure, That surely the most silent shamans will sound their poignant sighs in solitude. And we've accosted such armies--allied only to destruction, Only to be found in fruitless dust. Demons will someday antagonize them in blissful anarchy, But for now we’ll pass an ancient altruistic remedy And leisurely lull the pull of destruction.
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Apr 20, 2012
Apr 20, 2012 at 9:10 AM UTC
4/20/12
A Cerulean precipice grows wrinkles. Blouses scatter into oblivion. Rusty chain, in the room with no time. Tea-kettles antagonize moonlit lovers. Shotglasses chase, through ghastly cornstalks. Cascading lights speak incantation. Flash dance to late night serenades. Phoenix plumes in Sunday hats. Laying poolside, argyle splashes. A magnetic lioness creeps. Daring glances spread gossamer lies. Alabaster halls consume infant minds, while Dusty caps unlock elusive touches. Black widows drink white wine. Anise waters drown lycra mermaids.
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Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 1:15 AM UTC
Sassafras Lightbender sobbed drunkenly.
this is an open letter and i pray you never find it because sometimes you just fail to see how deeply i feel things i don't think i give you enough credit for being there for me and putting up with my **** so here's an official thank you i ask myself very often, why was i drawn to you? why can't i tolerate others for minutes but can talk for hours with you i secretly wish things would've worked out between the two of us i secretly wish we give it another try but i guess it is what it is and spilled ink over my pages can't explain that my friends think i deserve better,sometimes i think i do too they think you act like a **** and don't value me maybe they are right sometimes i curse myself for thinking so much about you, antagonize myself because i care too much about you but i like my choices and i hope you like yours x
0
Jan 11, 2017
Jan 11, 2017 at 7:54 AM UTC
dearly beloved
I may mistake the modern day for Salem. We seem to be mirroring the crazy then verbatim. Back then, the hysterical banter was of witchcraft and bewitchment. Now it’s plotless allegations with no plausible way to prove it. Someone accuses another of a devious deed, No trial, no proof, I guess that’s no longer a need. Just escort them, with haste, to the center of the stage, Light the fire and burn them alive, Leaving the liar to tell another lie. The only witchcraft that I see, Is how people, so thoughtlessly, Get so passionate about events so petty, That they become a mob, a stormy sea. It has nothing to do with their lives, But they see a cause and sharpen their knives. A primitive desire to antagonize, What we believe to be bad, but based on lies. Truth has become subjective, Despite its definition, objective. I can spur a web of lies, Witchcraft in disguise. No need for evidence, it doesn’t have to be airtight, Just enough to incite the urge to fight. Isn’t that a sorry sight? “Burn the witches!” They’d scream in Salem. “Cancel them!” Is the modern verbatim. They don’t deserve to tell their side, Just shut them down and ostracize. Guilty until proven innocent, Dripping with bitterness and discontentment. It’s a lose-lose for the accused, At least they don’t meet their end at the end of a noose. Perhaps the witches we need to burn, Are the ones who accuse without evidence to confirm. Why is the burden of proof on the accused, And not the ones who defame and misuse, Justice for a few moments in the news? Burn naivety, which says that people always tell the truth, And understand that, sometimes, people are just cruel. Send the liars out into the center of the stage, State their case, their proof, and who’s to blame. Due process, not this foolish nonsense, Based on feelings used against us. Before we’re all bewitched by passion, Which overcomes our reason.
0
Sep 3, 2025
Sep 3, 2025 at 8:13 PM UTC
Witchcraft and Bewitchment
I may mistake the modern day for Salem. We seem to be mirroring the crazy then verbatim. Back then, the hysterical banter was of witchcraft and bewitchment. Now it’s plotless allegations with no plausible way to prove it. Someone accuses another of a devious deed, No trial, no proof, I guess that’s no longer a need. Just escort them, with haste, to the center of the stage, Light the fire and burn them alive, Leaving the liar to tell another lie. The only witchcraft that I see, Is how people, so thoughtlessly, Get so passionate about events so petty, That they become a mob, a stormy sea. It has nothing to do with their lives, But they see a cause and sharpen their knives. A primitive desire to antagonize, What we believe to be bad, but based on lies. Truth has become subjective, Despite its definition, objective. I can spur a web of lies, Witchcraft in disguise. No need for evidence, it doesn’t have to be airtight, Just enough to incite the urge to fight. Isn’t that a sorry sight? “Burn the witches!” They’d scream in Salem. “Cancel them!” Is the modern verbatim. They don’t deserve to tell their side, Just shut them down and ostracize. Guilty until proven innocent, Dripping with bitterness and discontentment. It’s a lose-lose for the accused, At least they don’t meet their end at the end of a noose. Perhaps the witches we need to burn, Are the ones who accuse without evidence to confirm. Why is the burden of proof on the accused, And not the ones who defame and misuse, Justice for a few moments in the news? Burn naivety, which says that people always tell the truth, And understand that, sometimes, people are just cruel. Send the liars out into the center of the stage, State their case, their proof, and who’s to blame. Due process, not this foolish nonsense, Based on feelings used against us. Before we’re all bewitched by passion, Which overcomes our reason.
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45
Ask me, ask me, what it's like to see every creature on Earth kneel before you. Tear my brain apart and search my stems; digging for gold and useless knowledge. Alleviate the pain I feel when I search the stars every night and find nothing; all useless to me, taunting me and telling me I am weak, that I'll never be something. Careful treading through my inner workings, as there are a many bumps along the way, caverns full of used hope, don't become lost throughout the day. Ask me, ask me, what it feels to be all important to the world. Rip me apart and find my insides, dig into me and feed on my life; destroy what I was and sell my soul, taking away my fight and strife. Antagonize my rude emotions, ask them to go outside- they will take you out there and beat your skin into hide. Fall onto the ground as they beat you, senselessly scraping you apart, and they will leave you for the vultures; they will feast upon your heart. You will fall in agonizing pain, and you will be a mirror of my inner workings; painful, without respite, and you will learn of all your shortcomings. Ask me, ask me, what it is to be immortal, to be ever living. As you lay on the ground, your blood staining the pavement, I watch you in your agony, and all I find is lament. I scrutinize your every cry of pain, watching in your sad display, I sit next to your wringing body, and only sigh in dismay. You are not what I've needed, you cannot help me escape- Maybe someday you'll help, but now you're only another gate. I leave you there on the sidewalk, dying without a breath. I walk away from you, never looking back at your mess. Your image of pain never leaves my mind, and yet I find it that I feel nothing all the time. I consider it thoughtless that you should provoke me as you do not know the monster inside, the one who destroys cities and tears down forests-nothing can hide. I wish I was God, and that I could fulfill your questions with honest answers instead of lies. Sometimes I think about that night, wondering about your pain. I can only laugh at your sadness, and it was all in my gain. Do not cross the bridge to me again, stay far far away. I am the River Styx- you never wish to cross my way. If I see you again, God help us both, I will rip you limb from limb and tie you to a post. There I will set you on fire, watching your flesh burn, and be lifted up into the smoke.
0
Feb 10, 2011
Feb 10, 2011 at 7:46 AM UTC
Somewhere Unimportant
Ask me, ask me, what it's like to see every creature on Earth kneel before you. Tear my brain apart and search my stems; digging for gold and useless knowledge. Alleviate the pain I feel when I search the stars every night and find nothing; all useless to me, taunting me and telling me I am weak, that I'll never be something. Careful treading through my inner workings, as there are a many bumps along the way, caverns full of used hope, don't become lost throughout the day. Ask me, ask me, what it feels to be all important to the world. Rip me apart and find my insides, dig into me and feed on my life; destroy what I was and sell my soul, taking away my fight and strife. Antagonize my rude emotions, ask them to go outside- they will take you out there and beat your skin into hide. Fall onto the ground as they beat you, senselessly scraping you apart, and they will leave you for the vultures; they will feast upon your heart. You will fall in agonizing pain, and you will be a mirror of my inner workings; painful, without respite, and you will learn of all your shortcomings. Ask me, ask me, what it is to be immortal, to be ever living. As you lay on the ground, your blood staining the pavement, I watch you in your agony, and all I find is lament. I scrutinize your every cry of pain, watching in your sad display, I sit next to your wringing body, and only sigh in dismay. You are not what I've needed, you cannot help me escape- Maybe someday you'll help, but now you're only another gate. I leave you there on the sidewalk, dying without a breath. I walk away from you, never looking back at your mess. Your image of pain never leaves my mind, and yet I find it that I feel nothing all the time. I consider it thoughtless that you should provoke me as you do not know the monster inside, the one who destroys cities and tears down forests-nothing can hide. I wish I was God, and that I could fulfill your questions with honest answers instead of lies. Sometimes I think about that night, wondering about your pain. I can only laugh at your sadness, and it was all in my gain. Do not cross the bridge to me again, stay far far away. I am the River Styx- you never wish to cross my way. If I see you again, God help us both, I will rip you limb from limb and tie you to a post. There I will set you on fire, watching your flesh burn, and be lifted up into the smoke.
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36
The struggle of life: to be you are, To those we aspire they always inspire Us to see ourselves for who we are - We are actions not dreams. My shot at integrity turns towards self-pity, authenticity turns to pleasantry, and off goes identity, I race to find who I am, the hope of a hidden gem, Digging through coal, I know where hopes may stem, Yet in dirt I am, and to dirt I still return, Why do I never seem to learn? Fear. It holds me from those I hold dear, It leads me to anger, it leads me to hate Of myself - I demand change yet I wait, My dreams to reality, if I could only seize fate. Day and night I obsess and I stress and I strategize, But the new day brings new fears to antagonize, And every day my vain jealousy swells, Of their perfect little lives, they do so much so well, Then the thought comes with fear and with doubt, Maybe they aren’t just a cardboard cutout. They are like me, full of doubt and fear, Where am I supposed to go from here?
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Nov 4, 2016
Nov 4, 2016 at 12:13 AM UTC
Identity
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
So many things I wish I could say Thoughts build up more day by day. I wish I could pour my emotions out to you, But I just don't know what you would do. Would you sneer, laugh and run the other way? Would you make fun of the things I'd say? Would you embrace me and never let go? Would you love me, and let the whole world know? Would you cry tears of joy because you were waiting on me? Would we become a couple like I wish we would be? Would you run and hide? Would you stay by my side? The thoughts antagonize me until I crumble, Even normal sentences, I fumble. How can I hide all the things I'm feeling inside? If you can't see it, you must be blind. I'd give up everything just to touch your face, To secure myself in your gaze. If I broke down and told you I loved you Would you break down and tell me you love me too? Would you cradle me in your arms? Would you give off all your boyish charms? Or would you reject me? Break all my hopes of things we could be? Do I take a leap of faith? Or in my self-loathing do I bathe? You've seen my good side, you've seen my bad; And being without you would make me sad... But my mouth stays sealed no matter what I do, Even though I just can't live without you.
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May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 8:39 AM UTC
Outcomes
Everything is a sweaty mess Moving in abnormal directions and seeping into The pores of the tiny imperfections Between you and I. It’s a good day to be enamored It’s a good day to distill all of the fears And just occupy these engraved spaces With all that is subliminal and grand It’s a good day to get lost in the alleys Of all that is rugged and real. All I hear is a rush of noise Going up at a speed which I cannot comprehend And all I see is a haze of burn victims In sterilized spaces. So **** bright. A blinding brightness so unreal And numbing in multi dimensions. When are we going to realize, That it’s all a game? A lucky hand of plastic waste. When are we going to antagonize, The sheer disobedience of everything that Is laid down upon our sensual existence? A stimulating fantasy of an experience Of being swallowed whole And in parts of distinct order. These words and sounds of these words And the way we chew on And on, until the bottom of our Voiceless chants. Everything is going astray But hey, Let’s rewind.
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Jul 28, 2012
Jul 28, 2012 at 8:11 PM UTC
Lather, Rinse, Repeat
soft ruins play through the hands of your silky palms whats here now has now gone nobody can come up with a definition to explain to me how exactly this could be wrong even though I have actually seen it all along from time to time I remember the bitter notion, how you let me dip myself in that bitter potion and theyre the ones left to deal with all the mingled distoration poor they for they are the ones who helped antagonize the poor mice how you let them roll their own dice , and never once did it land on anything more than 4 left them there all ****** up and high although they fed them all the plumbs they wanted never the less they were daunted mingling monstrosities venture into this cannabis along with the other creeps and that too isnt even good anymore audotioning to be the perfect everything we all fail every single time until it comes to that one audition when that person says she is perfect she is the one but I'm sorry audtionors judgers and the court but for now I'm done done for I have weaved my own little special web I make my own fiery bread and I dance naked in public in the vast imagination in my head your words and their cares are the last of the last of my concerns the ones that are meant not to exsist folding into peice by peice slowly streaming myself down the walls of this euphoric abyss I met this boy one time who had this little lisp he sat close to me and explained a lot of things I didnt know years years and more years later they in a way helped me grow you might not be able to tell me happy birthday next year
0
Nov 2, 2010
Nov 2, 2010 at 7:58 PM UTC
Interview
soft ruins play through the hands of your silky palms whats here now has now gone nobody can come up with a definition to explain to me how exactly this could be wrong even though I have actually seen it all along from time to time I remember the bitter notion, how you let me dip myself in that bitter potion and theyre the ones left to deal with all the mingled distoration poor they for they are the ones who helped antagonize the poor mice how you let them roll their own dice , and never once did it land on anything more than 4 left them there all ****** up and high although they fed them all the plumbs they wanted never the less they were daunted mingling monstrosities venture into this cannabis along with the other creeps and that too isnt even good anymore audotioning to be the perfect everything we all fail every single time until it comes to that one audition when that person says she is perfect she is the one but I'm sorry audtionors judgers and the court but for now I'm done done for I have weaved my own little special web I make my own fiery bread and I dance naked in public in the vast imagination in my head your words and their cares are the last of the last of my concerns the ones that are meant not to exsist folding into peice by peice slowly streaming myself down the walls of this euphoric abyss I met this boy one time who had this little lisp he sat close to me and explained a lot of things I didnt know years years and more years later they in a way helped me grow you might not be able to tell me happy birthday next year
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False flags and panic. Fear the other. Hate. Be a Patriot. Act. As you are told. When the people are frightened, they obey. These are the times that few men try. At all. No one can own you unless you want them to. Gun in hand worth ten senators. Boom. Gay Straight Male Female Black White Muslim Jew. Exactly the opposite of E Puribus Unum. Stir and stir, yet the *** does not melt. Too many soups only antagonize the cook. The fires of discord sizzle and fry. Dare not to think, just buy and buy.
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Jun 30, 2016
Jun 30, 2016 at 2:01 PM UTC
“Ball Of Confusion”
once the thoughts start you cant stop them they antagonize you they push and push and push until you break now you're sitting here blood stains on your shorts your blade in your palm you're shaking they did it again the thoughts, the hurt you no you hurt you
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Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 1:18 AM UTC
1:17am