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"aparent" poems
I remember when you would hit my chest you would cry and pray or whatever you felt that day you'd look at me with those disgusted eyes and say why dont you love me well loving you made me this way As every insecurity you projected unto me led to my undoing we fall apart when I look at us I  see the flaws you made aparent I sigh woe is me blah blah blah I hid behind the humor but you made me this way i remembered when you wanted my defensive but when I did you became offensive I dont understand or  just wasn't comprehensive of what mistakes I made you were attentive that id never make this error again I was set up for submission or was that was your true intent nevertheless you made me this way I sleep next to you but the only presence is air when I reach for your hand you're not willing to share id be there when you didn't want me to but if the roles changed I aint sure what you'd do this way of life isn't just about you you made me this way to stop loving you
0
Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 12:02 AM UTC
This Way
under the aparent darkness, the nacar red of your lips give me ligth. between the tender and quiet kisses of fire, you absorved my darkness there was no magic, it was just that, two dark beings absorving ligth. a beast with a loewe head, desolated, tormented, for his pain. between the lost and desdain, and with desire sticked to his skin. the ligth in absolut darkness, years looking that skin of silk, those lips sweet as honney. the silky and perfumated lips, of a beautiful shadow, a lioness in the dark. and who will know, only darkness, about that silk skin, that give ligth, in a dark nigth. a loewe, the lost descendant, looking the way, and to that silk skin, of honey gold and fire. a lion lost in shadows, looking that skin, that as divine grace, or gifth of friendly gods. found me, catch and love me in the shadows, rigth before dawn, giving life to the blackened heart. and the flux of life, of strength, to resist mi strokes, controling herself tenderly. never scared of my roarings, only the beautiful fire, she give me, with her nacar red lips. her femmale lips, a beast, beautiful with her skin of silk, perfumated and HERMOSA,  A MUSE IN THE SHADOW. tenderly resisting to the attacks of a beast, thirsty of her, her *** her blood, kissing her skin inch by inch. the HERMOSA shadow, with silk skin, and nacar red lips, resist even thou, she wanted to lay next to this beast thirsty of her, her body, her etternal legs, her *** of MUJER HERMOSA, the beautiful and sweet lioness, that was mine in absolut darkness..
0
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 2:06 AM UTC
en la oscuridad, in darkness the translation
under the aparent darkness, the nacar red of your lips give me ligth. between the tender and quiet kisses of fire, you absorved my darkness there was no magic, it was just that, two dark beings absorving ligth. a beast with a loewe head, desolated, tormented, for his pain. between the lost and desdain, and with desire sticked to his skin. the ligth in absolut darkness, years looking that skin of silk, those lips sweet as honney. the silky and perfumated lips, of a beautiful shadow, a lioness in the dark. and who will know, only darkness, about that silk skin, that give ligth, in a dark nigth. a loewe, the lost descendant, looking the way, and to that silk skin, of honey gold and fire. a lion lost in shadows, looking that skin, that as divine grace, or gifth of friendly gods. found me, catch and love me in the shadows, rigth before dawn, giving life to the blackened heart. and the flux of life, of strength, to resist mi strokes, controling herself tenderly. never scared of my roarings, only the beautiful fire, she give me, with her nacar red lips. her femmale lips, a beast, beautiful with her skin of silk, perfumated and HERMOSA,  A MUSE IN THE SHADOW. tenderly resisting to the attacks of a beast, thirsty of her, her *** her blood, kissing her skin inch by inch. the HERMOSA shadow, with silk skin, and nacar red lips, resist even thou, she wanted to lay next to this beast thirsty of her, her body, her etternal legs, her *** of MUJER HERMOSA, the beautiful and sweet lioness, that was mine in absolut darkness..
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52
i am not prayer; i am poetry and exist within (and outside) a realm of preconceived notions about choices from august nights and i still experience that uncomfortable humidity that pours from hot breath and hollow hearts have you ever stopped to think that i am more than a look on my face (an aparent sign of ****** activity) and that the feelings we share are not mutual i am sexless and will not submit myself to: *** of sorry/ of fifty mile travels/ or because you are homesick/ or because you walked me to my car parked 50 feet away because i am more that fifty feet and i am more than prayers and poems
0
Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 11:57 AM UTC
prayer
Of all the worlds I fall into none. But space and time have no hold on me. I watch from above in aparent silence and wonder how I can get back to my body.
0
May 25, 2016
May 25, 2016 at 7:20 PM UTC
Space
Science explains life as a series of reactions. Some are inevitable. Some are just chance. Science is supposed to be a explanation, But somehow, Impossibly, Mabye just because I am me, Science has failed me. That day in 7th grade was just a fleeting feeling Or so I thought. A crush is just that. A confusing, scattered mix of feelings, that normally, Science could explain. Dialated pupals, Normal. Fluttering heart? Normal. Flushed cheeks? Still normal. This is what science explains. Perfect sense. But what about what it can't explain. This little fleeting feeling can Turn a normally sane person into a aparent lunatic . Turn a single word into what seems like a thousand buzzing Coded messages. Turn a slight stumble into a worldwide tumble. That quiet little feeling, That you told to just go away, Has apparently decided instead To just keep growing. To defy rationality To blurr the line between just a flutter And the unknown. Even after a year of starving that feeling, And you think, its finally gone With a mixture of disapointment and relief. Just to find out that it was hibernating And ready to make a comeback. Why Do these things That just start as just a little feeling Defy science And turn into what could be described as Resiliant, controlling, Exiting, Odd little feelings turned creature That seem to have minds of their own And a twisted sense of humor. Things that some might Call the begginings of love. One of the few, Or perhaps many, Things that are truly undefineable.
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Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 2:19 AM UTC
The undefined creature
Science explains life as a series of reactions. Some are inevitable. Some are just chance. Science is supposed to be a explanation, But somehow, Impossibly, Mabye just because I am me, Science has failed me. That day in 7th grade was just a fleeting feeling Or so I thought. A crush is just that. A confusing, scattered mix of feelings, that normally, Science could explain. Dialated pupals, Normal. Fluttering heart? Normal. Flushed cheeks? Still normal. This is what science explains. Perfect sense. But what about what it can't explain. This little fleeting feeling can Turn a normally sane person into a aparent lunatic . Turn a single word into what seems like a thousand buzzing Coded messages. Turn a slight stumble into a worldwide tumble. That quiet little feeling, That you told to just go away, Has apparently decided instead To just keep growing. To defy rationality To blurr the line between just a flutter And the unknown. Even after a year of starving that feeling, And you think, its finally gone With a mixture of disapointment and relief. Just to find out that it was hibernating And ready to make a comeback. Why Do these things That just start as just a little feeling Defy science And turn into what could be described as Resiliant, controlling, Exiting, Odd little feelings turned creature That seem to have minds of their own And a twisted sense of humor. Things that some might Call the begginings of love. One of the few, Or perhaps many, Things that are truly undefineable.
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56
I cannot lie about my station in life. I know that it is the direct result of my choices. At some point I made a choice that did no good, though at first, right then, in that moment It seemed alright, ill effects, truthful toll unnoticed. And I will not pretend that I' ve made so many, hundreds,.. thousands? Some are worse than the others, few are borderline as at their worst they do no harm. Then there are the milestones. The horrendous game changers that narrowed options. I look back, now, from this, my aparent station. My role in the scheme of things. Who I am and all that I lack, with my head lowered, and my eyes squeezed tight reliving, regretting... in acceptance. I made my choices and I earned all that I have, Or worse, all I'll never get. Long ago I made these choices at a great expense. In the heat of those moments Their ultimate and yet to be completed prices they seemed weightless, and had no warning tags... Well, all but the addictive types that we are told of. Warned, schooled, shown facts, pictures and advertisements But the those were for the others, Not a master of his this world, his life, his was supposed to be bulletproof, unbeatable, perfect.. Well to that kid I say hello,.. from this low, unwanted and barely capable existance. Long ago I made these choices.
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Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 10:32 PM UTC
Long Ago I Made These Choices
They say real eyes realize real lies Social improvement disguised as gentrification. Pandemics and self contained isolation, Still doesn't stop the industrialized racism of our nation. It's like they want me to be black, without being black, they say black is as beautiful as the night sky, but at the same time will make comparisons to my skin being the same colour as under the bed you made it so lay in it. dont try to justify your actions though the scapegoat of ignorance. Its not bliss, its blisters. The ice and fire of your words cause a chemical reaction that is more than skin deep, Internally screaming, angry tears from my third eye weep. But better not make a sound or a peep Being an angry black man can prove to be fatal. Labeled as a criminal but our melanin deficient counterpart's are simply mentally unstable, our innocence and resonable doubt was left in the cradle. Our depression was only made aparent after the dissolution of our family was concieved post-natal, but they still want us to be grateful? surpirsed that the thoughts from the recessess of my mind are ones that are hateful, thinking that these blanco diablos have nothing but ill itentions serenading me with affection and attention, while simultaneously executing their decpetion But.... real eyes realize real lies.
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Aug 7, 2020
Aug 7, 2020 at 8:08 AM UTC
Untitled