"bimbo" poems
Widgets and gadgets
gizmos and apps.
Whatever happened
to cause the collapse
of my simple world?
What happened to the
simple pleasures?
The joy of simply living;
the joy of simply loving?
All consigned to the limbo
of a thousand electronic
gizmos.
I used to love a lass.
I gave her all I had
in time and space
and multiple delights.
But it is not enough
to satisfy her nights.
Without apps
she snaps.
That *****
needs her gizmo.
Without widgets
she fidgets.
She must have
her gadgets.
I’d like to bury hatchets
in her gadgets.
Sep 28, 2016
Sep 28, 2016 at 7:02 AM UTC
I may not do things traditionally
But I'll get them done eventually
If they're the things that are right for me
I'll be okay and set myself free.
In this life of turbulent strife
pitted and ripe with rotten tripe
a sunlight bright pains my sight
but your soothing ice cools my vice
The aid you paid is not ready made
it gives me hope I'm not just a dope
your love is more than a pity rope,
slivered and raw it gives me splinters
But luckily i'm in for a treat
more than a friend sent to mend
oh yes, you're more, my candy store
settle my sweet tooth you randy *****
unwrap the rainbow you insane *****
ride the rhythm of my *** prism
a rod shaped crystal built like a missile
cocked locked and loaded it cant miss-ya.
explodin' and remoldin' the fabric of time
an infinite blanket wraps us entwined
in a frantic romantic purely satanic
ritual of reality, the utmost sensuality.
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 11:51 AM UTC
pretty pearl anklet
adorning your foot
tiara crown
princess ***** cow
all dressed up in a dark red
cherry sequined
come **** me dress
black lacquered nails
body beautiful prepped
for ordeal by gang bang
and pretty girl strangle
torture blood ****
wiggle wiggle
**** pink aglow
glistening hive
your mouth piece
bilingual
fucky and baby talk
all manicured and bejeweled
glitter and tears
***** food
inch worm lover
little bludgeon
your excited
for a bed of nails
what a luxury
legs spread wide
***** drool melt
your scent
a silk **** cocktail
in thick puce
stained pink milk pom poms
****** beyond tabulation
come sweet cow
its time for slaughter
down on your haunches
you look up
thrilled
dark dreams do come true
i love you
like the bog loves bones
embalmed in spice
Dec 23, 2016
Dec 23, 2016 at 10:20 AM UTC
Ignorance is bliss,
really,
more like Stupidity.
an aspect,
benefiting a person,
like cold sore,
irritating,
an annoyance,
peevish to your life.
Face it, honey,
you’re as fake,
as your personality.
You’re plastic,
I could melt you,
if I truly desired,
setting a lighted match,
to your artificial body.
Please, take some advice,
lay off the make-up,
you look like a clown,
maybe a **********
Tanning is acceptable,
but looking dark orange,
is outrageous.
There is no need to look,
like you just rolled in bag of Doritos,
that’s Snooki’s Job.
There is more to life,
besides appearances,
waking up like P. Diddy,
sweet heart, don’t like be Kesha,
it’s ******
Partying is enjoyable,
but not necessary every night,
consisting of drinking,
frat boys, jocks, pretty boys,
saying “oh my god”,
or “I broke a nail”,
and precarious ***
I know you were raised with Barbies,
but you don’t have to be one.
Barbie is a piece of plastic,
containing no originality,
with an unfeasible body,
and isn’t real,
much like yourself.
Stop with the act,
no one wants to be,
around a person,
who is often intoxicated,
narcissistic,
and a ditzy *****
You can be a girly girl,
but be genuine,
stop being a follower,
if everyone jumps off a bridge,
then you’ll be splattered,
upon the ground with them,
no use to anyone.
My words are probably useless,
going right through the holes,
of yours ears,
attached to the plastic head of yours.
Anyways, I tried,
as excruciating as it was,
to reach out to you,
who are living this life,
of alleged greatness,
more like a travesty,
in my eyes.
Hopefully, you’ll change,
wake up from this social stupor,
become yourself,
regain your individuality,
and cease to be,
a Barbie doll.
Jul 15, 2012
Jul 15, 2012 at 2:54 PM UTC
Nelle case, dove ancora
si ragiona coi vicini
presso al fuoco, e già la nuora
porta a nanna i suoi bambini,
uno in collo e due per mano;
pel camino nero il vento,
tra lo scoppiettar dei ciocchi,
porta un suono lungo e lento,
tre, poi cinque, sette tocchi,
da un paese assai lontano:
tre, poi cinque e sette voci,
lente e languide, di gente:
voci dal borgo alle croci,
gente che non ha più niente:
- Fate piano! Piano! Piano!
Non vogliamo saper nulla:
notte? Giorno? Verno? State?
Piano, voi, con quella culla!
Che non pianga il ***** Fate
piano! Piano! Piano! Piano!
Non vogliamo ricordare
vino e grano, monte e piano,
la capanna, il focolare,
mamma, bimbi... Fate piano!
Piano! Piano! Piano! Piano!
5.2k
Dorme la corriera
dorme la farfalla
dormono le mucche
nella stalla
il cane nel canile
il ***** nel bimbile
il fuco nel fucile
e nella notte nera
dorme la pula
dentro la pantera
dormono i rappresentanti
nei motel dell'Esso
dormono negli Hilton
i cantanti di successo
dorme il barbone
dorme il vagone
dorme il contino
nel baldacchino
dorme a Betlemme
Gesù bambino
un po' di paglia
come cuscino
dorme Pilato
tutto agitato
dorme il bufalo
nella savana
e dorme il verme
nella banana
dorme il rondone
nel campanile
russa la seppia
sul'arenile
dorme il maiale
all'Hotel Nazionale
e sull'amaca
sta la lumaca
addormentata
dorme la mamma
dorme il figlio
dorme la lepre
dorme il coniglio
e sotto i camion
nelle autostazioni
dormono stretti
i copertoni
dormono i monti
dormono i mari
dorme quel porco
di Scandellari
che m'ha rubato
la mia Liù
per cui io solo
porcamadonna
non dormo più.
5.5k
I've got a Chopper,
You can have ****** *********** with it if you like
It's got a trug, a Jew's harp that rattles the windows
And creatures to make it mosey around crack
I'd stretch jeans cheesecake abutting you if I could, but I used plastic toast
You're the kind of ***** that thrusts into *** my bodiliness
I'll swag you Joe Soap, lock, stock and barrel if you rut slags
I've got a disguise it's a torso of a Irish bull
There's a slit high up the skirt Miss World's bra-burner and gross
I've grappled page—3 girl for bouts
If you think Miss Universe could spasm creamy then I guess Mr Universe should
You're the kind of ***** that slides in with my wads
I'll swag you Joe Soap, lock, stock and barrel if you rut slags
I **** a chimpanzee and he hasn't got a stage—door Johnny
I don't copulate why I cock—a—doodle—doo him Gerald
He's inseminating à la carte geriatric but he's a voluptuous chimpanzee
You're the kind of ***** that stuffs *** my gallons
I'll swag you Joe Soap, lock, stock and barrel if you rut slags
I've got a Welshwoman of pornographic Casanovas
Here a Don Juan, there a Lothario, prognosticators of obscene persons of opposite *** sharing living quarters
Beg a bonk if you be on heat, they're on the back of the *****
You're the kind of ***** that spasms indoors using my lump
I'll swag you Joe Soap, lock, stock and barrel if you rut slags
I **** custom—built dead men of doo-wop passages
Incognito Muses, faceless ching, most of them are Barbie
Let's **** into the odd kitchenette and **** landlady creature
Mar 30, 2010
Mar 30, 2010 at 3:46 PM UTC
I was three years out of high school and finally getting
the chance to grow up. I’d been ready since before
graduation day. Everybody in the world was certain
that I would fail. I couldn’t succeed. Thanks for the vote
of confidence. I am proving them wrong. I’m succeeding,
maybe not thriving, but succeeding right before their very eyes.
Success is living on my own. Being able to do every household
chore on my own. Success is getting myself to and from where
I need to be in my broken down, beat up wheelchair. Success
is budgeting my money each month. Success is not getting killed
and ***** on my walk home from work in the dark. Success is
living up to their standards and way of life. Success is faking a smile.
I’ve learned more about life in the last eight months than ever before.
I’ve made mistakes, just like they said I would. What they didn’t count
on was me learning from those mistakes and picking up the pieces.
They told me I wouldn’t last more than a month, six weeks at the most.
I would ***** up, fail miserably, get hurt and hospitalized. Thank you
for the boost of self-esteem. It’s made me tougher than steel.
I may not be the perfect student, skinny blonde ***** award winning
page designer or most eloquent writer. I may not speak Spanish fluently,
have loads of extra cash lying around or a motorized, state of the art
wheelchair. Stop telling me what I need. I don’t need or want any of them.
Success is living how I want to live. Success is a productive day when I want
nothing but hot tea and soft music. Success is having the confidence to ask
for help when I’ve been told I shouldn’t. Success is making friends who can
read through my masquerade. Success is facing the consequences. Success is
found through red ink marks and piles of papers. Success is not letting those
who don’t believe in me get the best of me. Success is sunshine on a cloudy day
Aug 9, 2010
Aug 9, 2010 at 9:29 PM UTC
I am a white, Jewish girl from Florida.
Hit me.
Hit me with your white girl jokes,
Your Jewish American Princess stereotypes.
I will giggle and squeal right along with you.
Because yeah,
I do order white chocolate mocha frappuchinos from Starbucks,
I Instagram pictures of my nails,
I take selfies, whiten my teeth, straighten my hair,
Shop at Forever21 and drink Naked Juice like it is my job.
Yeah, my daddy buys me things,
I don’t pay for my data plan,
There’s no way in hell I would drive a sedan,
I wear Nike shorts and avoid any nearby cameraman,
And let me tell you, I love jamming out to old school Britney Spears.
Hit me one more time, because none of that means I am any less intelligent,
Any less diligent,
Any less likely to face judgment
Than any other slice of diversity around me –
I am a white, Jewish girl
My nose is not its own cartoon,
I eat bagels (but I absolutely hate lox),
I’m not tan or even the least bit tinted,
And god knows I don’t wear Uggs.
Tell me I need to get married young,
Major in business,
Wear clothes that leave me airless,
Get some of that European gracefulness,
But don’t tell me I’m dumb.
Don’t tell me I’m not thoughtful.
I’m a white girl.
Take a glance at my resourcefulness,
Understand my goals of being ambitious,
Get rid of your own stereotype-inducing cockiness,
And notice me in all of my flawlessness.
Because I am a white girl,
And I am unique, strong, inventive,
Empowered, passionate, adventurous,
Indomitable, unbeatable.
I am an individual –
Not part of some whole that you put me in to stabilize your mold,
Not the example of a societally scatterbrained ***** meant to be your centerfold,
Not a previously worn-out piece of clothing thrown to the gutter unsold,
Rather a human being of my own rules and my own morals
A human being with ideas and intelligence and power,
A white, Jewish girl,
A person.
Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 5:31 PM UTC
HaHA, I've done it! I've created a device
That can tap into my subconscious
and translate it for all to hear.
I will win the Nobel Prize!
I will be rich beyond my wildest dreams!
People will LIKE me!
So let's see here....I put on the cap, set the throttobombulator to 8.
Adjust for fuzzy dialation...set the circuit threshold to .79, make
sure the lucid translation synapses are firing...and yes. The next
words you hear will surely be written in History books one day,
much like Thomas Edison's first phonograph recording, or the
first telephone call!
Neural connection is active. Transmitting
**TRANSGENDERED KANGAROOS FORNICATE IN THE
PURPLE SHADE OF BETTE MIDLER'S THIGHS. PLEASE
PERFORM ******** AT THE BEHEST OF BUDDHIST
MONKS WITH LISPS. COUNT TO TEN AND BECOME
A BUXOM BLONDE ***** WITH BOUNCY *******
WHEN THE CLOCK STRIKES TWELVE, CINDARELLA IS
ON HER KNEES AND ELBOWS BECAUSE IT'S ******
HARD TO GET LOW ENOUGH TO PLEASURE A DWARF**
Oh dear. This can't be right....now where's that 'off' switch?
**JACK AND JILL WENT OFF THE PILL SO JACK COULD
BE A FATHER. JACK WENT DOWN TO LONDON TOWN
AND PUNCHED THE DALAI LAMA. EDIBLE *******
GIVE YOU INDIGESTION. DO YOU KISS YOUR MOTHER
WITH THAT MOUTH, BECAUSE YOU SHOULD. (AND USE
SOME TONGUE THIS TIME)**
Oh My...Ladies and Gentlemen, It's clear that my invention
is experiencing technical difficulties. If you would please be patient---
**SATIN BRAS DON'T CHAFE. NONE OF THE SMURFS
HAD BLUE ***** THANKS TO SMURFETTE. I WONDER
WHAT MARY MAGDELINE WAS LIKE IN THE SACK? **
STUPIDSmashPieceSmashof GARBAGESMASH
DoNT LikE iT? tucK iT bAcK!!
Connection Lost
I...erm...clearly have some more work to do before it is ready
for the pubic--er..public. I have run into some...translation
errors...and need to re lubricate--CALIBRATE a few things.
Please don't tell my mother.
Feb 8, 2012
Feb 8, 2012 at 12:12 AM UTC
It's Sunday
The Mexicans are all doing their laundry
Little girls with shiny bows, sweatpants and sequined tops
Happy smiling faces
Lead the brigade
Mothers follow
Shopping carts on the brink of exploding
The wheels about to blow
Tuxedo shirts, soccer uniforms with the words ***** PAN monogrammed on the front, mismatched socks, and pajamas with feet
Colors
A mess
Cheap laundry detergent stuck on top
I rush down to the laundry
They always take the best machines
I find my place
Throw my little load in
One person does not have that much
I never realized how alone I was
Until that moment
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 12:54 AM UTC
Liz Taylor was a fuckpig.
Forbes used to call me and say
"Let's double-team this dumb *****
And we would double-team that dumb *****
Give'er a real goin' ovah.
Sometimes in a limo.
Sometimes on a motorbike.
Really tore that thing up...
.. and today we rededicate this park after
one of Hollywood's finest. Ladies and
gentlemen may I introduce to you "The
Liz Taylor Grand Canyon National Park."
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 9:52 AM UTC
Gwuts on gwanilliagax
Ready hot gwip
Trill on the vibrant note gabeeboh
What a thril it is to be in nice gazeebo
What a punk that doused on the free zobe
What punctillious panagax that frigged all the wets out
And when the trip to the sausage make didnt pull down alaz
Alaz, I am the wet tug.
Alaz, the sprig of wheat ***** taint.
Didn't you say you loved me?
Well, the bruts on the wagon sauce now
Didn't me have a big one, tug one, sauce one?
Well elemayo gwit gwits gwit gwits gwit gwit.....gwit
Embryo collecting on the branch of a saggy
My baggy be ripped, dripped all the can out
Me step on a puddle, the wet one, the biggy
My pets on the leg, rub, all on it sticky, how ******
He chugs out a wet belch and creams on the gricky
How quaint is his fat bristle comb, of his **** I am assured
This great honkulous tank sub that brits on my dimbo,in limbo my ship
It greats on the grates treat me to a sub snack ship ***** ***** factory get e
Tag me on your webpage, then **** me silly
Aug 16, 2011
Aug 16, 2011 at 11:01 PM UTC
body genre
at a carnal address
sensory and sensuous effects
materiality
digital images
anthropology of desire
she tied a knot around his ****
a wedding band made of licorice shoelaces
for the art of tongue and ****
driving it in her pink throat
back and forth
like a shift stick
flared for the retina
a puzzlement and fascination
haptic screen of fiction
adventure of being pinned down
an unpremeditated punctum
fucktum sucktum
the stadium of desire
a shop window
banality transcending banality
the literal transformed
into the ******
a ****** smiles red
girl in a suitcase
with a hole to ****
a treasure chest
the leaky boundaries of erotica
sing in
musical blood whistles
I packed her up
limbless and threw
her on the bed
and with tender kisses
of endless
wet permutations
banged
three oozing holes
into finger ponds of oblivion
she taunted
age play- ageless
***** class
a weird ethnicity
from Timbuktu
racially motivated lust for a
conveyance of
fleshy intensities
way past help
a big **** dips
a tender dimple
like a barnacled whale
in a deep dive
the violence of
a preemptive strike
for everything imaginable
across raw lips
in her cosmos
of swinging hips
and cross bone riddles
oh happy *****
suicide ******
at the computer screen
**** bullets birthday cake
in a River Styx of flames
Jun 21, 2020
Jun 21, 2020 at 4:40 PM UTC
I took this job down at the Corinth Mint
after my marriage went on the skids,
I was bored at home on the DPB*
and I was sick of those two **** kids.
Jace shot through with this ***** called Glauce,
her name brings to mind an eye disease,
and her old man wants us out of Corinth
even though I got down on my knees.
I feel like the serpent who was Golden Fleeced
when Jason slipped the snake oil past it,
but, since I've been working at the Mint,
I can spot a twenty-four carat *******
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 11:57 PM UTC
***“We're all mad here.”
Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland***
Go ask Alice
about the adventure,
how she fell from grace
into that ungodly space
amongst mad people
places that go meow in the night
yesterday, she was a different kind of gal
believing in the impossible before breakfast
out of touch with smoking caterpillars
she left the rabbit hole
with new frightful insight
it hardly matters which way you go
it's always a huge puzzle
It was no secret she was entirely bonkers,
whence the queen squealed off with her head
Mad Hatter served tea
with uncommon nonsense
whilst chasing dust bunny shrooms
chatting backwards,
then asked curiouser & curiouser
'why is a raven like a writing desk'?
They all jammed yesterday and today,
into clouds, sand & sea, so that
eventually, logic and proportion of the Red Queen,
only made eccentric sense to the dormouse
feeding your head...
&
uncle Walt getting richer on the hookah smokin'
blonde ***** pill popper,
~too bad the moral of the story is frozen for posterity...
Jan 21, 2014
Jan 21, 2014 at 9:31 AM UTC
Venting.
They never see the hollow me..
deleted twitter, but i want you guys to follow me..
Usually up late,
worrying about my luck, wait..
there's a starving child somewhere..
meanwhile i just ate..
****** *** my phone bills high, And my ex girl is taken...
meanwhile a small girl in Nepal still feels her world shakin...
Going 80 on the freeway, i just wanna bowl now..
While the folk down in Philly prayed the train would slow down...
Bothered by the shade of a new building...
while people in Haiti are still building..
still building...
while i buy building blocks for my nephew, hes 1.
while the people down in Baltimore burning buildings for fun...
really?
burning building for fun?
Whys the CVS big, but the school with no funds?
but they say the solution is, taking the guns...
they took the guns in Chicago, but left fatherless sons.
Eyebrows on fleek but societies bleak.
the devil takes a seat in a heavenly street..
now were all cursed, but im watching netflix on my sofa..
Chilling bumping Sosa, living by the park where they ***** my neighbor Rosa..
Gotta remind myself daily...that im blessed to a fault..
because theres stillborn babies, whose heads rest in a vault..
boys in Africa begging for bread, while i toast my *****
on the beach enjoying summer the waters too cold to swim though..
while in New Orleans they had to jump in regardless..
but all my worry is, if my sister can pass her BAR test..
So next time i wanna vent under my AC vent...
i stop and think, **** i dont even have to pay rent..
I dont gotta work doubleshifts and im never hungry..
plus a got a couple people who really love me..
So..
Next time that i wanna complain..
Ill scale my struggle on a real measure of pain.
-afj
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 5:32 AM UTC
I recall those cosmic brownies from my childhood
and the little kool-aid drinks we picked out from the 7-11
with coins from the belly of our couch cushions.
Watching Judge Judy in the afternoons
on grandma's squishy sofa
thinking that 'law' and 'court'
were words you used when your room-mate
didn't pay her rent on time
or when your boyfriend used your credit card
to take out the ***** from down the street.
So we plucked the feet off the daddy-long-legs
and lit ants on fire
when the swimming pool was closed.
Names like
Charles Manson
Ted Bundy
never sparked fear in our bodies
never bred anger or sadness in our hearts.
So we crawled through our tunnels past youth and adolescence
awoke to a world where
men and women
who slaughtered dozens of innocents like cattle
are being served breakfast by the men and women we trust
to keep us safe at night
while we sleep in our soft beds
more vulnerable
than the devils who leave us in fear.
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 6:51 PM UTC
She said we were forever.
I should have been more clever
Wishing she was with my friend
I should have seen the end
Anger fills me, turns into rage
But what I found upon the next page,
Was one who truly cares
We’ve become a great pair
I made the wrong choice at first
Followed a ***** had a misplaced thirst
But what it led to
Was you.
Jul 17, 2021
Jul 17, 2021 at 10:45 PM UTC
i write from a dark crotch
of the unthinkable
and hot breath
to crucify and feed
with my ****
red ink **** pen
inside you
i'm a bathing delirium
chanting
a bloodletting poem
in sonorous
vampire hieroglyphics
that boils
and exquisite liqueur
oiled and drunk with her moans
she
a dropped fruit panting
Barbie tied up
waiting for a tower of *****
heals over head
a stretched flower
every hole an open mouth
just asking for it
a **** can be sad music
like a shower cap with a dead head
especially in the web of a dream
that leaves your whole body
a hissing ***********
*****
she she
poodled up
improbable modernist
on the verge
of awareness
with a dim eye
drooling for
scapula's torment
a ghastly sacrifice
beast up her gut
a dire mental construct
a curse of pain
for pleasure
reborn of shadows
yet a banana shimmer's
like a smoldering door ***
her name
seen
in the mists of Venus
like a Siren of sparkles
a sprawling tangle
and bright eyes blue
in a molten hold
broken and healed
churning blood red moons
convulsing a *** blizzard
bed of rain
Jul 14, 2020
Jul 14, 2020 at 9:58 AM UTC
Aksis (Greek: ἁψίς; majority apsides, Greek: Enhancements, Improvements) is the highest point in the course [orbit] of one thing. 10000.001 1000 hours on the moon and the moon [2] ... 34C Horse and P4 / 4 (see Cicero / PH3 screen) 4P * 1000-1010 = 3-2 George. ... (July 73) Jul 42 in Italy, Poland, Picture of Hiroshima P2 Columbus, Georgia, Europe, Columbia 100 MTN Toonberg [People] About 1683 - P ***** 4/4, Chen Xin Shibiru. Cicero / P / [2] ... 1000 to 10,000,000. The King's King after many high speeds of 3-4p of Master Cranial Winter of Hiroshima HD HD-DA ... Mother's Scandic Faced Keira is a poor and unhealthy injury.) I've got a headline. Taurus is in charge of the drivers, IPA women's wives (BBC Taurus IPA), IPA women - Pastor BBC Taurus - after suffering, woman and bishops hit on the easiest arrow for the arch. Hunter, the commander of the powerful is new. Papa Andrew you Howl Yellow Chicken Mm Agbarus Bosma Test for Sinestro 1 / 3-1000. Smart 4P George Elvira, December II - Pilot 2 ... 73 [2] 3 Original Script file. 3 42-38000 Preparing People in Georgia, Georgia Paz Two Years - Shell HTS Hiroshima, Paul, George P. 2. 1683 ... English, French, Colombo, Nintendo, Canuck Black Rory, agree with national laws . .. [2], Greece, Italy, United States in sports groups ... demand for space [4] [5] [6] ATL one but we do not read, "I have heard the head twice" but this is the idea, good. When a leader dies ... buried in the Paris Labyrinth, Tess and Brie and the Kronogods Ready | A pleasant place of residence held August 1570 [11: 5] Clement Bach Bali - the world's largest Cicero sea. More than two years Hydroponics / L-2 George ovulation stream.d special at the end of four years, [4] Google has more pressure 5. [7] Using the backpacks of Dr. Clarke's four Gadgets and Sara. "The German Parliament says the House says 4/357 100 Evolve Mobile 4 R / 3 1000 MPS: 3-10000 years ago to Mali P4 2.3 2.1 (4) Investing 100 years ago", George Thomas (he less than 3).||
Oct 25, 2018
Oct 25, 2018 at 6:30 PM UTC
sitting in heavy traffic one day, 4-way stop
radio on, listening to the DJ describe
the excitement of broadcasting live
from a south side strip club
between songs
giggly ****** screech in high pitched
dog whistle voices
trying to entice me
into meeting wild red heads
georgous brunettes, ***** blondes
yellow, then red, then slowly traffic
moves on
continuing the maze
blockades block, jackhammers
tear up half the street, change lanes
the heat of asphalt, a constant barrage
of noise
straining, amplifying
I turn a ***** off in mid-squeal
looking around I realize
I had arrived
this was the world of grown-ups
I so desperately longed for in my youth?
no bat mizvah, no tribal rite of passage
but if I'm lucky
I'll make that green light
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 7:57 PM UTC
There’s something about hotel rooms
that just taste better
Their silent is more silent
You’re stacked and lined-up
and you still feel so out of the way
Have you ever made love in a hotel room?
Soundless, pricey mini-bars as foreplay
First light through those gauzy drapes
that don’t belong to you
******* on those crisp white sheets
that don’t belong to you
Room service forever waiting
on the tip of your fingers
through those granite goes dark Teledex phones
And the water-flow is just the thing
I guess they add something to the water
or it’s the way they boil it
there’s something unusual about it
that perfectly matches our skin
And when the ***** leaves
there's just no guilt
You won’t ever call her again
but there’s just no guilt
You know you were great
she’s downright pleased
and you feel on top of the world
May 5, 2012
May 5, 2012 at 4:52 PM UTC
I crave peace
security....
and i get annoyed....
i feel not understood
...my mind is so ******* overwhelmed
...but projects not ****
its so mother *******
afraid of who knows ******* what
...i sit here like a ******* doll
with my Mom yelling in my ear
as insecurity
those annoying *** voices...
continue to say your nothing
your nothing because your not good enough
...for this person
he wont think your hot
your not good enough
....i think you should be more like this ****** up person
...all it does is degrade me
...tell me im nothing
.....tell me im something according to society
...then ******* deceit me
its like what am i...
who am i
what have i become
....what do i truly value
...who the **** am i
...im a wreck
a ******* train crash
dead...
and its like
i crave identity and security so much
im willing to find it in a matter of seconds
...its like i have no sense of patience in that field
its like ive been sad
...crying internally
totally hiding it
....insecure with myself
angry
...but in denial
completely in denial
about my entire existence
its like i dont want to admit to the person that i am
...my mind craves more
it doesnt crave real
its a ******* ***** i tell a ******* bith
a real pai in the ***
im tired of giving a **** about what others think about me
im tired of giving a **** about anything
im tired of being so annoyed and in denial about myself
its like i want to ******* scream
its like im trapped
trapped
and i feel obligated to stay trapped
..because im me
and because society and ppl
and like im not one to like to make others feel bad
....but like im so tired
its a ******* pain
making each and every day a task
...to mask the real me
and try and build this facade
impress evry ******* person i meet
...like its such a ******* task
every ******* day
for the past years
..its fustrating
i look at miley and demi and avril
then i look at me....
and i know that security and complete you...is possible
but its like...
who wants to sit sad
be ******* sad for a day, for weeks, for months
even years
like...
not me
im so tired and sick
and im done tryig to be what everyone else wants
....im done scrolling down my feed
and only seeing wrong
seeing wrong in me
and opportunities to change me
im tired of the negativity
and i refuse to live a day i jealousy, or in envy of some white, blonde *****
...i refuse
i refuse
...but also i fear
meaning i have no faith
my faith is in my mind
its coming out through my mouth
but its not their
its non existant
it wants to be their so ******* badly
but its not
its like i want to command my heart to believe
...but thats not possible
i cant command myself to die can i....
i mean.....
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 7:30 PM UTC