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"bombard" poems
I join the game, I act so lame but, really I'm a troll and the tides take a toll I spout up dank memes until the non-memers scream and when pepe comes about, take the meme-haters out "stop, stop, noob!" they say while eating Doritos and singing away your 360 no scope can't **** me, cause honestly, your 'friend' is my secret trustee so bombard all you want fill me with hate the memers will meme on until it gets... late.          goodnight.
0
Aug 19, 2016
Aug 19, 2016 at 11:16 PM UTC
Dank Memes
Prolog: Foreplay opens with an aphrodisiac dubbed the mind caressing private chambers with passion, over time words stimulating nerve-endings for the ideal tease like the skin dripping of honey from the nectar of bees exploiting the fragrances of scented oils and balms or maybe vib’ing lyrics inducing a seductive calm compelling forces bombard the intellectual’s sanity as the proximity of the blackhole distorts humanity Love’s Play: Costars entwine heated bodies for love’s embrace as moments become endless as vectors of subspace sporadic movements take the form of blissful spasms while the players combine to mold a single plasm ringing chimes fulfill the awareness with sensations too diverse to classify for logical deliberations yet finally, the mountaintop of cliffs can be reached where there is no retreat and no return from its breach Epilog: Aftermath closes basking from the physical exertion as two kindred spirits epitomize timeless insertion gazing deeply into the abyss of the partner’s soul only to find comfort and compassion ruling the role can this be the earthly heaven that one truly beholds written in the historic words as the heavens foretold feelings ignite once again burning deeply within opening yet another intriguing act, one must attend.
0
Feb 9, 2017
Feb 9, 2017 at 10:06 AM UTC
Love’s Play
They will bombard you with love and tell you what you want to hear. They will tell you that they are your soulmate and that you have nothing to fear. They will do or say anything to get what they desire. They become quite adept at being a smooth liar. Keep in mind that if it sounds too good to be true, Listen to your gut instinct – it’s trying to protect you. They will torture you with triangulation and convince you that you are the crazy one. Then they will devalue and discard you when they have used you up and they are done. They count on the fact that you will keep giving them the benefit of the doubt. They are actually reeling you in but you are so confused you haven’t quite figured it out. They are pure evil - do not fall for their lies. Sooner or later their mask will slip and you will see through their disguise. They will make you miserable – you will tell yourself this is not how you behave when you love someone, But you will never make them see it that way because to them it’s just a way of having fun. You will start to realize when their true self begins to show, But keep your guard up because you never know how far they will go. They call it emotional **** and that is exactly how you will feel. You will soon understand the love you thought you had wasn’t ever real. Then they will move on to the next victim and leave you alone. Don’t beat yourself up – just hope they stay gone. They have no conscience, no remorse and you are just a pawn in their sick little game. Once you have been the target of a psychopath, you will never be the same. A psychopath’s bond is a hard thing to break, But you have to be strong for your own sake. Everyone has come into contact with a psychopath at some point in their life. It could easily have been your mother, your father, your husband or your wife. We have all probably been victims of a psychopath but some of us just never knew, Until you start reading the information about them then you will know it’s true. Being fooled and falling in love with a psychopath is very easy for me to see. I know firsthand the horror of it all because, yes, it happened to me. V. Cheek 9/04/2014
0
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 6:50 AM UTC
**The Game of a Psychopath**
They will bombard you with love and tell you what you want to hear. They will tell you that they are your soulmate and that you have nothing to fear. They will do or say anything to get what they desire. They become quite adept at being a smooth liar. Keep in mind that if it sounds too good to be true, Listen to your gut instinct – it’s trying to protect you. They will torture you with triangulation and convince you that you are the crazy one. Then they will devalue and discard you when they have used you up and they are done. They count on the fact that you will keep giving them the benefit of the doubt. They are actually reeling you in but you are so confused you haven’t quite figured it out. They are pure evil - do not fall for their lies. Sooner or later their mask will slip and you will see through their disguise. They will make you miserable – you will tell yourself this is not how you behave when you love someone, But you will never make them see it that way because to them it’s just a way of having fun. You will start to realize when their true self begins to show, But keep your guard up because you never know how far they will go. They call it emotional **** and that is exactly how you will feel. You will soon understand the love you thought you had wasn’t ever real. Then they will move on to the next victim and leave you alone. Don’t beat yourself up – just hope they stay gone. They have no conscience, no remorse and you are just a pawn in their sick little game. Once you have been the target of a psychopath, you will never be the same. A psychopath’s bond is a hard thing to break, But you have to be strong for your own sake. Everyone has come into contact with a psychopath at some point in their life. It could easily have been your mother, your father, your husband or your wife. We have all probably been victims of a psychopath but some of us just never knew, Until you start reading the information about them then you will know it’s true. Being fooled and falling in love with a psychopath is very easy for me to see. I know firsthand the horror of it all because, yes, it happened to me. V. Cheek 9/04/2014
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32
Memories bombard my eyes All the wrongs caused in past times Failures on parade Wrong choices made Too late (Can't change them) Why do I stop and reminisce When all these things Leave me feeling like this? What has this life become? When you're all alone Crying in a parking lot... Shots left me with a wounded heart Just like a broken vase Put together again It's not the same Thoughts of death plague my mind Runs through my head too much of the time Try to fix it with a rhyme, a line Tried praying for a sign All I see is empty skies And this is why I'd like to know What has this life become? When you're all alone Crying in a parking lot... Silhouettes dancing through these streets Dark shadow stalking me The man in the mirror That I see Is not the best version of me I know it Not trying to hide it I'm an open book Read each line And you'll get a small glimpse into my life Through silver screens You'll see all these feelings eating at me Tell me What has this life become? When you're all alone Crying in a parking lot... ©2018 Written By Benji James
0
Sep 23, 2018
Sep 23, 2018 at 7:03 AM UTC
Crying (Parking Lot)
I feel the walls of my mentality breaking down. The defense mechanism has failed. My weakness has been found. Bombs bombard my frontal lobes. How much time do I have left? That's a question nobody knows. But the army of stress wages through. Setting fire and killing cells, torturing them as the army continues to move. My head throbs with pain, my legs join my arms in what feels like an earthquake; Heart pounds with tremendous force, my body is on a crash course. The room becomes an amusement park ride. While different moods pass me by. Day after day the symptoms increase. Today may be the day when I accept defeat. Socializing has become a thing of the past, all I have is panic attacks. Happiness has finally been lost. Without a map, and at what cost? Control center has been compromised. Here I am, I have met my demise.
0
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 2:26 PM UTC
Breakdown
I’ve never quite lived up to the expectations that bombard every millennial these days, the ones knocking and gnawing at my skin until they find their way in and search through each crevice in my brain until they find the right residence to lay their bed and plant the insecurities that end up destroying my self-confidence and gifting me with the inability to succeed until I have to scrape every piece of residue from the inside-out just to get myself to a place where I can breathe again. Yeah, I don’t let those in anymore. I’ve always been a little bit of a question mark, a strange child who danced to my own beat, even when I tried to walk in time with those surrounding, and there is a small piece of me that - when a new life event of someone my age visits my newsfeed - wants the same, tired story for my own life... and then I remember I wasn’t made for this. Sometimes I’m not sure what I was made for anymore, and I just keep waiting and waiting until it’s my time to be on my own, or catch my heart on fire, or simply take a step forward, and, yet, it never happens. There are things I know about myself that I will never explain, and I shouldn’t have to. I have a key-shaped hole in my soul that aches to find its perfect fit, but I’m not allowed to twist it yet, though my fist has been ready for years, and all I can do in the meantime when someone asks me why is answer with one simple phrase that stings each time it passes through my lips: It’s not my time yet.
0
May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 6:06 PM UTC
Tired Phrases
I’ve never quite lived up to the expectations that bombard every millennial these days, the ones knocking and gnawing at my skin until they find their way in and search through each crevice in my brain until they find the right residence to lay their bed and plant the insecurities that end up destroying my self-confidence and gifting me with the inability to succeed until I have to scrape every piece of residue from the inside-out just to get myself to a place where I can breathe again. Yeah, I don’t let those in anymore. I’ve always been a little bit of a question mark, a strange child who danced to my own beat, even when I tried to walk in time with those surrounding, and there is a small piece of me that - when a new life event of someone my age visits my newsfeed - wants the same, tired story for my own life... and then I remember I wasn’t made for this. Sometimes I’m not sure what I was made for anymore, and I just keep waiting and waiting until it’s my time to be on my own, or catch my heart on fire, or simply take a step forward, and, yet, it never happens. There are things I know about myself that I will never explain, and I shouldn’t have to. I have a key-shaped hole in my soul that aches to find its perfect fit, but I’m not allowed to twist it yet, though my fist has been ready for years, and all I can do in the meantime when someone asks me why is answer with one simple phrase that stings each time it passes through my lips: It’s not my time yet.
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43
Three-legged spider on a ***** tile Eyeball rolls, clean in hand Massive metal door opens, up top a hill Graveyard of ever-ringing cells. What's real creepy to you? Enclose the city, lock us out ..for good Condemned as doomed, living dead Big guns survive in metallic domes See the crass ******** shoot us down! Wanna talk about what's creepy, huh? Plunderers now lay down new laws Can't fight the sick, red sway Random acts of violence bay Armoured eyes see all from lofty towers. Creepy autocrats hide the truth, right? No soaring when blood runs rivers Tripping over rotting corpses Decaying stench of hope dying Help will come, we must believe! Do you believe lies to your face? Infrastructure's down, no services Power's out, no more flushing Car carcasses aflame on every corner, yet How come big brother's eyes still move? Are the gullible ones really stupid and feeble? Sun shines, but nothing grows Rain seeps red away into sewers Crops of twisted metal, hoards of guns Skeletal trees adorn our landscape. Why hold askance your glance skyward? The gates will open to let us in Surely, they witness our hardship! There must exist a life beyond this strife Uproar, bombard, gas, artillery....then no more.... Can you ever cease to have temerity? In face of adversity, calamity and injustice We should NEVER cease to be exasperated! Hope must prevail; faith must live; Thoughts expressed; love and respect must survive. Can you afford your spirit just to let go....? Think about it. Creepy autocrats eternally rank ... Chronically..........Insidious Repressively........Deleterious Egotistically.........Inadequate Eruptively............Odious Pretentiously.......Tedious Yucky...................Scum! S T, 31 May 2013
0
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 10:30 AM UTC
Creepy Autocrat
Three-legged spider on a ***** tile Eyeball rolls, clean in hand Massive metal door opens, up top a hill Graveyard of ever-ringing cells. What's real creepy to you? Enclose the city, lock us out ..for good Condemned as doomed, living dead Big guns survive in metallic domes See the crass ******** shoot us down! Wanna talk about what's creepy, huh? Plunderers now lay down new laws Can't fight the sick, red sway Random acts of violence bay Armoured eyes see all from lofty towers. Creepy autocrats hide the truth, right? No soaring when blood runs rivers Tripping over rotting corpses Decaying stench of hope dying Help will come, we must believe! Do you believe lies to your face? Infrastructure's down, no services Power's out, no more flushing Car carcasses aflame on every corner, yet How come big brother's eyes still move? Are the gullible ones really stupid and feeble? Sun shines, but nothing grows Rain seeps red away into sewers Crops of twisted metal, hoards of guns Skeletal trees adorn our landscape. Why hold askance your glance skyward? The gates will open to let us in Surely, they witness our hardship! There must exist a life beyond this strife Uproar, bombard, gas, artillery....then no more.... Can you ever cease to have temerity? In face of adversity, calamity and injustice We should NEVER cease to be exasperated! Hope must prevail; faith must live; Thoughts expressed; love and respect must survive. Can you afford your spirit just to let go....? Think about it. Creepy autocrats eternally rank ... Chronically..........Insidious Repressively........Deleterious Egotistically.........Inadequate Eruptively............Odious Pretentiously.......Tedious Yucky...................Scum! S T, 31 May 2013
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48
She owns a castle Feeble as glass crumbling walls to repel the past. As the roots creeps higher onto the castle walls Years passed and no one danced the waltz Medieval old music keeps playing She was abandoned, lost and dying. she was an unsaved princess left alone all her sadness never known *a dainty flower meant to wither* She stared afar Eyes locked on a nearby tower yet she seemed distant Vowed never to speak of love again she was silent all these years... *she was empty, alone, forgotten Just like her castle* She sits atop the velvet chair Stood up at the veranda on the cliff Pain was all hers to keep what could've happen if she'd just leap She owns a magnificent ocean of glistening tears You'll hear her screams blend with the roaring waves On sleepless nights she wanders The great garden The ambiance of melachonly The field of haze seems to widen A ruler to all the shadows casted A subject to her desires neglected The doors are shut Countless barricades will bombard you Before you could walk up to the bridge So brace yourself and your white horse She wont let you get to her Silly..silly..kinglet She waited, Oh how many years has it been. Kneel infront Of the lonely queen.
0
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 3:30 AM UTC
The Lonely Queen
Burn incense to block out the smell of death and self hate
 that lingers in your room
, as you sit up
 at 3am 
thinking too much
, because your mind is
 never at rest. The musky scent and stuffy atmosphere
, will breakdown your thinking pattern
 and your thoughts leaving you mellowed
 and able to sleep
 for a while… Somedays every feeling and all my thoughts bombard my mind like a hurricane
 Bashing against the walls of my skull wanting to be spilled all over the page
. like ink in a fountain pen. Yet there are days I cannot even think
 of words to say
, when you ask me
 what's on my mind or if I’m okay.
0
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 6:21 PM UTC
Messy
I'm sorry I don't know if its for me but i fell for it, your love trap captured me. Or is it that I wanted to fall? for you to catch, don't leave me to crawl. I'm sorry I see you in everything the sky that cries, the sun that bids me for the night I'm sorry but baby I want to bombard you with my love to hold your hand to kiss you goodnight. I'm sorry I can't keep this anymore You're my comfort, my escape. My curse, my endeavor *Its a different kind of love but I still do, baby, I don't want you; I need you.* These words I cannot carry baby, listen to me. I just want to tell you I'm sorry but I'm not sorry.
0
Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 7:09 AM UTC
I'm Sorry
Do you remember me? Do you know who I am? You don't remember these soft drown eyes Staring into the vacant depths Of your glazed over eyes Donut wholes on your sunk in face Mother, I'm that 13 month old baby You abandoned and never looked back on I'm the nuisance in the back of your head Wishing you would wake up and feed me Change my soiled diapers The way you should change your habits Mother, pleas I'm begging I'm crying tears of snowflake shadows I need you yet you're not there You're two inches from my face Crashing into couch cushions Like suicide bombers Needle stil stuck in your arm Filling your veins with a substance That prevented you from loving me Hello...mother Do you remember me? Do you know who I am now? I wanted you to love me Tell me bedtime stories Keep the nightlight on Long enough for me to fall asleep Unafraid of what the shadows hold Tuck me in and kiss me goodnight Like the moon itself Every night to the rest of the world I want to be your world Drenched in your loving moonlight But no, the drugs you overdosed on Prevented you from doing just that And you still haven't learned your lesson You called me several times Telling me you love me That you're sorry for leaving But within the 5 minutes It took you to choke your tongue To say even one of those words You sail away on that kite Crash immediately into my heart Causing missile words to bombard my walls Calling me worthless, pathetic, and a waste Hello...mother Please remember me! Please remember who I am! I'm the baby you refused to hold at birth I'm the last child of four You wish you would have aborted 1 month prior to my concieving Hello...mother The late night hours of needles and pills Powdery white lines cut like a chef Must have erased me from your life And if I could bleed every drop of your blood out I'd carve canyons in my wrist Let loose the dams Drown in the wake I don't want to be your son I want to be the child of four you never had Hello... Forgive me for this I know you don't remember me I know you don't know who I am But I hate you I can only thank you for making me a poet Giving me this curse Because I'm no longer your puppet Or your voodoo doll With 12 needles in his chest I'm the kid you will never know So this greeting shall be as strangers You never cared to know me So this farewell shall be as strangers Goodbye... ...Mother
0
Jul 8, 2013
Jul 8, 2013 at 9:26 PM UTC
Hello...Mother
Do you remember me? Do you know who I am? You don't remember these soft drown eyes Staring into the vacant depths Of your glazed over eyes Donut wholes on your sunk in face Mother, I'm that 13 month old baby You abandoned and never looked back on I'm the nuisance in the back of your head Wishing you would wake up and feed me Change my soiled diapers The way you should change your habits Mother, pleas I'm begging I'm crying tears of snowflake shadows I need you yet you're not there You're two inches from my face Crashing into couch cushions Like suicide bombers Needle stil stuck in your arm Filling your veins with a substance That prevented you from loving me Hello...mother Do you remember me? Do you know who I am now? I wanted you to love me Tell me bedtime stories Keep the nightlight on Long enough for me to fall asleep Unafraid of what the shadows hold Tuck me in and kiss me goodnight Like the moon itself Every night to the rest of the world I want to be your world Drenched in your loving moonlight But no, the drugs you overdosed on Prevented you from doing just that And you still haven't learned your lesson You called me several times Telling me you love me That you're sorry for leaving But within the 5 minutes It took you to choke your tongue To say even one of those words You sail away on that kite Crash immediately into my heart Causing missile words to bombard my walls Calling me worthless, pathetic, and a waste Hello...mother Please remember me! Please remember who I am! I'm the baby you refused to hold at birth I'm the last child of four You wish you would have aborted 1 month prior to my concieving Hello...mother The late night hours of needles and pills Powdery white lines cut like a chef Must have erased me from your life And if I could bleed every drop of your blood out I'd carve canyons in my wrist Let loose the dams Drown in the wake I don't want to be your son I want to be the child of four you never had Hello... Forgive me for this I know you don't remember me I know you don't know who I am But I hate you I can only thank you for making me a poet Giving me this curse Because I'm no longer your puppet Or your voodoo doll With 12 needles in his chest I'm the kid you will never know So this greeting shall be as strangers You never cared to know me So this farewell shall be as strangers Goodbye... ...Mother
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80
I, After Leaving, Have been in The most pain, The most strain. It’s a good thing I love His Name. After leaving I feel lost. To my life it’s a huge cost. I find that I have been changed That my whole life was rearranged. After leaving my mind tries its best to cope. It’s almost as if I’ve let go of a rope And without it I feel so alone. So I search for a new home. After leaving I look for new friends. So that a new chapter I can begin. But in them I search for what is “wrong.” For it’s the warmth of welcome my mind longs. After leaving I see how I’ve been separated From my sisters whom I am indebted. I see how I’ve been embedded. I see where I was headed. After leaving I see I was on the path to believe That if I was to stay in the church I must see them as the only place to search. That I must only be with the “brothers” it seems, That I have to wait ‘till I graduate to search for love. You must not think you can throw out our God’s dreams For it’s listening to Him that we find true peace from above. Our wonderful God wants us to be in love with Him, Not necessarily to fall in love with his bride. Yes we should trust and listen to them, But not if we feel Him from aside, Whispering in our small ears Something different, Something clear. He told me to leave. He knew it would be hard. He knew I would not go at first, But our Lord, to me, did not bombard. He did not give up until I was relieved. It’s all just a balance that is off. I feel sorry for them. I wish that this could come to an end . . .. … But Should I feel sorry For them? Does It even make sense To have these feelings? For without them I was lost. Without them I was not soft. They helped me become Like the tree. . .. ... It’s Like Water from A tap, dripping On my head Always . .. .. ... Only To mess With my mind. It drips slowly, It isn’t kind. For it wants me to go on my own, Instead of keeping God on the phone. The drops fall on my head one by one, Little by little my mind comes undone Perhaps it will never stop dripping, Perhaps it will not stop ripping Perhaps it won't stop. . .. .. ... When? Will it stop? Please stop. Please. …................................................................................................... …........................................................................................................................... …...................................................................................................
0
May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 1:40 PM UTC
After Leaving
I, After Leaving, Have been in The most pain, The most strain. It’s a good thing I love His Name. After leaving I feel lost. To my life it’s a huge cost. I find that I have been changed That my whole life was rearranged. After leaving my mind tries its best to cope. It’s almost as if I’ve let go of a rope And without it I feel so alone. So I search for a new home. After leaving I look for new friends. So that a new chapter I can begin. But in them I search for what is “wrong.” For it’s the warmth of welcome my mind longs. After leaving I see how I’ve been separated From my sisters whom I am indebted. I see how I’ve been embedded. I see where I was headed. After leaving I see I was on the path to believe That if I was to stay in the church I must see them as the only place to search. That I must only be with the “brothers” it seems, That I have to wait ‘till I graduate to search for love. You must not think you can throw out our God’s dreams For it’s listening to Him that we find true peace from above. Our wonderful God wants us to be in love with Him, Not necessarily to fall in love with his bride. Yes we should trust and listen to them, But not if we feel Him from aside, Whispering in our small ears Something different, Something clear. He told me to leave. He knew it would be hard. He knew I would not go at first, But our Lord, to me, did not bombard. He did not give up until I was relieved. It’s all just a balance that is off. I feel sorry for them. I wish that this could come to an end . . .. … But Should I feel sorry For them? Does It even make sense To have these feelings? For without them I was lost. Without them I was not soft. They helped me become Like the tree. . .. ... It’s Like Water from A tap, dripping On my head Always . .. .. ... Only To mess With my mind. It drips slowly, It isn’t kind. For it wants me to go on my own, Instead of keeping God on the phone. The drops fall on my head one by one, Little by little my mind comes undone Perhaps it will never stop dripping, Perhaps it will not stop ripping Perhaps it won't stop. . .. .. ... When? Will it stop? Please stop. Please. …................................................................................................... …........................................................................................................................... …...................................................................................................
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99
there are things i have promised you, things i don't ever want to put you through. i'm sorry i broke those promises somehow, i knew we weren't for each other anyhow. i just want you to be happy, i know we're both tired of being shady. things between us are already sketchy, every day, holding on seems very heavy. letting go of you was hard yet i don't want toxicity to bombard; i want the best for you and me so please, let's just set each other free.
0
Mar 30, 2021
Mar 30, 2021 at 5:52 AM UTC
i just want you to be happy
I didn't get to tell you that I loved you before you died. I stood right next to you, and I didn't say it. By the deepest sleep, we were seperated. You were just too far away. You had a gorgeous mind. I'd bombard you with questions all the time. "How far does space go on for?' You'd say it's endless. "How many stars are there?" You'd say they're infinite. You also told me nothing lasts forever. I still think you're wrong about that one. I go back to that day every year and wish I had said something. How thankful I was for everything you taught me. Scientists agree with you by the way. They say space is endless. That stars number infinite. If this holds true, then you were wrong about forever. Totally wrong. If this holds true, then if I look far enough into space odds are certain I will find a world just like ours. And there you are alive and well And I'm with you And I won't stop with my questions Over and over Across the universe forever. If this holds true, then I can tell you this knowing you are never too far away.
0
Apr 18, 2018
Apr 18, 2018 at 1:51 AM UTC
My Chy
' "In the world of mortals there's no greater perfection than music." ~ Impeccable Space Poetess ' Divine music beats bombard my being as non-rippened ripples The surface of my ear drums aches without perfectly harmonious sounds complementing Roses blossom in a quiet garden, some lavish quietudes here, where I've got enough peace and not the right space for a siren's songs enthralling enchantment Searching at the random pace for the most peculiar music ~ thunders in my thoughts! Those undiscovered waves appear as lustrous song lenghts, as limbs of a sound corpus slumbering in the solace of silence and rhythm Deep bits bite my emptiness and this wanton yearning   forces me to reflect upon this uncultivated wilderness and what's there to miss at all means ' ***lovable etudes classical chello drifts bansuri flutes*** '
0
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 9:14 AM UTC
In the World of Mortals there's No Greater Perfection than Music
I try hide from the nightmares I try hide from the pain Sorrow engulfs me As I try to stay sane The memories bombard me As I fight to keep them away I use the good ones to fight the bad ones Like the first time we met and he said 'I'll have this dance, if I may' The first time he said 'I love you' The first time we fought and I told him to leave But he stayed The last time he said 'I love you' The last time he held me close And said 'Everything will be fine. I'll be okay.' The tears run down my cheeks Because when I'm awake I feel the pain and grief And when I'm asleep I the nightmares haunt me Everything was supposed to be fine He was supposed to be okay
0
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 4:19 AM UTC
I'll Be Okay
I love you to pieces And that's where I've found myself In pieces Let's make peace of this I wish you had become the serendipity I was hoping for but that's the thing You can't look for serendipity It's in the definition But you defined me You'll find me under the willow tree where we met Wallowing in the self hatred and alcohol But I know you won't come looking for me You'll be reminding me that you always closed your eyes because you couldn't stand staring back at me I wasn't the pretty you were hoping for Just a place to park your manhood for a few nights During the warfare of words No matter what slander you bombard me with All I'll ever have to say about you Is that "I loved him"
0
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 5:08 PM UTC
pieces
Leah Rost The heat of those moments spent in passion reveal my true emotion as the wispy little hairs of your skin raise to my touch; flushed lips part before gently meeting mine and radiating heat that flows through my body and thaws the cold hands you always complain about, every second new sensations bombard the grey matter in my head confusing and pleasing the neurons that fire in pace with my breath until I’ve closed my eyes and let myself drift from under your touch because your eyes are blue and I open mine wishing to see his coffee brown irises searching my body for every ounce of emotion I wouldn’t dare speak out loud and I’m begging to stop thinking of him when I’m with you but my memory refuses to block out the nights I spent warm under his thick, strong arms and domineering hands.
0
Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 12:30 AM UTC
One, 148 word long sentence
How unprepared I was when midnight approached me by Emission of vivid green neon lights From the futuristic skyscrapers to my unworldly eyes But more imposing A suspended meteor in the sky Upon the decrepit city which never stood My arrival at Midnight City, my peculiar neighborhood Thumping tracks and frantic sirens Bombard tremendous fear in my senses Amid the resonating pantomime that cracks throughout my head Merciless cyborgs arrive from nowhere And threaten mankind with unthinkable weapons Their bleak empty eyes bring dogmatic order As my escalated fears enslave me well Inside the mechanical serpent that darts With endless slick demented rails On such a twisted mind, it begins to run Confused and addled, I have no control of this matter Only worries dwell my mind The arrival of this mysterious force is my greatest baffle Does this herald the degeneration of Gaia? What is this complex machinery that enslaves all men? Where does this designate human posterity and fate? What was done for an act of retribution? Does this unprecedented apocalypse null all human solutions? In this dark tunnel, on a decrepit couch The dauntless train begins to screech with endless laughter As it tears tempestuously faster and faster Until all unearthly fluorescent lights blend together Thumping tracks and frantic sirens Eighty-six notches louder Alternating flashes of red and green Fourteen seconds prior A silhouette of a white demon projects from afar As it begins to approach us, its image ever becomes so bizarre Add a second of suspended silence of jest Before we scream and ensue The fatal crash
0
Sep 27, 2015
Sep 27, 2015 at 1:22 AM UTC
My Arrival at Midnight City
How unprepared I was when midnight approached me by Emission of vivid green neon lights From the futuristic skyscrapers to my unworldly eyes But more imposing A suspended meteor in the sky Upon the decrepit city which never stood My arrival at Midnight City, my peculiar neighborhood Thumping tracks and frantic sirens Bombard tremendous fear in my senses Amid the resonating pantomime that cracks throughout my head Merciless cyborgs arrive from nowhere And threaten mankind with unthinkable weapons Their bleak empty eyes bring dogmatic order As my escalated fears enslave me well Inside the mechanical serpent that darts With endless slick demented rails On such a twisted mind, it begins to run Confused and addled, I have no control of this matter Only worries dwell my mind The arrival of this mysterious force is my greatest baffle Does this herald the degeneration of Gaia? What is this complex machinery that enslaves all men? Where does this designate human posterity and fate? What was done for an act of retribution? Does this unprecedented apocalypse null all human solutions? In this dark tunnel, on a decrepit couch The dauntless train begins to screech with endless laughter As it tears tempestuously faster and faster Until all unearthly fluorescent lights blend together Thumping tracks and frantic sirens Eighty-six notches louder Alternating flashes of red and green Fourteen seconds prior A silhouette of a white demon projects from afar As it begins to approach us, its image ever becomes so bizarre Add a second of suspended silence of jest Before we scream and ensue The fatal crash
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In the cloak of the night night....so barbarous and still still many eyes presume to lurk lurk for the tumultuous squeal. Such a cry of vulnerability vulnerability of lonely weakness weakness....lures unjust evil evil within a woeful bleakness. Deep from the African bush bush that conceals a enemy enemy bearing a crucial task task to invade the vicinity. The smell of blood entices entices the senses of hunters hunters after a marred victim victim freed by rams and bunters. From one side to another another enemy attacks hard hard to escape such an attack attack of a overwhelming bombard. Action packed view from afar afar from finely tuned sight sight of a harsh...epic struggle struggle of prey in a losing fight. Time passes and the fight proceeds proceeds to take upon a big turn turn of some unexpected events events the enemy has yet to learn learn of the victim's inner strength strength to overcome the worst worst case scenario in the midst midst of ****** wounds at burst. As the distant view closes in in what shows as such a mess mess which contains a lioness lioness in a battle of distress. Her attackers are now revealed revealed to be a clan of hyena's hyena's that are hunger-crazed crazed in Serengetti's hyped arena. They nip and pick at her her will only grows stronger stronger than she's ever witnessed witnessed her stamina bears longer longer than her many foes foes she begin to bring down down one by one they fall fall to her paws upon the ground. She has awakened her power power to ignore her injuries injuries now are within the clan clan of her relentless enemies. More and more fall to her might might the hyena's perish together together they couldn't destroy her her determination ignites as better better than any has ever seen seen the remaining hyena's run off off, afraid, disappearing in the night. Night soon turns to scorching day day as she walks proud, but weak weak among her lonesome to die die within a bush she longs to seek seek to lay in her comforting spot spot to remedy her depleted life life of a soul of entangled obstacles obstacles of riddled....daily strife. Now in peace she ascends up up into her seraphic; feline humble humble among her powerful kind kind...she is...queen of the jungle. ©Michael P. Smith
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Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 8:07 PM UTC
Queen Of The Jungle (Loop)
In the cloak of the night night....so barbarous and still still many eyes presume to lurk lurk for the tumultuous squeal. Such a cry of vulnerability vulnerability of lonely weakness weakness....lures unjust evil evil within a woeful bleakness. Deep from the African bush bush that conceals a enemy enemy bearing a crucial task task to invade the vicinity. The smell of blood entices entices the senses of hunters hunters after a marred victim victim freed by rams and bunters. From one side to another another enemy attacks hard hard to escape such an attack attack of a overwhelming bombard. Action packed view from afar afar from finely tuned sight sight of a harsh...epic struggle struggle of prey in a losing fight. Time passes and the fight proceeds proceeds to take upon a big turn turn of some unexpected events events the enemy has yet to learn learn of the victim's inner strength strength to overcome the worst worst case scenario in the midst midst of ****** wounds at burst. As the distant view closes in in what shows as such a mess mess which contains a lioness lioness in a battle of distress. Her attackers are now revealed revealed to be a clan of hyena's hyena's that are hunger-crazed crazed in Serengetti's hyped arena. They nip and pick at her her will only grows stronger stronger than she's ever witnessed witnessed her stamina bears longer longer than her many foes foes she begin to bring down down one by one they fall fall to her paws upon the ground. She has awakened her power power to ignore her injuries injuries now are within the clan clan of her relentless enemies. More and more fall to her might might the hyena's perish together together they couldn't destroy her her determination ignites as better better than any has ever seen seen the remaining hyena's run off off, afraid, disappearing in the night. Night soon turns to scorching day day as she walks proud, but weak weak among her lonesome to die die within a bush she longs to seek seek to lay in her comforting spot spot to remedy her depleted life life of a soul of entangled obstacles obstacles of riddled....daily strife. Now in peace she ascends up up into her seraphic; feline humble humble among her powerful kind kind...she is...queen of the jungle. ©Michael P. Smith
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The manicured lawn behaves splendidly all summer never pushing its way through the throngs of flower beds and razor cut edges. How pleasant to look at a tempting golf course in my backyard with no nine holes in it but a coffee club sunk just out of sight of the lawn-mower blades! I guess that's a way away from the lady of the house who cannot always see how men must tamper with manicures and pedicures with brazen coffee cup tricks to catch a bit of practice on handicaps and nine holes! I like those Sundays, especially, when she goes off to bombard the saints with a litany of rosary beads and complaints on why I bring the outdoor golfing into her indoor lawns! I don't want to talk about how poor my putting is though! If I had all the money in the world tucked into my bank account I could go off and buy me an 18 hole ecstasy but that's not possible. So until my numbers show up on the one dollar ticket, I'm happy to build my dream on this one hole, 10 sq yard coffee cup implanted retirement plan. How about you? Author Notes Mini golf course at home. © Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
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Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 12:11 AM UTC
Mini Golf
For a year I had a folder in my computer called "hey dad". I used to take photos of myself when I had been crying really badly. I wanted to see if the sadness would show up in my face. I wanted someone to see it.  I didn't know why I did it. But I think it's because you were never there to see me cry. I think it's because if it reached a breaking point where I wanted to bombard you with how much I'd suffered and struggled and you'd hit back with telling me it wasn't true I'd send you those photos. Their dates extending across a whole year. Me wearing different clothes, different hair, but each one a picture of anguish, I wanted you to be confronted with it inescapably. But then I felt like you wouldn't want that, so I deleted it.
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Sep 16, 2017
Sep 16, 2017 at 6:08 AM UTC
A folder called ‘hey dad’
drinking to much... words elude me or way to many words bombard me... drunk, drunk fuzzy in my head... drunk, drunk time for bed
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Dec 2, 2012
Dec 2, 2012 at 4:30 AM UTC
Drunk...
I want to tell you something but my lips are flicking sparks like a lighter draining fluid and I want to bombard you with all my ragged knots of truth but the words are stuck in traffic giving each other the finger ramming bumper to bumper so they can reach the nearest exit and my nerves are a rickety jalopy almost flipping over at the sight of any speedbump and I'm ripping at the edges like the pages of a Lynch script because I want to tell you something
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Apr 5, 2012
Apr 5, 2012 at 11:47 AM UTC
Sentence Fragment
In times when the heart is lodged somewhere between the brain and the throat I try to force it back down to its chambers, before I choke, or before it strangles my head's precious, antagonized gland. There's only one way to avoid certain tragedy, and that's to look, feel, taste. It's either make mental tracks- run and jump- or drown. It's at these moments when I start playing tricks on my mind. Doing this is easier than you may think. Just stop all thought, for the mind's constant churning chafes the heart. Now, allow your hungry eyes to sidle to and fro- let them wander- dare to wonder about what hasn't, but don't idle even for a minute on what has, or what couldn't. As long as you can avoid relapse, you might even venture into what could, as long as it's new and fresh. As long as it isn't some woeful inquiry growing stale since last night. Then once you find yourself daydreaming, or better yet, DOING, you are halfway there. You've made it uphill and only need to coast down- down the lovely unkempt slope of impulse without crashing. Do something new, preferrably silly- stay away from dangerous- go somewhere new, talk to a stranger, eat something expensive, drink a little, burp loudly. Go wild, steer away from crazy, but cruise through hilarity. Bombard yourself with creative juices, **** your phone, bury your watch, put on your shoes and let yourself laugh. Once you've had some laughs, cue up some Planet Earth -Kung Fu's good too- roll a joint. Smoke it. Grab a pizza, fall asleep with the television on then wake up with a smile on your face. Trust me, it won't come off in the shower, and trust me your heart's ok. You're gonna be just fine.
0
Jul 26, 2012
Jul 26, 2012 at 12:14 PM UTC
How to play tricks on your mind
In times when the heart is lodged somewhere between the brain and the throat I try to force it back down to its chambers, before I choke, or before it strangles my head's precious, antagonized gland. There's only one way to avoid certain tragedy, and that's to look, feel, taste. It's either make mental tracks- run and jump- or drown. It's at these moments when I start playing tricks on my mind. Doing this is easier than you may think. Just stop all thought, for the mind's constant churning chafes the heart. Now, allow your hungry eyes to sidle to and fro- let them wander- dare to wonder about what hasn't, but don't idle even for a minute on what has, or what couldn't. As long as you can avoid relapse, you might even venture into what could, as long as it's new and fresh. As long as it isn't some woeful inquiry growing stale since last night. Then once you find yourself daydreaming, or better yet, DOING, you are halfway there. You've made it uphill and only need to coast down- down the lovely unkempt slope of impulse without crashing. Do something new, preferrably silly- stay away from dangerous- go somewhere new, talk to a stranger, eat something expensive, drink a little, burp loudly. Go wild, steer away from crazy, but cruise through hilarity. Bombard yourself with creative juices, **** your phone, bury your watch, put on your shoes and let yourself laugh. Once you've had some laughs, cue up some Planet Earth -Kung Fu's good too- roll a joint. Smoke it. Grab a pizza, fall asleep with the television on then wake up with a smile on your face. Trust me, it won't come off in the shower, and trust me your heart's ok. You're gonna be just fine.
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