"bossed" poems
It was just a Kiss
It was a fellas hangout
Why I refused? Still don't know
We were all there, ballers and players
Ian was always there, behind
Never fails to appear a Lover
Tonight she is a drunkard
No hold backs; No barrier
"How long Adelaide, how long?"
You can't kiss me in public
I am not your side-chick
No more , No more, NO!
I've done it all, everything
Come dear can we go home
We can talk about this at ....
**** you Adelaide! Sit down
These are your friends, aren't they?
Tell them who i am to you NOW!
She's now the Boss, I get Bossed
For your information, giggles!
I'm pregnant and I'm not terminating
Oh! Baby... Don't baby me...
Gabby should have kept quiet
'Hm-mm Sorry can i excused?"
Shut the **** up Gabriel!
Are you saying you aint in this?
Giggles! NG Gabby has a child ...
"What! SLAP! Jeez! ***
Its enough Ian! SLAP! Silence
Long silence.....
Tears, agony, wailing, pleadings
Guess its more than just a kiss
It always is Stupid...
Nov 8, 2013
Nov 8, 2013 at 7:50 AM UTC
Wrote this eons ago, tonight, once more,
spend some human capital, editing...
Something to think about
as we tuck ourselves in.
the young'uns keep on asking me for tips,
secrets, to this art, magical poetry gig,
as if I had any left unrevealed.
recalled this old'n,
from a vintage poetry year,
as a suggestion,
a stating-starting place,
for young poets:
do not self-chain,
let the words take you
where
they lead, write them up
for the rhyme is waiting,
in the heart chest deep down,
not on the screen.
I read you Goodnight Moon,
Falling asleep beside you.
<•>
People stop rhyming...
When first you overcome your fears,
And dare to put on paper your tears,
Give it up, set yourself free from the shackles,
Of thinking a rhyme is a necessity for a
Rooting tooting writing of a
**** good poem
or a barrel of
crackles
If you feel lost,
Want to share the cost,
Feel not bossed,
By a newbie's need
to believe that if it rhymes
Everyone will like your poem
Just fine
And if you get past this stage,
And advance to the next page,
Do not think that writing down a sentence of
Your mind's first up, innermost thoughts,
Is something that will make you
Less lost, heralded, worthy of a parade,
And be blessed with an A
In your Teacher's pet grade book
My heart broke.
I feel bad.
I feel sad
Cause my man/woman left me
And I hope
Someone kicks his or her ***
That Ain't No Poem Neither...
And if you can't help but complain repeatedly
How life ***** and you're feeling blue
extremely indiscreetly,
Don't make me try on your scribblings
intimately indiscriminately,
Read a million, even wrote a few myself
You think you can write?
Then employ a word outside your comfort zone,
Go it alone,
Write just four sentences that will make
The hopeful reader stand up and you,
Twice as much, and shout
**Hallelujah *******
Work. Poetry is work. Hard work.
Don't fret. But, think on it.
Let it come easy, then let it rest,.
Then spend days editing every comma,
And when you love it so much,
You are chest busting bursting,
Why have you not pressed Send already?
Have the sweetest dreams.
In the morning, when you but awake,
A poem will be aborning in thy mind,
And dare I say it, you will find a new freedom
In free verse.
(I know you will slip in a rhyme or two,
I can't help but do it too)
G' nite!
Jul 9, 2013
Jul 9, 2013 at 10:17 PM UTC
when the sun shines,my mind finds, inspiration as I look upon a nation with untapped potential and a need for influential ****** such as myself.
I do not brag or boast, I am just a sand peckle laying in the coast, but I refuse to be tossed and bossed around by the waves of social expectations and wicked ways of a nation just so one day I can hope to be found.
the tongue is powerful so I watch what I say, I believe in self motivation just incase friends slowly start pushing away, I believe in being morally upright and refusing discrimination upon Gods creations, communications without conflicts having good public relations.
I would not go so far as to call myself a king for motivation,
I would only say that I am a man that brings comfortation,
don't cling to observations,
just sing and make proclamations,
that people aren't actually free. I mean they are but don't act like it, matter of fact they don't like it when you tell them they are stuck to routines.
people are so busy trying to make a living but forget to make a life for themselves.
my mind is an attic, filled with the old and the New coz it's dynamic, I am also an addict, to a tragic free life.
so when you say life's a ***** just know your the snitch that let life dig a ditch and placed you in it, now stop for a minute and think about it and try admit it, most of us don't get in it, we were just born in it. we woke up to walls around us, limitations.life is for the living, get out there and breathe in the fresh air, believe in something but beware, have good desires, coz if not you end up in the ditch this time burning with fire.
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 10:13 AM UTC
He may be twisted but deep inside,
I believe lies a man full of pure love and affection.
Grounded, surrounded, bossed around,
But sets me free into his safe arms.
As if fear drags us apart.
I was so blind, but now I see.
Now he's gone, but within I stay,
Regrets after regrets,
Are drowning me.
...
I remember the smiles he caused to be,
All the happiness flying through the soul inside of me.
But now you'll see it's not only me.
I'm glad to have seen, before letting go.
Regrets after regrets,
Cause' its crystal clear.
...
Saving what I have,turns out not fear.
I say thank you because it's all your fault.
Don't let what's bad blind your eyes,
It'll take your love , without your feel.
By: Zoulaikha
Nov 25, 2018
Nov 25, 2018 at 7:42 PM UTC
I am quiet. I am shy. But don’t you dare think for a minute that that means I have no voice. I am short, and I don’t speak unless called on, but don’t you dare think that that means that I am any less of a person. I have a voice, and I will be heard. I was forgotten on the bus because I was too quiet, too small, too shy. I am afraid to look people in the eye, to walk past a male without feeling in danger. I have been shoved, pushed, squished, and squashed! So I am fed up, and trust me, you don’t want to make me mad.
I am 14, I am a female, and I have a voice! I have opinions, and you **** well better listen! I will have opinions about my life, and I will have a say in the matter. You can try to put me down, but I’m already short! You wanna know why us short people have such fiery tempers? It’s because we are closer to hell. And we will give it to you too.
Don’t you dare tell me that I can’t. I can do anything, and I will do it better than you ever could. I was captain of my baseball team for 5 years. Yes, that’s right boys, I, the quiet, nerdy, small girl bossed your ***** around on the field.
My step-father insists I have no voice. Now, as I’ve said before, you know I do. My step-father insists that I am too young, my step-father insists, that I, know nothing. I want to yell, I want to scream out: “YES I DO!” But my mother insists I stay quiet. My mother insists that I should submit to his whims, my mother insists that I must behave for him, to not anger him, DO NOT ANGER THE BEAST! This is what I am taught every day!
Don’t you dare make him mad, don’t you dare have opinions, don’t you dare have a say. Because you are a 5’4, 14 year old female, raised by a single mother and a ***** donor. Because you come from the bottom of the heap, so why should you? Because you are bullied, because you are quiet, shy, short, nerdy, and you want to have a voice.
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 7:18 PM UTC
Opal
her name was
Opal
she should have been
Aunt
Opal
but she was
just
Opal
she was bossed around
and tossed around
by our Aunt Marie
we were afraid of her
Opal, that is
though Marie was no
sweet cup of tea
afraid just because she
looked different
though later
long after she’d gone
remembering her smiling round face
and thin slanted eyes
I guess we realized
but back then, we were kids
we didn’t understand
we didn’t see her much
and they didn’t tell us a thing
not who she was
not why she was there
not even that she was kin to our dad
a sister, in fact
she didn’t seem really loved
didn’t seem cared for that much
yet she was so quiet
and
calm
I’d love to go back
I’d love the chance
to smile and look up to her eyes
then
I’d take her hand
lead her gently around
and
call her my sweet
Aunt Opal!
Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 9:03 PM UTC
Ever think you know know what you want?
Then the next day you are startled to find yourself lost.
Are the majority of us walking around confused?
Lost in a moment only to find the moment's passed.
Certainty must be written in the smallest font.
We live in search of satisfaction, but at what cost?
Striving to be pleased with the small stuff, yet confused.
Living in glass boxes hoping the last stone to cast.
Who will set me free from these thoughts that haunt?
Strange as independent I am that I long to be bossed.
Wanting someone to shake me and break me from being confused.
Hurry come claim me and please make it fast.
April 6, 2012
Apr 6, 2012
Apr 6, 2012 at 11:30 PM UTC
dear idol i
want to be like you
dear idol i
want to be you
scratched your name into my arm
your face is my tattoo
your tattoo is my face
been listening a decade
to your lyrics i'm all
'bout it
wit it
re-in up
bossed up
fetish for dough
baby i be yours
take me as a gift
my game tizzop
Nov 16, 2019
Nov 16, 2019 at 8:56 PM UTC
in a void of air and space
music floats and keeps us safe
you need to listen
fo real and fo shizzle: listen
it's 3:45 everybody bossed up
dough fetish fantasies
the suzuki in a jakuzzi
keeps my mind busy
(keeps my mind busy)
how can you enter the next stage?
it's fo real like tizzops cage
the barrel of a golden gauge
look into my face: a rat race
never ending being fast paced
today is my last day but i will
remain
Mar 24, 2020
Mar 24, 2020 at 12:11 PM UTC
bells are ringing
hear the sound
i'm listening
six feet under ground
i've got a problem
so i've found
no one quite wants me around
i'm a challenge
i've sold my soul
but, i'm still waiting
in this hole
i hear the ringing
i'm set to go
but, i'm still waiting
in this hole
heaven don't want me
and hell ain't ready
not quite yet
hell ain't ready
sitting waiting
i'm ready teddy
heaven don't want me
and hell ain't ready
shot a man
because he crossed me
beat another
cause he bossed me
had a wife
but, now she's lost me
i'm stuck waiting in this hole
fought a war
that had no winner
i'm not a saing
i'm just a sinner
i choked to death
while eating dinner
i'm down here waiting
getting thinner
i'm stuck here in this hole
heaven don't want me
and hell ain't ready
not quite yet
hell ain't ready
sitting waiting
i'm ready teddy
heaven don't want me
and hell ain't ready
hell ain't ready
for me to go there
hell ain't ready
for what i'll do there
hell ain't ready
i think it ain't fair
i'm waiting in this hole
i'm ready, set to go
just waiting in this hole
but,,,hell ain't ready
heaven don't want me
and hell ain't ready
not quite yet
hell ain't ready
sitting waiting
i'm ready teddy
heaven don't want me
and hell ain't ready
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 12:12 AM UTC
Miss Schinzer do not undress
they said but she did and so
they locked her in the side
room alone and she heard the
key turn in the lock and that
was that she heard them walk
away along the passage heard
the footsteps getting soft and
softer then silence the silence
of that abbey she went to some
years back as a child and the nun
with her beady eyes said here
one must absorb the silence here
silence is our food and drink and
she remembered the way the nun
empathised the word silence
the way her lips moulded the word
as if it were brand new and not to
be damaged or spoilt but that was
then as a child before the voices
began before the orders were laid
out for her to obey do not undress
Miss Schinzer they had said but her
voices inside said undress take off
garment by garment and as you do
so think of Christ and how he was
disrobed and hammered to the wood
and she did hearing as she undressed
the hammer on nails the jacket and
then the blouse and then the brassiere
and she felt the chill about her *******
how they stiffened she thought waiting
to remove more cloth waiting for the
voice to say undress more of the clothes
and she recalled how Mr Dimpledone had
said the same thing but she was a child
then a girl in the choir but she didn’t ask
why she just undressed and he just stared
at her and said what are you doing child?
but you said so she said no no he said gruffly
be silent unless you want to leave the choir
but she didn’t remember him saying that not
then but couldn’t be sure and the voices said
take off the lower garments and so she removed
her skirt the black one the one that made her
look like a nun she took it off and then removed
her slip and underwear and sat on the floor quite
bare remembering the hanging Christ the hands
curled like ***** nailed to the cross beam his
naked flesh the wounds the blood and she lay
down flat and put out her arms forming a cross
and her legs tight together one foot touching
the other and over in the corner knitting and
humming some Schubert her bossed eyed mother.
Mar 15, 2013
Mar 15, 2013 at 8:39 AM UTC
A mirror is a perception
A trick of the mind
Try looking in a mirror and saying "I'm ugly"
And surely enough that is what you will see
Tainted looks and lost expression
My nose is too big
I have imperfections, including each and every freckle
I am bossed around by worldly views
Through the eyes of fashion magazines and top model
My thoughts pulse and with each pulse my list of imperfections lengthens
I've gained too much weight
I didn't need that sandwich
I need a hair cut
And a possible nose job
I turn away from the mirror
I look at my hands
I feel my waist
I feel skinny
I feel beautiful
So what is with these false perceptions?
These standards of beauty, only meant for a super human
**** the standards
**** the fliers, the model pictures
**** societies standards of me
Because I don't need them.
I've got mine.
Nov 18, 2010
Nov 18, 2010 at 7:06 PM UTC
Where are you to hold me when I need you to?
Where are the understanding thoughts others have of my imperfections when I can't help myself either?
Why do the horrid memories replay in my hippocampus when I thought I already turned them off?
Where is my mania to squash my depression half?
Why do I seem helpless and wait forever to succeed in the adult world?
Why do I get so intensely excited then become an antagonistic monster?
Why did I not know then what I know now?
Becoming a victim completely unaware.
Proved wrong and I strip to be the bad one
so everyone shuts up.
Humiliated and hurt and everyone looks out for me.
Naive behavior and hunger too strong I steal from others.
Tears swelling in front of small children.
A girl who wanted nothing but for me to suffer.
A boy who wanted nothing but my genitals.
A troubled woman who wanted nothing but my time.
A guy who wanted nothing but for me to be his *****
A guy who possessed me,
Though everyone at some point
Did.
I've been owned, abused, humiliated, hurt, assaulted, victimized, bullied, made fun of, attempted to **** myself, blown off, screamed at, fought with, admonished, antagonized, used, looked down on, bossed around, yelled at, pushed, shoved, thrown away.
Today,
I have love that is a beautiful miracle and proof I will be loved without being pushed into what's only for him.
I have a few good friends who care and don't grab my hand.
I occasionally hate who I'm becoming when the anger within is the kraken in my body swerves herself around me inside slowly and aggressively.
Only way she comes out is through profane vulgarity in my words and through my lips.
They're gone,
They're not mine,
They're hurtful,
But remember they're only for a moment.
I'll be done with the anger one day someday,
and the kraken is just a myth.
Though my traumatic stories may seem like a myth too,
be grateful I'm still here and
smiling.:)
Aug 8, 2016
Aug 8, 2016 at 10:20 PM UTC
you always spoke of a brighter future
were you referring to the 9 to 5 jobs?
to the apple pie life
or the romance lacking relationship with your wife?
did you mean the mortgages,
the taxes, or the men with grey hair in grey suits?
the jobs you do just for the money
or the people who speak too much, but are still mute?
did you mean the polluted skies or the cursing taxi drivers?
did you mean the way when she touches you, you feel no fire?
how nothing makes you feel alive
but you’re still not really dead?
how nothing is wrong
but you’re itching to put a bullet through your head?
when you said you were working towards a better future
did you mean a life of monotony, dullness and boredom?
what happened to your love of adventure, of mystery,
to your dreams of martyrdom?
looking back now,
would you take it all back?
would you change the way you did things
fill in the gaps?
or would you continue to oblige to the rules and regulations
would you still mindlessly follow the system?
would you carry on doing what they tell you?
those who bossed you around, would you still be with them?
or would you soar and fly
ask questions, ask why?
would you run in the jungles
and climb the highest mountains
would you swim in the seas
and tell your beloveds that you love them?
we only have one life
and we’re always waiting for it to change
we’re working towards a future
to which we have no claim
live, live, I beg you to live
make mistakes and fall
then get back on your feet
don’t hesitate, take it all
for the future is not ours
and the past is too late
but we have the present
don’t let it go to waste
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 12:53 PM UTC
What Fun!
I worked in a small call centre once
The boss was fed up of being bossed about
So left his job and set up his own call centre
He became his own boss and my boss
Gave me a job dialling varied accounts
In the US UK and Australia
Including tech support surveys sales
Plus education and B2B accounts
I learnt so much in my year with him
It was different and challenging
Each day was different even fun
I was gal agents cry I saw guys battle
We work drank sang ate danced
In my first year of BPO work
I’d do it all again oh what fun!
Aug 4, 2023
Aug 4, 2023 at 10:26 PM UTC
I used to have a voice of my own
It used to sing often, but song was not its only channel
It laughed, cried, urged, cajoled, conversed, loved, cared, preached, bossed, and obeyed.
But my voice got lost in the shadows of my keep
I don't know how, but I think I know why
I could tell I was losing my voice,
could feel it bleed away
No longer acting with edge, it first became dull
then quieter, then simply gone
Along the way, I would ask to talk just to keep my voice alive
I would beg to listen, just so my voice could find a partner to stay with
I got no voice in return, so soon mine stopped trying too
As it got quieter, I would sit in my car and scream at the steering wheel.
Surely, the steering wheel had to listen. Alas not.
But it didn't matter, because the sound of my own scream proved to me
that my voice was not gone yet, still alive inside of me
Just the act of screaming was a release for my voice
Each day, my voice got ever quieter
One day I screamed in the car, and I heard nothing. Gone.
After all these years, my voice came back at me.
Not from my mouth, an echo from another.
Across a chasm I can not reach nor see.
Still I hear a voice. Not my voice. But my voice.
I hear my voice.
It started not as a whisper, but a scream.
My voice was screaming at me.
I could not hear what it said, but I know it was my voice
I still hear it, but it still can't tell me what I need to know
So much unsure, uncertain.
Will my voice stay with me this time?
Will the echos grow closer, and will I cross that chasm?
I do not scream in my car now, because I don't need that to proved to me
that my voice is not gone yet, still alive inside of me
I have other ways now. Healthier ways. Richer ways
My voice is coming back. The echos are still here too.
I need all of it, and it needs me
Again I have a voice of my own, and I have my echo to thank.
Someday, there will be no chasm, and the echo will know too.
May 7, 2012
May 7, 2012 at 11:46 AM UTC
HE ALLAN FAMILY STORY = BRIAN IS GETTING TEASED
YA SEE BRIAN USED TO STARE LIKE, PEOPLE STEALING HIS LUNCH
AND STICKING DRAWING PINS UP HIS *** AND BEING YELLED AT
BY ****** PEOPLE AND BRIAN CAN’T STAND IT, IT’S ALRIGHT WHILE
BRIAN WAS STILL IN SCHOOL, BECAUSE KIDS TEASE, BUT IT WAS
WHEN HE STARTED WORK AT THE CANBERRA REX HOTEL, BRIAN
BOSSED PEOPLE AROUND, L;IKE HE WAS KING **** OR SOMETHING
AND TWO FILOPINOS TEASED BRIAN, BY THROWING HIS BIKE IN THE
LINEN TROLLEYBAD, AND THEN, SOME OTHER ****
YELLED AT HIM, BRIAN WAS SCARED, AND THEN STEVE YELLED AT HIM
BECAUSE BRIAN TEASED HIM, AFTER BRIAN WAS STRUGGLING WITH
THE HORRIBLE TEASING AT THE LETS COURSE, BECAUSE BRIAN PREFERRED
TO WATCH TV RATHER THAN DO WOOD WORK AND ALSO REFUSED TO PLAY VOLLEYBALL
ONE REASON IS, THAT LET’S COURSE REALLY ****** AND BRIAN HATES
WHEN EVERYONE RAN INTO HIM, BECAUSE, HE WAS SCARED OF THESE TEASERS,
IT’S NATURAL TO BE SCARED OF TEASERS, LIKE THAT, BRIAN SAID, I PREFER
TO BE IN MY OWN OWN WORLD RATHER THAN BE WITH YOU, AND AT THE
CAR DETAILING COURSE, THIS MAN CLINTON, FOLDED HIS ARMS, YA SEE
HE WAS A MECHAINC, AND THESE TWO YOUNGER ONES WERE SAYING
TO ME WOOSEY WOOSEY WOOSEY WOOSEY, POOFTER POOFTER
AND CLINTON GOT IN THE ACT TO, AS I WAS CLEANING THE CAR
CLINTON SLAMMED THE DOOR, ON ME, PERSONALLY, I FELT VERY WEIRD
FROM THAT SORT OF TEASING, BUT I AM READY FOR TEASING IF I BECOME
FAMOUS ON STAGE, YOU SEE PEOPLE ARE TEASING ME ON THE COMPUTER
AND IN REAL LIFE, I AM A FAMILY PERSON, PART OF THE ALLAN CLAN
YOU SEE, THIS TEASING WAS HORRIBLE, AND IT WAS BECAUSE BRIAN WAS STUPID
AT THE MOMENT, BRIAN LIKES DOING THINGS, IN A CREATIVE WAY
JOINING FACE BOOK, YOUTUBE AND MANY MORE INTERNET SITES
BUT THIS TEASING IS COMING THROUGH THE COSMOS BY HIS GOOD MATE PAT
I
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 7:00 AM UTC
in the beginning we counted no cost
but went rejoicing into the warm rain
so now more grimly we face what we've lost
so many choices into the mix tossed
almost at random it all seemed so plain
in the beginning we counted no cost
as being worth waiting no text was glossed
for hidden messages all was just gain
so now more grimly we face what we've lost
a world more troubled a future star-crossed
no brilliant thoughts emerging from each brain
in the beginning we counted no cost
instead we are the ones who now are bossed
ordered about and marked with a sad stain
so now more grimly we face what we've lost
knowing that morning will see the first frost
that signals a new winter with its pain
in the beginning we counted no cost
so now more grimly we face what we've lost
Sep 30, 2013
Sep 30, 2013 at 8:45 AM UTC
~When I was 4
my parents left me in a car
in an unfamiliar neighborhood
while they attended a party
because I had fallen asleep
When I awoke
I cried
and went to a strangers house
asking for my mom
they called the cops
it was my fault.
~When I was 7
I got home after school
nobody was home
I waited a little bit
then called my friend's mom
scared, and had them pick me up
When my parents got home
a little bit later
they had been shopping
everything was fine
it was my fault.
~When I was 9
I began to have night terrors
I couldn't sleep
I cried and cried
my dad tried to understand
but there was only so much he could take
he made me sleep alone
upstairs
but I didn't sleep
I was afraid
and it was my fault.
~When I was 11
I found some friends
they were really cool
and I wasn't cool enough for them
they bossed me around
and I bought them ice cream
When my best friend
told me that Janelle was her best friend
not me
I cried, I didn't understand
and it was my fault.
~When I was thirteen
I thought I was in love
though I didn't know loves meaning
I was fooled and tricked
led on and hurt
I was pathetic
and it was my fault.
~When I was 15
I got over my first love
found a boy that was very cute
he said he loved me
and we made love
my first time
and many more followed
but it was all a lie
and mind games began
I believed him
it was my fault.
~When I was 17
I met a boy
whose heart was a diamond
who touched every person he met
he was loved by all
a caring, understanding, trustworthy person
something I had never come across
I took that amazing beautiful thing
the one person that told me
it's not your fault
and ruined it for myself
and it was my fault.
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 12:23 AM UTC
Why do I stop writing when I know I'm going mantally insane
Not saying what I want to say
Dealing with life everyday
If you haven't figure it out now
I'm venting my feelings
In the only way I know how
My poetry is my therapist
And my words and thoughts are
The things that calm me down
Because I'm bossed around on the daily
And expected to do the unexpected
Feeling so stretched thin
Can almost scream
because the stress it brings
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 11:37 PM UTC
what can i feel
but the beating of my own heart
the acheing of my own flesh
the damnation of my own soul and mind
that i go through this pain
this torture
and i can only call it this
life
the memories and tortures i share
the moment i bleed
for the blood drains away
through the deep wounds
the ones i have
my heart is heavy
there's a hand there
squeezing harder and harder
i feel it but am powerless to stop it
tighter, tighter
but the beat doesn't slow
it's torture
agony
the pain i face
i need to lash out
need to cry
want to feel safe
but nowhere is safe
not anymore
i need to run
i can't stay
i don't want to
but i'm forced to
i have to
have to stay in this place
where i'm ******
where i'm condemned
why can't i die
as i write i see this
i'm shaking now
not afraid
but ****** off
i am helpless
i keep losing the battle
i have two wars
one outside
and one inside
both tearing me apart
limb by limb
part by part
piece by piece
'tll there's nothing left
i feel sick
lost
i contemplate my demise
would anyone miss me
i don't know
maybe
those who don't fully know mw
just one thing stoping me
i hate pain
if only i could ask someone
to come **** me quickly
if they'd do it
i'd be ok
knowing
i didn't wouldn't
deal with this
****** up
world anymore
please!!!
anyone???
i'm begging anyone too
to please help
and put me out of my misery
i want out...
no, wait... not want...
no...NEED out...
i'm so cold
i'm alone
completely
utterly
alone...
and i don't know what to do
i want/need to cry,
to let the pain out,
but they won't come
i need to scream
but i can't
i'm not allowed to
i'm just supposed to listen
to be the perfect little slave
to be bossed about
and to do everything perfectly
i'm tired now
hopefully i can fall asleep
and never wake up
so i say good bye
and maybe we'll meet again
someday
Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 12:45 PM UTC
"I'll probably be in the bathroom before it, throwing up," says my Union representation
I'm in her office, seeking her advice
And she knows exactly what I'm going through
Except for her it was because of another him, not you
And now it's you. Now it's both of our plight.
You sent me to her because you're "concerned"
If I don't play my cards right, from you I'll be burned
"If he doesn't know what to do,
if he feels cornered he'll get abusive and attack."
Says another ally who has my back
My union rep feels my pain
Why are we on this sick train?
Bossed by people with no people skills
Do they think they don't need to deal with human beings?
Lies about me, you think are truths.
Can I shake loose?
Or is this just going to turn ugly
Take the higher ground, she says
Document everything says the other
One way or another
I feel the crowd closing in
Targeted, cases made against me about how I don't fit in
Willfully ignore the rules
To think I once thought we'd be friends
Well, that is at an end.
I don't know if I'll survive
Now I can barely look at you, barely say "hi"
Always at the end,
I gather around women
we help each other
we must defend
against the gathering male onslaught
people who attack without thought
Never a man in sight
The knight is a myth, it's right
The knight is the one with the weapon
And we women must gather together for protection
Nov 11, 2012
Nov 11, 2012 at 12:37 PM UTC
I want to Hunt.
I want to find Prey, and take from it, the way Predators have done since time immemorial.
Beasts like me are meant to Hunt, not sit around and play pretend that we're Prey, or are just there to be guard dogs for them against, "bad people".
I don't want to be subjugated by Prey animals because of their opinions on how a Beast should act when I am perfectly capable of breaking every bone in the hand they're using to stick their finger in my face.
I tire of being bossed about by Prey and by Weak Beasts. I tire of being limited based on fantastical versions of reality in which there are no Predators. What angers me most is that there's enough Weaklings that are willing to defend the Prey that I can't have at any of them without being locked in a cage or killed. By my OWN KIND.
Someday soon, when the laws of Men fail, and We the People are forced to fend for themselves...they will remember that the Predators are still there.
When the laws of Nature that Prey thought they could hide from come, yet again, into effect- they will remember.
And they will wish that they had hidden more carefully.
Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 6:55 AM UTC