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"chocked" poems
My voice is a wall of glass On the both side of the wall it's all the same The roof is consisted of umbrella-shaped beams The world is an embroidered web I'm a spider that don't spew silk cling on to intertwining iron bars Accidentally chocked my fly to death Buried it in the oblivion sky Fed on chitchat I'm now becoming a skinny, wind up bird.
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May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 11:53 AM UTC
A Parrot in a cage
I want to get on my knee I want to make you mine I feel more secure when you are tied Put a ring on your finger? Baby, I won’t be satisfied I want you so badly I’m obsessed, and you are hypnotized Never a day I don’t wonder how we’ve got drowned in this love and crime Guess that’s what people say I’m your longing You fulfill my appetite I can only see love Through your throbbing veins on your sternal line I can only hear love Through the screaming and crying When you are chocked by the chain When you are hopeless and frightened I know I’ve loved you right No one else matters Nothing else shines Your existence means more than my life But baby I’d only get on my knee when you die
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Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 11:49 PM UTC
Proposal
We held hands as time's sand passed between. Night chocked the last sun beams. Our conversation was pertinent to the dwindling red wine bottle. As the moon glazed shore began to roar, she whispered "Let's cuddle." I dropped you, holding her, and thought "Oh" and began to coddle. I wrapped myself around her like a shell to a turtle and she began to nestle on my chest. I guessed the indigestion came from the Bordeaux bottom. Boy, was I wrong. See, as I lay with her, forgetting about you, I remembered blood is thicker than water. The loves we choose are stronger than ones We've fallen into. I wasn't falling there, underneath the stars, next to the parked car. I was laying. I was contemplating as the wind was spraying the lake into the air. I came to the conclusion I was in an illusion of  love. Confounded by smoke and reflections from movie magicians. She looked up to me and I guess she could see my reality crumbling in the breeze. She asked if I was ok. My slight smile alluded I was and we laid in love until the sun's intrusion.
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May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 4:44 PM UTC
Moonlight Disillusion
I am a Lego Build me up brick by brick Build me strong, build me weak I could be pretty Or I could make you sick But a 4 year old kid Shouldn’t touch me Cause he’s not ready He might as well be chocked By swallowing me Or changed his mind And decided that He wants other cheap toys To play with
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Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 1:29 PM UTC
Lego
I thought of you, when you thought of me. I deleted all our memories off my phone. The ones where we're smiling, As if in a few short months, We didn't know we'd be nothing to each other, You gave me a quiet hey, I gave you a simple nod, We asked about each other's lifes, I found that quite odd, Because it feels like just yesterday, You knew me better than myself, But you told me about your new job, 1500 a night, Taking your clothes off for girls, As if that was right, I asked jokingly if you charged extra for the guys, You nodded without missing a beat, I felt chocked up inside, I just grinned and said I remember when I got all of that for free.
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Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 10:46 PM UTC
Untitled
I waited for the breeze to blow me the fragrance of your hair your curls were caught in the wind your strands strangled me of air I waited for the breeze to blow me the scent of your skin but the sweetest of oils from your pores were diamanté drops dried by the wind I waited for the breeze to bring me the fresh breath of your mouth The wind welcomed the smoke I chocked, crying like a cloud If you asked me, to get to you which of the two would I cease? I would have enslaved the wind my love, and set free the breeze
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Jan 5, 2022
Jan 5, 2022 at 3:57 AM UTC
I waited for the breeze
Tears trail familiar cheek bones. Pick up your pen and paper Chocked cries echo in silence. Don't drop your pen and paper Turmoil tears the inside. Press down your pen to paper Allow all the words to move you. As your pen dances on paper Let loose the ink to fly free and wild. Just put your pen to paper Wonderful worlds might crash and burn. But you can put your pen to paper Do you feel that healing magic? As you remove your pen from paper Can you feel your heart grow light? As you rest your tired pen from paper Do you know what it feels like? When you put your pen to paper
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May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 9:42 AM UTC
Pen to Paper
What happens to the rose when it dies? When it is chocked by its thorny foes Does it green blood soak the earth to water more plants of love? Do its crimson leaves fold their petals in pain? What happens to the rose when it dies? By the hands of a stray lover in search of a gift Do the lovers drain all their tear wells? Perhaps they merry as its mortal remains Passes from his hand to her hand, from his heart to her heart What happens to the rose when it dies? Is it ever eulogized and its memorials held Or is the emblem of love left in pile ash of bygone? Is the rose ever buried and how does its epitaph read? What happens to the rose when it dies? Does it body like man’s decay leaving nothing but dry bones? Is it folded and placed inside an old love book? Who knows what happens to the rose when it dies?
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Oct 11, 2016
Oct 11, 2016 at 8:52 AM UTC
What happens to the rose when it dies
**There lay sadness so deep in his hazelnut brown eyes. It startled her. Could this be because of a mother’s love that chocked him deep down to the bone. Drifting away through the black and grey trying to avoid everyone who came into his way. He found a girl who was sad and blue. “I might as well follow you on twitter too” he said to himself. Exchanging thoughts and ideas they decided to stay together. Become better and walk out of the misery they lived through. A date and two he found himself drenched in her love. “How could you be prettier than emeralds and all the stars. How could you be prettier than the fresh blood red roses people leave for their loved ones over their grey silver grave stones ?” You brought me to life when all I wanted to do was stay home till death comes and picks me away to the heavens like they say. “The sadness in your eyes told me that you need someone to love you and stay” was all she said while she looked at him straight ahead as he blushed and turned ruby red. Take this feather and ink and write me down into your story. Ink my skin with words of love. But let me tell you one thing first I see dandelions and happy wishes too behind the darkness you hold inside of you. And gardens about to burst with wild flowers , butterflies and daylights sunshine. He held her tight and poems began to roll down her arms and thighs** *They made vows to be together even after fifty. Promises seem like sweet nothings and cheesy, but what they felt inside was real. "Exterior is only what beauty defined. Interior is where your heart refines" she said to him everytime. Their 'ILoveyous' never been feigned to just saying it. Everytime those three words versed out loud, they can feel their hearts glued together. Beating to the same nocturne rhythm. Both beautifully in tune, in sync. Both of them knew this is how they truly feel. Heart's that were once armored with steel. Stolen and found their nest where they truly belong. Like a ship that needs its keel. They sail through stormy oceans to finish their last song* ~
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Jan 1, 2015
Jan 1, 2015 at 3:12 PM UTC
I Love You (A collaboration with Erenn Y)
**There lay sadness so deep in his hazelnut brown eyes. It startled her. Could this be because of a mother’s love that chocked him deep down to the bone. Drifting away through the black and grey trying to avoid everyone who came into his way. He found a girl who was sad and blue. “I might as well follow you on twitter too” he said to himself. Exchanging thoughts and ideas they decided to stay together. Become better and walk out of the misery they lived through. A date and two he found himself drenched in her love. “How could you be prettier than emeralds and all the stars. How could you be prettier than the fresh blood red roses people leave for their loved ones over their grey silver grave stones ?” You brought me to life when all I wanted to do was stay home till death comes and picks me away to the heavens like they say. “The sadness in your eyes told me that you need someone to love you and stay” was all she said while she looked at him straight ahead as he blushed and turned ruby red. Take this feather and ink and write me down into your story. Ink my skin with words of love. But let me tell you one thing first I see dandelions and happy wishes too behind the darkness you hold inside of you. And gardens about to burst with wild flowers , butterflies and daylights sunshine. He held her tight and poems began to roll down her arms and thighs** *They made vows to be together even after fifty. Promises seem like sweet nothings and cheesy, but what they felt inside was real. "Exterior is only what beauty defined. Interior is where your heart refines" she said to him everytime. Their 'ILoveyous' never been feigned to just saying it. Everytime those three words versed out loud, they can feel their hearts glued together. Beating to the same nocturne rhythm. Both beautifully in tune, in sync. Both of them knew this is how they truly feel. Heart's that were once armored with steel. Stolen and found their nest where they truly belong. Like a ship that needs its keel. They sail through stormy oceans to finish their last song* ~
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The age, when they are supposed to play with toys Picking up the broken & trashes for others, these Garbage boys In the piles of disposed plastic chocked their story sentimental The boys, dusty body so frail & gentle Wrapped in clothes, tattered torn, dull & discolored like them Surviving against the rules of Darwin Too starved & malnutritioned & no one cares Only the open sky & thrown food, they share In the chaos of every city they have to find a place to sleep They collect the things, what people call waste & cheap No parents, no future, just the harsh life on the road side Living in their small world unaware with pride Shiny cars & luxury clothes, sparks their eyes Telling that they have dreams, But Their memories full of hate, insult & razed Which are permanent & can't be erased Unexpected rains, deadly cold & sweaty summers Not every one of them end up like a Kite Runner When people sleep comfortably in their sweet home They stand there with the fainted & blurred shadow alone
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Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 2:08 PM UTC
The Garbage boys
nor a fox not wise with claws and pipes a forests breath with death ripe just a day in paradise, that's all i pray. no fool for a price nor a herd for a prize malfunctioning slight chocked with parasites just a day in paradise, if it wasn't for today. spoiled thoughts and foiled spite caught then boxed with no air to bite lost and left, kept for the nights in transparent red herein painted quiet just a day in paradise, for the one who pays. in a stranger's head with debt of dice where heaven lays and the dead shall rise seven solemn days that'll never come twice mourning for prey by a mornings pride just a day in paradise, for a day in paradise if it wasn't for today. kissed by the fire shut with wire no word nor desire and made in ice broken prism's charm in arms of a lover born away and in white doused in hope and not a dime to pay no dream nor life just a day in paradise, and it'll never go away. where beauty slays and inferno hides dante's meal and a mountains might where a valley bleeds from a pelters diet melting the stones and people alike just a day in paradise, that's all there's to say. whence scars bleed opened far wide and the hour sleeps in fear and fright where words fail to tell and describe rotten and stale fighting the lights just a day in paradise, for the one who stayed. nor a fox not wise with claws and pipes a forest's breath with death ripe just a day in paradise, and that's all i pray.
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Sep 11, 2019
Sep 11, 2019 at 4:39 PM UTC
what shall you be in paradise ?
As I woke up from my bed there were tears in my eyes ready to shed still unable to come out of my last night dream all I wanted was to scream unable to scream i got chocked out felling the familiar pain i broke out breaking my numbness pain was taking the toll etching and tearing my soul As I tried to remember the time u left me alone tossed me out of your life like a stone leaving me crying and pleading for u I don't know why but my heart still bleeds for u dejected and forlorn I tried to strife I tried to smile as i tried to carry on this wretched life of mine for another while I tried to laugh n laugh out aloud carrying a happy go lucky face in the crowd I tried hard but it all went in vain as the memories of you keep coming back again n again intensifying the pain pain it was making me insane Now no longer can i sustain so I walked towards the last lane took the blade n slit opened my vein watching blood taking its last earthly ride I closed my eyes and wish to see you on the other side..
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Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 6:44 AM UTC
See you on the other side
In VANCHINADU EXPRESS By the window I sat with stress. Munching by the dust-bin sat a mouse. Disturbed soul in mouse-trap-inn Though dismayed senses beamed in shells trio- The encircling walls that make three koshas- Annamaya of metals and minerals As the shell of eggs form; form the body. Manomaya of thought-waves is magnetic field active; As prana vibrates in its shell pranamaya kosha Dead engine whistled abrupt; On the rails the train swaying moved Vanchinadu express swaying moved. How can I express its pressing stress? In dress is my body ; in body my spirit: the soul, Under pressure of crowd and crowding thoughts. Smoke clouds of the engine chocked me, shook me. How can I express this pressing stress? The stress of balloons soaring high up Of surging waves and volcanoes live How..how can…how can I express? Am I not one, one among them? Oh! Calm mouse, you too not ? How- Express? X Y press?- Progress? Regress? Elite- Soul's Senses- How I express? Note: 1. Annamaya kosha= shell of body;manomaya kosha= shell of mind;pranamaya kosha=shell of soul/nucleus. 2. X and y are chromosomes 3. Vanchinadu express is the express train servicing from Ernakulam to Thiruvanamthapuram
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Feb 29, 2012
Feb 29, 2012 at 10:06 PM UTC
How can I express?
Recollections on Chaliyar. In youthfulness was Chaliyar. As I saw her next , from afar Amidst the greenery was, she Dancing in pleated clothes. In spotlight of the setting sun In tune the Air that hummed On rail the wheels trumpeted Gallery across the river I stood Watching her”jahiliat” life moves Lured all by giggle and smile Ripples, eddies her beauty spots She was mine I was hers! Oh! My Chaliyar, recall, whence We started and parted; Made our veins venomous. By-gone are by-gone- God loves and pardons ; He is with them that pardons God won’t hear our prayer If we keep deaf ear to prayer. Unrelenting oars push a yacht. The fume of trade shrouded me With the smoke of train chocked Down in water I plunged, yelled Help, Help Oh! helpless yelp. THE TIME rippled, wriggled Coiled around while none But Allah held me around. On a delta I lay bare; hence I write on rights we need. ………. Note : Chaliyar is a river in northern Kerala, India, once most polluted. “Jahiliat’ is an Arabic word means uncultured/impure period in life. Allah is the name to denote the Almighty Creator that all religions expected to worship.
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Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 10:00 PM UTC
Recollections on Chaliyar
Exhausted, Celia laid in bed. Staring at a cockroach trapped on a spider web. She laid in bed, motionless. Thinking of what she had done two minutes ago. In a matter of seconds she had chocked and mutilated him. She had cut his hands, cut his throat and his manly ***** In her mind he kept insulting and belittling her, but she had been stronger. She had defended herself. He could no longer take advantage of her. Celia saw how the cockroach gasped for her last breath while the spider started to rip her apart starting with her heart. But as always when the sun peeked through the window, Celia saw him there, sleeping beside her. A dormant lion, who would soon come for his prey.
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May 16, 2013
May 16, 2013 at 6:38 PM UTC
Trapped
Again...I missed the school bus Easy...I blamed my dad He ran too slow Failed to chase the bus for me Disgusted... I refused to speak Annoyed...Sitting in the living... Staring at the window.. Outside a heavy downpour... Silently blaming the rain If it wasn’t too cold that morning.. I wouldn’t have pulled my blanket ... And closed my eyes too tight... A ROARING rain in my heart... I heard dad was shouting at mom He blamed mom for waking up late An expected storm ... mom bursts in the kitchen... No blaming me she said... extremely loud The alarm clock... went silent you know!! A chocked in her throat... A tiny tear at the corner of her eyes... Steamy Air of tension surrounded the house... It was easy to blame the alarm clock For a moment I thought... It wouldn’t shout back to defend itself It went dead... it wasn’t anybody’s fault... I missed the bus, dad missed his work... Mom missed her "morning good bye" kiss... The cute alarm clock ... a gift from my aunty Stood by the bed so timidly... so innocently... Unexpectedly... My Furious-ed dad... threw the alarm clock out the window Surprisingly... it was screaming in the rain Perhaps...Tired of our blaming game.. Funny...As it fell to the ground.. Kring!! Kring!! Kring!! So loud so clear was the sound.. Instead of getting mad... Dad, Mom and me... giggled... We were all laughing like mad... A damaged machine in the heavy rain... Tickled our hearts...
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Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 12:05 AM UTC
The rain... The bus... The alarm clock...
As I lie awake at night I can’t help, but think Think of all the things that person said to me Think of all the ways I’ve embarrassed myself Think of all the things I said to that boy While he wasn’t giving me a second of his time I didn’t ask for this I didn’t ask for these thoughts to run through my head All these ‘What if’s and ‘No, not that’s I didn’t ask to get chocked up every time I talk to someone because I’m afraid I might say something I might regret. And yet, that seems to be every word that tumbles from my mouth Like a faucet full of remorse that can not be shut off Watching other people I can only seem to hate them as I pray to some sort of all-powering being that I will be able to over-come this That one day I will be able to freely roll words off of my tongue without wishing I could gobble them back up. And yet everyone else is able to do it They are all able to say what they want To express their opinions with no second thoughts With no worries that someone might disagree Every morning is a struggle just to pry myself from my sheets To face every day with a smile Because lately even picking out a outfit I find exceptable seems torturous And then half way through first period I decide I shouldn’t have worn it And there’s no escape I always have this weight on my shoulder that is weighed down with nasty words my brain has formed Picking at the slivers of self-confidence I have left. Like a hungry Vulture cleaning up scraps on the side of the road And some people have to power to fix it They become stronger And learn how to be better And I? I lie awake at night. And I can’t help but think
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Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 7:22 PM UTC
Anxiety
As I lie awake at night I can’t help, but think Think of all the things that person said to me Think of all the ways I’ve embarrassed myself Think of all the things I said to that boy While he wasn’t giving me a second of his time I didn’t ask for this I didn’t ask for these thoughts to run through my head All these ‘What if’s and ‘No, not that’s I didn’t ask to get chocked up every time I talk to someone because I’m afraid I might say something I might regret. And yet, that seems to be every word that tumbles from my mouth Like a faucet full of remorse that can not be shut off Watching other people I can only seem to hate them as I pray to some sort of all-powering being that I will be able to over-come this That one day I will be able to freely roll words off of my tongue without wishing I could gobble them back up. And yet everyone else is able to do it They are all able to say what they want To express their opinions with no second thoughts With no worries that someone might disagree Every morning is a struggle just to pry myself from my sheets To face every day with a smile Because lately even picking out a outfit I find exceptable seems torturous And then half way through first period I decide I shouldn’t have worn it And there’s no escape I always have this weight on my shoulder that is weighed down with nasty words my brain has formed Picking at the slivers of self-confidence I have left. Like a hungry Vulture cleaning up scraps on the side of the road And some people have to power to fix it They become stronger And learn how to be better And I? I lie awake at night. And I can’t help but think
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discipline keeps the mind focussed a sick laughing in the background rivers of knowledge, psychology i got your back if you got mine ancestors stole my land, my brain existence revolves around dollars you don't know the voices in my head they are trying to control me, kid how can they spot my very location? i was born in a dump, my father a drunk my momma died during my birth; my fault? let me blow up all the golden buildings my mind be the place where i make plans people told me that "slang" was "horrible" nobody has to like that, you feel me? my skin color is black and white, you know? don't let them get into my head, **** voices can i walk the streets freely? who trusts me? golden opportunities all over the place don't ask a nameless what his name is he will never tell you but shoot someone it's simply not wise, we want justice when your heart is turning ice cold hour of the ******* hour of the sucker the bassline trembles, i'm shivering females are entering my safe house armed with prejudices and dishonor i'm already dead, words chocked me too much poetry, nowhere to go **** this end, i will come back!
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Jun 11, 2020
Jun 11, 2020 at 11:48 PM UTC
Verses Of A Nameless
Watching half the smoke I blow Drift out of the open window The stragglers Sweep and slide The daffodil walls Of the space I abide The Spiritual Stoners Of the Atmospheric Guild world wide Dancing daintily Across my forcibly feminine Detour-decor For everywhere I lay nomadic root Is only a U-turn Or Do-Not-Park I’m living on Baltic While the coughed up lung I chocked out holds out Beelzebub’s Idea of a promise For Park Place Or Boardwalk Somewhere the hands of Time Aren't mounted on a clock A room where the (inhale) Tetrohydoncannabinoly Induced stupor isn't the Only thing That’s S    T         A              B                    L             E
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Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 3:15 AM UTC
Stragglers
I think that I've become the one who's every choice brings pain who's every adventure ended in other's tears who's every action cost other's dearly I think I've been the one to load the gun that always craved more and never learned to refrain that made the night times turn cold and bring in fears who's lied in every word spoken clearly I think I've become the boy who takes but never gives of himself who wants the world for his toy and drinks it down to his own health I think I made this bed where I lie and made it feel unloving to hold my hand I watched so many suffer in tears as they cried and I listened with no intention to ever understand I think I broke the skin with my kiss and stole the prized things they'd miss I think I said I cared then let them slit their wrists and I created this the world stopped loving me they all stopped loving me they all saw through the guise and learned to hate the mayhem and no one can blame them I think that I've choked all lasting love dead and poured bitter ink in all the wine I think I've left stains with everything I've said eaten all the fruit and killed the vine I think I sold their affections for things that shine I think I've smashed my own glass walls I think I'm about to suffer the cost of selfish crimes and see that I'm left with nothing at all I think I bled them dry chasing a bliss and touched the soft with a crippling fist I think I promised but never cared of promises missed and I created this they all stopped loving me my world stopped loving me they all chocked for the last time on my poisoned mayhem and no one can blame them
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Nov 6, 2012
Nov 6, 2012 at 11:21 PM UTC
TRUTHFULLY
I think that I've become the one who's every choice brings pain who's every adventure ended in other's tears who's every action cost other's dearly I think I've been the one to load the gun that always craved more and never learned to refrain that made the night times turn cold and bring in fears who's lied in every word spoken clearly I think I've become the boy who takes but never gives of himself who wants the world for his toy and drinks it down to his own health I think I made this bed where I lie and made it feel unloving to hold my hand I watched so many suffer in tears as they cried and I listened with no intention to ever understand I think I broke the skin with my kiss and stole the prized things they'd miss I think I said I cared then let them slit their wrists and I created this the world stopped loving me they all stopped loving me they all saw through the guise and learned to hate the mayhem and no one can blame them I think that I've choked all lasting love dead and poured bitter ink in all the wine I think I've left stains with everything I've said eaten all the fruit and killed the vine I think I sold their affections for things that shine I think I've smashed my own glass walls I think I'm about to suffer the cost of selfish crimes and see that I'm left with nothing at all I think I bled them dry chasing a bliss and touched the soft with a crippling fist I think I promised but never cared of promises missed and I created this they all stopped loving me my world stopped loving me they all chocked for the last time on my poisoned mayhem and no one can blame them
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Young love thrives on the lies literature tells, the boat rides and the promise of an ending that includes wedding bells. My love died on the same twinkle of star that also lit my heart. We were doomed before our troublesome start. So let me tell you the truth, you loved me and I loved you. But at the same time your tongue spit these words out into the bitter air, spiders and ghouls were placed there. By the time you cut the sanity out of what was yours and mine; tore up the memories that kept me fine; and set fire to everything you could find, I was already at bay with thoughts of  mine. I clipped at my hair because “it looks so pretty long." And I curse through the lyrics to your favorite song. I bit off my nails because “your nails are so pretty when you paint them" but not bare according to you. Your new girl with the french tips prove true. I smoked and I drank and I threw up whiskey, I passed out till I could no longer pass out anymore and I put on those jeans you once wore, and I chocked on a giggle because of that cute dent I remembered you knocked in my car door. When it's all over and done and when I can start to drink for the fun will be the day I will no longer curse my past, for surely I knew our devilish love could not last.
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Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 7:48 PM UTC
Our devilish love
on my bookshelf there are seven shelves stacked with new worlds each page full of moments chocked with emotions from happiness to heartbreak from anguish to bliss i am from that constellation of feelings so far apart but somehow connected
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Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 2:24 AM UTC
a constellation
Another plain ole average day. Facing the treacherous walk through the bustling streets. Swimming against the fish who never look up. Distracted constantly. Faces you'd never know, were people too. Forecast predicted some winds. Advisory to stay at home. We all know there is no such thing when it comes to work. Grabbed the rain coat and on I went. Barely made it a single block. Couldn't see two street lights ahead. The fish were scarred. Slamming off one another. This was no average storm. A splash. A wave. Puddle ruined my pants. Passing car coated me with only god knows what. These were ***** waters. Soon rivers, took over the concrete. A rainforest of a jungle now. My tie chocked up my neck. Briefcase forced me to sink. My eyes soon were teased. I was stranded out at sea, or so it seemed. Until I crashed into an island. I soon found as a haven. Standing beneath the city clock. I waited patiently. Knowing I would never survive out there. Until, a beacon shined through all the grey. My skin froze. No, not from the rain. From the way this women looked at me. Hesitant yet amazed. Awe filled up inside her faster than it did in me. I blinked. Thought maybe I have finally gone insane. But no, this was happening. We both stood in place as if the hands of time broke down. Something kept the gears idle within the clock tower. We were drenched from the passing storm. Standing under this monument. We paused accepting the falling waters of the sky. Cowardly so, we never even spoke. Just admired. Simply and silently. Two statues stuck in a daze. Standing as skyscrapers amongst umbrellas. Looking into each other for a moment that lasted long beyond both our years. The water washed away our wear and tears. The city vanished. The storm ceased to be a bother. The fish faded into the ocean. It was just me and her. Shipwrecked. Stranded. Alone. Or so we thought before. Soon learned, our destinations were never meant to be. We fell in love. Swiftly and unexpectedly. The way the heavens intended. Grey clouds blew through us both and out came the sun. If not for this treacherous storm, I would have never met... her. - Nicholas A. McNutt
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Jun 27, 2015
Jun 27, 2015 at 2:50 PM UTC
Skyscrapers Amongst Umbrellas
Another plain ole average day. Facing the treacherous walk through the bustling streets. Swimming against the fish who never look up. Distracted constantly. Faces you'd never know, were people too. Forecast predicted some winds. Advisory to stay at home. We all know there is no such thing when it comes to work. Grabbed the rain coat and on I went. Barely made it a single block. Couldn't see two street lights ahead. The fish were scarred. Slamming off one another. This was no average storm. A splash. A wave. Puddle ruined my pants. Passing car coated me with only god knows what. These were ***** waters. Soon rivers, took over the concrete. A rainforest of a jungle now. My tie chocked up my neck. Briefcase forced me to sink. My eyes soon were teased. I was stranded out at sea, or so it seemed. Until I crashed into an island. I soon found as a haven. Standing beneath the city clock. I waited patiently. Knowing I would never survive out there. Until, a beacon shined through all the grey. My skin froze. No, not from the rain. From the way this women looked at me. Hesitant yet amazed. Awe filled up inside her faster than it did in me. I blinked. Thought maybe I have finally gone insane. But no, this was happening. We both stood in place as if the hands of time broke down. Something kept the gears idle within the clock tower. We were drenched from the passing storm. Standing under this monument. We paused accepting the falling waters of the sky. Cowardly so, we never even spoke. Just admired. Simply and silently. Two statues stuck in a daze. Standing as skyscrapers amongst umbrellas. Looking into each other for a moment that lasted long beyond both our years. The water washed away our wear and tears. The city vanished. The storm ceased to be a bother. The fish faded into the ocean. It was just me and her. Shipwrecked. Stranded. Alone. Or so we thought before. Soon learned, our destinations were never meant to be. We fell in love. Swiftly and unexpectedly. The way the heavens intended. Grey clouds blew through us both and out came the sun. If not for this treacherous storm, I would have never met... her. - Nicholas A. McNutt
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Oh sorrowful song, As the chords they go—lifting minors And falling majors, flat to the eyes, D minor Of the saddest song:                     He sings with a choke of voice                     Smoke from the lungs, a smokers abyss                     His pipes are cold,                     Blackened in the airways of the exhaust                     Exhausted by the pleasures; only pleasurable at first. Oh where are the words The words to speak ill of another colour Must of been caught up in the smoke—in the years The years he said them marginalizing without remorse In it's race, sped into discriminating; on his own tracks Of how the world must only revolve around him His wife had shed a tear in her prayers, "Lord do a working in him"                    But his heart was made cold and hard                    A stone—paved by cement of his opinions concrete                    His racist abuse was made public, non discreet                    So how would he fit a colour of world being discrete? Oh the upbringing, hierarchy forced in eyes To follow a father's pride—a fitting bride He was unaware she wasn't hundred percent white And in the end, both father and son died alike Ironically chocked by the black smoke rewarding cancer inside                     _The sad life of the black smoke racist_🚬                         The son hopes not to follow his father's line of smoke.
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Sep 5, 2022
Sep 5, 2022 at 10:14 AM UTC
The black smoke racist 🚬
Oh sorrowful song, As the chords they go—lifting minors And falling majors, flat to the eyes, D minor Of the saddest song:                     He sings with a choke of voice                     Smoke from the lungs, a smokers abyss                     His pipes are cold,                     Blackened in the airways of the exhaust                     Exhausted by the pleasures; only pleasurable at first. Oh where are the words The words to speak ill of another colour Must of been caught up in the smoke—in the years The years he said them marginalizing without remorse In it's race, sped into discriminating; on his own tracks Of how the world must only revolve around him His wife had shed a tear in her prayers, "Lord do a working in him"                    But his heart was made cold and hard                    A stone—paved by cement of his opinions concrete                    His racist abuse was made public, non discreet                    So how would he fit a colour of world being discrete? Oh the upbringing, hierarchy forced in eyes To follow a father's pride—a fitting bride He was unaware she wasn't hundred percent white And in the end, both father and son died alike Ironically chocked by the black smoke rewarding cancer inside                     _The sad life of the black smoke racist_🚬                         The son hopes not to follow his father's line of smoke.
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