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Carley Aug 2014
Dear God
Strike me with
Lightning
Instead of love
Let electricity
Course through my veins
And seal them with
Kisses.
Then no fear
Pain
Or love
Can cut me open
And destroy me.
-CsR
Carley Aug 2014
You light up
Like a cigarette
I want to breathe you in
And have you burn my throat
To wiggle your way into my lungs
And rip them apart
Take my breath away
And replace it with smoke
Poison my body
With this cancer
Stain my teeth
And fingertips
A faint yellow
So I can remember the sun
And forget about my maroon veins
That run sideways
Like the horizon
On the vertical roads
Of my arms and legs.*
-CsR
Carley Sep 2013
This is it.
The end of us.
We can't ever be.
I realize that now.
We were built for night and now it is the breaking of day.
I love you.
I'm sorry.
I'd do anything to delay this terrible
Horrible
Terrifying
Heartbreaking
Beautiful
Sunrise.
-Cs­R
Carley Jul 2014
Call me
old fashioned
But knives are for
cutting boards
And exposed thighs are for
Self-loathing
******.
-CsR
This isn't meant to be offensive to anyone.
Jeremy Romio Feb 2012
CSR
My head throbs hard with every heart beat,

Pumping with pressure as I fear defeat.

The pain starts to numb as the moments progress,

My mind rests in silence though severely distressed.

The warzone around forces its cry for battle,

As my weakening body prepares its death rattle.

My arms grow heavy as my legs both tire,

I struggle to stand steady as I slowly expire.

Everyday I'm here, every day's the same,

Everyday it feels like I'm playing a game.

An unfair fight where swords bare no power,

Where an extra life is sour and a moment's an hour.

Another barrage prepares to attack,

Bringing in their gear and cutting no slack.

Choking on my aspirin as my teeth begin to grind,

I clear my throat and say, "next customer in line."
Carley Aug 2014
Choose me, Use me
I love the way you
Bruise me.

Shake me, Wake me
I love the way you
Break me.

See me, Squeeze me
But dear god
Don't you dare
Leave me.

I breathe you
I need you
I can't survive without you.
Kiss me, Hit me
But never ever
Miss me.

Choose me, Use me*
I love the way you
Abuse me.*
-CsR
Carley Jul 2014
And then I realized
That we cut ourselves open
Not to release the pain
But to release the beauty
The beauty that we can't see in ourselves
So we go looking deep inside
Seeking happiness
Yet all we find is that we are blind
We cannot see the beauty
Without the looking glass
That we all assume someone else has
But alas
People all around us have pieces
Some return their share
Having taken good care of it
But others don't return it at all
Thus the hollowness we feel
And the need to go searching
What we don't know
Is that the people who care
Will give you pieces of theirs
And in turn
Create an impenetrable bond of love
And trust
That when they need it most
You will do as they have done
And help them see the beauty they have been blind to.*
-CsR
Carley Jul 2014
Cheers to us
The sad and lonely
Drinking beers
At a truck stop
Cheers to us
The broke and broken
Shooting white powder
Into our veins
Cheers to us*
The sick and disturbed
Cutting our bodies open
To find liquid rubies
That makes the pain
Stop.
-CsR
Carley Aug 2014
And she put
Dandelions
In her hair
Instead of daisies
Because there is nothing
More pure
Than a beautiful blossom
Reaped
From horrid imperfections.  
-CsR
Carley Aug 2014
And after you told me I wasn't as beautiful
I was terrified
All I saw in the mirror was a monster
A horribly ugly monster
I couldn't let anyone love me
I couldn't let myself feel beautiful
Because you,
The one I was ready to give everything to,
Didn't want me anymore.
So I hid
And old habits came back with vengeance.
-CsR
Carley Jul 2014
You came into the bathroom
And took the blade from my hands
You left me in shock
And returned with the
Mickey Mouse band aids
And a box of tissues.
You turned on the faucet
And as the water turned red
You just stared at me
You bandaged me up
And you stared again
Until I started telling you
The whole story
And when I was done
You just stared
And then you did something extraordinary.
You started to cry.
-CsR
Carley Aug 2014
Dear friend,
You are somewhat new
But I already like this
This feeling of being normal
This feeling of being happy
These are the feelings you bring.
I take your things because
They are small reminders
Of what it's like to be content
And unfortunately
I fear that one day
I'll fall in love
But I know that you'll
Help me up
Disinfect my cuts
Bandage my broken body
And send me on my way
Until then,
*Love always
CsR
Fortunately, I never fell in love with him.
CSR
Pictures,
Some of us knows it paints a single word,
Perception,
A creation,
Of an illusion.

~*RSD
On certain Corporate Social Responsibility.
Carley Aug 2014
And
just
as
your
eyes
were
blurred
by
your
judgement

t­he
lights
were
blurred
by
my
tears

and
the
true
beaut­y
of
us
both
was
never
to
be
heard
of
again.

-CsR
Carley Sep 2013
I've fallen in love with those green eyes
I could spend hours wandering through them
Dark, with flecks of gold and brown
Those green eyes like a forest
Sunlight breaking through the branches
Hitting the leaves to show their brilliance
Showering the trunks to show their softness
Those eyes show me everything
Your past, present, and future
All of the love and happiness
Pain and sadness
They used to watch me, curious and caring
But now they've moved on and as they do
I'll always remember
Those gorgeous green eyes.
-CsR
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2016
my linguistic observations were not written onto a blank canvas,
they arose from a backdrop that suggested political apathy,
and language games: my observations
came about not from observing
the necessity of what was suggested,
my observations didn't come
from omission - by was to consider
mathematical acute and macron
sense of what's to be punctuated
in addition, or stressed multiplication -
it didn't arise from omitting something,
it actually came about from
the futility of the leisurely fragrance
of language that politics could abuse
and leave many politically apathetic -
similarities with mathematics:
whenever the arithmetic cauldron
reached out-of-proportion counting methods
to value things -
same with these 26x nth term variations -
(nth term? the easiest allocation,
globalisation: ask a Croat of a Slovene
and i wonder if a Californian
might regard a Nebraskan in the same way) -
no, my observations came by way of
antidote: i looked at language and thought:
they're wasting it...
                  what with language entertainment:
crosswords and anagrams -
               i never understood why poetry
became obsolete by some noble pursuit
akin to philosophy... it didn't...
philosophy, pure philosophy didn't undermine
poetry, offshoots of philosophy: logic
games bedded the goodbye of emotion,
we're great at self-preserving emotions bound
to anagrams and crosswords,
   but cross love and hate together
  you get:                       h
                                        a
                     ­                   t
                 l       o      v     e...
                                                      philos­ophy is
at some points poetry, when there's a new crossword,
when there's a game of anagrams -
well, it write a new poem every day,
because people rarely acknowledge their everyday
apathy, they think they're without pathology,
and in a sense, they're without pathology,
their only pathology is finalised with
a connectivity of emotions, the paradoxical
unity of chiral emotions, a chance of opposites
solidified within the opposites of man, and woman -
when we speak of man, we tend to speak
primarily of femininity -
            and when we tend to speak to woman,
we tend to speak primarily of masculinity -
   the noun with the opposite-effect adjective -
but as sure as i am: it's a tightrope experience,
https://www.google.co.uk/searchsclient=psyab&biw;=1600&bih;=775orld+trade+towers+tightrope&oq;=world+trade+towers+tightrope&g;_lp..r_cp.&bv;;=bv.132479545,bs.1d24&ech;=1ψ=kOjZV5HjNckUqoiegM.1473898640411.14&ei;=UPTZ_IOKAbinangBw&emsg;=CSR&noj;=1 - is unreachable raph.co.uk/film/thewalk/philippepetitworldtradecentr/
Philippe Petit's expertise would do just now,
but on the confusing subjective deviation scope,
not minding the objective facts - two buildings,
one rope, one man... oh there's logic in subjectivity:
you just have to revise the objects surrounding the
feat - it's not exactly a United Nation's translation...
something has to uptake a poetic feeding,
and some has to be discarded...
   crosswords are philosophy's version of a poem...
i'm pretty **** at them... which spurns me to
write a poem, i'm with the Japanese squares -
as always, an optical consideration to allow variation...
but a poet usually wakes up when he sees
what others have done with language:
   crosswords are thesauruses in disguise -
      the hint is aligned to a thesaurus, more than
a dictionary - there isn't a care for
                       your vocabulary,
given that philosophers systematise and therefore
   acknowledge a need to curb a chance vocabulary
deviation as: in addition to... it never happens...
     but when did poetry become so discredited
form of entertainment in the use of language,
averting poetry as not music is wrong -
              poetry was replaced by crosswords and
the play on anagrams... music was wrongly attributed
to poetry by philosophy - it was a double blow -
a secondary **** - poetry was never music,
                    it was never about hitting rhymes:
Tenacious D's one note song and the clinically
   real:                              hate
                         ­                ate
                                         late - same ****, different cover.
imagine an onomatopoeia orchestra: doors, knock knock,
        sand in hands: the sounding of mortality,
whatever...                             can you see this
****** attack? i know Nietzsche's poetry was pish-poor,
but his maxims stand out for me to provide the
necessary reflex - philosophy attacked poetry,
the thespian art took over, the monologue is a holy
grail: a monologue that is free from narrator -
narrator exclusive - spontaneously: here! there!
nowhere! omnipresent!
                                          the pleasure from poetry
is in every household, not the poncy pretentious
households of frail households,
  your grandma is doing it already,
she's doing the crossword, she's not raising an emotion,
a gamble, she's a sterile duck, doing a crossword
rather than reading a poem -
                            and the philosophers?
the Shiva-disciples? before another art-form is attacked
they'll make money from being critical of films...
    to be honest, they'll have a hard time attacking music...
they can be great film critics... but in terms of music?
  well... the original confrontation with poetry
has made them impotent in this field... music is pure emotion...
including all the cheese entanglements -
however cheap an emotion might be (cheap: pop,
appealing to the universal attainment, shy, hidden,
the standard base of later improvements / idiosyncrasy) -
they can't attack music, it's double jeopardy -
given that poetry is deemed akin to music...
although caveman orchestra: man and his echo -
philosophy can't attack music, Plato's cave and the movies
beckons them... try once more,
                         and here comes the spectacular!
Carley Nov 2013
You're a good liar.
Really you are.
You act like you care,
Like I am actually important to you,
But there are flaws in your pathetic calumny.
I can see the way you watch other girls,
The way you want them.
I can hear the slander you tell your friends,
The way you degrade me to impress them.
I can smell the alcohol on your breath,
The perfume of the great time you had without me.
I can feel your hands slipping from my waist,
And up the bottom of her shirt.
I can taste someone else's cherry lip balm,
The deceitful words you've repeated to a hundred girls before me.
But you insist it's all stupid rumors.
You claim they're all lies and slander.
But I know.
I've always known.
And I'm done.
-CsR
I wasn't cheated on.
Carley Jan 2015
Suddenly I felt like what
I would imagine an infant would
I am helpless
But when I cry
He comforts me
When I sleep
He admires me
When I laugh
His heart swells with joy
I am helpless
But he won't let anything happen to me.
CsR
Carley Aug 2014
And people stare
At you in your band tees
And me in my polka dots
And they say
How could they be happy
They don't realize
That when you leave
I spend the night in that tee
And listen to that band
And I remember
How you smelled
How you smiled
How you sang
And ran
And kissed me the day
I fell in love with you.
-CsR
Carley Aug 2014
You shot me in the stomach
And not the head.
I thought you'd try to
**** my wishful thoughts,
But you saved me from
The butterflies instead.
-CsR
Carley Aug 2014
Drip drip drip
Goes the IV
Into my arm and
Into my brain

Drip drip drip
Goes my eyes
Salt water streaks
And my ears ring

Drip drip drip
Goes the wrists
Blades colored red
And slits bleeding sadness

Drip drip drip
Goes my heart
Screaming profanity
While being ripped open.

Drip drip drip
Goes the sky
Pieces polluting the ocean

As my world falls apart.*
-CsR
Carley Oct 2013
I stare out of my window to see the beach
The waves crashing on the shore
The sun reflecting off of the beautiful blue monster
Ominous grey clouds appear
A storm is arising
The leaves are whispering in the wind
They anchor themselves onto their vigilant branches
The incandescence and evanescence of it all is intoxicating
The waves rasping
The wind bellowing
The leaves screaming and
The skies crying out in laceration
I can't stop staring
It comes closer
And closer
And closer
I wake up with a start
I look over and see you sleeping
So worn yet so serene
The storm is hidden and I should be glad
But I can't wait to be submerged in it again
To drown in the storm that is you.
-CsR
Carley Aug 2014
I forgive you
For breaking my heart
I forgive you
For breaking my trust
I forgive you
For all of your wrongdoings
I forgive you* when I shouldn't
Because I love you
I need you
Like I need air
So I forgive you
Just please
Please**
Stop suffocating me.
-CsR
Carley Aug 2014
All us teens live for
Is crazy Friday nights
Filled with drunken confessions
And flashing lights
Swingin records

And fights with our ex
Dancin, liquor
And mind boggling ***
-CsR
Carley Aug 2014
Thanks
For making me feel normal again
For talking to me about music
Instead of voices
About movies
Instead of nightmares
About friends
Instead of demons
About books
Instead of the insults
Etched on my hips
And the screams
On my lips
Thanks for
Helping me remember
The good times
And happy rhymes
I owe you one.
Because without you
As my oil
This machine
Couldn't run.
-CsR
This was for a friend but we aren't very close anymore. Regardless, he really knew how to make me feel better and without trying he made me feel normal and happy and for that I am forever indebted to him.
Carley Sep 2013
Lost within you
Your hair golden like the sun.
I'm lost in the sky during the noon day hour
Your eyes, green like a forest
I'm lost wandering through this maze
Your smile, white like snow
I'm lost in this blizzard, trapped inside your picket fence
Your touch, as warm as a clear summer evening
I'm lost within my own memories of childhood
My heart, filled with so much emotion
I'm lost within my own feelings
How did you do this?
I barely know you
I once had such a clear path and now,
I'm just wandering around, lost.
-CsR
Joann Rolleston Jul 2014
A long week at work
Floorwalking to support
The new CSR's I've trained
Physical & brain drained
A hunk of meat
In a den of pitbulls
Waiting politely
Relentless not rude
Graciously I smile
You're welcome
A hundred times
Easy
Feeling the stare
Uneasy glare
Jo what do I do
I say if needed
Take a deep breathe
The customer will wait
If they want you to fix it
I must remember to say
What do you think
I need to step back
And not be automatic
I've said to a couple
You look like a
Stunned Mullet
You can do it
You got this
now Own it
Re-assuredly I say
Quickly to plan
Direction to help
And not totally do it
Praising the answer
Right on the button
Write this down
For any bits missing
I sneak in a break
Some lunch always late
9 hours of that
Plus 2 hours on the train
A lot for me
Now it makes sense
Why I almost
Fell off my seat... lol
i love my job i do, i'm a trainer and i'm good at it, i'm grateful to work with amazing people from all walks of life from all around the world.
Carley Jul 2014
I hate it when people say they’ve been down the same road
Because they haven’t
Or maybe they have
But not in the same light
Not at the same time
Not as I traveled down that road did anyone accompany me.
I was alone.
No one knows how I saw it how it felt.
You’ve gone done that road during dusk.
Dusk. When all of the secrets slowly start to creep out.
I went at midnight. All of those secrets wide awake. Haunting and taunting.
Eating me alive.
She went at dawn.
Dawn. As the mask starts to come out, but the secrets have yet to disappear completely.
He went at noon.  The mask was now out. But there are cracks. Imperfections.
Places that not even the mask can hide away the secrets.
We all are so eager to tell one another about “that road”.
We’ve all “been down that road”, and want to tell our story.
But we mustn’t. Because there are people out there who need us more than we need ourselves.
People who have nothing and no one. Not a soul, a breath, a sliver of hope.
So yes.
We’ve all been down that road.
But that road wasn’t the same for any of us.
And it never will be.
-CsR
This was written for the loved ones of a girl who died. It was written so that people know that telling someone your experience and how you dealt with it isn't always going to help. You have to just shut up and listen.
Car
Sitting in the csr alone, staring at an empty space 
Wondering where did I go wrong 
To cause the anger in ur face
How did love that was so strong 
Turn to bitterness and hate? 
Is it me? 
Is it me? 
Am I so beyond redemption?
Have I ****** my whole life up?
Will I ever find some peace?

— The End —