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"damnation" poems
ignore all possible concepts and possibilities --- ignore Beethoven, the spider, the damnation of Faust --- just make it, babe, make it: a house a car a belly full of beans pay your taxes **** and if you can't **** copulate. make money but don't work too hard --- make somebody else pay to make it --- and don't smoke too much but drink enough to relax, and stay off the streets wipe your *** real good use a lot of toilet paper it's bad manners to let people know you **** or could smell like it if you weren't careful
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80k
making it
Oh why am I still hurting Isn't it past the hour of pain? Hell is only temporary Til He rids you of all shame! I stepped into Your room Try to relive Your relieving To rid me of my gloom Try to receive Your revealing Jealous the jealous God I seek restless for Your love Mine eyes grow tired and weary Jealous the jealous God Jealous the jealous God I drown helpless in Your flood I thirst scarcely for Your mercy Jealous the jealous God Why is the world so empty Yet weighs millions o' pounds? Where lies pile up aplenty To keep the lost from being found Why is deception Like form of education Setting false foundations Corrupting His creation As lies disguise damnation For a paper-clad salvation Sending ill vibrations To the youth of all the nations I wonder how much am I missing, o God? A wonder even the universe cannot contain Translated and made compatible in a human's brain. Soulless animals kiss the land In honor of the One Who was, who is and is to come Who dares their doubt expand In disbelief blot out the sun Jealous the jealous God Soulless animals indeed we have become
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May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 11:03 AM UTC
Jealous the jealous God
Precarious Life Migration in the Age of Globalization Various Strife Cessation in the wage of translation Starvation in our under age narration Is opportunity worth the cost Bifurcation of our to be nations Will we make it across Vicariously rife Location of our permanent vacation Hilarious fife Hesitation in the living wage stagnation Resignation of our own home nation Will anything become lost Frustration in this age of relocation Will we make it across Gregarious life Migration in the age of inflation Precarious Life Stagflation been gauged with low expectations Automation when we enrage damnation It shall be worth the cost Fixation on a whole new acclimation Will we make it across
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Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 2:46 PM UTC
2. Ballade
Oh, how dark our history is You, my author of misery and pain With fingers set to scribble my demise This is our story, writ with chaotic pen One that left calamity in its wake You would always start the chapter Every page inked with words of black On the point of a pen, you'd viciously write Using the sharp edge to stab into my being Scripting, deeply, my eternal damnation You erased my name and made me delusional Always forcing me to your divine will For the pen, always mightier than the sword Was kept toward the edge of my neck Swearing to strike at any given moment Always determined, I'd end our sentences Fighting to gain balance and bear the final period Yet it was not without consequences For you and I were wrought with scars Etched into the bottom of our hearts, a burning black If only these words painted a happy picture But the thousand only paint a picture of pain A dreary battle between two broken forces On timeworn pages, brittle-ing on and on Begging for the piece that holds our final chapter And that chapter swiftly came for I was the ending Leaving in the night, gone without a trace With no words or ink left as a guiding clue Carefully escaping from your paper prison Free from the agony of the writer's press On that day, I began my life again Starting a happy story; free, original, and new A home of letters filled with love, life, and joy Where I'd never dare see you again, my dear, dear author And never bleed black from your miserable weapon
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May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 10:22 AM UTC
Novel of Black
Oh, how dark our history is You, my author of misery and pain With fingers set to scribble my demise This is our story, writ with chaotic pen One that left calamity in its wake You would always start the chapter Every page inked with words of black On the point of a pen, you'd viciously write Using the sharp edge to stab into my being Scripting, deeply, my eternal damnation You erased my name and made me delusional Always forcing me to your divine will For the pen, always mightier than the sword Was kept toward the edge of my neck Swearing to strike at any given moment Always determined, I'd end our sentences Fighting to gain balance and bear the final period Yet it was not without consequences For you and I were wrought with scars Etched into the bottom of our hearts, a burning black If only these words painted a happy picture But the thousand only paint a picture of pain A dreary battle between two broken forces On timeworn pages, brittle-ing on and on Begging for the piece that holds our final chapter And that chapter swiftly came for I was the ending Leaving in the night, gone without a trace With no words or ink left as a guiding clue Carefully escaping from your paper prison Free from the agony of the writer's press On that day, I began my life again Starting a happy story; free, original, and new A home of letters filled with love, life, and joy Where I'd never dare see you again, my dear, dear author And never bleed black from your miserable weapon
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35
He began with all living things On the first day of anti-creation Killing all; be they beggars or kings No judgment just pure negation On the second day lights went out There was no longer night nor day Only darkness was present throughout Not a shadow not a tinge of grey All this darkness destroyed vegetation Photosynthesis ceased to take place Everything was beyond devastation Gasping and lacking in grace The fourth day destroyed solid ground He made sure every rock all the stones Would sink and not ever be found No one would ever unearth old bones On the fifth day the clouds were unmade Rain reunited the sea with the sky In a marvelously heavy cascade So the second last day went by On the last day he reversed creation Of Heaven and Earth in one blow It was much easier than damnation And God sat there and enjoyed the show.
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Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 10:27 AM UTC
Reverse Creation
If i told you i needed help would you listen? Or would your silence Echo off the walls. See my life is like a car, Sometimes moving fast And other times so **** slow. If i told you i feel hurt inside would you not just hear but listen to what i said I need someone to care. Im tired of trying to fight alone. Im tired of trying to survive at a table for one. If i told you I cry all over my body And each tear is a knife And they are leaving scars on my flesh, Would you cut me a bandage, Sop up my blood, Or leave me to bleed out. If i told you I was alone and my demons are taunting me would you get me out Or would you keep walking or keep scrolling... Im not begging for attention, But one cannot be expected to be alone and silent like a life long detention. If i told you I was ready to confess everything Come clean from my secrets, Strip myself naked so you could see my imperfections would you care even the slightest bit Or are you so selfish And so ignorant To walk on And leave this person to die. If i told you i was ready to die *would you blame it in cliche, Or believe it and save me from damnation* Its time to think. It could be up to you This isnt just my world, Its yours, too and dont you want to be somebody To someone? I need you. Because all of these "if i told you's* Are becoming *im telling you
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Aug 10, 2016
Aug 10, 2016 at 8:23 PM UTC
If i told you (please read)
The GOOD NEWS that God has done for us what we could NEVER do for ourselves by sending His own Son to become a man, Christ Jesus, to live a perfectly righteous life in complete fulfillment of God’s holy law and to die for our sins on the cross as our substitutionary sacrifice (“the righteous for the unrighteous”), bearing and satisfying the just wrath of God deserved by us ALL   (for against Him our hearts are each naturally and treasonously rebellious), and resurrecting Him from the dead so that THROUGH FAITH IN JESUS we can be saved from the penalty of our sinful rebellion (eternal damnation and separation from the grace of God) and saved from the power of our sinful rebellion to instead live a NEW LIFE in intimate relationship with Him, surrendered now to Him, with all of our sins forgiven, covered with His own perfect righteousness because of His complete and finished work for which we who believe receive a full credit, and therefore (by grace alone) in perfect standing and unchanging acceptance before God in His holiness, at peace with the Father wholly, indwelt and empowered by God's Spirit to live for Him and His glory and His kingdom, now and eternally.
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Dec 2, 2018
Dec 2, 2018 at 10:38 AM UTC
What is the Gospel?
You changed the colors of your hair We don't care You got an A on your test We don't care You got a new car We don't care You recieved a promotion We don't care You ate at that new resturaunt We don't care You bought new dress to flaunt We don't care Children are starving Madmen are are carving Up women they grabbed of the streets Say goodbye to our heartbeats Soldiers are dying Innocent people are crying we can try to fight starvation But we are headed to damnation but you don't care It has nothing to do with you just keep breathing your clean air You have more important things to do
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Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 12:19 PM UTC
we don't care
Lord, I need some devine redemption Because I move like a heathen through the night Depart some solemn words of wisdom Deliver your blessed sacred rite My god your wrath is so sweet I am consumed by it's salvation Let me offer myself to you And save myself from your damnation My wickedness will have me burned I make a covenant to you from this day forth Enter me and make me clean Fill me with your righteous seed Command me down on my knees I'm praying with my mouth to please I offer myself as your possession To use whenever at your discretion
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Dec 30, 2016
Dec 30, 2016 at 5:55 PM UTC
Devine Redemption
My lavender is burnt and loveless; Painful, devoured and helpless, Weak by the side of its dying corpse; Solitary yet at an age so young. My lavender cries in its daydreams; Giggles in sorrowful screams, And faints and dies beneath fun daylight; As though tortured and wounded by the sun. My lavender wriggles in isolation; Like those ragged clothes in damnation And there's no more death between heaven and hell-- For none is alive, nor breathes to live. My lavender longs not to drink nor die; But it sleeps by the hushed setting moon, Trapped behind the tail of his lethal winds; Blinded by too many mysteries, unseen. My lavender peels its own skinny bones; Its quaint lust cut and fiercely torn, Teased by the cold trees of summertime; Faded by the sweet whispers of time. My lavender eats its own bloodless veins; And its hateful friendless world, Having laughed at anonymous walls Marveled at unspoken poems. My lavender drinks of its own soul; And to love now is but to have none, With her autumn love stolen by fate; All her gripping sonnets are far too late.
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Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 12:02 PM UTC
My Lavender
he said/begged, make love to me just like a woman! kiss me toe to head, linger on my neck, trace my waist, begin at my lips, pause at my hips, quibbles intersperse, quips and licks on eyelids, nibble me, near me, close and closer yet unto the glorious victorious near death experience... whisper me sweet everythings before during after and over again, when you must pause to exhale, blow all their warmth upon thy fingers and bring that warmth inside Columbus me with tongue and eyes, take me slow then again, even slower, for thy pleasure, than execute summary judgement upon me falsely accept, then deny, deny, deny my every appeal to oh my god for anyone's mercy! adjudge me then guilty yet again, and to the tower take me to drown in mine own lashing lamentations, thy incontrovertible evidence, mine own uncensored revelations execute me twice, slowly, goodly with lengthy and lovely measures *she said,  and so I shall, eventually, do what you beseech, what you most excellently seek but you may recall, somewhat earlier, I called out shotgun so you must start my dear by following all the precise driving instructions you just stated, and bring your GPS^, and, oh yes, I'm waiting...* too wit and sod this! he gruffingly huffingly, hurrumphingly, replied, *all hell and damnation, treat me like a woman just once pity-please!" *can't can't can't - she be-witchingly cackled! then sang to me the lyrical words of a Nobel Prize winner!* "***You fake just like a woman Yes you do, you make love like a woman Yes you do, and then you ache just like a woman But you break just like a little boy**"
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Sep 27, 2017
Sep 27, 2017 at 6:09 PM UTC
he said/begged, make love to me just like a woman
he said/begged, make love to me just like a woman! kiss me toe to head, linger on my neck, trace my waist, begin at my lips, pause at my hips, quibbles intersperse, quips and licks on eyelids, nibble me, near me, close and closer yet unto the glorious victorious near death experience... whisper me sweet everythings before during after and over again, when you must pause to exhale, blow all their warmth upon thy fingers and bring that warmth inside Columbus me with tongue and eyes, take me slow then again, even slower, for thy pleasure, than execute summary judgement upon me falsely accept, then deny, deny, deny my every appeal to oh my god for anyone's mercy! adjudge me then guilty yet again, and to the tower take me to drown in mine own lashing lamentations, thy incontrovertible evidence, mine own uncensored revelations execute me twice, slowly, goodly with lengthy and lovely measures *she said,  and so I shall, eventually, do what you beseech, what you most excellently seek but you may recall, somewhat earlier, I called out shotgun so you must start my dear by following all the precise driving instructions you just stated, and bring your GPS^, and, oh yes, I'm waiting...* too wit and sod this! he gruffingly huffingly, hurrumphingly, replied, *all hell and damnation, treat me like a woman just once pity-please!" *can't can't can't - she be-witchingly cackled! then sang to me the lyrical words of a Nobel Prize winner!* "***You fake just like a woman Yes you do, you make love like a woman Yes you do, and then you ache just like a woman But you break just like a little boy**"
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47
Dear diabolic debutante / Spawn of the unfathomable abyss of blackness / Daughter of dreadful dead desire / Black-shrouded sinister sister of celestial gloom before whose imperious gaze the heavens fall silent / Whip-lash girl-child of the graves whose pallid visage kindles the myriad infernal fires / Autocratic vampiress of lunar doom whose winding-cloth enfolds the thousand horrors of blood-drenched nightmare / Thou that wanderest the cypress-crested hills of funereal necropolises / Whose icy glance cracks the ungraven tombstones of utter desolation / Empress of night and madness / Who stalks the locked and shadowed hallways of unhallowed thought / Whose burial-boat glides the still waters over Lethe’s silent depths to the unglimpsed isle of eternal mourning / Whose parapets tower above the fiefdoms of quotidian banality / Whose flying buttresses overlook the Stygian waters of the forgotten drowned denizens of damnation / Whose unshackled dungeons open to worlds of regal splendor / Whose spires pierce dark skies where oblivion buries the ruined cities of revelry under the drifting clouds of leaden time / Oh maiden of melancholic alchemy whose petrified passions transmute base metal into pure gold… May the gibbous moon of equinox shine its baleful eye upon you; may you tread in sacramental calm the winding starlit paths of somnolent cemeteries; may my unmixed metaphors unveil in delirium their parabolic mysteries before the smoldering altar of your uninterpretable allegory; may the favor of your scorn forever lay me out, embalmed, undead, on the cold stone of merciless reality. Behold: in cryptic script of spectral apparition, in tracery of coded illumination, amidst the dawning rays of torment I write thine unknown name on the threshold of daylight. And from within the mortared wall of self I speak forth from my sepulcher the Sibylline utterance, unsought, unheard, undreamt: JUST WANTED TO SAY ‘HI’ !
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Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 9:15 PM UTC
Ω Gothic Postcard Ω
Dear diabolic debutante / Spawn of the unfathomable abyss of blackness / Daughter of dreadful dead desire / Black-shrouded sinister sister of celestial gloom before whose imperious gaze the heavens fall silent / Whip-lash girl-child of the graves whose pallid visage kindles the myriad infernal fires / Autocratic vampiress of lunar doom whose winding-cloth enfolds the thousand horrors of blood-drenched nightmare / Thou that wanderest the cypress-crested hills of funereal necropolises / Whose icy glance cracks the ungraven tombstones of utter desolation / Empress of night and madness / Who stalks the locked and shadowed hallways of unhallowed thought / Whose burial-boat glides the still waters over Lethe’s silent depths to the unglimpsed isle of eternal mourning / Whose parapets tower above the fiefdoms of quotidian banality / Whose flying buttresses overlook the Stygian waters of the forgotten drowned denizens of damnation / Whose unshackled dungeons open to worlds of regal splendor / Whose spires pierce dark skies where oblivion buries the ruined cities of revelry under the drifting clouds of leaden time / Oh maiden of melancholic alchemy whose petrified passions transmute base metal into pure gold… May the gibbous moon of equinox shine its baleful eye upon you; may you tread in sacramental calm the winding starlit paths of somnolent cemeteries; may my unmixed metaphors unveil in delirium their parabolic mysteries before the smoldering altar of your uninterpretable allegory; may the favor of your scorn forever lay me out, embalmed, undead, on the cold stone of merciless reality. Behold: in cryptic script of spectral apparition, in tracery of coded illumination, amidst the dawning rays of torment I write thine unknown name on the threshold of daylight. And from within the mortared wall of self I speak forth from my sepulcher the Sibylline utterance, unsought, unheard, undreamt: JUST WANTED TO SAY ‘HI’ !
Continue reading...
5
This generation is the selfie nation, Taking pictures of the dying, digitization, This generation is the generic nation, Cancelling history and subjects, Salvation, This generation is the death nation, Being overweight is healthy, becoming purgation, This generation is the stronger nation, Deeming everything offensive, becoming manipulation, This generation is the hateful nation, Hating the own agnations, This gerenation is the end nation, Pushing and pushing, damnation, This generation is the promoting nation, Gender Swap, *** paedophilia, pushing all these, Arbitration. This genernation is the activism nation, Save the Earth, making change that still damages the Earth, ruination. This generation is the we won't do this nation, Won't go to war to fight for others, pure negation, This generation is the nation, The eldery generation regrets fighting for their foundation, This generation is the Anti-Homosexuality nation, That still disowns there child for there sexuaility, Affirmation, This generation who is fighting LGBTQ Rights Nation, Hating those who refuse to date the same *** hating religion, so **** condamnation. This generation scream Black Lives Matter Nation, Reducing Police Brutality, improving lot more crimes, congratulation, This generation fighting for women right nation, Taking away male rights, instead of alterations and collaborations. This generation is the older nation, Bullying, lies and caring nation, Allocation, This generation is the end nation, Death filtration of the world's creation. This generation buid this nation, They have to learn to live with the cermation.
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Nov 4, 2020
Nov 4, 2020 at 10:11 AM UTC
This Generation
This generation is the selfie nation, Taking pictures of the dying, digitization, This generation is the generic nation, Cancelling history and subjects, Salvation, This generation is the death nation, Being overweight is healthy, becoming purgation, This generation is the stronger nation, Deeming everything offensive, becoming manipulation, This generation is the hateful nation, Hating the own agnations, This gerenation is the end nation, Pushing and pushing, damnation, This generation is the promoting nation, Gender Swap, *** paedophilia, pushing all these, Arbitration. This genernation is the activism nation, Save the Earth, making change that still damages the Earth, ruination. This generation is the we won't do this nation, Won't go to war to fight for others, pure negation, This generation is the nation, The eldery generation regrets fighting for their foundation, This generation is the Anti-Homosexuality nation, That still disowns there child for there sexuaility, Affirmation, This generation who is fighting LGBTQ Rights Nation, Hating those who refuse to date the same *** hating religion, so **** condamnation. This generation scream Black Lives Matter Nation, Reducing Police Brutality, improving lot more crimes, congratulation, This generation fighting for women right nation, Taking away male rights, instead of alterations and collaborations. This generation is the older nation, Bullying, lies and caring nation, Allocation, This generation is the end nation, Death filtration of the world's creation. This generation buid this nation, They have to learn to live with the cermation.
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34
Corny Hornbutt went to town, looking for relations ran right into Celibut, who flees from fornication. ***** cornbutt, keep it up leader of the nation make the ladies loose their lunch and squirm with indignation! Corny went to fellowship to woo his lovely Celi mortified was Celibut, who punched him in the belly. Corny Hornbutt, keep it up leader of the nation make the ladies loose their lunch and squirm with indignation! Corny saw his life flash by and knew the end was nearing asked for pardon from his sin, as hell-fire he was fearing. Corny Hornbutt, keep it up leader of the nation make the ladies loose their lunch and squirm with indignation! Corny saw his wretched ways and in this revelation The Lord Almighty heard his cry and saved him from damnation. Corny Hornbutt, keep it up leader of the nation Reached for Love, received the Grace was made a new creation! Corny Hornbutt was renewed and now he's Pastor Corny Celi married Hornibutt and named their first-born Forny. Corny Hornbutt, keep it up lead us from dam-nation Help the ladies serve the lunch to all the congregation!
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Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 11:34 AM UTC
Corny Hornbutt
The greatest challenge my nature presents: Love is harder to find Hate is easier to find Within myself and others Is rejection different for me? Everybody seems to know the pain of being unwanted And idle threats and empty words are no stranger to rejection But when you say you'll **** me if you ever see me again The intention is clear The existence of my attraction Is grotesque beyond redemption I thought I loved you... When appreciation comes my way It's superficiality amuses me Because I know all that needs to happen Is breaking down the wall to my mind Or unlocking the door to my heart And those appreciators will transform into detractors Especially if the hideous leviathan approaches their vessel Not finding women gross frustrates me Because I have no reference point For why people hate me so much Which provides a reference point For why I hate myself so much It's difficult not to be dominated by this damnation But there's no way people could understand The daily subtle nuances Why should they? I don't constantly consider their lives either Even if someone tried to comprehend my life I'm not sure it's possible I've been here the whole time and I'm still massively perplexed I display my emotions Disgust I shroud my emotions Indifference I **** my emotions Hatred Is there no escape? Even with sanctuaries along the way Life feels like Everybody swims in the ocean While I'm resigned to my lonely oasis Is it possible to feel more alone than completely alone? Like a cockroach consigned to living under the refrigerator It gets so cold and dark down here I forage for crumbs only at night Mortally afraid of human contact For I know that the boot follows the light And why not? In a world where our priorities obstruct our compassion How much consideration should a real human show to a lowly maggot like me When they have to worry about paying the exterminator?
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Jun 25, 2017
Jun 25, 2017 at 4:16 AM UTC
Loneliness
The greatest challenge my nature presents: Love is harder to find Hate is easier to find Within myself and others Is rejection different for me? Everybody seems to know the pain of being unwanted And idle threats and empty words are no stranger to rejection But when you say you'll **** me if you ever see me again The intention is clear The existence of my attraction Is grotesque beyond redemption I thought I loved you... When appreciation comes my way It's superficiality amuses me Because I know all that needs to happen Is breaking down the wall to my mind Or unlocking the door to my heart And those appreciators will transform into detractors Especially if the hideous leviathan approaches their vessel Not finding women gross frustrates me Because I have no reference point For why people hate me so much Which provides a reference point For why I hate myself so much It's difficult not to be dominated by this damnation But there's no way people could understand The daily subtle nuances Why should they? I don't constantly consider their lives either Even if someone tried to comprehend my life I'm not sure it's possible I've been here the whole time and I'm still massively perplexed I display my emotions Disgust I shroud my emotions Indifference I **** my emotions Hatred Is there no escape? Even with sanctuaries along the way Life feels like Everybody swims in the ocean While I'm resigned to my lonely oasis Is it possible to feel more alone than completely alone? Like a cockroach consigned to living under the refrigerator It gets so cold and dark down here I forage for crumbs only at night Mortally afraid of human contact For I know that the boot follows the light And why not? In a world where our priorities obstruct our compassion How much consideration should a real human show to a lowly maggot like me When they have to worry about paying the exterminator?
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54
The roadside weeds that clutter my hometown, tangled skinny stems and yellow flowers. Sing oh reverence, glory come down to us, they sing, in daylight’s fading hours. I cannot stomp them out, I cannot press them in between the pages of my books. Flower after flower, stem by stem grow ugly. I can barely stand to look. The preacher, he had called the place salvation when telling us to where the high road led. But the stars all seem to spell damnation, and the moon, an eyeless, bloodless head. Tonight the roadside weeds sing mercy, mercy come for a homeward soul in need of thee.
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May 29, 2012
May 29, 2012 at 1:00 PM UTC
Hometown Sonnet
You loop the rope around my wrists, so delicately I almost forget this is supposed to thrill me. Your eyes glow barbaric but mine can't unlock from the braided cord just barely rubbing my skin. I never liked ropes in these kinds of situations, I never felt they were right kind of tempting. You see when you become part of the other you have to embrace it, Like a flaw, Only this one comes with a body count. The rough texture of the rope feels like hay, Like beard stubble pressed against your cheek in a high school classroom, Like broken strands of your now fried hair lying at the bottom of your shower drain. My wrists have a noose around them, But this is a suicide not a lynching. When his wife crawls into her bed at the end of the night, she won't smell my perfume, We never go to his room. I don't want to know what a marriage bed looks like. But you have to understand, This is my choice. I don't want him to love me, Nor do I think he ever will. He loves what I do to him, What I'll let him do to me, And that's as much of a connection as the both of us need. It always ends with me being called his ***** by a woman who doesn't know he's turned on by that word, But I never break them up. Either she doesn't leave, And if she does, We all 3 know this wasn't my doing. The rope snapped And its my skin that is left raw. Their tension will only make me bleed. Love will hurt you. Women like me are a catalyst, Not a damnation
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Jan 10, 2017
Jan 10, 2017 at 8:12 PM UTC
Others
injustice has become the affirmation. hesitation, passed down to each generation. oblivious to how this is a cause of our own transgression; through temptation. misleading us to our own damnation.
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Aug 4, 2018
Aug 4, 2018 at 4:52 PM UTC
active crime scene
I've lived the kind of pain they write about In the tales of heroes,                        who came and went without Salvation or celebration; and,       instead, became close friends of doubt. When luck leaves your side, And there's no one left watching . . .                There is no martyrdom. No heaven to fall from. No damnation.                 Just *nothing.                 Nothing and no one*. But I won't let myself succumb To the temptation              of self-righteous certainty,              false justifications, or              egotistical self-mutilation - Just to bleed on those who lay              Below my lowly elevation.                      Not like you.                      I am not made like you. No longer, will I distort my own view To lie to the few, who stand with me in the fire.                It's true.                I am a worthless piece of ****                and even I can hardly stand it                when I speak about myself. But this time . . . It's about more than me. And, for once, I'm going to spend well the wealth, That I was given and didn't earn, On those who showed me how to learn                And to never become like you. Yes - I am judgmental and self-loathing. I am selfish and I am wrong. I am naive, and strung out and strung along.                                 But I                                   am not made                                              like you.                                              I am strong.
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Feb 22, 2019
Feb 22, 2019 at 5:05 PM UTC
Self-Righteous Certainty and False Justifications
I've lived the kind of pain they write about In the tales of heroes,                        who came and went without Salvation or celebration; and,       instead, became close friends of doubt. When luck leaves your side, And there's no one left watching . . .                There is no martyrdom. No heaven to fall from. No damnation.                 Just *nothing.                 Nothing and no one*. But I won't let myself succumb To the temptation              of self-righteous certainty,              false justifications, or              egotistical self-mutilation - Just to bleed on those who lay              Below my lowly elevation.                      Not like you.                      I am not made like you. No longer, will I distort my own view To lie to the few, who stand with me in the fire.                It's true.                I am a worthless piece of ****                and even I can hardly stand it                when I speak about myself. But this time . . . It's about more than me. And, for once, I'm going to spend well the wealth, That I was given and didn't earn, On those who showed me how to learn                And to never become like you. Yes - I am judgmental and self-loathing. I am selfish and I am wrong. I am naive, and strung out and strung along.                                 But I                                   am not made                                              like you.                                              I am strong.
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40
Hyperventilation Depleting frustration Suffocation A painful sensation Desperation Without moderation Devastation Eternal damnation Deprivation Emotional mutilation Derealization Fear escalation Depersonalization Self extermination
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Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 1:16 PM UTC
Panic Attack
I wish I could travel back in time to meet my 13 year old self and tell that confused gorgeous child to run away. Run away, pretty girl run away from the boys that are trying to use your body Run away from that razor run away from that bottle of pills and do your best, use all of your will to stop that soul from aching without needing to bleed. You don't have to fix anyone. You just have to survive. Run away from that screaming in your head. Drown it out with poetry and music until you either lose your hearing or you lose yourself in sweet soul feeding spreading goodness Run away from your father until he learns how to love you. Run away from those girls until you are strong enough to realize that they're so wrong about you. Run away, gorgeous girl Run away from all the people that have hurt you Run away from all the people that want you to fix them Just take a deep breath and realize that you can't fix anyone but yourself Run away from the guy who can't commit to you Run away from that ****** up kid that wants to put his fingers inside you Run away from that girl that calls you fat Run away from your own ****** feelings You're just not old enough to deal with them yet No one should have to deal with that Not you, you gorgeous scared little thirteen year old. I think maybe, just maybe if I could tell her that that maybe I wouldn't feel so ****** up today. because no 13 year old knows how to deal with the things I faced when I was 13 years old. and no 20 year old woman knows how to fix the scars from a ****** up past, one that has damaged this skin, damaged that ability to trust, damaged damaged damaged ****** up that ability to let somebody in, damaged this heart so much that it's forgotten how to feel, turned off those feelings because they never lead to good things, damaged the part of me that knew how to be happy. damaged the part of me that had hope. damaged and ****** it all up beyond repair. Because I tried for years to keep my head above water only to realize that I drowned a long time ago and I think it might be too late to pull myself out of this black lake of self infliction and pain addiction and give myself a chance at living.
0
Mar 17, 2013
Mar 17, 2013 at 11:53 PM UTC
damaged damnation
I wish I could travel back in time to meet my 13 year old self and tell that confused gorgeous child to run away. Run away, pretty girl run away from the boys that are trying to use your body Run away from that razor run away from that bottle of pills and do your best, use all of your will to stop that soul from aching without needing to bleed. You don't have to fix anyone. You just have to survive. Run away from that screaming in your head. Drown it out with poetry and music until you either lose your hearing or you lose yourself in sweet soul feeding spreading goodness Run away from your father until he learns how to love you. Run away from those girls until you are strong enough to realize that they're so wrong about you. Run away, gorgeous girl Run away from all the people that have hurt you Run away from all the people that want you to fix them Just take a deep breath and realize that you can't fix anyone but yourself Run away from the guy who can't commit to you Run away from that ****** up kid that wants to put his fingers inside you Run away from that girl that calls you fat Run away from your own ****** feelings You're just not old enough to deal with them yet No one should have to deal with that Not you, you gorgeous scared little thirteen year old. I think maybe, just maybe if I could tell her that that maybe I wouldn't feel so ****** up today. because no 13 year old knows how to deal with the things I faced when I was 13 years old. and no 20 year old woman knows how to fix the scars from a ****** up past, one that has damaged this skin, damaged that ability to trust, damaged damaged damaged ****** up that ability to let somebody in, damaged this heart so much that it's forgotten how to feel, turned off those feelings because they never lead to good things, damaged the part of me that knew how to be happy. damaged the part of me that had hope. damaged and ****** it all up beyond repair. Because I tried for years to keep my head above water only to realize that I drowned a long time ago and I think it might be too late to pull myself out of this black lake of self infliction and pain addiction and give myself a chance at living.
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73
this game has no rules wikipedia is full of it z-list celebrity remember that nobody cares except you this statement is a statement this statement exists this statement has letters poets just want to jump in sighs about the decrepit state of humanity thanks to those who make it worthwhile and eternal damnation to those who don't enjoying my indulgent freedom here hanging up pentabarf
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Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 2:50 PM UTC
thanks