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Astrobaby Aug 2015
***** *****
***** man
***** shoes and
***** face
***** *****
***** her
***** ma and
***** pa
***** *****
***** me
***** you
***** us and
***** now
***** ***** boy ***** ***** girl
***** *****
***** *****
***** *****
Classy J Feb 20
***** water all through these streets,
***** water poisoning what we eat,
***** water flooding the mind,
Poisoning how we think.
***** water all through these streets,
***** water poisoning what we eat,
***** water flooding the mind,
Gotta be careful what ya drink.

Verse 1:
Uh, Seems like we always in a state of emergency,
In a land of democracy,
Things don’t seem free to me.
It’s like trying to wash our hands in ***** water, g.
Everything has a cost, so tell who going to pay the fee?
It certainly not going to be the dominant society.
For the system was build by and for white people to have superiority.
That demonizes anyone that doesn’t conform to their authority.
Spreading a sense of inferiority over natives and minorities.
And I’m not just talking historically, because these issues persist presently.
Change can’t happen unless one is willing to **** the teet of the majority.
For we live in world that separates based off of hierarchy.
That strips down and overgeneralizes our identities.
Then when one overcomes these disparities they are seen as the unordinary.
The exception to the rule,
Like *** is that supposed to mean?
Think I’m about to lose my sanity, dealing with an uneducated narrow minded humanity.
In a state bombarded with atrocity after atrocity,
Yet people have the audacity to tell us to get over it instantly.
Living in a democracy that doesn’t have time to listen to me,
Living in a world where history repeats,
Perhaps I guess we just can’t get enough of insanity.
It just doesn’t make sense to me?
I thought we were supposed to be evolved,
Yet be so devolved mentally.
Like how can indigenous people asking for clean water cause so much controversy?
For if your province or city didn’t have access to clean water, wouldn’t you worry?
Wouldn’t you start protesting firmly?
All I ask is that yawl start checking your privilege homie.

***** water all through these streets,
***** water poisoning what we eat,
***** water flooding the mind,
Poisoning how we think.
***** water all through these streets,
***** water poisoning what we eat,
***** water flooding the mind,
Gotta be careful what ya drink.

Verse 2:
Water is the foundation to survival,
Water can also be a philosophical symbol,
For we all thirst for something,
It’s like we are cursed or something.
Being immersed into desensitization,
Becoming numb to everything.
Needing to wash away what is obstructing.
Blocking the path towards transformation.
As established norms perpetuates discrimination.
Whilst also justifying racism and condemnation.
I didn’t choose to born,
But yet that some how qualifies me for damnation.
Because my skin colour is seen as being sinful, that needs to be put through sanitation.
Becoming guilty on the basis of association.
Which makes it harder to find the equation.
As everyone has different values, beliefs and expectations for how to fix this situation.
***** water sure is a contamination,
Thats been leaking out since creation.
That has divided not just people but also nations.
If only people could be mature when having these debates and conversations.
Instead of suffocating on our offence,
Or wallowing within a sense of victimization.
****, this ***** water sure has damaged how we function.

***** water all through these streets,
***** water poisoning what we eat,
***** water flooding the mind,
Poisoning how we think.
***** water all through these streets,
***** water poisoning what we eat,
***** water flooding the mind,
Gotta be careful what ya drink.
David Ehrgott Mar 2016
***** ***** in denim
They cut your heart when you let them
Those ***** *****
Da da da da der *****
***** *****
Da da da da der *****
Now Karen was a cutie
Had her man and a *****
She kissed her man off
And then he beat her
She found a girlfriend
They went to heaven
Because those ***** ***** in denim
Rip your thing when you let them
Those ***** *****
Da da da da der *****
***** *****
Da da da da der *****
Now Donna was a queenie
She licked her way to the fifties
She found a woman who had a plastic
Way up inside her
It was fantastic
She loved those ***** ***** in denim
They'll turn you on if you can catch one
Those ***** *****
Da da da da der *****
***** *****
Da da da da der *****
Harrison W Nov 2013
I'm fading away
Fading fast
Hoping I won't disappear
Into nowhere

Girls and ***
Lust and regrets
Drugs and coke
Drinks and rage
Are some things that I sink into

The sin that I own
I pray for it to wash away
Only to get ***** again
I pray for it to wash away
Get *****
          Wash away
                               Get *****
                                                Wash away
                                                                      Get *****
                                                                                        Wash away
                                                                                  Get *****
                                                                              Wash away
                                                                     Get *****
                                                            Wash away
                                                    Get *****
                                         Wash away
                                      Get *****
                                                Wash away
                                                                  Get *****
                                                                           Wash away
                                                                       Get *****
                                                                   Wash away
                                                           Get *****
                                                                               Wash away
                                                                                                    Get *****
                                                                                                    And again
                                                                                              And again

Finally can't get clean
Can't stop
Each day gets messier and messier
Filth protrudes in my fingernails
Filth protrudes inside my body

I don't want to get clean
I want to be messy
I want to be nasty
I want to be *****
I'm filthy and I love to be filthy
I feel sick
But I love it

I don't need saving
I don't need anybody or anything
I only need the filth
I can't live without the filth
I want to disappear in the filth
I want to go away in it
Valo Salo Aug 2014
There is dirt all over my face
Dirt in my hair down to the floor
Big pieces and lumps of dirt
Floating through the space and air

I never have to do the cleaning
I got dirt piled up everywhere
And it crawls out of the woodworks
Like ***** words in ***** laundries

Dirt is dead ***** serious to me
**** makes me ***** happy and free
Like ***** waste and ***** waste of time
Clean dirt makes me want to cry

I got dirt in my liver
And dirt in my brain
I eat dirt for dinner
And I'm ***** insane

Dirt is dirt ***** beautiful to me
Dirt is the fuel and dirt is the light
Stained and sprayed with dirt
I live my ***** life
Derrek Estrella Jun 2019
***** Miss Whint took a flight on a Saturday night
***** Miss Whint showed the world her insides
If science can’t show her a number
She’ll take despair to a mystical side
And the world will be her child

If you can find a path to the sea
I’ll call you a human being
If that’s worth believing
Faces articulate so cantankerously
And lose any intention for their mind

While we grow, yet still coagulate
Perhaps we’ll see, her cruelty’s bound to time
And we’ll be fine
In her broken home is where she dominates
And hates her own cherry tree
Who screamed immensely

***** Miss Whint, she took a flight
***** Miss Whint was despair at first sight
She lost emotionality
When she confided in reality

***** Miss Whint has the look of a saccharin knife
***** Miss Whint made it hard to live a life
When we’re all strangers to the sun
The working man’s light is the muzzle flash of a gun
But we’re just having fun

She sweeps the open road with love
And a diamond compartment
Twisting the road-bent
Indignant children are the fodder of her highway
That leads to a city in the wane

While she eats the air and lives another day
Deep lines accentuate her mighty wake
And that’s okay
The fools are left to smiles and opulence
She makes them find sense in their own pretence
Preaching, “there’s no end”

***** Miss Whint, she took a flight
***** Miss Whint was despair at first sight
You lost emotionality
When you confided in reality

If her mouth was wider when she began
Maybe we could have had some fun
But how could she care for what happened minutes ago?
There is an open vent to useless things to sow
If her eyes were brighter when we lost our lives
Maybe we could be satisfied
But typewriters stay their hand to the climate’s cold command
And we’re left to indulge in what still stands

So, as I wrote this like a letter
To a lady of vicious weather
Someone then caught me and said,
“Swallow those words or I’ll have your head”
So I said,
“This note has no point, so go count your coins”

***** Miss Whint has the look of the fourth of July
***** Miss Whint took a ruler to the human life
When we’re all frightened by the sun
The working man’s light is the masquerade of a gun
But we’d all rather run
ogdiddynash Nov 2014
here there everywhere.
regular like.
verb and noun,
he, both.
soiled, soiled.
verb, noun.

a stupid~sounding word.
say ***** *****
***** three times fast.

what is a sound of *****?

what is the color of *****?
every color that leaves you,
or even begins you,
soiled, sullied, tainted.

the intimate man did not intimate.

his stains were visible.
no need for polite,
needless the charade,
of legitimizing intimacy,
there for all to see.

they were no longer
he did not know why,
after awhile,
he didn't care.

pretended intimacy,
which was a ***** thing,
a stainless steel cutlery
kind of *****.
a reflection visible only to the
eye of the beholder.

cutlery was never clean,
soiled, after but one use,
in the mouth, with the hands.

such intimacy,
that, they still shared.
an easy pretense.

terror is intimate
and *****.

lived in terror.
not constant which implies periodic spaces.
no breaks.
the terror soiled him,
you did not need even be intimate with me.

see, smell it.
taste it,
even better!

though the terror was deeply intimate,
in the skin embedded,
I told ya,
easy visible.
easy to avoid the intimacy of

clean, silky clean intimates,
changed regular,
changed nothing.

intimacy was a Cain mark.
his private, public.
his public, privy.


shame is intimate.

there are so many kinds too.
the shame of soiled.
the shame of disrespect,
the shame behind closed doors.
the shame of public humiliation.
the shame, the stink, of failure.
the shame we share in ways
we wish not speak of.
the shame of bad grammar,
shame leaves you soiled, *****.

shame on you for having read so far.

but you can boast
you knew me when,
you knew me
bad and well.

you knew
that you did not know
anything about me,
even though,
we had been
at least
this one time,

who is soiled now?
Can we just play *****, you and i?
I mean give me looks across the table, that you are disgusted with me, for taking my ******* off and dropping them in your crotch. I mean like you talk to another girl and glance at me, as if to say '******* *****', knowing you will **** me; Later.
Let's play *****, come on, i will welcome you in to my house, in stockings and leather, and push you against the wall; grab your hand and bend it back whilst i bite your neck. Push my knee between yours, and hold your chest in my hand whilst i make you watch me unbuckle you. Let me drag you on the floor, whilst you try to get up and say 'not here'.
Why can't we play *****?
I don't want no ******* bedroom. I want the doorway, i want the hall, i want the kitchen counter, i want the living room floor and the shower. I want the couch, where i will straddle you and make you watch me as i undress myself for you, slowly, pulling, my, stocking down, so my knee is between your legs and i lean over you, so my ****** points out to your mouth, and i can hear you breathing, and every time you move towards me, i pull away.
Why can't we just play *****?
Why can't you get me mad, and we argue so bad that i want to smash my fist in to your skull til you bleed all over my kitchen floor, brains on the washer...then pick me up, throw me on the bed, slap my face about, slap open my legs and grab my throat and the other hand on my chest as you push deep into me? Hear me gasp, watch my pupils widen, groan at you, watch as you come close to my ear, and say, 'this is what i *******, wanted'.
Why can't we?
Why can't we be deviants?
Why can't we go play in the forest?
Why can't we do like animals do?
Why can't we make two barebacked beasts in the moonlight?
Why can't we play *****?
I touch your leg as you drive, playing the piano up and down your thigh, biting my lip, running my fingers up and down your thigh, nails pushing deeper, up and down, up and down, until you pull the car over, slam the brakes on, pull off your seatbelt and grab me, push the seat back, as  i smile a secret smile as you breathe deeply in my ear as you pull off my wet knickers, and begin to take me on a journey through the stars.
Why can't we play *****?
Shut your eyes. Shut your mouth. Shut everything, the, ****, up. Listen to the beat of my heart, as it quickens and i place your hand over my chest, and i look in your eyes. Stop you talking about me, about what i am like, and who i am, and what it should be, and this and ******* that.
I don't want no tv before bed, i don't want no book, i don't want no midnight stargazing.
**** that ****. ****, me.
I want to play *****, with you.
Aiden Williams Mar 2013
A man filled with purity
From a God filled with Love.
Came with cleans hands,
From the discomfort of living up above.
A man with no iniquity,
Who only sees equality,
Obedient to what His Father asked of he,
Simply to save you and me.

Though His hands were clean and free of sin,
He had a passion to serve from deep within.
We ***** people,
muddy with hate,
Muddy with pride,
Daily we procrastinate.
He tainted His clean hands,
For the sake of our lives.

Willing to get His hands *****,
Something we do not do,
Though we are covered with dirt,
This we refuse to see.

***** hands,
Of Him who saved us,
***** hands of us who live without love.
***** hands of us who believe in God,
***** hands,
Elioinai Jul 2018
I don’t want you to feel tainted
I don’t like that some people see you as *****
***** hippie
But maybe that’s because we’re a lot a like
Some people think I’m *****
***** hippie
I don’t shave my legs out of compassion for the earth
to reduce plastic waste by not buying razors
to love my legs just like God made them
I want you to love you like God made you
And I know you work hard to ignore how you’re painted
to love yourself radically
What people call you
***** hippie
I know the only man who calls you that loves you like crazy
But I’m afraid you know other people think it
Even though you have cleaner hair than me
Tattoos last forever
No they don’t
Nothing lasts forever
Except for love
***** hippie
This is about much more than just being “a hippie”
Dedicated to Jamie Helms
Leydis Jun 2017
I’m not *****, but my name is Diana.
I’m not *****, but what you provoke in me,
may take my demure like the wild side.

I’m not *****, but my name is Diana!
My kiss has the power to plough through your empty life.
I can be your morning dew just by embracing you.
I can take you to heights not discovered by man.
I can do all that,
by gazing into your soulless eyes.

I’m not *****, but my name is Diana!
I am not a harlot; but, when I love…
I do it with irreverence!

Let’s not play these games,
if you want me, just say the word.
If you belong to someone, keep walking through.
I want to give all this repressed passion to the man who can only love me.
I want to be your lady,
and your harlot in the shadows of the night.
Some call me Lady Diana
yet, I’m no Princess in bed.

My name is Diana, but ***** I am not.
I want to transcend in your arms,
to that harmonious line,
where the sun and the ocean osculate unbeknownst to the stars.

I want ****** combustion,
that culminates in exhausting convulsions,
creating a series of combustible explosions
of surrender and celestial passion.

My name is Diana, but, ***** I am not!
I want your love.
I want that mystical magic, the sun and the moon create,
when they eclipse their passion into each other’s hands.

My name is Diana,
Call me *****.
Call me sweetie.
Call me whatever you want…
As long as I know,
That you are entirely mine.

kirk Feb 2016
Many houses have been cleaned on ***** window routes
Terraced rows and bungelows and other glass recruits
Customers of differant types some casual, some suits
Pleasent ones and lovely ones, some of them fun hoots

One window shined, revealed behind someones bathroom door
An awful sight giving us a fright, more than we bargained for
We went to clean it was abscene, that horrible thing we saw
Showing his snake was it a mistake, or was he just a *****

Every time we went to clean situations would get worse
We didn't want to catch a glimps, of his ****** immerse
A naked burden it bacame, why was he so perverse
***** windows should remain to conceal that bathroom curse

The anxiousness we both felt, how low he always sank
Unwanted sightings of body flesh and yanking on his plank
Disgusting ways of a deprived mind, so very dark and dank
***** windows are one thing, but not when you ******* ****

We did not want to ascend, with each ladder run to climb
knowing what awaited us we didn't want to see his slime
That bathroom window was regular, he did it every time
His kind of antics should be re-classed as a life of grime

We're not interested in plonker pulling a real discusting stunt
Nakedness we don't want to see, or a nasty shiveled front
Your ***** windows are to much so we will both be blunt
Keep your wanking to yourself and ******* your ***** ****

We don't care how many times, or how much you try
There is no necessitation to see your small **** eye
Confess your sins and tell your wife and don't you effing lie
That you've been bathroom wanking and flashing your cream pie

We told him we're not cleaning, when he dosent wear a stitch
And because he had to ******* **** and treat us like his *****
We're not your pleasure ******, when you've got that certain itch
Your ***** windows we wont clean when your mind is in a ditch

It's time us girls said goodbye you've made us ******* cross
Window cleaners we may be but your not our wanking boss
So now we're gone and you know why, my friend it's adios
And all because you had to flash and have a bathroom toss
A true story about a man on a window cleaning round
mc ish Jun 2018
***** hands,
doing beautiful works,
are still *****?
dimming at the rapture
i cannot get the words expressed.
i hope to one day find an ounce of your being in someone else,
someone who is allowed to love with all they have.
someone not held back by society or circumstance.
but for now, i lie dormant at your doorstep,
hoping for the chance to let you see anything you’d like to,
take apart my very mind and keep the pieces that will keep me in your sight.
our ***** hands are not allowed to touch,
lest we create a spark so bright
they dare to put us out.
these hands make for a lovely soul, yearning to walk upwards without change of self.
our ***** hands are not the ones in need of cleansing,
our love is not the one in need of changing.
you and i, we are the ones who love with all we have,
we are the ones happy to suffer at the ends of the earth in order to give those we long for freedom.
love is accepted in the form of begging and lies,
coercing and exasperated sighs,
throwing things and vicious rendezvous,
“he just likes you!”
our ***** hands can’t too be swept by lust’s mighty flood?
when some of the world’s greatest creations came from the mud.
Sarah K Nov 2014
As dull as the lust left on ***** sheets
Is our love
A fire burning with the embers of passion
Has since fizzled to ashes

As hungry as the lust left on ***** sheets
Is our love
Your simple glance I feel upon my shoulders
Devours me whole

As eloquent as the lust left on ***** sheets
Is our love
Every simple caress and tentative whisper
Faded into gentle cotton fabric

As arrogant as lust left on ***** sheets
Is our love
Knowing just how to make your eyes see only me
You discovered how to take away my world

As empty as the lust left on ***** sheets
Is our love
Angry words electrifying the traces we left behind
Doors slamming, leaving me alone with this misshapen heart

As confining as lust left on ***** sheets
Was our love
This bed like a prison cell
Has bound me to you.
Benji James May 2017
Twenty Seventeen,
You are feeling me.

Hey let me set the scene
It's night, and stars are shining bright
Parked car by the ocean side
She's sitting front seat
Right next to me
Can't help but look into your eyes
And that's when I decide
To turn the music up high
climb out the door
Opened up yours
Grabbed your hand
Yeah helped you out the car
Picked you up
Placed you on the Bonet
I climbed up on it
grabbed your hand
Helped you up again
Climbed to the roof
Helped you up to

I just want to ***** dance
With you (with you)
On this car roof
Let the playlist play
Yeah pull you close to me
I just wanna dance with you
All night, all right
Till the sun comes up
All I want to do
Is ***** dance with you
On the roof

You're looking mighty fine
In your dress, oh yeah
I like the way you're grinding
Upon me, I like to see
You smiling, laughing
Having a good time
Keep rocking out
Till the sun comes out
Yeah I like your moves,
Yeah, they're so smooth.
I like what you do.
You know what I want
Show me all you've got

I just want to ***** dance
With you (with you)
On this car roof
Let the playlist play
Yeah pull you close to me
I just wanna dance with you
All night, all right
Till the sun comes up
All I want to do
Is ***** dance with you
On the roof

Yeah, this has been perfect,
Yeah this was worth it
Don't know how this moment
Could get any better
And that's when a slow song
Just magically came on
And that's when the vocals
Came clearly through the speakers
And said all the things
I want to say to you
Like how I'm falling
more in love with you
Alright okay let's just dance real slowly
Spin you around
bring you back
Pull you as close as I can
That's when you rested your head
on my shoulder and you said

I just want to ***** dance
With you (with you)
On this car roof
Let the playlist play
Yeah pull you close to me
I just wanna dance with you
All night, all right
Till the sun comes up
All I want to do
Is ***** dance with you
On the roof

Oh what a night
And as the sun
Starts to rise
I'm sitting next to you
That is when you move in
Closer to my face
You look at me and smile
And that is when it hit
I had to kiss those lips
So I did, and that taste
Oh this moment
I don't want to let go of it
I love you. You know that I do
And that's when I heard
those magical words from you
I love you,
I want to do this all again
Do you think we can?
Well alright, hold tight
Because you know that

I just want to ***** dance
With you (with you)
On this car roof
Let the playlist play
Yeah pull you close to me
I just wanna dance with you
All night, all right
Till the sun comes up
All I want to do
Is ***** dance with you
On the roof

©2017 Written By Benji James
Wanted to put something fun on here today.
I'm not all doom and gloom after all. :)
Test Ting Won To Tree
Charles Fleischer

Rifleman decal water is to Tiny basket liners as Strained yo-yo string is to?
Dark wool glowing is to Oldest lost oddity as First genetic engine is to?
Black quail taint is to Nut curdled paint as Hemp biscuit dominoes are to?
Steam traced paper is to Lemon ash vapor as Digital ****** wig is to?
Eccentric brine mimes are to Electric silk slacks as Spark formed lava is to?
Sunchoked black hornets are to as Rescued orphan doves as Retold cat jokes are to?
Hand traced videos are to Braided rubber spines as Opal rain dancers are to?
Halogen anchor gong is to Annoying bread portraits as Soft bracelet lockers are to?
Old troll bios are to Select cherub echoes as Broken matchstick parasols are to?
Dome nine chariots are to Frayed lunar remnants as Fuming honey flasks are to?
Bluing assault operas is to Beading fluted flowers as Magnetic lawn tweezers are to?
Converted flea sponges are to Floating dog murals as Frozen Archie comics are to?
Molded road pads are to Crusty gumdrop thread as Straw ribbed pelicans are to?
Inflatable diamond vowel is to Single gender raffle as Groovy desert coffee is to?
Temporary solution radiation is to Idiotic witness mumble as Motorized marshmallow kit is to?
Panoramic utopian paranoia is to Aggravated **** silhouettes as Unhinged gun sellers are to?
Homesick ghost pajamas is to Virtuous fly fungus as Royal sandpaper gloves are to?
Gangster hayride tickets are to Deer milk Oreos as Turnip fairy maps are to?
Glue gun **** is to Nocturnal cabin mice as Cab fare corn is to?
Speckled fish nickels are to Under water bric-a-brac as Epic snakeskin paisley is to?
******* bungalow pranks are to Drowsy vapid oafs as Quantized cavern fish are to?
Raunchy snail kimono is to Coiled time dice as Smeared equator malt is to?
Metallic centaur franchise is to Transparent cheese chess as Spotted glacial remnants is to?
Sky fused pong is to Rustic mothers brattle as Granulated canister ointment is to?
Overgrown maze mule is to Mated smugglers hugging as Floating thesaurus exam is to?
Sliding coed sprinkler is to Soapy whitefish rebate as Precious lamb diaper is to?
Mushy acorn luster is to Lilac protein rings as Slapstick wrestler dialect is to?
Freaky plankton bells is to Rolling horse divorce as Morphing morphine lips are to?
Sticky razor sparkle is to Emerald muscle spasm as Glaring cat cipher is to?
Peppy unisex mustache is to Pelican fighter syndrome as Clumping night grumble is to?
Scanning paired pearls are to Ruby rubbed roaches as Satanic sailor flotsam  are to?
Glowing asteroid solder is to Ideal shark data as Failed frail doilies are to?
Numb nuts boredom is to Fantastic icy phantoms as Sporadic silk creations is to?
Crooks crow chow is to Loading spackled bonder as Gargled snowdrop blasters are to?
Outdid myself today is to Outside myself again as Outlived myself controls is to?
Venting shuttlecock upset is to Texting badminton kitten as Settler tested motels are to?
Prepare paired vents is to Prefer paid events as Pretender predicts fiction is to
Crunchy mental fender is to Catching mentor menace as Poorly seasoned lettuce is to?
Outside sidewalk inside is to Seaside outcast input as Sideways landslide victory is to?  
Compile fake password is to Compost world poo as Compose village anthem is to?
Crooked crotch blunder is to Loud crowd thunder as Divine vine finder is to?
Chucks’ wooden truck is to Bucks good luck as Sticky ducks tucked is to?  
Overhaul underway overseas is to Overturned downsized pickup as Underground onramp overloaded is to?
I’ll bite there is to Aisle byte their as Isle bight there is to?
Gnat gnawed wrist is to ***** show beans as See through putty is to?
Flapping floppy guppies are to Buzzing zipped dozers as Muddy ****** strippers are to?
Dark diagonal dialogue is to Diabolical dihedral die as Interesting circadian exposition is to?
Experimental flossing expectations are to Waxed dental traps as Permanent impermanence resolution is to?  
Outran ringside intrigue is to Sidetracked onboard boatload as Loaded firearm topside is to?
Phony ****** phone is to Chewy ego honey as Yogi Mama’s dada is to?
Nimble teardrop squiggle is to Humble cage curtains as Loyal truckstop morals are to?
Torching curled elastic is to Sonic neighbor clamor as Golden droplet integers are to?
Duplex pupil scanners are to Nacreous cloud clocks as Shrouded flute shops are to?
Lawn rocket tendrils are to Finding surreal borders as Sheep monarchs children is to?
Gloating ungloved squires are to Busting double doubters as Pushing woeful doctors are to?
Tricking snowbelt firedogs is to Panmixing blackened haywires as Unclothed shameful leaders are to?
Malicious ranch ritual is to Internal puppet bubble as Ornate underworld masquerade is to?
Rustic debonair Eskimos are to Mindless sassy elves as Gorgeous somber acrobats are to?
Learned earthy pimps are to Fearless sneaky Queens as Somber gentle vagrants are to?
Shocking horse wear is to Glossy sled fluid as Damaged chipmunk tongue is to?
Traditional agony chart is to Damp voodoo motel as Backwoods museum quote is to?
Magical cat cabin is to Dapper porpoise humor as Malicious graveyard foam is to?
Therapeutic gazelle cushion is to Stored alibi equipment as Stunning tempo light is to?
Fantastic rascal art is to Wasted prune dust as Jupiter’s ****** law is to?
Little nut razor is to Gigantic hyena shield as Hourglass pillow fever is to?
Coiled rain clouds are to Dizzy tycoon clowns as Lime eating cowards are to?
Possessive epicurean demonstrators are to Faded eavesdropping giants as Determined swanky drunks are to?
Aquatic preview pocket is to Soggy judicial topiary as Finicky hamster fabric is to?
Enlarged fruit cuff is to Obedient mumbling orchestra as Dark tenant tariff is to?
Recycled flash thermometer is to Botched temptation probe as Pet glider grid is to?
Seriously shy idols are to Costly driving perfumes as Ferryboat chapel wine is to?
Winged jalopy details are to Faithful spectral fathers as Sprinkled mint rainbows are to?
Spelling unneeded words is to Sprouting donut ***** as Blaming mellow mallrats are to?
Eroding loom keepsake is to Magnificent accordion canoe as ***** bongo fumes are to?
Souring violet ink is to Juvenile insult park as Periodic ferret envy is to?
Obedient boyfriend aroma is to Sanitized fat lozenges as Dramatic jailer garb is to?
Mysterious patrol group is to Dynamic maiden discharge as Captured hurricane ratio is to?
Lackadaisical bigot bingo is to Oblong care merchant as Expensive swamp shampoo is to?
Petite orifice worship is to Atomic barge pet as Plucked hair exhibit is to?
Elite officer wallop is to Automatic yard rake as Healing ****** glitter is to?
Needless swan costume is to Giant jungle goat as Organic picnic napkin is to?
Leaky jet steam is to Innovative fascist whistle as Enchanting idol evidence is to?
Plastic mascara seduction is to Greasy thermal ointment as Attractive muskrat crease is to?
Lucky camel pills are to White coral Torah as Eternal stage clutter is to?
Roasted oat **** is to Sloppy *** glue as Nylon table debt is to?
Steep nook catastrophe is to Empty dome damage as Pulsing breeze powder is to?
Empty sack power is to Hitched buck stroke as Red claw warning is to?
Ultra brief slogan is to Yummy lab mutant as Pathetic ball armor is to?
Nauseating fish splatter is to Obstinate ****** twitch as Strained ***** coffee is to?
Mezzanine intermission fossil is to Proven **** apathy as Golden duck shroud is to?
Civil tutors torment is to Thor’s posted theory as Yellow melon rain is to?
Immense olive raft is to Exploding kangaroo buffet as Ethereal witness index is to?  
Marching dark speeders are to Searing scribble fighters as **** tripping sinners are to?
Seeping viral angst is to Aged hermit tea as Murky bowl nibble is to?
Condensed blister guzzle is to Pink dorsal pie as Lavish speckled runt is to?
Needy insult poet is to Sedated acorn trader as Dry honey zoo is to?
Veiled trust flicker is to Deranged poser fashion as Flat sizzle tangent is to?
Purified diet spray is to Nebulous wishing target as Thrilling screen dope is to?
Majestic ribbon astronomy is to Bizarre formation sector as Rebel bell gimmick is to?
Sealed dart whisper is to Green silk draft as Cold vacuum varnish is to?
Clumsy raven power is to Insect island circus as Minted mink drapes are to?
Curved map ruler is to Tiny lethal radio as Blue fused metal is to?
Inverted laser invasion is to Damp sheep dump as Puffy gown smoke is to?
Saucy Channel blazer is to Leather goat filament as Starched locomotive hat is to?
Broken jumper leads are to Disgraced mini exorcists as Designer shamrock caulk is to?
Tweaked poachers smokes are to Assorted sulfur pathways as Collected bedlamp trickle is to?
******* bungalow pranks are to Drowsy vapid oafs as Quantized cavern fish are to?
Crawling battle worms are to Vibrating metal pedals as Mentholated matrix wax is to?
Missing meshed rafts are to Liquid rock pipes as Crinkled bean bikinis are to?
Tithing **** joggers are to Perforated buck fronds as Leather zither picks are to?
Fearing truthful cowards is to Rambling preachers mumble as Gazebo ambulance gasoline is to?
Shelving elder’s whiskers is to Poaching goalies pesto as Radical tricycle angst is to?
Mucky gunboat polymer is to Primeval maypole flameout as Cathedral greenhouse intercom is to?
Diaphanous safety prize is to Unleashed saucer lion as Dorky blonde ropewalker is to?
Tapered spring meter is to Silver silo mythology as Misguided judges medallions are to?
Alligator x-ray money is to Cherry unicorn water as Coyote cactus toy is to?
Cowardly dorm scrooge is to Atomized pewter script as Flattened spore smoothies are to?
Trash can yodel is to Flashing wired spam as Exploding chocolate pudding is to?
Sonar blasted bushings are to Threading ruined wheels as Forty shifting boxes are to?
Tiny balloon rebellion is to Softened square cleanser as Iconic soul sucker is to?
Harmony night light is to Spanish nitrogen desire as Squirrel cavern iodine is to?

Lazy winter secret is to Slow airport widget as Silly mustard binder is to?
Elephants raising raisins are to Microscopic lamb planet as Purple hay puppets are to?
Caribou venom vaccine is to Electronic lemonade choir as Demonic princess massage is to?
Beet coated bridge is to Fattened needle point as Mylar monkey spine is to?
Ashy ink dust is to Youngest rabbi planet as Orange cartoon geometry is to?
Cold green chalk is to Cobalt ladder farce as ***** river filters are to?
Sublime sheep master is to Sleeping past rapture as Subliminal bliss jelly is to?
Ocean crust slippers are to Twigged germ radar as Popping sharpie scope is to?
Zen wrapped beep is to Oak foamed code as Wicked flashing sizzle is to?
Dew eyed sleigh is to Say I do as Act as me is to?
Humpback on hammock is to Ham hocking hummer as Hunchback with knapsack is to?
Corned flag jelly is to Draped wing chewers as Tripping swan acid is to?
Futuristic Rembrandt chant is to Almond likened meadows as Asian timber blue is to?
Nap in sack is to Flap on Jack as Ducks dig crack is to?
Flowing flavored lava is to Gleaming optic layers as Enhanced goose gibberish is to?      
Flag tied pajamas are to Saline checker choir as Speed reading quotas is to?
Whipped spam spasms are to Misted shaman scripture as Testing pitched bells is to?
Cave aged eggs are to Crowded tiger cages as ****** wagon pegs are to?
Pigeon towed car is to a Man toad art as Wolf whisker wish is to?
Second hand clothes are to Minute hand gestures as Final hour prayer is to?
Slick wicked shavers are to Tricky watch boxes as Sprouting pine tattoos are to?
Waxed stick ravens are to Match stick foxes as Narrowed thermal towers are to?
Ice cave rice is to Laced face lice as Gourmet pet **** is to?
Diamond lane anniversary is to Space age appropriate as Time travel agency is to?
Lime bark violin is to Lemon twig guitar as Lunar sky waffles are to?
Fake rat **** is to Smart cake batter as Rugged fur tax is to?
Tarred raft fluff is to Flaked rafter dust as Lined liquor flask is to?
Flakes will fall is to Take Bills call as Broken maze compass is to?
First faked voter is to Entombed cartoon honey as Smallest aching smurf is to?
Fancy bared ******* are to Flaky fairy treats as Kings amp filter is to?
Bone window folio is to Whittled fake pillow as Little fitted jackets are to?
Nine nuts brittle is to Ate pear pie as Six packed poppers are to?
Incandescent playground pencil is to Elastic hand worm as Perfumed piano ink is to?
Opal shifting anode is to a Windup lion decoy as Pale paisley trolley is to?
Stacked black boxes are to Old packed tracks as a Throwing micron hammers is to?
Apricot bark furnace is to Merry Orchid Choir as an Ivory rinsing funnel is to?  
Narcotic honey nuts are to Slick flag toffees as Silk fig sugar is to?
Orange coin raisins are to Low note candies as Smelling balled roses is to?
Pocket packed monotints are to Tragic ladder hayracks as Ravishing speed traders are to?
Crayon spider resin is to Coral squirrel forceps as Wolf tumbled loaf is to?  
Silver wheat flies are to Width shifting wheels as Golden blister blankets are to?
Really tiny hippopotamus is to Masked fat podiatrist as a Sad sack psychiatrist is to?
Miniature Mesopotamian monuments are to Apple minted elephants as Raising wise ravens is to?
Lathered nymph nacre is to Sonic ion constellations as Concealed iron craft is to?  
Epic gene toy is to Ladies bubble sled as Jagged data bowl is to?
Bugged dagger bag is to Pop sliced meld as Atom bending moonlight to?  
Rural madam’s deed is to Dyed dew dipper as Eight sprayed dukes are to?
Jiffy grand puffer is to Floating altar myth as Vintage dark mirth is to?
Undercover overnight underwear is to Overpaid undertaker overdosing as Overheard understudy freebasing is to?

Black grape crackle is to Red cactus ruffle as Installing padded pets are to?
Snide snobs sniffing are to Sneaky snails snoring as Snared snipes sneezing are to?
Exploring explosive exits is to Explaining expansive exports as Expecting expert exchange is to?
Shrewd logic ledger is to Puppets dropping cupcakes as Placated topaz octopi are to?
Door roof tools are to Cool wool boots as Wood cooked root is to?
Bright fight light is to Night flight fright as Mites bite site is to?
Floor flood fluid is to Wooden door Druid as Nasty **** broom is to?
Accurate police photography is to Intelligent microbe geography as Condensed aerosol biography is to?
Cowardly cowboy grime is to Corpulent corporate crime as Bosnian dwarf necromancer is to?
Jell-O clearing shaker is to Brillo cleaning shiner as Cheerios bowling shields are to?
Mumbled mindless hokey is to Fumbled found money as Humming kinder bunny is to?
Daisy’s clock setter is to Lilly’s boxer toxin as Poodles rose paddle is to?
Watch Bozo Copernicus is to Hire Clarabelle Newton as Find ***-wee Einstein is to?
Amethyst thistle whistles is to Lapis pistol whip as Diamond bomb scar is to?
Dandelion seahorse rescue is to Crabapple dogwood farm as Faux foxglove lover is to?    
Optical poppy stopper is to Polar halo lens as Day-Glo rainbow sticker is to?
Savanna leopard spotted is to Eskimo lassos kisses as Alligator lemonade standard is to?
Bill of Rights is to Will of left as Thrill of night is to?
Baptize floozies quickly is to Useless outsized nozzles as Puzzled wizard wanders is to?        
Chaps wearing chaps are to Chaps contesting contests as Consoling concealed consoles is to?
Quiet squirming squirrels are to Aeon beauty queens as Queasy greasy luaus is to?
Knew new gnu is to Sense scents cents as We’ll wheal wheel is to?
Blazing zingers ringing are to Wheezing singers flinging as Freezing finger number are to?
Lamb tomb jogger is to Dumb numb **** as Thumbed crumb bug is to?

Blue accordion casket is to Jaded scholar ***** as German mushroom circus is to?
President George Flintstone is to Funny Fred Washington as Abraham Jetson’s dog is to?
Google Desmond Tutu is to Kalamazoo Zoo Park as Zodiac actors Guru is to?
Swamp cradled whisperer is to Cherished drawbridge cello as Bludgeoned prankster outlaws are to?
Dukes pink mittens are to Smeared nest carava
SK Fisher Oct 2011
There she is
the girl with the ***** blonde hair
Shes takes form of the sun
and brightens my day
I hang on every word from her
no matter what she has to say
When i see her
my heart begins to pop
She is my ***** blonde, acid drop
Why cant i have her
I dont know why
When it comes to the girl with the ***** blonde hair
she is my life's
only high
redspace Jan 2014
It should have been *****.
Like the beer cans littering the table
and their contents drowning our insides.
Mine flitting around like drunken butterflies.
It should have been *****.
Like the words we shared of exes
and the faces we made at the taste of the cigarettes.
After the twelfth, we all get a little restless.
It should have been *****.
Like the basement we slept in
and the hand-me-down mattress awaiting warm bodies.
Warmer yet with clothes gone, and you on top of me.
It should have been *****.
Like three hours before having joked about ***
Having looked across the table
I was no longer able;
to really look you in the eye because... it should have been *****.

Your face found my neck and those lips found my spark.
You kissed me long and hard like we were lost lovers meeting for the first time.
You grabbed me in such a way it felt as though I could float.
You felt each part of me as you asked me what I wanted.
You spoke to me sweetly and let it all unfold.
You'd rough me up and then lay me down.
And you laid me down.
And I'd drown.
In that beer, in those bed sheets, in those hips,
in those eyes.
You have the most lovely eyes.

But it should have been *****.
It should have felt like the beer cans littering the table
and it should have felt like their contents may still be looming
and it should have felt like that basement or that bed or those sheets.
But it didn't.
It felt like we'd been doing this for years.
It felt as though we were finally holding each other again,
instead of for the first time.
It should have felt ***** when you held me the rest of the night.
But when I woke to you kissing my head and pulling me back into your arms,
***** was the last thing on my mind.
Unsafe Safe Mar 2014
Here's the thing about being a secret,
The secret starts off being so ****,
Sneaking around,
Telling little white lies,
It's all so thrilling,
Secrets make life interesting,
Plus it makes hooking up that much hotter.

Inevitably that all changes eventually,
Eventually keeping the secret becomes a burden,
I want to confide in people about what we are,
I don't want to put in the effort to keep us a secret anymore,
And more than anything…
I want the world to know how happy I am with you.

When I tell you I want more, you apologize and say you don't want the obligation,
And I understand,
But at the same time… it feels like *******,
Because I realize I'm not just the kind of secret you keep for fun or to make life interesting,
I'm the type of secret you keep because if it gets out…
You'll look bad.
A ***** Little Secret

Do you know how it feels to be your ***** Little Secret?
It hurts.
It feels like you're ashamed of me.
So why go on like this?
Why lie to everyone?
Why not have me and be honest?
Let the secret out, deal with the fall out.
Because being the one revealing the secret is far better than doing damage control when the secret gets out.

But of course, I say nothing.
I play along.
Try to keep it quiet.
Play by your rules,
In fear of loosing you if I don't,
And I continue to be your ***** Little Secret.
But remember this:
I may be your ***** Little Secret,
But you are my everything.
Written: December 10, 2012
Freetowrite Mar 2014
I have only one layer
I'm about to strip it bare
I'm about to submit to your desires
Of *** , **** , and hair

I'm giving in to inhibitions
As I spread myself before you on the bed
You better save some pocket change
Cause I intend on breaking
your wooden bed head

I'm about to lift my knees
Arch my back and beg please

I'm about to ask you ever so nicely
To make it harder
And hold me tightly

I'm about to try positions
A body is not meant to form
I'm about to make sure
Your ready to preform

I'm about to put signage
"Take care , slippery when wet"
Ready , set
And I'm gonna beg for more
You can bet

Harder and more forceful each time
I'm gonna have you gagging for breath
As hell meets heaven
And life measures ****** death

You say "oh how you look like heaven tonight "
As I guide you through hell
On this wild ride

You say I look somewhat like your wife
Maybe this morning
But I'm nothing like her tonight

Move with my body
And you'll get it just right

I am the officer in charge tonight

So shut your mouth
And let's go round for round
In a different type of fight
Let's keep it going
Until we break through the moon  light
I'm not from heaven
Nor a mother
But for these few dark hours

A ***** ***** housewife x
Man of tricks never ever succeeds
Why to play with broken beads
Third rate man with ***** deeds
Sows ***** seeds ,get ***** needs

Man is but master of tricks of trade
Cuts innocent other with sharp blade
To get his greed he is to serenade
Hence gets his face just fade to fade

Lust runs in veins like ***** blood
Hence he becomes victim of flood
Injures himself being a cactus bud
***** mud just goes back to  mud

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
Jo Swan Sep 2018
A ***** duct tape silences my mouth
People say blood is thicker than water
Yet your thunderous voice screams at me
Does daddy cherish his daughter?
So why can’t your eyes open and see
You’ve become a Mein Kampf tyrant?
You want my obedience and silence!

A ***** duct tape silences my mouth
As it leaves a residue of disgust
Must this be our memory?
Though silent my heart feels unjust-
Must you **** all my energy;
Leave me to feel lost and astray
As mental state starts to decay

A ***** duct tape silences my mouth
Will your anger subside and be quiet?
Fear suffocates vulnerable heart;
Wrathful words ready for a riot;
Confidence crushed as it’s torn apart.
Verbal abuse moves like a torrent flood,
Affecting those who share the same blood!

(c) 2018 Joanne Chang
This is dedicated to the silent victims of emotional and verbal abuse. Words can heal or harm a person's spirit. Home is meant to be a safe haven but unfortunately not everbody can feel loved and cherished in their own home.
Squirrely Girl Mar 2015
I heard every word you said.
Still running through my head.
Your words like a needle, slowly pricking my skin.
Prodding, picking finally making themselves slowly in.
Staring off into the street, I knew I had to walk away.
I could’nt bear stay nor listen to another word you say.
Ashamed to have felt something more.
My heart grew heavy and very sore.
I slipped away, blankly into space.
Disappointment and anger staring me in the face.

I’m like a sock.
A ***** one.
However, twasn’t ***** at first.
In fact it was brand new. Really, a very nice beautiful sock.
It was comfortable too, and fit you well.
You wore it so often, the fabric became thin.
Eventually a tiny little hole made its way in.
At first the hole wasn’t bad.
Sometimes it drove you crazy and even mad.
Yah know that feeling when all that sand gets in?
Though irritating maybe it tickled, even made you grin.
Boy! Did those socks get a lot of use, they were great.
You still loved those socks.
They were getting rattier and rattier every day, but you used them anyway.
They were THE socks yah know? You see them, and you know you JUST want to wear them.
So you wear them, you have a run, a WONDERFUL day ,in fact, in those socks.
Really, you always have nice days in those socks, they were just so comfortable!
You know how things get old? Well those socks got really old, I mean REALLY old.
Looking at them- “Man those socks are the best, putting them on now.”
You wish they would last but you just didn’t know how.
Excited to start your day, you put your favorite socks on.
But, ****… one sock really ripped with a giant massive hole.
Such a disappointment, you can’t really enjoy them anymore, they were better when you first bought them.
MAN, that hole got so irritating.
Not only sand came in but now pebbles and big rocks.
That **** pair of socks!
Not willing to throw them away cuz they were THE socks.
You washed them and put them in a far off box. Still *****, worn, and torn. Maybe you will use them again one day.
But, I don’t want to be your ***** socks.
I walked away.
zebra May 2016
look at those utters
now do as i say
your gaze melts my *****
**** my **** all day

your really pretty
i will love your ***
i dont mind if its ******
what i would do for your *****

You may be the slave
but i love your feet
i could kiss them all day
aren't they sweet

so your the slave
and im the master
come lick my ***
can you do it faster

i will ******* and hurt you
when ever i please
ill stick my **** inside you
i dont like a tease

i love yourl *******
more then i can stand
i could lick it all day
it never taste bland

i want it up
i want it down
if i cant have it
i get a frown

it taste so good
i never get enough
i eat it up
better then a cream puff

if something comes out of it
i really don't mind
i love caviar
but not in a jar

its truly religious
could it be god
incredibly delicious
i know it sounds odd

your ******* is cute
it sends me to bliss
can i prey to it
what about ****

oh yeah i love **** to
i kiss it all night
yummy yum goo
you say its real tight

ok ***** and toes
now im in tears
god i love subs
especially whoes

yes i love ankles
o my lord i love feet
kiss then 4 ever
aren't they sweet

when i see ****
my **** gets so hard
i like them all sizes
but i don't need a yard

then comes the men-strum
for only 3 days
its my very favorite time
i love it always

if your a lady
and don't give it up
and get all ******
go get a pup

if you don't think so
i wont be around
i love ***** *****
all tied and bound

so come to me sub
i love you i do
lets go to bed
i wana ******* :)

Mymai Yuan Sep 2010
Peeing: to ***; to urinate; to release the body of its liquid toxins; to pass or discharge *****; characteristically yellow- the strength of the color depending on the body’s hydration.
People have strange habits when peeing; urinating; releasing the body of their liquid toxins. Some people procrastinate it to the last minute and rush to the bathroom, barely yanking their pants down in time and shuddering in relief. They are those who habitually whip in and out, even when they don’t really need to. There’s the common usage of an escape from boredom in classes or meetings. Perhaps it even causes a slight blushing in the cheeks of painfully shy woman at hearing rushed tinkling so close by. And of course, they are also the people who love to leave surprises for the next person who uses the bathroom.
All in all, peeing seems to mean not much to people – a small part of life; but a very, very necessary part.  

                                 *                 *                    * .

The rain poured furiously outside the window as Emily sat, straining her brown eyes against the whiteboard flashing images of trigonometry from Mr. Well’s laptop, trying hard to concentrate. She was sitting in her usual seat in class, and also her favorite. It was a solitary table with a chair, away from the clusters of tables and the chattering children, and the only chair by the window. She liked to look out the window, even if it distracted her from Mr. Well’s loud explanations. The booming of “SOHCAHTOA” in her ears became distant as the wind’s movement caught her eye. She gazed out on sheets of rain flapping across the sky like giant teary spirits and pressed her fingertips on the glass. Cold.
Absent-mindedly, she pressed her cheek against the coolness and felt it absorb her body warmth. Her imagination kicked in and the glass became a panel of energy, ******* a little life from all those who touched it, vibrating with a strange purple light until it was so filled with energy the particles of the glass would explode and she would be the first to die from the sharp shatters that would spray across the room, causing droplets of blood to-
Mr. Well coughed meaningfully at her dreamy face. The class exploded into laughter and the bell rang. A skinny girl smiled at her but she was so lost in her own world, she forgot to smile back as she slung her bag on her shoulder and ran out. Maybe that’s why she didn’t have too many friends.
The dark skies were pouring furiously as only Bangkok in Monsoon weather can.
A walk home or a motorbike ride? A motorbike ride would be a little dangerous in this flooding… and with that reasoning she waved up a motorbike. The seat was soaked and so was the driver, whose brown leathered feet struggled to keep red flip-flops on as they sloshed through the flooded Sois.
Fat water bullets pelted her skin and the wind blew them ferociously into her face till her eyes stung. The motorbike swerved in and out of the cars stuck in traffic (slightly floating), the bottoms of their wheels immersed in ***** water.
The pockets of her school shorts were hastily rummaged through and she pulled out a soggy green twenty-baht note bank before running into the shelter of the lobby, dripping over the marble floor and completely drenched. The building-maid widened her eyes, and watched her horrified; knowing it meant extra work mopping and drying up the lobby floor as soon as Emily vanished into the elevator.
The plastic button with the circular metal piece glowed orange. It was strange how she was shivering with cold but her touch was still warm enough to light up the elevator buttons.
The usual itchy, impulsive, restlessness was building up inside her from the wet motorbike ride. Thunder roared and crackled through the lobby’s swinging glass doors and they vibrated slightly. Another flashing image of splintering glass splashed across her mind and in the split-second, she saw the diamond shards pierce the eye of the lobby’s guard and splinter across the floor-
She shook her head. This was what happened when she had too much pent-up energy. She had to do something- something reckless and fast and dangerous… now! A bolt of lightning went through her as a familiar wide open space came into her mind… the rooftop of her thirty-five floored building.
The elevator ride up was slow, much too slow for the fast pacing of her heart and she hit the metal doors with wet fists. Tearing out of the doors when it finally jolted to a stop, she climbed up to the top, running up the stairs two steps at a time and caught her breath. It was flooded up to her ankles and violent gusts of wind made her steady herself.
Emily’s Dad often told her stories of when he was child. “The winds in my home during Monsoon season were so strong we could lean into it with our fully body weight and we wouldn’t fall. It was almost as good as flying.”
Her lids squinted shut and the sensitive skin was immediately exposed to the pebbles of the rain and whipping wind; and in almost dream-like state, she leaned into the howling wind.
There was a comically slow fall and her bony knees hit the concrete flooring with a dull thud. She burst into tears of laughter in her own stupidity at thinking the wind could hold up against her gigantic frame and rubbed her ***** knees sorely. Reaching up to wipe her tears with muddy fingers, she laughed to herself again. There was no point in wiping away tears. They were so trivial in comparison to the current weeping of the skies.
Against the thick opaqueness of the wind, she could see how the view towered over a jungle of buildings as far as the eyes could see, with snaking concrete roads and skinny black canals. Slums scattered around nearby swanky hotels of the rich. The buildings faded into small dark shapes in the distance. Bangkok.
No matter how tall and industrial it tried to become, everyone ran for cover under this blinding rain.
Up here, completely a victim to nature’s power, she felt exposed; naked; real. The animalistic instincts inside her swelled up. Humans weren’t meant to wear these annoying pieces of material or shoved inside skinny architectural designs. With aggressive tearing motions, a pile of soggy clothes half lay, half floated on the flooded floor beside her and she stood there bare… and completely naked. Laughter spilled out from the depths of her naked chest with the two tiny hints of possible womanhood; it was louder than thunder. Screaming, laughing and gasping she stumbled around – climbing over objects and feeling the beautiful dizziness: a sweet, sweet dizzy. She stood up on a random block a meter high; spread her arms wide as her wet body shone with raindrops. The rain threatened to push her over, her soaked hair twitching heavily on her neck.
She ****** in her breath, ready to yell so that the heavens could hear but instead, the voice that came out was controlled with a shaky undertone of joy,
“I need to ***.”
And then she did.

                                                *         *            *.

His eyes are brown. Dark chocolate brown – a simple, solid color. Simple and solid like him.
Because he was so simple, people enjoyed his companionship. Though he was simple, he was not boring. Rather he was sharp-mouthed, quick on his feet, witty and observant speaking bald truths about people that either provoked them to scandalized laughter or humiliated fury.
What some people forgot to recognize was that he didn’t really love anyone. Plenty called him a close friend, but so absorbed were they in their own world; they seldom realized the fact that most of his thoughts were concealed. Kept in a little box of surprises in the back of his mind, and hidden so well nobody knew they existed.
He could spend months with a friend traveling in a different country, and return back home with no feelings of attachment. He could care for a friend while they were here and not really miss them while they were gone.
Most of the time his eyes were neutral and observing and they would sparkle amusedly when he had provoked someone with his words. This was how remained to almost everyone; everyone but one person. The one person that could turn his normally calm face even more still, the dark brows would rise slightly and a quick flash of fire would shoot through his eyes- and for a long while, they would burn slowly like two twin coals; the one person who could cloud his eyes dreamily; the one person who could make them glint wetly.  
He reached over and grabbed her hand. Emily turned smiling eyes at him.
A group of teenagers were strolling down the closed roads, armed with water guns, pasted in thick white powder, thoroughly drenched in the hot, dry weather and skipping over puddles (except for Emily who splashed into them).
Songkran in Bangkok: celebrated in the middle of April where temperatures reach forty-degrees Celsius, Thailand’s New Year and a time to pay respect to the elders in the family, but as most traditions, they became really just an excuse to enjoy oneself and in this case, one-year-olds to eighty-year-olds roamed the ***** streets splashing ice-cold water from hoses and water guns and smeared each other with chalk in buckets.
The street they were being shoved along was crowded with slick, drunk bodies. The heat of the afternoon sun shone down on their backs. The sign that introduced excited people in was sprayed by a passing pick-up truck filled with screaming locals. “WELCOME TO SOI COWBOY” printed the red letters.
Red-faced fat foreigners held in each arm a tiny ******* with their bright lace bras showing through the wet see-through shirt and their black eye shadow playing havoc with their cheeks.  Country-side Thai music blared in its jumpy, quirky manner with the over done sound effects. Those nasal voices of dark skinned women with their skins covered with make-up to an ashy white whined out of the stereos. A man with the head of a buffalo mask sauntered past. It was a mark of how wild things got at Songkran that eyes merely flickered over the shirtless buffalo briefly with a quick laugh. Transsexuals clad in diamond-studded flip-flops, wet white tank tops and mini jeans shorts the size of underwear danced to the blasting music from the open pubs down either side of the road. Their surgically-made ******* were all-too visible in the white shirts, their dark ******* poking out as they grabbed the crotches of good-looking men and boys that passed by, squealing and rubbing their bodies against white men especially. Most of these white foreigners had a look of bewildered pleased ness... for only a few realized that underneath that squeaky voice was a very deep rumble, and underneath those lacy thongs lay a very big surprise indeed.
One of the better-looking boys in the group, his green eyes and pointed chin drawing the fancy of many hookers, was pulled off by four pairs of wet skinny arms touching him and yelling in broken English, “Oh so handsome! You so handsome! I love you! What your name! You tell me your name, handsome boy!”
The handsome boy proceeded to manage some sort of scream for help while laughing until his stomach ached. It was Songkran; it was a merry time, and he knew he was good-looking. Kat, who held a secret crush on him laughed amusedly at his yelping.
Emily stumbled after him with Kat and parted through the crowd of ladies in time to see a tiny little ****** trip on her squeaking flip-flops and fall beside a sprawled figure, face down in the ***** road with a massive bag of ice on top of him.
“Hey! Are you alright?” Emily cried, half-amused and half-concerned, lifting the heavy ice bag off his shoulders.
Kat rushed forward, laughing but compromising her concern with furrowed brows and helped him up. “You okay Tom?”
He whimpered in pain and put a hand on his neck, rubbing it sorely. “That ice bag was ******* heavy.” The girls decided to make no note of his skinny arms.
They walked back to their group of friends who turned around and saw a limping green-eyed boy and roared with laughter. The noise caught the attention of predators searching for a good target and they were hosed down with water pipes.
Suddenly Emily felt a huge body lift her up and swing her around while hands plastered her with wet chalk.
She felt safe hands grab her and looked up into the pair of dark chocolate eyes. They were a little annoyed as they flickered over the fat drunk man who released her heavily but it was Songkran, and he managed to laugh at her bewildered expression.
Just then they passed a horde of prostitutes and she felt him being ripped from her. “I like this one!” screeched a passing market lady who rushed in to jump on him. “I like this one! Let’s keep this one!” They dunk his head in a bucket of white goo.
She screeched with laughter and even at something that silly, felt protective of him. “Brad!”
He was too busy being attacked. “Brad!” she tried to reach in and he opened his mouth to call out to her. That was a big mistake, he realized, as he received a handful of powder in his mouth. Spitting, coughing, and trying to breathe through nostrils blocked with powder he managed to wipe his stinging eyes clean. The prostitutes released him but not before a huge ******* screamed with glee at his straight nose and thin red lips, and reached forward giving his crotch a good grab. He screeched in genuine disgust and fear, had a moments feeling of guilt in case he had offended the ******* which was immediately wept away as he, no she, no it, yelped joyfully and massaged his **** before trotting off to his, no her, no its next victim.
Where was Emily? With his height, he managed to see a brown head that stuck above the other dark-haired and light-haired heads being jostled out of the street by the moving crowd. He ran to catch up and grabbed Emily’s hand as the group of teenagers tripped out of “Soi Cowboy”.  
They stood for a moment catching their breath. Zoey, a tiny little girl with a chest that threatened to put her out of balance, pushed her brown curls out of her face. A red glow was starting to spread over her cheeks.
Kat laughed scornfully, her wide smile spreading generously over her face. “Sunburn?! You white girl!”  
They had all been out around the streets since early morning and it was late in the afternoon now. Rose’s cheeks were flushed and the tip of Kat’s nose was a little pink herself. The rest of them, with their darker skin, had tanned slightly but unnoticeably. They laughed at Zoey for a short while. It was an interesting group of friends: all of them of mixed heritages from around the world with different backgrounds that became common in the world of International schools. It was alright to tease Emily’s honey skin; it was funny to crack jokes about Stefan’s hairiness; it was hilarious when Zoey tried to tan.
Emily shot a picture of everyone laughing: their clothes wet, their faces scrunched up, eyeliner smudged (Kat and Rose had lined their eyes with water proof kohl that of course wasn’t really waterproof), their cheeks and chin caked a crumbly white.
Kat and Zoey clambered over her shoulders, peering at the little digital screen of the water proof camera. “Ew! Gross!” yelled Kat who was only used to pictures of her lips rosy from lipstick, camera at a flattering angle with a bright flash from her professional equipment that made her black-lined green eyes sparkle like emeralds.
“Delete! I look sick!”
Even Zoey, who admired Kat’s photogenic ness to a great extent, could find no words of solace except to say, “Me too! I look gross! Delete! Now!”
Emily just laughed and said, “No you don’t.” Of course it wasn’t a type of picture they’d profile on Facebook, but all the same it was beautiful with their wild-looking and uninhibited faces and un-posing body shapes, curled up in laughter.
Zoey snatched the camera from her and they fiddled with the buttons till the picture was deleted. It was regretful, annoying, but not unexpected.
Emily rubbed her sore knees and noticed how Tom was still rubbing his neck sorrowfully with Stefan laughing at him, shaking his head wearily. Brad was holding onto her arm a little tiredly, Kat and Zoey had their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulder for leaning support and Rose and Emily’s younger brother, Jason, were standing together, staring absen
Raj Arumugam Oct 2010
Part 1 At the Saint’s Book Store (Singapore, 1970)

when I was just 15
and just after
a trip to the National Library
I saw a slim volume
at the Saint’s Book Store
(named after a TV series
and true to the borrowed name,
a second-hand book store)
and its spine said: Kama Sutra

Now that’s a title
they don’t have at the National library,
I mused
and I took it down off the shelf
and stood, agape -
transported to Ancient India
by the very seductive picture
on the cover page;
didn’t make me feel like a saint at all

but my reader’s instinct
got the better of me
and so I opened the book
in which the Introduction
ran boringly longer
than the main meat of the text
and so I went on to
own enigmatic words

This I must have-
I said to myself,
after only five pages of Vatsyayana
and the sticker label on the
used book replied: $2.50
I bought the book
and walked home
and had no lunch that day

Part 2 ***** Science

What are you reading?
asked little Somu,
a year younger than I was

It’s a Science book,
I said, turning away from him

If it’s a Science book,
the little rascal said,
why are you hiding it behind
another science book?

Mind your own business,
I said,
Hardly taking my eyes
off Vatsyayana’s classic

I’ll mind my own
if you tell me what it is;
otherwise dad
will come to know of it-
and you won’t be able to tell
him to mind his own business

Oh! I said, angry and afraid,
and I threw down my books
(the cover book and the hidden book).
You’re too young for such things.

But he looked at me
as only a dangerous blackmailer can
and I yielded to his request -
I would summarize aloud each chapter
for him as I finished reading each
(That’s the trouble when
fate throws you in
with siblings who don’t read)

And day in and day out
over the next few weeks
I summarized the Kama Sutra –
no, I don’t think I summarized,
I extemporized,
I added details, I confess –
for the benefit of non-reading Somu
that silly pumpkin of a brother
who didn’t understand a word of what I said!

Part 3: Weird History

That night as we lay
on our mats on the floor
Somu asked me:
You know…I was thinking.…
ever since you provided
your summary of the Kama Sutra
delivered in such melodramatic actor’s voice…
I’ve been wondering….Do you think Dad knows
the Kama Sutra?

Oh, I said immediately.
How would
dad know
about the Kama Sutra?
It’s been banned In India
since the middle ages.
He only knows
Hare Rama, Hare Rama…
Now, maybe it’d do you good
to repeat the mantra 100 times
and go to sleep…
You might end up in Vaikunta.

And then insomniac Somu said:
What’s that book you were reading
this afternoon
covered behind your
school History Text Book?

Oh God! Nothing escapes the eyes
of this sibling who came a year after me;
and I had to make an honest reply
or he’d pursue me to the ends of the earth:
Oh, it’s another book
I found at the Saint’s Book Store;
it’s called The Perfumed Garden;
it’s in Arabic and you won’t understand a word;
you can read it when you’re fifty
because that’s how long it’ll take me to translate the work

Somu, the silly sibling ever,
sat up on his mat and looked at me suspiciously:
When did you learn Arabic?
You can’t even read Tamil properly,
you monolingual Indian!

And irritated, I said:
Oh shut up and sleep…
Don’t you go digging into what I do.
I learn all sorts of things in my own time –
and you’re best, little brother,
to stick to Hare Rama, Hare Rama
Or Hara Hara, Siva Siva…

And for that,
the traitor of a brother told all our school mates
I was reading ***** Science
and weird History!

Part 4: The Puritans Come Home

What is a young boy
just turned fifteen,
said the outraged visitor to my father
doing with a copy of Kama Sutra?
And he pointed his bony finger
at me, sitting with my brother Somu
and his thirteen-year-old son Kittu;
we kids sat on the floor
and the dignified adults
sat elevated on the sofa

And he continued:
So, tell me,
what is a young boy like
that doing with erotica?
Is this the time for him?
This is the time for him to study
his textbooks and do his homework.
And the outraged father
pointed his finger at my sheepish father
and he continued:
Your son goes to the same school as my son –
and I’m afraid he’ll be a bad influence.
At History lessons and Literature class,
my son reports,
your boy asked the teachers why
they don’t teach Kama Sutra.
This is outrageous and crazy!

My father looked at me
but couldn’t see my eyes
thanks to my state-welfare
horn-rimmed glasses
and he said to the outraged visitor:
I don’t know…
He reads all sorts of stuff…
He discovers all these books
at the National Library
and bookshops…
He’s read Gandhi’s biography…
and now it appears
he’s discovered Kama Sutra…
Should we really stop him?

The uncertain father slumped in the sofa;
but the outraged father jumped up
dragged his son Kittu to the door
and he turned around and said:
You call these discoveries?
Get him to stick his nose
in his school textbooks!
He will come to no good!
He will bring you shame!
You call these discoveries?
I’m not coming here anymore –
and turning to his son
he said:
Don’t ever talk to that boy;
don’t you ever be near him!

And off they went,
Outraged Father and Trembling Son
into Dusty History.


My father and I looked at each other;
not a word was said –
and he is not here today
for a translation of what I write here now

As for my little brother
that traitor who had told Kittu,
I took both books
The Kama Sutra and The Perfumed Garden
and hit him smack on his head:
and he has remained
stunted physically and mentally ever since


What’s that thick book,
said Somu two weeks later,
on the shelf?

That’s Origin of Species
by someone called Charles Darwin,
I said.

Is it one of those ***** books?
he asked.

I think so, I said. I heard some religions
have it blacklisted
so it must be *****.

And what’s that one beside it?

That’s Shakespeare, I said. Complete Works.

Is it another of your ***** books?
said Somu.

Well, I said to this juvenile sibling
just a year younger than I.
There must be many ***** parts in the volume…
You can never escape dirt…it’s all part of life.
David Bryan Lao Apr 2018
***** old woman
Why do you smile so
When the world has turned its back on you
And left you shattered in pieces?

***** old woman
Why do you sing so
When various men have ***** - abused - you
And silenced your voice through the vilest means?

***** old woman
Why do you love so
When your posterity has been taken away from you
And your clan removed from the face of the earth?

***** old woman
Why do you laugh so
When food scraps are all you have to get by
And only at the mercy of passing strangers?

***** old woman
Why do you hope so
When the world is filled with sorrow and misery
And you, by far, have gone through so much?

The ***** old woman replied,

"It is as you say, my child,
The times have not been so kind to me
I have fallen more times than I can count
And I am distressed, truly

But you see, I still have life!
And where there is life, there is hope
With every fall, I rise up stronger
With every pain, I emerge wiser

And while convenience and comfort
Have long since left me
I will continue to fight
Until my last breath leaves me."
Never give up on life!
claire Jun 2017
        the sweaty, jacked-up summer is approaching quick
        fired from the mouth of april
        like a bullet from a handgun

       we are fast, beautiful
       ***** like gasoline on someone’s palm
       ***** like fences that hold gardens of shredded tires
       ***** like blood dried on the sidewalk in the shape of a
       tightened fist

       ***** sneakers and ***** hair
       with shampoo that never got washed all the way out

       ***** because of how we love


       with our hands on other girls’ knees and thighs
       like birds out of their cage
       or the statue of liberty punching her light
       into a sky that holds as much desire
       as it holds stars


       rough and sweet and fresh from hell
       crawling to emancipation
       just wanting to love
       just wanting to live

       just wanting to move her hair out of her face
       with our thumbs

     asking to be allowed to want
     what we are not supposed to have


       hot and sweaty like little kids under the covers
       with a flashlight reading
       harold and the purple crayon
       but there is no flashlight this time

       and no picture book
You was like,
need your help...
I was: Yes,

Help you Odo-Ban
and ***** jeans
my only soap.

Help you Odo-Ban
and ***** jeans
my only soap.

u V p

Those my biscuits,
Ban-dana Jean...
my comely soap.


Help you Odo-Ban
and ***** jeans
my only soap.

You want to be an "activist?"  Go live on the streets..Ben Franklin lived on the streets, Karl Marx did also, Davy Crockett, come play with nothing.
Edna Sweetlove Dec 2014
EDNA: Hello there, Dan my dear, please take a seat, but before you sit down, just let me put a plastic sheet over the chair.

DAN: Thank you so much, Mrs Sweetlove.

EDNA: Now, Dan, please tell me why you are known far and wide as Dan, Dan, the ***** Old Man. How did you come to acquire such a salubrious soubriquet? Don't spare us any of the more sordid details. My readers are all agog.

DAN: Well, there are three aspects to my dirtiness. Firstly, my sanitary arrangements and personal hygiene. How can I put this delicately? [scratches head in puzzlement and several lice are dislodged, much to Edna's distaste. She squirts them with super-strength LICEOKILL.] To be blunt, Edna, I don't wash much and I very seldom change my clothes. This means I smell quite strongly. And, as you will observe, my skin is quite grimy and unpleasant to behold; the boils and sores are not attractive to many people.

EDNA: Fortunately I am afflicted with a rather bad head cold at the moment, so I can't really whiff you too strongly. However, I can see your skin is disgusting and your clothes are a total disgrace. Tell me, is there any particular reason why you are so careless of your hygienic duties?

DAN: Well, I see it as a vicious circle. If I were to take a bath or a shower, I would only get ***** again quite soon. And anyway, getting dressed again in my old clothes means any olfactory benefit would be negated. Again, if I were to put on some clean clothes, they would only be rendered odorous by my unwashed body. And defecation and urination tend to get your lower parts ***** two or three times a day anyway, even if you wipe thoroughly which I don't. So what's the point, unless you want to waste all your life on synchronising cleansing activities? Also, between you and me, I quite enjoy the stench of my own unclean body. And it has several benefits: I always get a row of seats to myself at the cinema and I normally have no problem with queues when I go shopping: people tend to give way to me as a mark of respect.

EDNA: And the second aspect of your dirtiness?

DAN: May I talk to you freely about ***, Mrs Sweetlove?

EDNA: Oh yes, be frank! [nods eagerly] Be frank!

DAN: Well, let's put it like this: I am not very particular when it comes to ***. I can honestly say I have never ever turned down a ****** approach of any sort. I am, of course, bisexual and when I feel like a bit of impersonal *******, I nip down to the public lavatory in the park and have some there. What I normally do is wait by the ****** and whip out my grimy, stinking **** and flash it whenever someone comes in. I don't care who it is. What does it matter? Most people run away in horror, a few attack me and shove my face down a pan, but one or two let me **** them.

EDNA: What sort of people would that be, dear?

DAN: Usually tramps, the short-sighted, people with no sense of smell, degenerates, psychos, masochists, you know. A reasonably varied selection. Buggers can't be choosers. Who cares anyway? I've been arrested by the cops a few times, but they don't like to put me in their nice clean police car, so they usually let me go with a bit of a thumping. Which I quite like anyway, although it's cost me several teeth [shows hideous maw of rotting stumps].

EDNA: And how about when you feel like a little bit of the old hetero rumpy-pumpy action, Dan, my love?

DAN: To be honest, I don't get much rumpy-pumpy, even though that's probably what I'm most famous for. Speaking candidly, not many women fancy anyone as filthy as I am, even lady tramps have to draw the line somewhere. So I tend to have to be a bit pushy when I feel like a bit of female company. What I usually do is lurk around girls' schools, ladies' gyms, ballet dancing classes, hockey grounds, netball pitches, the park where the young mums push their babies' buggies, anywhere really where you get women and girls in reasonable numbers. When I see someone I fancy, which is anything female between sixteen and the grave, I just drop my pants and show them what I've got down there. They scream a bit but I can usually get a quick one off the wrist before they've run too far. I've been arrested a few times for that too, but it's a hazard of the game of love, I feel.

EDNA: [gulps excitedly] I think you mentioned three reasons why you are known as a ***** Old Man par excellence......

DAN: Yes, well the third one is a bit more personal. You see, I have a very sensitive stomach and I often get very bad indigestion, which means I **** and burp a lot. And I frequently ***** too, as you can see from the state of my trousers - this is probably a reflection of the fact that my kitchen is crawling with rodents and insects large and small. And did I mention this last bit? I really like eating my own snot in public [voids nostrils onto grimy paw and gobbles product thereof].

EDNA: I'd like to thank you, Dan, for sharing your opinions, emotions and ambitions with me and my readers here today [switches off tape recorder]. You truly are an unusually repellent *******. Get out of my lovely house.

taylor roff Mar 2013
I like to read ***** poems
In a clean pair of slacks
Dead sober
On my hands and knees

I like to read ***** poems
In brail
Fingers like travelers
Searching for mounds of filth

I like to read ***** poems
In church
Battling old women
In there Sunday war garments

But most of all
I love reading ***** poems naked
With hands  raised high
Screaming loudly
In hopes that some filth rubs off on my life
MeanAileen Mar 2017
my ***** secret
moral intoxication...
addicted to him
His touch gets me high
Paige Wolf Dec 2019
I’m suicidal.

Guys, I don’t get to say this too often without it being a hypothetical, BUT... I’m suicidal.

Did you hear me in the back? Did they hear me outside? Do you want me to say it louder?


Again? Do you want me to say it again?

I’m just messing with you guys! I know you don’t want me to say it.

I’m not an idiot. I can see you cringe and squirm in your seat. Don’t worry. I got you guys. I won’t say it too much.

I’ll prove it to you.

Let’s calm down for a second here. Take a deep breath. Get comfortable. This is not a public service announcement. This isn’t some after school special. I’m not a preacher nor do I ever plan to preach to you.

But I’m suicidal.

No one likes to hear it… So just give me a chance to prove it.

I’m already proving it in a way. Because as a suicidal person, I learned that I’m not allowed to talk about it. As a suicidal person, it’s like saying a ***** word.

Not a ***** word like **** or *****. ****. ******.

But it makes people feel *****.

When suicide is mentioned, I can see people rub their arms. They scratch the back of their neck. They fidget in their seat like I have covered them in ****.

So I’m sorry. But for a moment. I want you all to feel *****.

To see my truth, I not only need to splash my dirt onto you. I have to pull you deep down into the dirt with me. I need you to feel this way for the rest of the day.
Even when you go home and you hug your children, you hold your loved ones, and you’ve washed yourself in the lies that this could never happen to someone you care about

It’s going to stick behind your ears. You’ll feel it between your fingers. This smell will linger on your clothes. For a long time.

Just for a moment, you’re going to taste ****.

I’m sorry about that.

Do you guys want to hear a joke?

What’s the difference between being hungry and being *****?... it’s where you put the cucumber!

Have you heard that one?

Fine. But how about...

What’s the difference between a ****** and a drug dealer?... A ****** can wash and resell her crack.

I love telling that one. It kills almost every time.

No? Still not laughing?

How about…

Mickey Mouse walks into a divorce lawyers office. The lawyer says “You want to divorce your wife because she’s crazy?” and Mickey says “No! She’s ******* goofy.”

Ha! I knew I’d get some smiles. That one always works.

Does anyone feel better yet? Even just a little cleaner?

Because I don’t.

I carry jokes like a first aid kit and I bandage my wounds in satire.

When you see me drown, let me throw a punch line like a safety net. At least we both don’t have to die

Go home. Learn my jokes. Spray them like air freshener.

Pretend to be ok.

Do you think suicide is serious?

We all know it’s “serious” but no one ever explains why it’s serious.

Do you ever think about that?

Like, really think about it?

I was thirteen years old when I first told someone I was suicide and they treated it like I had brought a gun to school.

Like I had killed my dog with my bare hands.

Like I pulled my shirt up and sliced down my stomach just to show them my insides.

In a way I did. I did show them my insides. That was the first time I showed them all of me. But instead of stitching me up, they put a bandaid on it.

That’s what it is! It’s like I keep bleeding out and they keep putting bandaids on me. And when they run out, they’re like “****… You should feel better by now.”

They’re telling me “Why do I keep opening old wounds?” even though this pain hasn’t even had time to scab yet.

The last time I told my mother I was suicidal, I couldn’t say it in those words. We went on a walk, on new year's day.

It was the first walk we had taken together since I was a child. She was mad at me about something but I figured “It’s New Year. It’s ******* New Years, you know? It’s time to say it. It’s time to deal with it. I’m an adult. I can do it.”

But I didn’t put it in those words. I couldn’t just say “I’m Suicidal.” So I said “I don’t think I’m going to survive for much longer.”

And she rolled her eyes.

As a writer, it’s my job to find words. To make them so eloquent and so beautiful that they stick with you for the rest of your life. My words are supposed to stick.

But I can’t find words for such a pain…

You see, looking back on that, it was my fault.

As a suicidal person, I made the mistake of thinking just because she’s my mother, it mean she can’t smell the ***** word of suicide.

I live in a world of referrals.

If my parents can’t handle it, they will send me to my siblings.

If my siblings can’t handle it, they will send me to my friends,

From friends, I go to doctors, and then other doctors. And then specialists.

From specialists, I go to hospitals.

And then, ironically, I’ll go to special hospitals.

Mental facilities have become as arbitrary as wishing wells.

And I’ve emptied my pockets! I’ve emptied my wallets. But if I empty my heart I think they’re going to find me at the bottom of it.

When I’m sick and tired of all the referrals, they have the audacity to tell me that I have given up.

I gave up.

I stopped fighting.

But I am here to tell you that I am suicidal.

It is a *****, ***** word.

I’m also a lot of other things. I’m so many things.

I’m a daughter. And they take my beauty and they call it their reflections.

I’m a sister. But they took my loyalty, and they called it respect.

I’m a friend. They took my humor and they called it ecentric.

I’m a writer. So I took my pain and I made it into poetry.

But I am suicidal.

I am suicidal.

Don’t take my strength and call me a survivor.


Don’t let yourselves forget what **** smells like.
WistfulHope Nov 2014
Don't "talk *****" to me.

I don't want that,
Not nonchalant naughty nouns,
Or violent verbs,
Or anxious adjectives.

I want to be drippingly adorned and intrigued,
By adjectives that ache and torment,
By verbs that are vibrantly vital and tantalize.

I want to be left longfully lusting after lambent language.
I want phrases
that are fantastically formulated
to keep my attention.

— The End —