"drugging" poems
he tells me the
words she does
not care to read,
nor understand.
his words
are narcotics,
rolling thick
off the tongue,
fat and vain.
i tell him the
words she does
not care to read
nor understand.
my words
are flesh wounds,
festering and
upsetting
to the stomach.
he's a medical
overdose,
drugging
to numb the
brash and pain.
i'm an angry
hornet through
your heart
and your mind,
livid and
vindictively
stricken.
thick through
your veins,
eyes a blur
and head a fog,
he's a medical
overdose
with mind of
a syringe
and tongue
laced with
narcotics.
Apr 5, 2013
Apr 5, 2013 at 12:37 AM UTC
*Your heart brought with Amnesia.
To study it ,
I slid into your heart ,
making way through your tears
it was dark.
Placing a candle at the grave of your sorrows,
I stitched up your battered ,bleeding heart.
Tendering to the grave turned gardens,
I smuggled sunlight to your dandelion soul.
Drugging you 3 times daily with comfort,
was what I prescribed.
Nothing stays forever , so didn't your illness
and you don't remember me any-longer.
Happy laughter of love echoed ,
in the skies of your fist sized heart.
Wished you a healthy heart ahead,
only with the desire to treat it again .*
Jul 25, 2014
Jul 25, 2014 at 4:29 PM UTC
#*you came bearing words
a transparent heart
you said
bombs of love
exploding my defenses
gifts i embraced until
you drifted
memories flooded in
of betrayals past
i'd been there before
drugging narcissus
you played
further on my resonant soul
strummed to fine pitch
your favorite guitar
till bored with the tune
you cut
all the strings
i adjusted to silence
relished my gains, but then
you returned
to play me some more
and that's why
you see
i've bolted this door*#
Jun 15, 2016
Jun 15, 2016 at 2:27 PM UTC
I know sometimes I’m a little obsessive
Some might call it bipolar depressive
Random mood swings causing me to become manic obsessive
Shifts in energy changes making me become impulsively energetic
Got my mind spinning around causing me a psychotic racing catatonic lack of awareness
So used to being told to calm down by my family and old therapist’s
Now I’m just living and learning off of my own failures and life lessons
Creating my own values and building towards a better impending prospective future with all these thoughts, ideas, different reasons and reactions
Moments of self worth can often start to feel fleeting due to daily life experiences and my own expressions
Followed by changes in feelings and mixed emotional ambivalence
Rarely opening up to people because, I feel vulnerable and misunderstood constantly stressing
But the few times I do is when something about them resonates with me making me feel calm, safe and accepted
I believe it’s because of my past trauma, I have to try everyday to be a soul survivor
Old coping mechanisms through past risky behaviors shattered recking havoc
Drugging and drinking to drown out these demons
In the depths of despair, my inner demon finds solace, a dangerous comfort I must avoid
Getting back up on my own two feet going to meetings after meeting
Late insomniac nights with thoughts never fully slowing down
Followed once again the next day I can’t seem to drown out all of the sounds
All these troubled thoughts restless I am
A soul survivor I fight, but I often find it hard to stand
Picking myself back up
I’m just a man searching for a way to feel human again
Oct 17, 2023
Oct 17, 2023 at 1:37 PM UTC
Dearest jewels of my crown motherhood
Go to the nearest FBI office
Accuse all you call friends of a hate crime drugging you without you knowing to make you feel **** and think you are nuts hallucinogens and methamphetamine s do that
Do not go to psychiatrist they will trash you
your Mom and remove your parental rights forever a Susan and Arthur and Elizabeth already bought you from Haralsmbios a human trafficking psychopath sadist torturer like kiriaki and many more in Greece
Those you trust here in USA hide Crimes they are a team of murderers and thieves since 1980
They assimilated Jeff and John through drugs
Free yourselves.
They all are your deadly enemies they document all lies half truths use assassination of character and fear of your Mom to hide their crimes
They are who lie divide you and plan to ****** your Mom too for financial gain.
They made credit cards with your name in it to finance murders for hire ..
And tell you it's Mom buying thousands of dollars in clothes that's a lie from Satan
They are black mailing you.
to extort money to **** Mom.
~~
Remove your blind folds fight for your freedom take your children run to FBI office use me as a living witness I am on your side.
I love you all my children.
~~
~My Story poem.~
The greatest deception is calling everyone
a friend
Today I admit that from ancient times
am blessed to have had his intimate
piece of heart
thus my life was worth while.
I declare that even here
I was blessed with this
Outer Limits De-Javus;
~~
I am forever a grateful Mom,
granted to sacrifice my
love, my life along with everyone
I ever loved the most.
There's still justice to be granted; triumph waived
with defeat acknowledged.
Not only have I waived and yielded to every misfortune
but was trashed to the eleven winds as my evil enemy
lied to divide me among my dearly beloved offspring
planning as in above the law to profit from my demise.
~~~
By: Karijinbba
All Rights Reserved.
Jun 10, 2023
Jun 10, 2023 at 1:32 AM UTC
I am trying to forget you
Really,
I am
I have been drugging my memory
Repeatedly
Every night
Drinking from bottles
Filled with liquid strong enough
For me to untaste you
I still do
It's funny how
Nobody mentions touch
As the most important sense
Associated with memory
I still feel you everywhere
Your hands on my skin
I am trying to erase them
Your fingerprints must be
Permanent ink
They are no longer visible
But I can still see them
I tie my tongue in knots
So that when I choke
On words
It will be on my own terms
I still cough up yours
I am trying to forget you
The way your voice sounded in my ear
Breathless and humming
I can still hear the ringing
You are the melody
I cannot get out of my head
The music that I cannot stop singing
I am trying to erase
The parts of you drawn onto me
I have gotten four tattoos
In the past three months
And two of them remind me of you
I am trying to forget you
But I purposely don't try
Hard enough
If I really wanted to
I would destroy the proclamations of passion
I once wrote to you
If I really wanted to
I would delete the pictures sent back and forth
Like ransom letters
Thinking my body could force you
To surrender your heart
I used to consider swearing
To be a holy thing
You swore on so much
That it is no longer sacred
Humans are incapable of certainty
I have bent my pinky fingers in half
Just to come close
To believing promises
But people
Always let you down
And disappointment
Is inevitable
Your salt lips
And iodine mouth
Left a burning sensation
From every cut that you made
In mine
I am trying to forget you
And the way you said my name
How you only said it
Quietly through phone calls
Directly into my ear
As if you didn’t want anyone else
To hear you say it aloud
I am trying to forget you
But it is not easy
The moving on
Is a crossword puzzle
I do not know the last answer to
There are fifteen spaces left
That I don't know how to
Fill
With anything other than you
There is so much empty
Left over
It is much easier to hold on
To memories
And remnants
Of what could’ve been
Than it is to accept
A definite ending
Our future
May be dead
But you are still
Very much alive in me
If I really tried
I bet I could forget you
But I don't think I want to.
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 2:19 PM UTC
The vibration
The pacing
The loving
The hating
The spending
Never ending
The thoughts they keep racing
The drinking
The drugging
The 5am clubbing
The meaningless sexing
The endless regretting
The lying
The cheating
The I hate this feeling
The panic
No sleeping
Anxiety streaming
The shaking
The fright
The continuous night
The struggle with words
I just want to be heard
The thoughts they're racing
The thoughts they're racing
The thoughts they're racing
Paranoia
Hallucinations
It's been weeks since I've slept
The walls seem to be screaming from the secrets they've kept
I'm over the edge
I've lost all control
This madness is driving me off of the road
But maybe down there I'll find some peace
All I really wanted
Was to go to sleep
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 12:56 PM UTC
I've forgiven myself for these nights of endless sleep
Till the sunrise and the moon showed size
I was sad.
I've forgiven myself from excluding of humanity, starving myself, drinking alone, and drugging my soul
From talking to God in that violent tone
These days of depression, oppression and disgrace
You would try to hold me but empty I was
Made me coffee every morning
Held me tight while I panicked, always keeping yourself cool
Writing is how we communicated, reading how I excluded myself
This summer I read so many books
I don't even know how the world looks anymore
My God is gone
My skin is white
My chest in pain
And you, right there
I'm sorry I didn't let you embrace me, I needed to myself
"We are in this together"
I'm sorry, I forgot.
Dec 23, 2013
Dec 23, 2013 at 2:13 PM UTC
Swallowing pills
again
&
again
Trying my best to get high again on the feeling, drugging myself up to remember the feeling of your lips, your warm touch, and inhale your deodorant, that succulent scent.
I want to be sleepless, and think in the night. And be happy, or sad, either one works
But I guess I just want to remember I’m alive
Happy,
Sad,
Nostalgia that drains me, happy memories turning into sour nightly thoughts.
I think of the dark night sky, and I thought there was once stars in your eyes, yes, maybe.
You made me higher than I’d ever been, and I miss you my dear dear happy pill
Oct 12, 2018
Oct 12, 2018 at 3:53 AM UTC
I withhold this trophy tonight
for the worry you lag on and on
a sack you drag as it parties
owning your back, breaking the light
I withhold my hand and stop the words
for your voice seeps the air I breath
a strangle of the life that smiles
tugging me in the abyss of your devoid
I withhold my trust as I can't censor
the irk that traps and can't be tamed
a mafia that drives you crazy 24 hours
drugging me in a cage of no care
I withhold my question about our intentions
the drive that makes me explode
as I can't blame or save your paranoia
telling a fiction in the reality of stolen memories
May 25, 2016
May 25, 2016 at 5:41 PM UTC
Inside, Your cancer's beating heart
My ******* shakes, dirt dust gone
I swipe the sand away. For every ounce of ****
Laughing out meaty red raw steaks and size zero thighs.
- For everythingsobad. You rattle my dream box with your sweet blue face and your gauges for neither being an idiot or being human. Too cute of you booboo. Captivity claws at you, you big bafoon, intolerant, shuffling your predicates back and forth during your 12am nonsensical ******** So long as it doesn't interfere with your curfew.
Like soggy altered-state popcorn. Your butter catches more flies than knives, the inauthentic gestures spattering over the rhythms and rolls of your fingertips is torture to watch. Kitchen countertop influenza. A tired dictionary of sad words, poor misfortunes, tired eyelids, silty and sandy crusty inside corners of the eyes
.rearing privilege
countertop crawlers. inaudible coos used by muses who can't keep their musings from tangling the long distance dial tone soaring through the ears like an Italian operatic melodrama. A horse, three brides, and a funeral. One woman, a sick child, blindness, blinding caused by toxins of the body stuck inside your gelatinous fishlike eyelids. Where's there an eye bib and a lance when you need one? A nifty electric toothbrush shank with extra reach and plaque protection. You're the kitchen sink they threw in, a budget meeting with a data analysis staph infection. A government where nobody wins. All the kids grow up with thin skin and an aorta with no ventricles in it. It's like the cynical prison system that we had to survive in our 8th grade basement dungeon. Thundering, curmudgeons drugging sluggishly, **** teen thugs. Preteen pornstars sluicing cash through their meaty canals, ******* the ******** and ******* the back bare in a messy afternoon of **** ******* Crusty infectious rumors made worse by brothers and moms, eating handfuls of Norco just to keep the family strong.
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 7:16 PM UTC
feelin' wild like runnin in the trees jumpin from the slums of the mind the oily quick sand hands called silence and control, america, how i wish u'd unbigbrother urself and support the artists, but that would require slime'ing away from big bank funding, corporates drugging us zombies called humanity... to be an artist at times can be so liberating and so uncertain. hello eviction notice, hello
Mar 30, 2010
Mar 30, 2010 at 3:18 PM UTC
Surviving beneath bypass
Cardboard ripping, some spyglass
Thin covering, protection
Sharpening knife, perfection
Past life professional man
Bad karma, God, dealt sad hand
Panhandling corner right here
Homemade sign makes purpose clear
People ignoring, glower
Certainly love hot shower
Having nothing accept rags
Don't own anything, no bags
Eating something, drugging, *****
What's needed most cannot choose
Spent long hot days begging cash
Got ***** finished dining trash
Trodded back to cardboard home
Peeking out feeling all alone
Oct 3, 2013
Oct 3, 2013 at 4:52 PM UTC
You're talking in circles
And ever so fast
Lie after lie
You're trying to pass
Drinking and Drugging
Are making it worse
You think that it's helping
It's really a curse
You want money from me
That I can't do
You think that it's love
If only you knew
True love is resisting
Your pleas in the night
Your angry words hurt
I don't want to fight
If I ever give in
To your devils I fear
It will **** you for sure
And we'll both disappear
May 24, 2023
May 24, 2023 at 8:35 AM UTC
If the streets could talk they’d tell me to come back to them, that I need them, I’m truthfully not “better off without” them.
If I could respond to the streets I’d say I don’t need you. This is my battle and I’m at rock bottom. I can only go up, and as I go up… I will no longer see you because I’m twelve hundred percent sure that I am better off without you. I don’t need to be high to fulfill the darkest parts of my soul. I don’t need to be high to be happy, content, or musically talented. It isn’t aesthetic. It’s not aesthetic. It. Is. Not. Aesthetic.
If the streets could talk they’d say **** you for becoming sober. That’s the worst choice you could’ve made in years. That decision is worse than trying to **** yourself. See the streets would rather see you dead from addiction, as opposed to becoming sober.
Well, **** you for making me want to become sober. **** you for making me want to die. And honestly, ***** you for everything you’ve torn from me. From sending me to jail as a tiny seventeen-year-old to making me off myself a good 4 times just ‘cause I couldn’t find drugs.
The streets would even go as far as to say: “rip everyone off, do bunches of drugs, leave everyone dry around you, and call it a day. Then sleep the high off, and next time you have an appointment, come to it high. #YOLO”
Y’anno what? YOLO is one ******** phrase. I live once, you’re right, Mr.Streets. But I want to be sober the majority of this living. I’m 18 and a half and have so much further to go in life. I want to become an addictions art therapist and I want to be at Zoe and Eden’s weddings. I want so much in life. None of which concerns the streets.
“Don’t listen to that cliche music, says the streets. Y’anno? That Macklemore **** that’s all about becoming clean? Eminem? Nah. None of that. You listen to music that glorifies drugs.” says the streets.
Also, if it takes listening to “Starting Over” by Macklemore 20 times a day and Dave’s Song by Whitney another 30 times a day, I’ll do it. Because at least I’ll be sober. Singing is something that brings me utter joy. As is writing and painting. And in order to do my best. I need to be pretty **** sober.
“No cigarettes do not count as addiction. Want to know what does? Buying pills with your disability checks. Now that ***** ******* great. **** you for trying to get clean.” the streets say.
Bro. I’m bro-ing to you because we’ve reached that point of nonsense. You don’t get it, do you? I need to not spend my minimal money on drugs. Yes, cigarettes are a drug. I’ll get there with quitting those too. Instead of drugging myself up, I need to dye my hair, watch slam poetry, and sing. Sing. sing. Sing. Sing until my heart is full and complete.
Jun 23, 2019
Jun 23, 2019 at 11:29 AM UTC
I dream of a life living in hell. It's insane I know, but I love picturing myself in bruises and more scars than I already have. I fantasize of someone kicking me in the face, mutilating myself and drugging every last inch of my brain with more memories that can stimulate my being traumatized. Everyone dreams of a happy, non-problematic life, truth be told I do too, but there are just moments were I picture a person smothered in pity and suicide.
I take hours driving into nowhere. I leave at dawn or in the middle of the night and have long conversations with a lover who craves for lust as much as I do. But it will always be her or maybe him and I. Just the two of us, driving towards utopia but mistaking the roads and ending up in an opposite world.
I dream of having *** that will make me feel alive. On the road, in the middle of nowhere, abandoned houses, motels, bathroom stalls and bedrooms that smell of old newspapers and cardboards. My partner scratching me as I bleed. I dream of a him and a her, a ****** up version of me, filled with tattoos and scars, who drown themselves in ***** and cigarettes, and someone who thinks just as I do. They choke me with words, and penetrations. Maybe fingers and wet lips. I always give in, and they are always in control.
I dream of crying on their necks or shoulders, releasing my anger and all the heat into their kisses and lust. I dream of him or her, finding me, a little too late, in a bathtub filled with a lifeless and breathless body. And they will mourn over me and join me later on, on the journey.
It's sick of me, for someone to think this way, maybe I'm just too ****** up, maybe I need help, but I guess these are my horrible fantasies, of a tragic life I crave for. A world where no one cares and thinks about me except maybe for that person. A world where I dream of killing myself and breathing in drugs to help me forget about the perfect life I am in.
But that world does not exist. I live in this one where I am me. I have scars, I smoke, I eat, I breathe, I talk, I laugh, I'm happy and alive. That world is just another one of my desires and fantasies. Another definition of the word "living"
n.j.
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 1:03 PM UTC
But one day when futures are bright
And school children dress in Sunday best
Great Machines will rise above the smoke
Great Buildings will rise above the smog
Great Minds will remain buried deep in humming labs
Scientist and machines
Gears and cogs
Rusting in the fluorescent
Glow
Of progress
Boys will
Girls will
Fight the good fight
Of human being
The Kissing on each other
The Drugging with each other
Afternoons and jumped fences
Just to feel each others secrets
Boys will
Girls will
Be just as wrong
And just as bad
And will grow to say
Good boys and Good Girls Never do those things
Oct 23, 2011
Oct 23, 2011 at 4:30 AM UTC
lost in the desert of noise
eating greasy gobs
pain is the penalty of life
drugging in the hotel bathroom
spitting out the window
trashing all there is
complaining about the ****** mess
screaming no i didn't do this
Jan 12, 2022
Jan 12, 2022 at 9:05 PM UTC
i saw her and she cleared my sinuses
and my mouth went dry
when she walked up to me
and slipped her killer thighs next to mine
and whispered softly in my ear
heavy
fresh
breath
i smell her winterfresh
Bold.
i feel it tickle my neck
and linger under my lobe
her message wasn't that long
but she stretched it out
like she's stretchin all over me
deep in my
personal space
but i find that i really,
really,
(really)
don't mind
she fits me
like a puzzle piece
makes me feel relaxed
almost sleepy
but with senses more acute
im in a dreamlike state
like she's drugging me
and i suppose she is
high off thoughts of her unclothed promises
her lips stick together
and words drip slowly from them
and waver in the air
hesitant to leave
those two juicy
(those too juicy)
lipglossed lemon drops
of heaven
this girl is trouble-full
rather then troublesome
and oooooo
how i like it
she's the bad chick
who doesn't mind it
when you tell her so
and sort of likes it
when you choke her throat
if just a little
she's a force of nature
and my favorite kind
of riddle
Sep 12, 2012
Sep 12, 2012 at 6:07 PM UTC
Haling down a cab that's going far too fast,
standing on the roadside as it's flying past
turn and watch the tail lights as the next one's slowing down
Picking up the pieces that were left behind
Thought that you were broken but I've come to find
all these things were welded into something of a cabbie's crown
you were cheap, you were easy,going my way, going ******
not the Ritz, hotel cheesy,down in Helluva, that's Hell
then you prayed, and you pondered, and at once your sins were laundered
now your past won't weigh you down,looks like you're holding up quite well
once incarcerated for a job you did
spent a year in prison, you were just a kid
didn't even know enough to cover up the video
the drinking and the drugging and the life you knew
da pimpsters and da players with da cooties who
left you feeling ***** but I see you've got a whole new show
you were free,you were lazy, going my way,going crazy
almost pushin' up a daisy,you were halfway home to Hell
then you prayed.and you pondered,and at once your sins were laundered
now your past won't weigh you down, I see you're holding up quite well
Choking on the ashes of your history
how you got away from them a mystery
the gas was on the burners babe, and someone blew the pilot out
so now you drive a taxi for the NYC
working nights, you tell me, "no one rides for free"
Got to hand it to you, you're a hacker, but you've worked it out
you were rough,you were noisy, going my way, back to Joisey
going anywhere, but Boise,not just anywhere, but Hell
then you prayed, and you pondered,and at once your sins were laundered
now your past can't weigh you down, you wear your cabbie crown quite well.
Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 9:51 AM UTC
Let me be the Bonnie to your Hyde
I can be the Z to your Scotty
Let's, let's ruin each other baby
Arms and fingers locked
Drugging the other down
We're two gnarled bodies, writhing on the ground
No morphine needed
We're both about the pain
Inhaling you fast
You're my line of pixie dust
I fly to fall down
Faith? Hope? I just need to suffer now.
You're the apple tree splinter
Poking my eye so I can't see.
The mirror on your door is me
And the fairest is anyone but you.
I'm your painting mr. Gray
Hide me in the attic; can't throw me away
Let's, let's ruin each other baby
Oh wait we already did or do.
These brass scales are getting heavy,
It's me for you
And do you hear that sound?
It's our siren lullaby.
We crash into each others'arms
Tied to each others' masts;
Drugging each other down
There's the frog and the water-sound.
We're one, we're done, well that was fun.
Sep 10, 2012
Sep 10, 2012 at 9:51 PM UTC
_They say to stop being sad
About the same thing
Now I'm sad about everything
Maybe I don't know a good thing
Til it's gone
So I try to hold on
To everything
Everything_
My head is screaming
It's screaming to tear apart
My heart
If I don't let it out
It'll continue to shout
Inside my head
Inside my head
Screaming
Screaming
Not for death?
Then for what
For what
Nobody believes me
Nobody sees me
Nobody hears me
They think I'm ok
I just have too much to say
Too much to say
In a day
They ask
How can I be sick?
You look ok
It makes me sick
They think that way
_They say to stop being sad
About the same thing
Now I'm sad about everything
Maybe I don't know a good thing
Til it's gone
So I try to hold on
To everything
Everything_
Nobody sees
*** they don't want to believe
I'm not cutting myself
I'm not drugging myself
I'm not killing myself
So I must be ok
It's simply not that way
I've heard it my entire life
I've been ignored
Told I'm fine
Professionals and
Family
They don't know
How they've
****** me
To screaming
Inside my head
Screaming
It won't stop
Til I let it out
This is my healing
My art
Just like me
It's torn apart
Ignored
Tortured
For truth
Tortured
For attention
Never to mention
How badly
How strongly
I fight
The urge
Every night
To drink myself to death
To try something crazy
To throw myself from the ledge
Maybe a needle would help
Maybe the guilt
Wouldnt be felt
Maybe I can be dealt
with
I try every day
As I tear my skin away
To be okay
I'm not
I'm not
I'm not *******
Okay
I'm insane
I know this
I rationalize this
But it's not
Bliss
It's not easy
Nothing can please me
The screaming
Keeps coming
Until it's quiet
When it's quiet
I'm sad
But I'm quiet
I'm alone
I'm in bed
Stuck to my phone
Empty
Empty
Nobody gets me
....
_They say to stop being sad
About the same thing
Now I'm sad about everything
Maybe I don't know a good thing
Til it's gone
So I try to hold on
To everything
Everything_
The screaming comes
I then become
Annoying
Crying
Buying
Lying
Dying
Until
I write
I write
It needs to be let out
I feel I never
let the deepest parts
Out
The right way
The right way
How can I say it
I'm paying for it
The lies I tell
The way I held
Myself up
I'm just a silly
Goofy
Eccentric nuisance
I don't need help
I don't need felt
Listened to
Heard
I can be
Ignored
It's in me
Swirling all around me
Tearing apart my body
I want to scream
I want to run away
I'm always running
Running
I hate running
What am I running to?
Sometimes I think
Death
But I'm terrified
Of nothingness
I want to release
Open my flesh
Cut me
Shoot me
Gun me
Let me misbehave
Let me show you
The cave
I live in
The maniac
I fight
I am not winning
I'm not sinning
I'm only leaning
Closer
Closer
Closer to
Pure insanity
I fight so hard
I get no credit
Because I never let it
Show
Never let it
Show
I never let it
Go
Never can
I let everything
Strand
Me
Hurt me
And I keep it
I hold it
_I don't know a good thing
Til it's gone_
So I hold on
To everything
But it's wrong
Some things
Are bad
Bad
Bad
I'm going
Mad mad
Mad
From the screaming
But nobody's listening
Maybe I should run
Maybe I should cut
Maybe I should fill my gut
With poison
Give me one reason
Why
Why
If I don't try to die
Die
Die
Nobody listens to me
Cry
Cry
Cry
_They say to stop being sad
About the same thing
Now I'm sad about everything
Maybe I don't know a good thing
Til it's gone
So I try to hold on
To everything
Everything_
How can I let go
Let go
How can I show
Show
The pain inside
The reasons I cry
Without hurting myself
Without losing myself
Without
All this hell ?
Can anybody tell
...
Maybe they can
They just...
_Don't care_
May 21, 2023
May 21, 2023 at 1:56 AM UTC
She's spinning
swirling
cyclic dancing
laughing as she's undermining
all her chances
slip through her hands and
she's still smile -
smiling.
Hunting
hurting
rhythmic burning
up and under iron churning
she sees hell
too far to tell
and she's still smile -
smiling.
Loving
drugging
pear tree smuggling
through the leaves
and water bubbling
and lying there
above the ground
floating
holding
not a sound
she tips up
her head on hold
and she's still smile -
smiling.
Plucking
clucking
back-woods *******
but she's too gone
to know it's wrong
her fight is lost
the stars are crossed
and she's still smile -
smiling.
Mar 12, 2012
Mar 12, 2012 at 3:51 PM UTC
Things she's good at...
Hmmm, let's see.
Talking, and napping, and watching TV,
Whining, and crying, and sighing again.
Again, and again, and over again.
Oh crap, this poem, it's about a princess you see,
But so far I've written it about my kitten, Winnie.
My real princess is Ashley, Ash, so lovely.
But don't make her mad or she might even throw things.
Kidding, I'm kidding! Well, I guess I'm really not.
But back to the point, where we first got caught.
His name was Gage, my good friend of youth.
Immature and reckless, he lost her like ****
Yeah, that's right, he dated her first..
But with stupidity he lost her, almost like a curse.
Or was it a blessing, a blessing you see.
Not a blessing for him, but a blessing for me.
We met once again, this time a new friend,
His name was Alex, and that's where it ends.
But that's okay, that story is old,
The story of us is about to unfold.
We met before drinks, shots to be exact,
She took so many and convinced her drugging was fact.
Fast forward now, past the times of drunk.
To the time where I, well, I thought and I thunk.
Girl after girl, I'd dated them all.
From Leanne to Lauren, short and tall.
Just over two years of stagnation and pain,
I found that I actually had much left to gain.
Remembering Ashley and the brightness she held,
I randomly reached out and all of a sudden an end came to my hell.
We texted and talked, sexted and sulked,
We found love within each other, something neither of us had felt.
And there it was, almost two years exact to this date.
That I met and fell in love, with my one and only soul mate.
So there it is, the story of my princess,
nothing more, nothing less.
But now, you see, I have two princesses with me.
One's named Ashley and the other Winnie.
I'll love them forever, and long after that,
my beautiful Ashley and calico cat.
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 11:20 PM UTC