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"dunno" poems
Who threw the silver dollar up into the tree? I didn’t said the little lady who sews and grows every day paler-paler she sits sewing and grow- ing and that’s the truth, who threw the ripe melon into the tree?you got me said the smoke who runs the elevator but I bet two bits come seven come eleven mm make the world safe for democracy it never fails and that’s a fact; who threw the bunch of violets into the tree?I dunno said the silver dog, with ripe eyes and wagged his tail that’s the god’s own and the moon kissed the little lady on her paler-paler face and said never mind,you’ll find But the moon creeped into the pink hand of the smoke that shook the ivories and she said said She Win and you won’t be sorry And The Moon camelalong-along to the waggy silver dog and the moon came and the Moon said into his Ripe Eyes and the moon Smiled ,so
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19.3k
Who
"What's one of your favorite hobbies?" "I dunno.. taking an eighth of 'Shrooms and proceeding to clean the house once each few months is a pretty fun and enlightening hobby."
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Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 5:52 PM UTC
Hobbies
the frustration I had after failing to bring myself to ****** for the tenth time this past week makes me more furious than depressed seriously my *** drive has always been high as soon as I got over the shame society places on women for enjoying their sexuality I have always used ************ as a release relieves stress leaves me relaxed and content or should I say, left me feeling that way usually it was once a day fairly frequent but, it matched my *** drive's needs what the **** is wrong with me I have tried imagining, watching, reading, looking at every form of erotica that exists I have searched through everything I can find from **** ****** stories, comics and my search history will let you know that I've searched everything from **** to ****** to interracial lesbian forced ******* and things worse than that e v e r y t h i n g used to take me, oh, I dunno maybe three minutes with my ******** after around an hour is when I give up now I even bought a different ******** NO RELEASE NO PASSION GONE what is WRONG WITH ME oh yeah - depression I mean I knew it was bad when video games no longer had appeal that was enough games have been a passion and a hobby of mine since I was five the other hobby I started a bit older than five but you stole that one, too after depression beat the **** out of me on Tuesday I thought that was it thought since the next morning I awoke without the urge to **** myself it was over nope you have robbed me of the simplest things in my life that give me pleasure no more wriggling moaning spasming the tingling sensation that starts in my toes and makes its way up the length of my body the warmness that follows with it the satisfaction slight smile snuggly sleepy post ****** me I miss her give her back I miss my life give it back this isn't ME for ***** sake! I am a ****** witty humorous creature full of passion looking for opportunities to get myself off! not this depressed apathetic vessel without soul. you won't stop until you have everything in my life you won't stop until you put my soul in your mouth chew grind crush it your saliva breaks me down spit me out please I am fighting for you to cough me up regurgitate the essence of me let me put myself back inside this body please please no you won't stop you will eat my soul until ever fiber protein ounce of health I had is now inside of you, depression cold-hearted *****
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Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 6:10 AM UTC
************ VIDEO GAMES AND DEPRESSION
the frustration I had after failing to bring myself to ****** for the tenth time this past week makes me more furious than depressed seriously my *** drive has always been high as soon as I got over the shame society places on women for enjoying their sexuality I have always used ************ as a release relieves stress leaves me relaxed and content or should I say, left me feeling that way usually it was once a day fairly frequent but, it matched my *** drive's needs what the **** is wrong with me I have tried imagining, watching, reading, looking at every form of erotica that exists I have searched through everything I can find from **** ****** stories, comics and my search history will let you know that I've searched everything from **** to ****** to interracial lesbian forced ******* and things worse than that e v e r y t h i n g used to take me, oh, I dunno maybe three minutes with my ******** after around an hour is when I give up now I even bought a different ******** NO RELEASE NO PASSION GONE what is WRONG WITH ME oh yeah - depression I mean I knew it was bad when video games no longer had appeal that was enough games have been a passion and a hobby of mine since I was five the other hobby I started a bit older than five but you stole that one, too after depression beat the **** out of me on Tuesday I thought that was it thought since the next morning I awoke without the urge to **** myself it was over nope you have robbed me of the simplest things in my life that give me pleasure no more wriggling moaning spasming the tingling sensation that starts in my toes and makes its way up the length of my body the warmness that follows with it the satisfaction slight smile snuggly sleepy post ****** me I miss her give her back I miss my life give it back this isn't ME for ***** sake! I am a ****** witty humorous creature full of passion looking for opportunities to get myself off! not this depressed apathetic vessel without soul. you won't stop until you have everything in my life you won't stop until you put my soul in your mouth chew grind crush it your saliva breaks me down spit me out please I am fighting for you to cough me up regurgitate the essence of me let me put myself back inside this body please please no you won't stop you will eat my soul until ever fiber protein ounce of health I had is now inside of you, depression cold-hearted *****
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196
I was born on November 30th , I hear that makes me a Saggitarius. I dunno what that means. I  know how to swim, and I'm a sucker for a guy with a nice smile And nice words. I'm still learning how to whisper sweet nothings I'm often loud at times when I should be quiet I'm often quiet at times when I should be loud I keep holding back or letting it all out at the wrong time. I like sweet drinks... a lot. I've been told that I give pretty bad hugs People say that it feels like I'm trying to escape Well I don't like letting people close. Especially close enough to hear me breathe. I have this odd fascination with things like time machines and technology, I assume it's because I like to figure out how things work and fix them. Am the same way with people, like to know what's coming before it does. Love usually lasts a few moments, That's also why I tend to fall in love with men Who would never love me back I know it sounds crazy, but it's actually much saner than it seems And to be honest, I think it's safer that way See relationships, they often remind me that I'm not afraid of letting go. But I'm scared of what's gonna happen The moment that my body hits the ground I'm clumsy. I usually trip when am following my feelings. I landed on my pride and it shattered like a mirror i check daily. Now I can't even tell who's trying to give me a compliment or just trying to get into my pants. I've never been into martial arts but I have all these bruises, I got from beating myself up over things I can't fix I know it sounds weird but sometimes, I wonder what the voices in my head say when am asleep. I wonder what the doors would do if they found out About all the things that I've done when they are closed. I've got a trash can that's overflowing with really, really obnoxious mistakes And a dump site in my closet with all the skeletons. You'll trap me in a corner and insist I get help. Hi, my name is Em, I enjoy ice cream and yoghurt, people watching And figuring out how to make them work. I allow myself to cry more than I need to, from letting all the wrong people in. I have solar-powered energy, I have a battery-operated heart, It flickers and dies from overuse. My hobbies include rewriting my life story, hiding behind poems, And trying to convince myself that I do matter to someone. I don't know much, but I do know this I know that if you don't have standards, you won't be treated right and be happy. I know God is still reworking my faults and flaws, I'm a unique work in progress.
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Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 6:15 AM UTC
My honest poem( inspired by Rudy Francisco)
I was born on November 30th , I hear that makes me a Saggitarius. I dunno what that means. I  know how to swim, and I'm a sucker for a guy with a nice smile And nice words. I'm still learning how to whisper sweet nothings I'm often loud at times when I should be quiet I'm often quiet at times when I should be loud I keep holding back or letting it all out at the wrong time. I like sweet drinks... a lot. I've been told that I give pretty bad hugs People say that it feels like I'm trying to escape Well I don't like letting people close. Especially close enough to hear me breathe. I have this odd fascination with things like time machines and technology, I assume it's because I like to figure out how things work and fix them. Am the same way with people, like to know what's coming before it does. Love usually lasts a few moments, That's also why I tend to fall in love with men Who would never love me back I know it sounds crazy, but it's actually much saner than it seems And to be honest, I think it's safer that way See relationships, they often remind me that I'm not afraid of letting go. But I'm scared of what's gonna happen The moment that my body hits the ground I'm clumsy. I usually trip when am following my feelings. I landed on my pride and it shattered like a mirror i check daily. Now I can't even tell who's trying to give me a compliment or just trying to get into my pants. I've never been into martial arts but I have all these bruises, I got from beating myself up over things I can't fix I know it sounds weird but sometimes, I wonder what the voices in my head say when am asleep. I wonder what the doors would do if they found out About all the things that I've done when they are closed. I've got a trash can that's overflowing with really, really obnoxious mistakes And a dump site in my closet with all the skeletons. You'll trap me in a corner and insist I get help. Hi, my name is Em, I enjoy ice cream and yoghurt, people watching And figuring out how to make them work. I allow myself to cry more than I need to, from letting all the wrong people in. I have solar-powered energy, I have a battery-operated heart, It flickers and dies from overuse. My hobbies include rewriting my life story, hiding behind poems, And trying to convince myself that I do matter to someone. I don't know much, but I do know this I know that if you don't have standards, you won't be treated right and be happy. I know God is still reworking my faults and flaws, I'm a unique work in progress.
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51
Its all just words No faces No looks, no clothes, no smell A simple connection It could have been anybody But it wasn’t It started off as a hobby Something to keep boredom at bay By now you’re junior olympics... At least It can be as flawless as beach glass Or jagged and farspread like the trees still dieing I never know what to expect Excitement Misunderstanding Seriousness Interest Laughter Understanding Awkwardness Distracted An idea ... Clearly I could continue It’s like my little escape hole A therapist that Actually understands and wants to We just click Alined by the sun Some would say But I dunno if that’s true All I know is what I feel Should I not feel what I feel? Do I feel what I feel? Is what I feel real? Or is it fake Is it a lie? Or should I make it one I don’t know what’s best How can I I’m new at this remember All I know are the words of the known Who are unknown to me in one world And an empty chair in the next I sit down and wait patiently Until it’s finally my turn, here is where I’ll sit There is no shame finding comfort in the little things the chair offers Its smooth silky surface The wine stain down the middle the dots that resemble a smile in the corner You don’t forget what you know so well You open up your palm A baby snake inside He doesn't take it He doesn't **** it on the spot He doesn't grimace with disgust He doesn't burst out in laughter He picks it up and cradles it in his hands And sets it free Back into the world where it belongs And then he gives you a dalia You take it and tuck it behind his ear as something to be admired He blushes He needs you too Maybe But its real Almost too real So you push it away It’s impossible It might not even be close to what you think it might be Forget And stay silent Hey We start again A haha here A smiley face too Climbing up the uncertain mountain that has never been climbed before The chance of falling high But you like the chase And for now It’s enough You don’t really care if you summit anyway A possible “when” always dangling Inside the clouds
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Aug 27, 2012
Aug 27, 2012 at 3:15 AM UTC
Sharing is caring... Or is it really?
Its all just words No faces No looks, no clothes, no smell A simple connection It could have been anybody But it wasn’t It started off as a hobby Something to keep boredom at bay By now you’re junior olympics... At least It can be as flawless as beach glass Or jagged and farspread like the trees still dieing I never know what to expect Excitement Misunderstanding Seriousness Interest Laughter Understanding Awkwardness Distracted An idea ... Clearly I could continue It’s like my little escape hole A therapist that Actually understands and wants to We just click Alined by the sun Some would say But I dunno if that’s true All I know is what I feel Should I not feel what I feel? Do I feel what I feel? Is what I feel real? Or is it fake Is it a lie? Or should I make it one I don’t know what’s best How can I I’m new at this remember All I know are the words of the known Who are unknown to me in one world And an empty chair in the next I sit down and wait patiently Until it’s finally my turn, here is where I’ll sit There is no shame finding comfort in the little things the chair offers Its smooth silky surface The wine stain down the middle the dots that resemble a smile in the corner You don’t forget what you know so well You open up your palm A baby snake inside He doesn't take it He doesn't **** it on the spot He doesn't grimace with disgust He doesn't burst out in laughter He picks it up and cradles it in his hands And sets it free Back into the world where it belongs And then he gives you a dalia You take it and tuck it behind his ear as something to be admired He blushes He needs you too Maybe But its real Almost too real So you push it away It’s impossible It might not even be close to what you think it might be Forget And stay silent Hey We start again A haha here A smiley face too Climbing up the uncertain mountain that has never been climbed before The chance of falling high But you like the chase And for now It’s enough You don’t really care if you summit anyway A possible “when” always dangling Inside the clouds
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"So what's it like slick," she asks, "living your life in an asylum?" And I sthay, "I dunno Missusth." But sthill I wonder if the sthraightjackets fit tightly there, why I might like little white pillsth, electric-shock treatmentsth, & sthcrewdriver-lobotomiesth. So hey you Missusth, I know thisth ain't working out here any more & yet I, I continue to sthare at the ceiling, watch the fan sthpinning, listening to melancholy voicesth whisthpering from sthingle blades of grassth. They ask me thingsth about my crazinessth too, as if I sthupposed to know anything here on the insthide looking out with the door closthed. That means sthut lady, with an aposthrophe-s, 'sth.
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May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 10:05 PM UTC
I Speak With A Lithium Lisp Missusth
I've lived a suicidal lifestyle, never worried about the consequence. I've been in this mental for a while, just teetering on the fence. On a positive note, I've already fallen off, so we may not be in the same boat and for that you may scoff. I'll shoot you a lil info, I don't give a **** a fair one, ***** you dunno what you in for, gonna end up with your jaw wired shut. You don't wanna wit me, I don't wanna waste my time, you will flee, I'll catch another felony, at the expense of not two cents but a ****** dime.
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Feb 20, 2014
Feb 20, 2014 at 4:38 PM UTC
lifestyle
I never asked to be ugly dunno why it made me so hard to like My own peers they killed me while our adult supervision got high. I had no friends when I went away to the place mom told me I had to go stay, "It's a happy place," I remember she said, "Called Camp Crystal Lake." Sounded nice enough at the time. Crystal Lake. A family fave. Nowadays, when you hear the name You don't think of a sunshiney place full of laughter and happy children You think of misfortune you think of my face and if you think of visiting, You better not stay For more than a day, Or the children will play on your grave. This is my home and I'd rather be alone, With the dead animals and my mother's bones.
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Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 5:55 AM UTC
Crystal Lake
I like being alone I love soletude But every once in awhile I get a feeling I think it's loneliness I don't like people I hate socializing But every once in awhile I get a desire I think it's for companionship I sometimes want a friend But I dunno I'm not great with people But maybe my answer is a person Then I won't have to be alone
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May 24, 2018
May 24, 2018 at 9:19 PM UTC
I don't wanna be alone
Mother of the season Do you snitch for a living Tell me all your reason. Life will be reasonable, If she’s visible To say the truth. Will be helpful’ You took my heart away, And you want me a slave. To do all in yo own way, Life’s unfair, I’m unaware. Until I fell for a godly ***** An educated witch. That took away my heart, To far away beach. Dunno tho, or a bridge. The day is now bright, You took away my life’ give me back my wife That I fell for’ at first sight You make us fight, At our differences. You set us apart With pretenses Educated witch Go please And bring back my queen.
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Jan 26, 2019
Jan 26, 2019 at 8:44 AM UTC
Educated witch
sext: wrap me in the blanket that's in the back seat of your car, call her while I'm staring into space, tell her you love her out of no where sext: uuuuuuuuhhhhh......I don't want to move in with you sext: I love you but I'm moving a thousand miles away sext: I love you so I'm moving a thousand miles away sext: I'm moving a thousand miles away BECAUSE I love you sext: I want to bite off your tongue sext: really bad sext: you shouldn't have told her you love her when I was already off the ledge sext: I'll bite your lip, it'll bleed, red will pour down your mouth and your clothes and your horns will poke through and BOOM! satan sext: baby baby BABY you turn me on sext: especially when your actions completely correlate with what I was always told not to do sext: I was told not to do you, but, well....ok we were supposed to hangout at a park like this is a ******* indie movie but this cop told me that park was closed? I didn't know parks ******* close? so we met in a parking lot and you mentioned how your roommate wasn't home and la la la la LAAAAA, we ended up on your living room floor and the carpet was covered in my black lace sext: I'm wearing high heels, tall ones. I'm 5' 11 1/2", you're, ummm...something. someone. oh yeah, I'm in love with you. well, I dunno about that anymore what's love? I defined it and it said "sext: an intense feeling of deep attachment". ah, ok, got it. I now understand you, love. this was supposed to be **** ya no, like me running down the back your legs in my red high heels, sending chills through your veins and breaking all of your bones. ****** **** right? **** I ruined it when I brought up love   sext: uh, it's been 3 days since we've talked. I know you said like 3 months ago that we needed to "draw new lines for each other" and "figure out how to have self control and not pounce the other when we're alone and I play smashing pumpkins" but we've ****** like what, 40 times since? and you told me you loved me and begged me not to leave soooooooo....? those lines need to be erased buddy boy sext: uhg. you don't get it. I'm tired.  got so drunk I could barely stand last night. slept for fourty minutes. then worked a thirteen hour shift. I'm sorry. give me a kiss. no? but this is supposed to be a sext? sext: nothing you say is equivalent to a sext these days sext: take your clothes off sext: take your clothes off sext: then take mine off sext: then take mine off sext: you wear mine, I wear yours sext: jk babe the clothes are off we're ******* ******
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Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 3:44 AM UTC
sext: and BOOM! satan
sext: wrap me in the blanket that's in the back seat of your car, call her while I'm staring into space, tell her you love her out of no where sext: uuuuuuuuhhhhh......I don't want to move in with you sext: I love you but I'm moving a thousand miles away sext: I love you so I'm moving a thousand miles away sext: I'm moving a thousand miles away BECAUSE I love you sext: I want to bite off your tongue sext: really bad sext: you shouldn't have told her you love her when I was already off the ledge sext: I'll bite your lip, it'll bleed, red will pour down your mouth and your clothes and your horns will poke through and BOOM! satan sext: baby baby BABY you turn me on sext: especially when your actions completely correlate with what I was always told not to do sext: I was told not to do you, but, well....ok we were supposed to hangout at a park like this is a ******* indie movie but this cop told me that park was closed? I didn't know parks ******* close? so we met in a parking lot and you mentioned how your roommate wasn't home and la la la la LAAAAA, we ended up on your living room floor and the carpet was covered in my black lace sext: I'm wearing high heels, tall ones. I'm 5' 11 1/2", you're, ummm...something. someone. oh yeah, I'm in love with you. well, I dunno about that anymore what's love? I defined it and it said "sext: an intense feeling of deep attachment". ah, ok, got it. I now understand you, love. this was supposed to be **** ya no, like me running down the back your legs in my red high heels, sending chills through your veins and breaking all of your bones. ****** **** right? **** I ruined it when I brought up love   sext: uh, it's been 3 days since we've talked. I know you said like 3 months ago that we needed to "draw new lines for each other" and "figure out how to have self control and not pounce the other when we're alone and I play smashing pumpkins" but we've ****** like what, 40 times since? and you told me you loved me and begged me not to leave soooooooo....? those lines need to be erased buddy boy sext: uhg. you don't get it. I'm tired.  got so drunk I could barely stand last night. slept for fourty minutes. then worked a thirteen hour shift. I'm sorry. give me a kiss. no? but this is supposed to be a sext? sext: nothing you say is equivalent to a sext these days sext: take your clothes off sext: take your clothes off sext: then take mine off sext: then take mine off sext: you wear mine, I wear yours sext: jk babe the clothes are off we're ******* ******
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I hadn't heard from you in months. I thought about you every day. No joke I though about if you were think about me as much as I was of you.I wanted to hear your voice, see your smile, be with you once more but then yesterday came along. I got your message "hey" unknown number "who is this?" "who do you think?"" "I dunno" "Juana" woah woah woah woah JUANA?!?!?!?! Its been a year! JUANA!?!?! I almost cried. I wanted to leap for joy. You can't understand, she was...is my best friend. She completes me as a person. My best friend reunited with me. Oh my ******* god. So exciting. Juana, thank you its so nice to have you back
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May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 12:41 PM UTC
texting joy
when i was thirteen i remember whenever i went over to a friend's house who had a sort of get-together with a whole ton of other kids about once a month i'd sit on the rug in their basement with twenty other teenagers looking at socks. there are ten kids in my family and two ****** parents and we had a whole bathtub full of socks and if you could find two that actually fit you were golden never mind matching or nice and white... and sitting looking at all the other kids' socks i felt like **** they had the nicest whitest socks you ever saw and mine were grey worn dilapidated specimens that i'd dug out from the very bottom. and somehow i decided that this was a failure on my mother's part that she didn't keep our floors clean enough or she didn't wash my socks right and so i spent my thirteenth year feeling like **** over socks and today i was folding some socks (do you fold socks? i dunno how it works. whatever) and i was looking at them colorful silly but grungy still and the white ones still grey and i thought well i don't have a mother anymore and my socks still aren't white and nice i guess that's one less ****** thing in my life i don't have to blame her for anymore another nice thing is that i don't give a **** about socks
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Mar 1, 2013
Mar 1, 2013 at 3:59 PM UTC
19 3/4 years of ****** socks
I asked myself over a warm cup of tea, "what kind of beauty is there in finding mystery in yourself?" I took a little sip, and had more thoughts. And so I scribbled, a few words on a piece of paper. a fine day indeed to be playing Thelonious Monk, one of my favorite Jazz pianists. y'know, his music has a certain type of soul to it, something inviting about it. I dunno. with that cup of tea still in hand, I listened to the ocean dance while Monk rushed over the piano keys. that cup of tea smelled like years of fear and peace to come. that cup of tea reminded me of the first time I burnt my finger with a candle when I was still a kid. that cup of tea reminded me of my first love. it reminded me that I'm still 17, it also tasted like conversations I had with friends about girls we'd never have. "that girl. she's the one, you'd probably have a chance with her. say something, you shy mo'fo." but then again it wasn't about probability. it tasted like 5AM in the morning after your first breakup. it tasted like 4PM when you wrote your first poem. it tasted like bitterness. the tea tasted like my love for things that have aged. '65 Mustangs and inked pages. ripped jeans and new faces. jazz music and new places. its funny what tea can do one's mind once it burns your tongue and runs down your oesophagus to warm your lungs. Monk's music in the background, I still scribbled words on a piece of paper. if only this moment could linger. cup of tea, cup of tea, what type of flavor did you leave in me? see, when i stare at this cup, it seems as if it holds unneccessary emptiness. but can still hold my deepest desires in liquid form - a warm cup of tea. I probably wrote all of this after I burnt my tongue with tea. but then again, this isn't about probability. this is from the deep of things, with love. sincurlyxbaki
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Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 7:46 AM UTC
from the deep end of things, with love.
I asked myself over a warm cup of tea, "what kind of beauty is there in finding mystery in yourself?" I took a little sip, and had more thoughts. And so I scribbled, a few words on a piece of paper. a fine day indeed to be playing Thelonious Monk, one of my favorite Jazz pianists. y'know, his music has a certain type of soul to it, something inviting about it. I dunno. with that cup of tea still in hand, I listened to the ocean dance while Monk rushed over the piano keys. that cup of tea smelled like years of fear and peace to come. that cup of tea reminded me of the first time I burnt my finger with a candle when I was still a kid. that cup of tea reminded me of my first love. it reminded me that I'm still 17, it also tasted like conversations I had with friends about girls we'd never have. "that girl. she's the one, you'd probably have a chance with her. say something, you shy mo'fo." but then again it wasn't about probability. it tasted like 5AM in the morning after your first breakup. it tasted like 4PM when you wrote your first poem. it tasted like bitterness. the tea tasted like my love for things that have aged. '65 Mustangs and inked pages. ripped jeans and new faces. jazz music and new places. its funny what tea can do one's mind once it burns your tongue and runs down your oesophagus to warm your lungs. Monk's music in the background, I still scribbled words on a piece of paper. if only this moment could linger. cup of tea, cup of tea, what type of flavor did you leave in me? see, when i stare at this cup, it seems as if it holds unneccessary emptiness. but can still hold my deepest desires in liquid form - a warm cup of tea. I probably wrote all of this after I burnt my tongue with tea. but then again, this isn't about probability. this is from the deep of things, with love. sincurlyxbaki
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30
"-*I think we should move him to Mallorca, or some kind of... I dunno, Carribeans? It's too rainy here.           -Oh honey, I don't think it's going to work*..." These artificial surroundings won't heal my heart. Transplantation went wrong. Drip drop, the drops are falling On leaves Rain everywhere, soaking everything Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom In this garden of mine plants live their lives Roots and stems and leaves Lovers of rain; seekers of self destruction Striving to know. "-*How is he? I haven't seen him in a while.           -No idea. He's acting weird nowadays*." The keeper of the values, the guardian of the golden shell Believe me, I'm very well. In this waterfall, this foamy-quick stream Growing bones around me, the self-stems.
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Jan 15, 2018
Jan 15, 2018 at 5:44 PM UTC
Soaked thoughts
I’m the most stereotypical teenager you’ve ever met. I spend all my time with my friends. I like frappuccinos and I’m obsessed With my social media pages. I fell in love with a boy; And, when he broke my heart, I sobbed on the floor for weeks And then dyed my hair blonde and moved on. I wore a pretty blue dress and sparkly heels to prom. I graduated at the top of my class, President of the honor society, Friends with everyone. I’m your stereotypical teenage girl. I’m the main character in a Disney channel original movie. I have everything, I think. Why can’t I sleep at night? What they don’t tell you in the movies Is that when I’m not with my friends, I feel lost and alone. When I was heartbroken, I fell apart. I’m successful, but at what cost? The stereotypical teenage girl gets 3 hours of sleep a night. I spend most of the night doing work, But I also spend time texting my friends and flirting with boys. When I’m alone with only myself, do I still fit the stereotype?
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Jun 7, 2021
Jun 7, 2021 at 2:34 AM UTC
Who am I when I'm alone? Dunno
I am in such a **** mood, the mountains have no meaning. Big ******* rocks. **** you, dad. **** you, Fox News. **** you, Indiana. None of you ******* know what irony is. Google that **** Jesus Christ. There are yellow streams-- that's poetic **** There are ruby stained sheets-- that's blood, obviously, and, I dunno, maybe somebody died on a bed? Everyone can **** my **** To be or not to be, that is the shut the **** up. Rapists are disgusting people. They aren't people. ******* idiots. Romanticizing everything you wish you had because suicide, mental illness, and eating disorders make you cool, riiiigghhhttt? **** you. If you do this, you aren't interesting. You're just you. Get used to it. There are people that go through these issues and they don't think it's ******* rad, ******* I hate 75% of the south. The south will rise again? Get the **** out of here. Stalin was a **** Most writers are ***** Most of them **** I don't care. For the love of "God", if I read one more poem about what poetry is or how to define a poet, I'll slam my head against a ************* knife. Some people are so dumb. Most ******* people. ******* pseudo-knowledge. Armchair philosophers. If you guys wanted to **** yourself, you could jump from your ego to your IQ. Something, something, imagery. Metaphor.
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Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 1:18 AM UTC
**** Mood
i kind of just wish that i could be alive somewhere else in another time zone i dunno why the tears come to my eyes or why i have to fake it day after day to win some sort of fake prize that fails to materialize doesn't even bring me to where i need to be it's my demise i grasp and cannot feel cannot understand what it is that it is real i just want to feel like i used to feel when i was a kid and happiness was real content knowing that i'd go to heaven and i have nothing to worry about now all i have are my dreams and aspirations friends and family keep me healthy active alive but without them i don't think i'd keep plugging in don't think i'd like to keep living i'd want to have some other sort of special feeling i feel like depression is back rearing its head in my face i'm on the couch it's dark but through the window things are looking out looking in showing me that i'm hallucinating and contemplating about killing myself i'll never do it but i just want to live i just to overcome i want to be successful this is the hardest struggle i've ever been in i want peace but every time i get it it goes away i don't want to feel this way cigarette after cigarette looking off in the distance my mind blown smoke so much **** to ease the pain but it just goes away it fukin goes away :( :( and **** everybody else who didn't want to hang out with me my friends left me and i become so sad depression is something i've had my whole life i just now realized this tonight
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Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 4:26 AM UTC
Tonight's Realization
i kind of just wish that i could be alive somewhere else in another time zone i dunno why the tears come to my eyes or why i have to fake it day after day to win some sort of fake prize that fails to materialize doesn't even bring me to where i need to be it's my demise i grasp and cannot feel cannot understand what it is that it is real i just want to feel like i used to feel when i was a kid and happiness was real content knowing that i'd go to heaven and i have nothing to worry about now all i have are my dreams and aspirations friends and family keep me healthy active alive but without them i don't think i'd keep plugging in don't think i'd like to keep living i'd want to have some other sort of special feeling i feel like depression is back rearing its head in my face i'm on the couch it's dark but through the window things are looking out looking in showing me that i'm hallucinating and contemplating about killing myself i'll never do it but i just want to live i just to overcome i want to be successful this is the hardest struggle i've ever been in i want peace but every time i get it it goes away i don't want to feel this way cigarette after cigarette looking off in the distance my mind blown smoke so much **** to ease the pain but it just goes away it fukin goes away :( :( and **** everybody else who didn't want to hang out with me my friends left me and i become so sad depression is something i've had my whole life i just now realized this tonight
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She knows it is something to eat Smells like what she’d fancy as yummy … but not quite so She smoothly zigzags along Forbidden Chords Smells - Tosses - Hops - delicately Licks and Jumps at once back to Shadows wherein she always hides paints Numerous Cooler Tones with her Yawns Lest her Glittery Eyes a Pair that never shuts despite Days Seasons Nights I approach silently beside her Not to bother As if Wiser because I look taller -I guess- Stupid! Stupid! I just realize now... An elegance of furry highness lying aside For her ‘of me’ means Playmateness just none about silly bossiness among us With me She does her pats Gingerly Not to hurt As if as if I could not handle some Innocuous Spice But I mind not if she finds this way alright because I trust her nature with all of my broken Hearts And let go the all of me Fully to the fury of the Furry come on babe Hit me Come! Come Now! arghhh! Bites She! swiftly and tenderly brushes afterwards happens this All the -outta my sight- Time but she also Lets me win sometimes win ...I guess. ?. Purposefully Anyway Yeah Maybe it’s Love dunno why or how I wonder and smile then Cry aiaiaiaiai until a PATZ Paw shoots my Pathos outta Sight Come on Babe Hit me! Come now! Come! Argghh! :)))) Bites She!
0
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 5:35 PM UTC
I'NOXIOUS SPICE
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz Bored still keen for that sandwhich, hopefully it isnt soggy wait what if it is **** thats my only food zzzz keen for a sleep or maybe xbox i dunno lol
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Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 7:47 PM UTC
Write a poem
I want green tea kit kat Not because it is green Nor it is a kat Because it is a GREEN TEA KIT KAT But as I look in the fridge only 1 remained Yay it's a green tea kit kat But NO It is the last GREEN TEA KIT KAT I dunno what to do Why oh why Is it overpriced in the Philippines Where coconuts are all around But no cheap Green Tea Kit Kat Someone pls Give me more Green Tea Kit Kat
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Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 1:46 AM UTC
I want green tea kit kat
Ya Know Peoples’ Behaviour’s... Getting... Stranger And STRANGER... !!! NO... Away In A Manger... !!! But PLENTY of DANGER... !!! In... Peoples Behaviour... !!! Because Corona’s Brought Flavours... When It Comes To THAT PAPER... !!! That Are A... GAME CHANGER... !!! So Some Peoples Behaviour’s... Beginning To Tailor... Itself Towards... Vader’s... !!! Because of DICTATORS... Who Have Now Endangered... !!! MORE THAN... Livelihoods... Now Lives Have Been Took... That’s EVEN SHOOK CROOKS... !!! So Behaviours Now Look... Like They’re Ready To Cook... MUCH MORE Than PROTESTS... When Leaders Send Feds’... To Now Fire BULLETS... !!! At WOMEN On Front Lines... Who Now STAND AGAINST... Racism And Violence... That Lead To Black Deaths... !!! By... Taking of Breaths... By Some YES Policemen... !!! They’re Behaviours ATTEST... To Delivering STRESS... To Lots of Blacks HEADS... !!! So OF COURSE Some Are VEX... !!!!! About Treatment We Get... !!! But... Protest Behaviour... Has Got... INSTIGATORS... Who May Be IMITATORS... ?!? And... CONTAMINATORS... Used To Be MUTILATORS... !!! of Behaviours Now Caused... By BLATANTLY FLAGRANT... ABUSE of THEIR Laws... !?! Hold Up... Let Me PAUSE...................... Did I Just Call Them... " LAWS "... ? What Do They Stand For... ?!? Cos They’re CLEARLY NOT Made... To Now PROTECT The Hoards … ? I Mean... MASSES of People... Who Seem READY For WAR... !?! In... Different Locations... It Seems That Behaviours... Are Now Fighting For... MORE Than Freedom of Thought... !!! IT’s... FREEDOM To TALK... That’s Now Being Cut SHORT... !?! When Clearly Behaviours... Should OPEN UP MORE Than EVER BEFORE... !!! But THESE MANIPULATORS... Have Their Perpetrators... of Behaviours That Walk... With Talk That Is FALSE... !!! From These CORONA Wars... To These CLOSED Corridors... Where Decisions Are BOUGHT ! I Dunno Anymore... ?!? If We’ll Ever ENFORCE... Behaviours Like Jailers... For Traitors Who Break Laws... !!! ESPECIALLY When... They Are Leaders And Lords !!! Instead of Behaviours... That... DESTROY The Poor... !!! We NEED CASTIGATORS... And... Coordinators... Whose Behaviours Are PURE... !!! Instead of These FAKERS... And... New Age ENSLAVERS... !!! Who Drive These Creations... of Thoughts That I TAILOR... To Speak On These Subjects... Like Peoples’... .... “BEHAVIOUR”....
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Nov 27, 2020
Nov 27, 2020 at 2:18 AM UTC
“Behaviour” ... A Poem written By Big Virge 25/7/2020
Ya Know Peoples’ Behaviour’s... Getting... Stranger And STRANGER... !!! NO... Away In A Manger... !!! But PLENTY of DANGER... !!! In... Peoples Behaviour... !!! Because Corona’s Brought Flavours... When It Comes To THAT PAPER... !!! That Are A... GAME CHANGER... !!! So Some Peoples Behaviour’s... Beginning To Tailor... Itself Towards... Vader’s... !!! Because of DICTATORS... Who Have Now Endangered... !!! MORE THAN... Livelihoods... Now Lives Have Been Took... That’s EVEN SHOOK CROOKS... !!! So Behaviours Now Look... Like They’re Ready To Cook... MUCH MORE Than PROTESTS... When Leaders Send Feds’... To Now Fire BULLETS... !!! At WOMEN On Front Lines... Who Now STAND AGAINST... Racism And Violence... That Lead To Black Deaths... !!! By... Taking of Breaths... By Some YES Policemen... !!! They’re Behaviours ATTEST... To Delivering STRESS... To Lots of Blacks HEADS... !!! So OF COURSE Some Are VEX... !!!!! About Treatment We Get... !!! But... Protest Behaviour... Has Got... INSTIGATORS... Who May Be IMITATORS... ?!? And... CONTAMINATORS... Used To Be MUTILATORS... !!! of Behaviours Now Caused... By BLATANTLY FLAGRANT... ABUSE of THEIR Laws... !?! Hold Up... Let Me PAUSE...................... Did I Just Call Them... " LAWS "... ? What Do They Stand For... ?!? Cos They’re CLEARLY NOT Made... To Now PROTECT The Hoards … ? I Mean... MASSES of People... Who Seem READY For WAR... !?! In... Different Locations... It Seems That Behaviours... Are Now Fighting For... MORE Than Freedom of Thought... !!! IT’s... FREEDOM To TALK... That’s Now Being Cut SHORT... !?! When Clearly Behaviours... Should OPEN UP MORE Than EVER BEFORE... !!! But THESE MANIPULATORS... Have Their Perpetrators... of Behaviours That Walk... With Talk That Is FALSE... !!! From These CORONA Wars... To These CLOSED Corridors... Where Decisions Are BOUGHT ! I Dunno Anymore... ?!? If We’ll Ever ENFORCE... Behaviours Like Jailers... For Traitors Who Break Laws... !!! ESPECIALLY When... They Are Leaders And Lords !!! Instead of Behaviours... That... DESTROY The Poor... !!! We NEED CASTIGATORS... And... Coordinators... Whose Behaviours Are PURE... !!! Instead of These FAKERS... And... New Age ENSLAVERS... !!! Who Drive These Creations... of Thoughts That I TAILOR... To Speak On These Subjects... Like Peoples’... .... “BEHAVIOUR”....
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Tell me what you see when you look at me. My eyes? My pert, soft buttocks? My beer belly? Do you even see anything at all? Maybe, you don't even register me. Maybe, I just walk past you and you walk past me and we both just ignore each other. There is no special recognition, not a hint of longing or regret. Just a casual, accidental bump because you were on the phone talking to some random ***** named Trish. Or, maybe, just maybe, what you see, sets your libido on fire. You can't bear to look at me because it's like looking at the sun; You think that if you stare too long, your eyes will burn and you'll go blind. You're afraid that one more fevered look in my direction will be the last one it takes to make you jump on me with such lust as to make Casanova weep. I dunno, Maybe it's not as bad as that. Maybe what you see makes you remember those long weekends spent by the lakeside, reading poetry and discovering what it means to love yourself again. Maybe you just take a quick peek to get you through the day even though your heart wants to stare forever. Hell, it might even be the genuine article: That be all and end all, The one true form, That greatest thing: Love at first sight. Or, y'know, maybe you were just looking at that hobo behind me, vomiting into a bin.
0
Aug 16, 2013
Aug 16, 2013 at 8:28 PM UTC
Love At First Sight
He was lying on the futon, watching Battlestar Galactica. I was in my nightgown sitting in his windowsill, smoking a cigarette, bored, restless & lonely. I stared out the window, looked down at the ground. “Do you think if I fell out of your window, I would die?” I asked him. “I don’t know if you’d die, but you would get seriously hurt that’s for sure.” He mumbled. I took a long drag from my cigarette and looked back out the window. The street was empty and dark. The only illumination came from a single streetlight about half a block from where I was sitting. I stared at that streetlight for a long time, feeling as alone as ever. After a minute or so, I began to feel his eyes penetrate my core. I looked at him. He was all limbs spread in every direction. The flame in his eyes told me more than I wanted to know. “Do you ever feel like a moth?” I asked him. “In what sense?” “I dunno, like do you ever feel like you’re always attracted to something that is out to destroy you in the end? Like no matter where you end up, you find yourself hitting the same lightbulb over and over as if it could save you… When really it will be the death of you?” He looked at me quizzically. Electricity filled in the gaps between us. “Why are you thinking about that?” He reminded me of myself - always answering a question with a question. I looked back at the streetlight and I could see the silhouettes of insects all around it. “Oh, I was just noticing the streetlight over there and all of the bugs surrounding it. Don’t you ever feel like that though?” I asked him again. “Well when you put it that way, I’ve always felt like that, yeah.” “I have a book of poems that my friend Emma gave to me a while back - there’s a poem in there that reminds me of feeling like that. It’s called ‘the lesson of the moth’. I’d like to read it to you sometime.” I took a drag from my cigarette and looked at him again. Beautiful, he was in that moment. Just lying there listening to me, I felt like I was being heard for the first time. Battlestar Galactica had then become just a fuzz of white noise. I stared at him in silence. “What are you staring at?” I smiled. “You.” “Why?” “You’re beautiful.” I looked back at the streetlight and exhaled a long puff of smoke. Minutes rolled by. I couldn’t bear to look at him again. I have a hard time being seen. “Looking at you is like listening to a symphony.” He said at last. I was caught more by the charm of how he was more absorbed by the moment of me and not the boring television series that blurred in the background, never mind the romance of what had just escaped from his mouth. Because I knew I wasn’t the first girl he’s looked at like that, and I wouldn’t be the last. But dammnit, he sure knew how to make my skin melt and my heart burn.
0
Nov 22, 2012
Nov 22, 2012 at 10:35 PM UTC
just a fling
He was lying on the futon, watching Battlestar Galactica. I was in my nightgown sitting in his windowsill, smoking a cigarette, bored, restless & lonely. I stared out the window, looked down at the ground. “Do you think if I fell out of your window, I would die?” I asked him. “I don’t know if you’d die, but you would get seriously hurt that’s for sure.” He mumbled. I took a long drag from my cigarette and looked back out the window. The street was empty and dark. The only illumination came from a single streetlight about half a block from where I was sitting. I stared at that streetlight for a long time, feeling as alone as ever. After a minute or so, I began to feel his eyes penetrate my core. I looked at him. He was all limbs spread in every direction. The flame in his eyes told me more than I wanted to know. “Do you ever feel like a moth?” I asked him. “In what sense?” “I dunno, like do you ever feel like you’re always attracted to something that is out to destroy you in the end? Like no matter where you end up, you find yourself hitting the same lightbulb over and over as if it could save you… When really it will be the death of you?” He looked at me quizzically. Electricity filled in the gaps between us. “Why are you thinking about that?” He reminded me of myself - always answering a question with a question. I looked back at the streetlight and I could see the silhouettes of insects all around it. “Oh, I was just noticing the streetlight over there and all of the bugs surrounding it. Don’t you ever feel like that though?” I asked him again. “Well when you put it that way, I’ve always felt like that, yeah.” “I have a book of poems that my friend Emma gave to me a while back - there’s a poem in there that reminds me of feeling like that. It’s called ‘the lesson of the moth’. I’d like to read it to you sometime.” I took a drag from my cigarette and looked at him again. Beautiful, he was in that moment. Just lying there listening to me, I felt like I was being heard for the first time. Battlestar Galactica had then become just a fuzz of white noise. I stared at him in silence. “What are you staring at?” I smiled. “You.” “Why?” “You’re beautiful.” I looked back at the streetlight and exhaled a long puff of smoke. Minutes rolled by. I couldn’t bear to look at him again. I have a hard time being seen. “Looking at you is like listening to a symphony.” He said at last. I was caught more by the charm of how he was more absorbed by the moment of me and not the boring television series that blurred in the background, never mind the romance of what had just escaped from his mouth. Because I knew I wasn’t the first girl he’s looked at like that, and I wouldn’t be the last. But dammnit, he sure knew how to make my skin melt and my heart burn.
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