Dear Mrs. Frouin,
(atleast I think that was your name.)

For as long as I can remember I’ve always wanted to be a writer. Actually, I don’t believe I wanted to be anything, especially when I was younger,
but writing chose me.

For you see,
I conditioned myself unable to verbally express my emotions, or my thoughts, since I was old enough to have them.
I know the words I want to say when I want to say them,
but I never felt anyone wanted to hear them.
I believed my constant analyzing and emotional dissection to be a burden.
I knew most people wouldn’t understand, if they even bothered to listen at all.
And so I taught myself to alter the disease of emotions, and the curse of memories into dressed up words.
I turned my pain into similes, allegories and metaphors,
whether hidden and veiled or transparently exposed.
My pen became my bestfriend
and paper evolved into a therapist.

It didn’t always do the trick, I admit.
Especially when I was fifteen, the year you taught me,
the year I tried my first pill
and found an alternate reality I could escape to where everything felt good, all the ******* time.
And that’s where you caught me.

It seems petty, immature and egotistical to still remember this fourteen years later,
but when someone attempts to crush the only aspiration you have,
the only thing you really have felt good at,
it tends to stick with you.
Especially considering I remember everything.

As per usual, I had shown up to your class ******,
there wasn’t many classes I showed up to sober.
There wasn’t many classes I showed up to in general.
I had zoned out during your lesson, probably doodling, talking,
sleeping, listening to music, writing or staring at some pretty girl.
Everyone had left and you asked me to stay behind, and as much as I was a professional **** up back then, that wasn’t common.
You sat across from me and asked me what I wanted to do with my life,
immediately I answered “I want to be a writer.”
We talked about fiction, journalism, poetry, song writing,
the things I “excelled” in according to you,
but with softness in your voice you stated,
“I believe you have the talent, but to be brutally honest, I think you lack the motivation to do it.”
I hear that sentence every two weeks or so.
It haunts me.

I can understand your reasoning,
as I said above, I was a professional **** up.
But you didn’t bother to talk to my media and film teacher,
who personally tracked me down one day when I was cutting class in the woods getting high with friends,
pulling me aside to beg me to start showing up to any class more often,
that I had missed 84 classes in one year, and that he personally,
intercepted to principal to discuss me and stuck his neck out for me,
“You are far too unique to not make your mark here.” he said.
You didn’t bother to check that even then, when I wasn’t attending 90% of my classes,
I was still on the honour roll for English, History and Math.
And that even after your words,
and even after more partying
and attempting to **** my brain cells
I came back that next year and stayed on the honour roll,
adding 16th Century History to the list as well.

But I do see your original point,
maybe I do lack the motivation to “do it.”
Whatever that might mean,
because like all things in life,
it’s all about perception
and personal expectation
and interpretation.

You see, I can confidently say that
my writing has evolved,
and dare I say, at the risk of sounding pretentious and cocky,
it has gotten better.
And while I may not be getting paid a dime for any of it,
I have people reading my work,
for some reason,
and most importantly, I have people relating to my work,
experiencing it, and above all,
feeling it.
That’s all I’ve ever wanted to accomplish from writing;
it may have started as free, comfortable, liberating therapy, expression and self reflection,
but all I have ever wanted is to know I made someone, anyone,
feel something.
That’s all everyone should aspire to accomplish,
an act that touches a person,
makes them feel less alone.
There’s nothing more noble in this world than helping another person,
no matter how you do it.

Whenever someone has tried to show positivity or support for my writing,
they make comparisons of being the next (insert famous female writer here)
and all I ever think is that I would rather be the first me.
Almost every artist wants to “famous,”
but I have always thought that I would rather be respected than famous.
Maybe one day I will be,
but maybe I won’t,
that really isn’t the point.

You believed that I lacked the motivation to become a writer,
but I always have been one.
My motivation is used everyday to get out of my warm bed,
where dreams are the only plane of existence where I feel peace and bliss.
My motivation is used to create something from everything negative,
instead of letting it beat me down
and turn me into the kind of person who would look at a
troubled teen with a glimpse of aspiration,
and tell them they couldn’t do it.
My motivation is used to support others and if I’m lucky enough,
guide them even half a step closer to the path they want to take.

Mrs. Frouin, if you read this,
and I doubt you will
because you probably don’t remember someone who you thought you read so well to make assumptions on their potential,
please laugh at the irony at the
fact that you failed me in your “creative writing” class
and I’m still a writer.
And maybe, if you’ve read this all the way through,
the student “lacking motivation”
just became your teacher.

One day... when the sun rose high in the sky... Gods will was said to have whipped the universe of sin for a single moment in time.
But it was the way that sin had been whipped, that will change everything about this story. This story does not have a happy ending. But This story also does not have a bad one either.

When the world was at it's worst, where rapists, killers, pedophiles and just about the worst of the worst would stroll around, like a fresh Sunday right after church ended and the bells would be a-ringin'...

Dressed in Black with a Red clerical collar, the Devil decided to take a walk on Gods green earth.

A lot of those see Lucifer as the darkest of darkness that dark could ever cast into a shadowy corner in the lowest of low pits in Hell. The King of Rebels. The ultimate Sinner. But on this day, just this once, He didn't seem to appear so dark.

With every step he took you could hear the whaling of a banshies cry in the distance. With a grin that crept on the peak of his filthy stature of a body.

What was it that made this being so Evil? Why was he seen as such a tragic accident? Lucifer is no Demon of any kind, but a fallen Angel. The darkest most hated of Angels to ever be known.

The Devil Walked into a Bar... This bar was called "The Cracked Loon-Addict" (But The Devil knew... he could read the words better than any mortals eyes could ever see. The words read on the Bars title, The Cracked Lunatic) Home and Refuge for the worlds most wanted and every living killer, ******, ******* and monster you could possible think up.

He ordered a shot of whisky and took a sip.

A ****** walked up, weak in her demeanor, She reeked of conviction and any form of self respect.  She spat in his face and laughed.

A man walked up to the Devil soon after the woman staggered off drunk, and said he ***** 4 children, 7 wives, murdered 6 men and tortured 17 families and sent each tape he recorded of the tortures to each families family, right before coming after them and killing them too.

The Devil looked into this mans eyes and saw nothing but the truth.

Soon after the man walked away another man walked up to the Devil. This man was skinny and his eyes peeled of death. The man had claimed he was a deluded psychopath with no reason for killing 117 people in the course of 4 days. He said he was just bored.  

Nearing the end of the day as the sun began setting, more and more people, men and women approached the Devil and confessed their sins. By the time the sun had set the Devil was on his way out the door and before leaving a man sitting at a table at the opposite, farthest end of the bar sat in a Pure White Robe. The Devil Stood at the entrance for a moment and then turned around and saw the man and noticed there was a broken halo above his head. The Devil grinned and walked out. The first step he took outside the bar was the Step of Judgement The Second Step was the Step of Eternal Damnation.

Every living being in the bar weather it's species was human animal or unknown, had obliterated into a dark mist. All accept that one single man in the white Robe. That ****** burned alive and his ashes left the mark of his broken wings into the floor boards as if it was to leave a tattoo.

Lucifer remembers. He remembered what the man in the pure white robe said right before the Devil walked out. He said, "I am an egotistical Homosexual who poses as an innocent white male who rapes the innocent and sheds hatred on those who love the same gender; All so I can get into the Kingdom of Heaven." The Devil laughed as he took his first step outside of the Bar and as he left Gods green earth.

But he did not do this for the faith of good or to help and serve the lives of the innocent. They did not even pose a threat to the Devil nor did they care about him.

The Devil did this because he found that the burning souls in hell didn't seem to burn bright enough. So he found some better ones to burn for the next eternity to come until he needs to refill his eternal Inferno.

Three words,
Hurtful,
Egotistical,
Cockroach.

“FATHER, FORGIVE THEM”
                            Luke 23:34
}This is a longer write than usual but well worth
time to read it.} GEP
       
Hello Friends,
        This prayer is possibly the most important and most
        powerful prayer of Jesus.

        He prayed not only for those demanding
        His crucifixion, but for you and me as
        well.

        This prayer of Jesus is doubtless the shortest
        but most powerful prayer spoken by Him,
        because it transcends all generations, back-
        wards embracing all of the old testament
        believers and forward two thousand-eight
        teen years and beyond to the last believer
        in whatever year that may be.

        Now in the transaction of forgiving, there
        must be the offering of forgiveness, and the
        acceptance of the offer.

        God, in the person of His only begotten Son
        Jesus Christ, has offered His forgiveness of
        of all your sins, past, present and sins we
        have not yet committed. But God being  
       omniscient knows  what sins we will commit to-
        morrow, and so included in Jesus' prayer
        was all our future sins.

        We all need God's forgiveness, because without
        it we are condemned to the Lake of Fire.
        We must understand, that "The wages, the payoff
        of sin, is death",  i.e. forever dying, yet never dead,
        always suffering in a place God did not create
        for you and I.  So  God has offered to forgive you. 
       Will will you accept His offer? How do I accept God's offer,
        you ask? You accept God's forgiveness  by RE
        PENTING OF ALL IN WHICH  YOU ARE NOW
        TRUSTING , so that He will open the gate of
        Heaven to you at the end of this earthly life.

        Yes, no longer trust in all your works of self-
        righteousness, but simply believe IN, not ABOUT
        Jesus Christ, as your sin bearer, Savior, Lord and
        Master.

        This includes all your religious works of
        baptism, church affiliation,  church serving such
        as Sunday school teaching, being an Elder, or the
        holding of some other position in your church.
        These things are all commendable) AFTER you have
        believed in Christ as your personal Savior.

       In’ Matthew 7:21-23 Jesus tells about some very religious
        people that came to Him, boasting about all their
        religious deeds they had done in His Name, expecting
        to be rewarded with entrance into Heaven.

        Countless of millions throughout the world are doing
        the  same  thing  today. You know what Jesus said to them?
        "I never knew you, depart from me, you who work
        iniquity"
       They called their deeds, "wonderful works" and in their
        minds they were wonderful, but in comparison to the
        work of Jesus' suffering and crucifixion on the cross
        for their sins, they were empty works of pride, self-
        righteousness.The Bible declares that all the works of
        man are nothing more than "filthy rags" in contrast to
        His work of righteousness. They would be like  supplying a
       small pebble when what was really needed was a huge two
       hundred ton boulder.

      My friends, if you and I could get to Heaven, offering God
      our little ***** pebbles of works, then Jesus'  death, burial
      resurrection was not necessary. But it was absolutely necessary
     for Jesus to suffer and die on the cross, so that God might offer all
    of humanity His forgiveness of our sins. Understand that He was
     not suffering for His own sins, because He was totally without
     sin. Jesus was bearing your sins as well as mine, so that
     God's law of righteousness might be fulfilled in us,
     THROUGH JESUS CHRIST.

     So how does that work?” you ask. Look at II Corinthians 5:21
    "For God has made Christ to be sin, (not a sinner) for us,
    (That's what Jesus was doing when He allowed Himself to
      be crucified)  He was made sin for us, that we might be made
     the righteousness of God IN HIM"

    So the moment you turn from believing in your own self made
    righteousness, you are IN Christ, and God sees you as one
    who has had your sin debt paid in full, because you are IN His only
     begotten Son and thus you have accepted His full forgiveness.
                                                                                  -   by G.E.Parson






        
     forgiveness].

        The Bible says that "The gift of God is Eternal Life." So Be sure
        to thank God for His gracius[gracious] gift.

                  For all questions, contact Jerry Howarth
                   jp.howarths@gmail.com




[Dad, I understand what you are saying here about ‘self-righteousness’, but I’m not sure that’s going to lovingly draw someone to Christ as it sounds like the writer is much holier-than-the-reader. Although it’s accurate, this delivery sort of smacks as an insult from someone they’d consider arrogant or egotistical. The result would be a turn off rather than a turning to Jesus. Maybe I’m wrong here, but that’s just a thought.]


“FATHER, FORGIVE THEM”
Luke 23:34

        Hello, Friend. This prayer of Jesus is possibly the most important and most powerful prayer of Jesus. He prayed not only for those demanding His crucifixion but for you and me as well.

        This prayer of Jesus is the shortest but most powerful prayer spoken by Him, because it transcends all generations backwards, embracing all of the old testament believers and forward two thousand seventeen years and beyond to the last believer in whatever year that may be.

        Now in the transaction of forgiving, there must be both the offering of forgiveness and then the acceptance of the offer.

        God, in the person of His only begotten Son Jesus Christ, has offered His forgiveness for all your sins, past and present and even sins we have not yet committed. But God, being omniscient, knows what sins we will commit tomorrow and beyond. So included in Jesus' prayer was all of our future sins.

        We all need God's forgiveness, because without it we are condemned to the Lake of Fire.
We must understand that "the wages”, the payoff of sin, “is death." That is to say, forever dying, yet never dead, always suffering in a place God did not create for you and me. So God has offered to forgive you. Will you accept His offer? “How do I accept God's offer?” you ask. You accept God's forgiveness by REPENTING OF ALL IN WHICH YOU ARE NOW TRUSTING. Then He will open the gate of Heaven to you at the end of this earthly life.

        Yes, no longer trust in all your works that seem righteous and moral, but simply believe IN, not ABOUT Jesus Christ, as your sin-bearer, Savior, Lord and Master. This includes all your religious works of church affiliation, baptism, church service such as Sunday school teaching, serving as an elder or deacon, or the holding of some other position in your church. These things are all commendable AFTER you have
        believed in Christ as your personal Savior.
In Matthew 7:21-23 Jesus tells about some very religious people that came to Him, boasting about all their
        religious deeds they had done in His Name, expecting to be rewarded with entrance into Heaven.

        Countless of millions throughout the world are doing the same thing today. You know what Jesus said to them? "I never knew you, depart from me, you who work iniquity" They called their deeds, "wonderful works" and in their minds they were wonderful, but in comparison to the work of Jesus' suffering and crucifixion on the cross for their sins, they were empty works of pride, self-righteousness.

        The Bible declares that all the works of man are nothing more than "filthy rags" in contrast to His work of
        righteousness. They would be like supplying a small pebble when what was really needed was huge two
        hundred ton boulder.

        Friend, if you and I could get to Heaven, offering God our little ***** pebbles of works, then Jesus' death, burial and resurrection was not necessary.

        But it was absolutely necessary for Jesus to suffer and die on the cross, so that God might offer all of humanity His forgiveness for our sins. Understand that He was not suffering for His own sins, because He was totally without sin. Jesus was bearing your sins as well as mine, so that God's law of righteousness might be fulfilled in us, THROUGH JESUS CHRIST.

        “So how does that work?” you ask.
Look at II Corinthians 5:21. "For God has made Christ to be sin (not a sinner) for us.” That's what Jesus was doing when He allowed Himself to be crucified. He was made sin for us, that we might be “made the righteousness of God IN HIM"

        So the moment you turn from believing in your own self-made righteousness, you are IN Christ, and God sees you as one who has had your sin debt paid in full, one who is IN His only begotten Son and thus you have accepted His forgiveness.

        The Bible says that "The gift of God is Eternal Life." So be sure to thank God for His gracious gift.

                  For all questions, contact Jerry Howarth
                   jp.howarths@gmail.com

My configuration is accelerating
Off balance with the earth's core
Dissatisfied, I try to be still
My form is hyper and energetic
Loud and obnoxious
Mistaken and exaggerated for being cruel
I only seek to harness similarities
To stand grandly, instead I appear egotistical with low self-esteem
Contradicting, no way to make sense
This is a normal place
Disconnected, I try to behave
Social skill are at low percentage
Sitting, I embrace the heckling
one hand on heart and the other on mind,
In hopes to intertwine
Take control, define the soul
Combine me into a whole
Let standards go
Carrying a presence of a mild wind breeze
Never nearing nor ending

God please help us all,
our future president says,

"I will build a Great Wall,
and nobody builds walls,
better than me,
believe me-
and I'll build them very inexpensively,
I will build a great, great wall,
on our Southern border,
I will make Mexico pay for that wall
-mark my words."
                  - Donald Trump

If you look on the internet
is literally loaded
with stuff that he has said,
documented proof,
unbelievable FACTS
undisputed ones,

Let's examine this statement,
just for a second,

Is HE going to build a Great Wall?
I personally doubt it,
I doubt he's going to be building anything
since he refuses to even pay painters
their due wages,
for work they did on the Trump Towers,
why? Some AD-HOMINEM,
argument no doubt,

And what is going to make this
WALL great?
that's going to make our country great again?
more walls?
Rebuild the ones we tore down for  good reason?
Take us back to the dark ages?
Because we will no longer
accept the tired
the weak and the huddled masses,
because,
he wants us to live in a state of fear?

And nobody builds walls better than me? He really slaughters the King's English,
that aside, me?
Me, me, me, me, me-
personally speaking,
I wish people understood his
Misogynistic, egotistical, narcissistic behavior better,
I have studied behavior,
unfortunately,
and I find so many things he says,
so deeply troubling,
at a cellular level,
like a psychic attack,

He says inexpensively?
Who is he kidding?
What kind of costs are we talkin'?
from whom "The" Donald?
Even the fact that he calls himself-
"The Donald" is pretty telling, no?

Why on our Southern border?
This is the only point that we're,
weak?
If you think race was an issue,
well it really is now,
& those undocumented Mexicans,
here in Vermont,
who live close by,
maybe I should warn them?

As Canadian immigration sites crash,
as people riot in the streets,

No, it's definately personal.
I'm not leaving,
I'm not giving up,
I'm not giving up my right to bear arms
either, as folks here in my
neck of the woods,
brace themselves ,
literally and figuratively,
for Civil unrest
& war even,

Muslims are shocked,
just keep reading,

And he leaves that opening
where he says wall(s),
being plural,
speaking for one,
going all the way around
the United States,
maybe,
obstructionist politics,
Republican EVERYTHING
Senate & Congress,
equals no balance of power,

And it's really scary,
how angry he is,
and how is he exactly going to make,
the Mexicans pay?

By making us all pay.

Sorry, but I can't accept this
it goes against everything I believe in,
that WE stand for,
I am not giving up on that vision,
I may accept the outcome
for now,
but I refuse to be defeated,
this is NOT defeat,

No,
I fight on,
for everyone,
I rail against the tide turning,
we should REFUSE to drown,
to be kept behind a great wall,
as he said he would NOT
be willing to accept defeat either.

Cherie Nolan © 2016

because a sad suicidal is stereotypical
acting happy is hypocritical
hanging in there is too biblical
ending one's life is cynical
waiting for a voice so lyrical
that'll help this life that's so minimal
i can't even be egotistical
because i'm just a lowly, foolish individual
a happy suicidal

Amongst the multitude of solitudnal whims
I carry within,
Down to you, forgotten.
A youth that's fighting,
refusing to succumb to the delicacies
of an aging core.
The dream of love renewed,
The ambiance of it.
The life of a thousand nights of falling star
wishes and programmed dreams.
A chance within our grasps.
Mirrors.

Desolately has my soul resided in this
phantasmal reality of dull referendum,
misunderstood.
Neglected, rejected, tortured, hurt,
and broken.
I remain hidden.
A cool calm collected exterior.
The world sees me,
or so it thinks.

Hilarious hideousness.
My deceptions so simple.
Smoke and mirrors, magician I am.
Humor the powerful blinding agent
of stares, opinions, and gossip.
I laugh internally as the world judges me.
Forms its superficial egotistical
repressed opinions of me.

Do you..... see me true?
Can you.....will you ever chose to?
Demonic presence ever near, trying to **** me.
Have I fear?.........No, I have no fear!

© Crystal Erickson  11/24/07

If only things were simple
You and I
Worlds rotating around would make so much more sense
If the people who are rotating around us were whole
But since we live on an egotistical planet
And everything we see is only a reflection of ourselves
What broken wretches we remain.
Oh my dear
If only things were simple
Hate, pain and loss would dissipate
And there would be no greener grass
No fence at all
Because my dear,
If things were simple
There would be no need for change
Hope would not exist
And we would graze where we were told along with the rest of the sheep
Oh my darling,
If only things were simple
There would be no gilt
No adventure
No regret
No mistakes
No lies
No lust
No life
I believe there is some truth to this egotistical world of ours
In a land of oposites
We are never content with comfort
And are able to keep our souls
You and I my dear
If only things were simple
We would be suffocating in the mundane

Me likes to play games,
video and board.
Is okay with small company,
In crowds is sickened more.
More than when she is sitting alone,
pondering on her own thoughts.
In her own toxic zone,
gazing upon scars from battles once fought.

Myself is alone.
And likes it that way.
Stuck in a habit of going astray.
Is surrounded in a bubble of fright,
Keeping it up with all her might.
Without it starts nervous paces.
Lonely things, in lonely places.
Where no one else knows or can find her.

I is vain.
I is perfect...
Until someone else agrees...
Self-absorbed and egotistical,
Sees only what SHE wants to see
Go ahead and challenge her,
She knows you'll come crawling back.
With no mercy at all,
Leaving you among the rats.

Welcome to the life,
Of Me, Myself, and I.
Analyze my words,
See who you have met,
Maybe even grown attached to...
And notice now, what thought of
Me, Myself, and I
Have left in you...

Log in and lose all sense of what and who you  truly are.
I see the ******* numbers and even  more egotistical statements from people I would consider more typist than writers.

A child with the understanding how to play the game and cheat the system .
I see your trending yet again because your fake ID reposted your newest crap fest while others seem to avoid your work like ***** on the floor of a frat house party.

Ego you have my friend.
Talent for bullshitting well in check.

But as for the page your a child who stares at the ocean scared shitless from the shore .
It must be fantastic being the greatest swimmer never to set foot in the pool.

This write is dedicated to a certain poet who if I mentioned .
Well his ego would just tell him hey at least someone's paying attention.

Your trending yet again and at the end of the day .
When you step away from the comp your just a ******* with a overinflated ego and some fake *** numbers .

And if are paths ever cross you may ask.
Hey aren't you?
And my only reply will be .

Yes I will take fries with that.


         Fin

i can't stand all the lying society does
and all the while they do it just because
the words they say just to fit in
little do they know my patience is wearing thin
i think that they're all egotistical,
their stupidity has become a ritual
maybe if they opened their eyes
they to would be surprised
they got so caught up in life
yet their actions were in strife
balling my fist as they attack my flaws
that's fine by me because i can fight my own brawls
because i realize they have people pressuring them
and all the while just to fit in.

Longing, probably.
A feeling of need.
For things.
Places.
Longing, such a melodramatic word
Disgusting.
Dreams described as something so weak.
Almost rude
Saying these feelings, these needs
Are little more than a flight of fancy.
A lusting from a pubescent teen boy
Over some pin-up model.
Longing, needing, wanting...
I mean, ******, I NEED THESE THINGS is all
All that my ever-noisy mind screams
"I've seen your drawings.
"Your mind must be like an acid trip."
Not a good one.
Constant, consistent, ever-present, complete need for
Stupid, useless things
For people who give not a care in the world about me
Places that don't want me...
An acid trip, a bad one, dark voices yelling at me,
My guilt full of egotistical self-blame.
"Everything has to be someone's fault.
"Always.
"It must be mine."
My fault, my fault, mine mine mine
Always always my fault.
Stupid stupid
I can't even get things wrong right.
Or whatever.
******.
Longing for understanding,
To understand my inner desires.
For things.
The rude word of longing
Tainting even the shameful wants and needs in my heart.
Stupid...

This started                                         dec 2009/ a lifetime ago/ shortly after the titanic sank
And when I first read it I               liked it/ hated it/ didn’t get it
But after all this                                 time/ mental torture/ self-indulgence
I can’t help but                                   think/ worry/ be extremely concerned
That you may be slightly              shut off/ un-hinged/ locked in a secure unit
How long will this poem                haunt me/ entertain me/ **** me off  
Will it still be here at                       christmas 2010/ christmas 2011/ the second coming
And how many times do you       tweet this poem/ take your medication/ look at it adoringly
To keep it                                            where it belongs/ as the thorn in my side/ on a poetry list for ever                            
Did you know that you have      no comments/ 2 comments/ 101 comments
And you have replied to               all of them/ 1 of them/ none of them
Which could be viewed as           bashful/ egotistical/ down right ******* rude
For the sake of                                  me/ the human race/ your psychiatrist
Make it stop                                       please/ pretty please/ pretty ******* please with cherries on

(delete as appropriate, preferably the poem!)

There once was a queen bee from Iowa
Who had opinions of her own persona
Her subjects weren't a happy crew
With her self praising points of view
The egotistical queen irked her subject's spleens

Rude and sarcastic
Egotistical and bombastic
Pretentious ******* thinking they know everything
When they're just full of ****

I sit disgustingly high on my throne
Looking down at those who don't share the same pigment
A sliver plate was placed in front of me at birth
On it had everything i’d ever need
Financial stability, a house, clothes
Food, parents, education, safety
My heart pumps nothing but racism through my veins
An artery of cruelty and death

I strongly believe that ‘diversity’ equals white genocide
More of them means
Less attention on me  
Confederate flags litter my house
My car, my clothes
A simple reminder of the good ol’ days
Kicking them, Kidnapping them, Killing them  
My life is now
Being waited on hand and foot
My every move watched
My every need taken care of
My husband
As rich and powerful as he is
Through his fragile and egotistical nature
Shows no mercy to me and my kids
I will never struggle to provide for my family
I started my life on the top of the ladder
For my skin is my privilege

Someone is lying….

If i showed you a mere glimpse of my life
And the world’s nearly unbearable
Weight on me
Would you believe it?
I carry a list of illnesses from A to Z
A suicidal uncle who no longer shares
the same air as me
Colour, race, and religion
Hold no limitations to my pain
The day in ,the day out
Cold, Suffering
I will not be constricted to
the rules set on whites
By whites
I am defined by my actions
I stand before you as I am
I am well read and independant
Fiery and calm
I walk my path with integrity pulling my head high
And shoulders back strong

I am made from my experiences
I am not constrained to my personal history  
I was taught this social cancer
But surely, this can always be forgotten  
For my skin is my privilege
And my privilege is being me

Egoistical is thinking everything is made to please you and if it doesn't it must be bad.

I loved you the moment before it
and when you were done
I left you

how evil some may think right?
but you knew what you did
and like a cat I tried to get out
but you caught me
you always do.

you egotistical, sadistic, narcissistic son of a AGHHHGHHHIEWHOGABGILG

play the victim so my ears can rest.
and I won't need to explain.
and you can do what you do best.
and haunt me with the pain.

you are leathered with residue
decaying the rust off your skin
with our initials crawling into
alabaster sheets that all I have really
felt while staring out at the streets
we're people fading by egotistical
lack of self confidence
even though I admit using
seducing strategies
possibly disgusted by my own
emotions
that I am placing ******
thrills on my own configuration
because it's humid and blatant
unkowling breathing ruthless sentiments
of our holy communion

I am splitting into a holy sin
drenched in blissful wartime rations
of water or passion
your cotton skin and these sheets
bold statements between white teeth
it’s all a fading mystery
you said I’m something childlike
your hands are stained cherry
and even if they were around my neck
I’d whisper your name like a vesper
simply waiting
for the day to come where it all fades
because you refuse to be a
young god
no matter how it seems to be
to me in all of my naivety

My soul is starving.
to death to death to death.

Somebody
walk me to the store.

It's four in the morning
it's not as cold
as it should be.

I realized resistance
weighs you down &
you sink into "the ****;"
you don't need to be
the current or
go with the flow
just try floating
for survival so
you don't drown.

My head is flooded with
thoughts & doubts & worries
about nothing.
The eye of the storm
looks like yours which
looks like mine.

Like you could tell
we're dead inside

we're ever-expanding
supernova
egotistical suicide
exploding in the night
& fizzling to a spark
that's a spark because
they said it's a spark.
& everyone nods.

Live for awkward silence
or die alone complacent.

commonplace

dreams do not chase themselves,
you, or anyone else.
this realm is not that special.

you should know
I've never been so comfortable.
it's making me uneasy.

this kind of greed
is completely fine with me.

chaos. neat.

It's true, what E.E. Cummings said. "Unless you love someone, nothing else makes sense." And that is just it really. And I do not mean a friendly love; I am talking about when my heart is beating so fast that my whole being is shooting off some vibration, some frequency because of another human's effect on me. That feeling of complete willingness growing deep in the pit of my stomach to let this person crush me into dust. It is the electric shock through my body when they brush up against my skin for the first time and I savor that moment. The moment I get to touch the most precious surface my fingertips have ever come across. It is the seconds spent wondering if the other person feels the same and this mixture of anxiety and ecstasy swimming up and down and pulsing in spirals through my limbs into my soul. It is the moment that person clasps my hand for the first time and they look straight into my eyes and that person knows that I have died. The me that once existed has gone and now I have been released by this omnipotent touch, as if every small movement of their fingers create an ethereal melody that only gods could hear. It is that moment I no longer exist because the love for that other person has filled up my entire being; every atom, every pore, every cell, full of this apocalyptic passion. It is in that moment that I cannot take holding all of that love in, so my body begins to rip and tear at the seams, releasing an everlasting frenzy of fireworks that is my spirit. And it is in that moment when I feel nothing but adoration and gratitude for this other being. This other being that managed to slide right past me, existing all of this time without me knowing. It is in the realization of not knowing how I was even considered a human being before I met them and knowing I will never be the same because of them. It is in the realization that this person could go away at any moment leaving me crushed and still I find myself clinging to every second with them as if time was going extinct.
Loving someone is the sole reason we are alive. Most people think of love as just a single emotion, but it is so much more; it truly is. Love is a magnetic pull, so ancient and so instinctual and so deep in our subconscious that we cannot even recognize its true gleam. Love is time and every moment spent cherishing another being for exactly who they are, what they were and who they hope to be. Love is the disintegration of all individualistic, egotistical or selfish thoughts that have ever preoccupied my mind and the birth of compassion, respect, bliss, unity and the true beauty of imperfection. Love is the meeting of two individual souls to watch each and every proton, neutron and electron merge and form a whole new entity. The perfect whole; the golden ratio of two spirits combined, spiraling into infinity. Love transcends the eminent departure that awaits it because it unites the part of human beings that is eternal. It is the only thing that can bond what is immortal. Love pulls me in like a spinning funnel cloud only to project me above into the cosmos, where I can fully experience the true effects of love. I get the chance to actually feel another person's soul twirling its way up, around and through myself exposing who I truly am and the being I become once met with the one I love. It murders the fear that love could perhaps be mortal and sends light to our worlds revealing a hidden Utopia. Love is. How can you expect one single part of the universe to make sense without it?

It feels more times than not
My character is misconceived
Wherein my affinity for emotion is
Either ill received, or begs condescension
Such vindictive decrees for
Souls just as flawed as me
The difference is
Mine are the only flaws that I can see.

Void of emotion?
I prefer to think that I can
Differentiate between
A fleeting feel
And what is real -
What of the lack of social devotion?
I am only at my best
Around those who create from the heart
I discard the rest, because
I am the company I keep,
And I've kept from the start.

Over the top flattery?
I beg to differ.
You mistake the way I speak and the things I do
For my romantic battery
The thought of which makes me quiver -
It says a little something about you, too.
You fail to see
That I can so naturally
Draw emotion from the smallest of things
Do you think it is through arrogance that I sing?
A highly internalized being, who only creates things
To feed an insatiable egotistical craving?
Clearly the life that you lead
Is just lacking fantasy, or a sense of meaning...

I have met people who are metaphorical gateways,
No, actual ley lines of human creativity.
I wonder if their work would
Make you question your brand
Of Humanity.

Goodbye
Disgusting excuse of a friend
A confidant
I used to hold such confidence in,
Now a sickly
Pseudo relationship.
You and I
A Despicable desert dry
Duo
I can't spend another second
At this pathetic pretending
That you can offer anything to anyone
But a narcissistic notion
And a nerve-racking
neuroses of the mind
The universe is out to get you
I curse my oblivious self
I had forgotten you are the single
Cohabiter on Earth
Ah, yes
You are undefeated
At the blame game
I've tried to hold honor in defeat
But, I don't have an ounce of energy left
For your egotistical world
You unhinged
Dark gate
You let your steed of self-obsession
Out to stampede the sincerest hearts
You don't even see the *****
Destruction
You deal out
From your deprived reciprocity
Alcohol, your only ailment
Your **** filled words
Tossed out lament and futile
This is where we go our divided way
I will not claim even a freckle on your face
As a friend
I will not look back
Nostalgia is not necessary
I will detach myself from your
Leach like misery
And I'll slowly build strength back
A blood flow of enraged fierceness
Has circulated through my core
And it will be as if
I never had any bit
Of me
Belonging to you
Friend, now foe
Farewell

Soft skin
Caressed by rough hands
All my senses flurry
White beauty of mine
hidden behind dirt and grime
a creamy tartar of decadence

Undulating and writhing
a cosmic display of euphoria
as graceful as conception itself
I find the good in the bad
and the bad oh so good

Two tiny hands wrapped in mine
the egotistical tango
as we dance our life away
consumed by our self

The tide of emotion
washes away
my pride and envy gone
replaced with humility and love
and skin so soft
it's almost intangible.