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"euthanize" poems
I don't know you, but I feel you right from the get-go. You go about your routine that lassoed my heart into you, you who prance around the vastness of my dreamscape. I come to recognize your presence only in my sleep, at the very least that's what I know. In that hazy, twisted world of subconscious shuffling, we find ourselves sitting cozily, face to face, at a table outside that rustic coffee shop. Honeyed words and laughters sprightly echo from that very spot where only a vase of freshly cut chrysanthemum sets two bodies and heat apart, longing. Sometimes, we glorify sunsets at the shoreline. Sometimes, we sound our inane daredevil yawp at a cliff. Sometimes, we simply stargaze and draw across the skies Cassiopeia and Ursa Major. We embrace the beauty of chaos we often find ourselves walking aimlessly along that busy thoroughfare before we head back home; normally we exchange random thoughts about school, my fascination with Rand's objectivist framework, your addiction to Cobain's craft and story, my weakness over falling in love too fast, your resilience and hope in times of defeat. We are wired to each other in a special way, so special that it all has to be in lucid dreams. Feelings are intense. Kisses euthanize the butterflies. Midnight cuddles are soulful  calisthenics. Holding each other's hand  is infinite. You present to me a self that is nurtured by its soul. I think I love you in my sleep. I feel happy with everything that goes with closing my eyes and letting dreams of the world I created creep into my consciousness. In such a realm I don't know you, but I feel you right from the get-go. Do you see me in your sleep, too?
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Dec 23, 2013
Dec 23, 2013 at 10:04 PM UTC
Misplaced reality
I don't know you, but I feel you right from the get-go. You go about your routine that lassoed my heart into you, you who prance around the vastness of my dreamscape. I come to recognize your presence only in my sleep, at the very least that's what I know. In that hazy, twisted world of subconscious shuffling, we find ourselves sitting cozily, face to face, at a table outside that rustic coffee shop. Honeyed words and laughters sprightly echo from that very spot where only a vase of freshly cut chrysanthemum sets two bodies and heat apart, longing. Sometimes, we glorify sunsets at the shoreline. Sometimes, we sound our inane daredevil yawp at a cliff. Sometimes, we simply stargaze and draw across the skies Cassiopeia and Ursa Major. We embrace the beauty of chaos we often find ourselves walking aimlessly along that busy thoroughfare before we head back home; normally we exchange random thoughts about school, my fascination with Rand's objectivist framework, your addiction to Cobain's craft and story, my weakness over falling in love too fast, your resilience and hope in times of defeat. We are wired to each other in a special way, so special that it all has to be in lucid dreams. Feelings are intense. Kisses euthanize the butterflies. Midnight cuddles are soulful  calisthenics. Holding each other's hand  is infinite. You present to me a self that is nurtured by its soul. I think I love you in my sleep. I feel happy with everything that goes with closing my eyes and letting dreams of the world I created creep into my consciousness. In such a realm I don't know you, but I feel you right from the get-go. Do you see me in your sleep, too?
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7
After My Little Black Dog Died of Melanoma. After the Lumps on Her Small Brittle Body Slowly Burned to a Pile of Ash in the Vet’s Office.  After My Step-Father Drove in His Ostentatious Truck to Pick Up Her Remains.  After I Cried in My Dorm Room and Tried Not to Wake My Roommate.   Realization that My Loss Does Not Make Me Different.  There Are Graveyards That Span For Miles and They Are Filled With More Dead Bodies Than I Have Ever Seen.  There Are Hundreds of Thousands of Children in the Foster Care System That Have Never Met Their Parents or Maybe They Did and it Just Didn’t Work Out. Kids Who Might Have Lived With Their Terminally Ill Parent(s) For Years Not Just Days.  Kids Who Never Sat in the Opened Up Trunk of Their Mother’s Black Nissan Pathfinder at the Drive-In Movies.  Kids Who Lived Too Far From Their Too Old Grandparents or Who Lived Too Far From Their Too Dead Grandparents.  Kids Who Were Never Told Not to Throw Snowballs Because There Might be Big Chunks of Ice in Them.  Kids Who Never Had a Childhood Dog to Cry Over.  Kids Who Don’t Like to Read Because They Were Never Read Bedtime Stories When They Were Younger.  Kids Whose Mothers Never Called Them Tweetie or Pumpkin or Honey or ***   Kids That Were Not Told to Just Go to the Bathroom When Their Tummies Hurt Instead of the Health Room.  Kids Who Never Listened to the Spice Girls’ Album Spice World on Cassette on the Way to the Store.  Kids Who Never Got a Peach Drink Out of a Vending Machine at the Pick’N’Save on 27th  Street and Still Don’t Know Exactly What 50¢ Peach Drink Their Mother Bought For Them.   There Are Thousands of Dogs Euthanized Each Day Because of How Sick They Are or Because They Were at a Shelter For Far Too Long or Because They Are a Pitbull or a Rottweiler or Some Other Irrationally Feared and Disliked Dog Breed.  We Didn’t Euthanize My Stage-Four-Cancer-Stricken Dog or Even Get Her Treatment Beyond Pain Medicine Because We Were Selfish.  We Do a Lot of Things Because We Are Selfish.  We Waited Five Days to Pull the Plug on My Vegetable Mother Because We Were Waiting For a Miracle That We Knew Would Never Happen Because She Stopped Breathing the Moment the Aneurysm Burst.  My Sister is Getting Married in June and My Grandfather is Going to Walk Her Down the Aisle in My Mother’s Place.  My Grandparents Had to Move In With My Sister After My Grandmother Fell Down Too Many Times and Didn’t Take Her Health Problems Serious Enough.  There Are Repercussions For Thinking You Are Safe When You Are Really Not.
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Mar 8, 2016
Mar 8, 2016 at 10:18 PM UTC
Sadie
After My Little Black Dog Died of Melanoma. After the Lumps on Her Small Brittle Body Slowly Burned to a Pile of Ash in the Vet’s Office.  After My Step-Father Drove in His Ostentatious Truck to Pick Up Her Remains.  After I Cried in My Dorm Room and Tried Not to Wake My Roommate.   Realization that My Loss Does Not Make Me Different.  There Are Graveyards That Span For Miles and They Are Filled With More Dead Bodies Than I Have Ever Seen.  There Are Hundreds of Thousands of Children in the Foster Care System That Have Never Met Their Parents or Maybe They Did and it Just Didn’t Work Out. Kids Who Might Have Lived With Their Terminally Ill Parent(s) For Years Not Just Days.  Kids Who Never Sat in the Opened Up Trunk of Their Mother’s Black Nissan Pathfinder at the Drive-In Movies.  Kids Who Lived Too Far From Their Too Old Grandparents or Who Lived Too Far From Their Too Dead Grandparents.  Kids Who Were Never Told Not to Throw Snowballs Because There Might be Big Chunks of Ice in Them.  Kids Who Never Had a Childhood Dog to Cry Over.  Kids Who Don’t Like to Read Because They Were Never Read Bedtime Stories When They Were Younger.  Kids Whose Mothers Never Called Them Tweetie or Pumpkin or Honey or ***   Kids That Were Not Told to Just Go to the Bathroom When Their Tummies Hurt Instead of the Health Room.  Kids Who Never Listened to the Spice Girls’ Album Spice World on Cassette on the Way to the Store.  Kids Who Never Got a Peach Drink Out of a Vending Machine at the Pick’N’Save on 27th  Street and Still Don’t Know Exactly What 50¢ Peach Drink Their Mother Bought For Them.   There Are Thousands of Dogs Euthanized Each Day Because of How Sick They Are or Because They Were at a Shelter For Far Too Long or Because They Are a Pitbull or a Rottweiler or Some Other Irrationally Feared and Disliked Dog Breed.  We Didn’t Euthanize My Stage-Four-Cancer-Stricken Dog or Even Get Her Treatment Beyond Pain Medicine Because We Were Selfish.  We Do a Lot of Things Because We Are Selfish.  We Waited Five Days to Pull the Plug on My Vegetable Mother Because We Were Waiting For a Miracle That We Knew Would Never Happen Because She Stopped Breathing the Moment the Aneurysm Burst.  My Sister is Getting Married in June and My Grandfather is Going to Walk Her Down the Aisle in My Mother’s Place.  My Grandparents Had to Move In With My Sister After My Grandmother Fell Down Too Many Times and Didn’t Take Her Health Problems Serious Enough.  There Are Repercussions For Thinking You Are Safe When You Are Really Not.
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37
the harmony of discordant tunes infiltrates mind closed to thought strewn against wind in the onslaught of scattered steely voices attuned to this one alone messages of self-loathing that medication covers over the bandage merely adequate a stale, small blanket wooley euthanize thought unapologetically strident so that this one can finally sleep dreamlessly
0
Feb 7, 2012
Feb 7, 2012 at 1:37 PM UTC
Cacophony
I remember being small The adults were in charge They knew what they were doing If something made me sad It was going to be okay If I was mad I got told to calm down I was stubborn I fought I resisted But I listened It took becoming a parent To understand You don't know what the **** you are doing either Even though you might know a little bit more The worst day of my life back then Was if my bike tire was flat Or my videogame wouldn't work If I didn't get my way, I would selfishly act like a **** Being a child and innocent Slipped out of our fingers At a speed we couldn't stop Never seeing the picture for how big it really was My first role in being an adult Was having my first dog And taking it for walks You have to take a **** at 2AM? Sure, why not? I will take you out Because you are my friend The love I felt for this dog, and friend Was put to the test When it was hit by a cab My choice to euthanize My friend, her end I joined the army Only a year or so after And became a father somewhere in the mix I've always treated my son Like a future man Not telling him what he can't But what he can I understand the pain of being a parent now But I accept this blessing as something true I wouldn't trade it for the world Would you?
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Dec 5, 2015
Dec 5, 2015 at 1:53 AM UTC
Adult Evolution
Drown Cincinnati, drown! We sang from the balcony, Give up your blood and sweat and be cleansed! And as they drowned below they called to me for help, But I'm sorry brothers, I have looked in to the gaping jaws of Hell and I cannot go back! Euthanize your idols, burn your high fashion statements! Build a bonfire of your vanities! Your ancestors ***** the Native American people and now you bear their graven image on your T-Shirt Oh but how they were HOLY Holy is the slogan sewed in to the denim Holy is anarchist ideal held together by safety pins and hairspray Nursing at the breast of punk's decrepit corpse, You read the eulogy, screamed "Anarchy in the UK!" In to the microphone Although you never left American soil
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Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 12:50 AM UTC
Punk
This loveless shell Has no pulse, Just an ache. Has no emotion, Only time. No more friends. No desire. Countless scars. Left in howling night, infinitive. Stripped. Anonymous. Wanting. I'm not afraid to die. But mercy terrifies. Euthanize this wounded beast. I am a ghost in your wake.
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Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 6:08 PM UTC
Howl
Maybe we were meant to drift apart, Maybe you were meant to taste something sweeter. And maybe I was meant to stay right here, Maybe I was meant to be all bitter. Maybe I was meant to watch people fall, Maybe I was meant to write it down. Maybe I was meant to stay right here, Maybe I was meant to feel so down. And maybe it wasn't meant for me to touch love, Or touch hearts, or veins. Maybe it was meant for them, So I could observe it and tell the difference. Now it's all ****** up, I was meant to grief for all that I've wasted. I was meant to notice that there's no chance for me to win it, I was meant to **** the person in the past full of happiness. I was meant to be lonely. Alone, Dark, Blue. Whatever it is, I'm just sad Or something more. But maybe that's not it, Maybe you're not the last. Maybe I could still have a chance, Maybe cupid still got his plans. Maybe it was still the right decision, Maybe the decision was for you to taste more, To taste something better. Maybe it was for you to evolve from a mud into a gold. And maybe it was also for me, For me to end what I've been destroying. No! It is not you who I've been trying to euthanize. It was me all along, You've received your freedom. You've told me that I am forgiven. Maybe, Just maybe.. It's time for me to forgive myself, And share my deepest ******* affection again.
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May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 9:09 AM UTC
Mik Mors(Maybe)
A dog is outside just sitting there food was left nearby but dog just stands langidly outside looking in in it's hometown Kemah the dog won't move nor bark it's whining and whimpering    For too long a time the dog waited outside the red steel rddbba spare room building where the master of the house gets in a daily basis to write a love letter waiting for his first love to arrive to read them BBA/RDD. naturally dog just sits there watching other women getting in there reading unauthorized his love letters but dog dears not bark fearing they might call the pond the animal control to cage and euthanize even the winning dog outside looking in, understands something that others inside there looking out know too well to keep dog outside looking in to die thinking victory that it is too late to get inside the red building or to be taken in as a family member a pet to be loved protected taken to the bet for first aid to tend dogs old and new wounds given a collar a name some bones toys and a bedding. it's believed some people are like big dane dogs arriving at the right time to a home not built for them and forcing their way in free to roam begin to discover treasures never saught by it's original rightful intended ownner now outside looking in. This battered smaller breed circus bagabund dog langidly looking in forever waiting for the master of the house to run out to pet feed protect the long awaited pet the left behind because it simply seemed not to able to bark or to follow or beg for it all within time. this circus dog whimpering shivering cold outside looking in might just be the spirit soul of the one who loves you the most in this whole wide world true love. ~~~~~~ By: Karijinbba 03/18/2020.
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Mar 15, 2020
Mar 15, 2020 at 1:14 PM UTC
Outside Looking in
A dog is outside just sitting there food was left nearby but dog just stands langidly outside looking in in it's hometown Kemah the dog won't move nor bark it's whining and whimpering    For too long a time the dog waited outside the red steel rddbba spare room building where the master of the house gets in a daily basis to write a love letter waiting for his first love to arrive to read them BBA/RDD. naturally dog just sits there watching other women getting in there reading unauthorized his love letters but dog dears not bark fearing they might call the pond the animal control to cage and euthanize even the winning dog outside looking in, understands something that others inside there looking out know too well to keep dog outside looking in to die thinking victory that it is too late to get inside the red building or to be taken in as a family member a pet to be loved protected taken to the bet for first aid to tend dogs old and new wounds given a collar a name some bones toys and a bedding. it's believed some people are like big dane dogs arriving at the right time to a home not built for them and forcing their way in free to roam begin to discover treasures never saught by it's original rightful intended ownner now outside looking in. This battered smaller breed circus bagabund dog langidly looking in forever waiting for the master of the house to run out to pet feed protect the long awaited pet the left behind because it simply seemed not to able to bark or to follow or beg for it all within time. this circus dog whimpering shivering cold outside looking in might just be the spirit soul of the one who loves you the most in this whole wide world true love. ~~~~~~ By: Karijinbba 03/18/2020.
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42
I feel cold in every tiny vein! In every second, every part of me is deprived from life! As if the Hope I had with Love being euthanize! I won't feel the warmth anymore!                            I won't feel Myself or My Heart anymore!                                       I've been discharged from....                                                        Life!
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Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 5:34 AM UTC
Euthanize...
April showers bring with them atomic flowers, strewn about Elena’s hair, her forest painted the colors of Red Square. Children play in the fun zone where radiation particles are active and windblown, forming flakes on rosy cheeks, floating down toxic creeks. The smell of graphite burning in a kiln makes the nostrils flare, what’s this metallic taste in the air? Clouds drift over weddings and Ferris wheels, rain falls black and surreal. Mother goes about her routine humming dirges like a godless fiend. 36 hours to figure the science, past time to evacuate a city in brisk silence. Brides scream and children cry, from the fall-out they mummify. Pripyat’s dying metropolis they euthanize and lay to rest in a sarcophagus. And atop her shallow grave, deep within the exclusion zone, sit the sickened stems and decaying fragrance of nuclear flora over bone. Here in the jackal's sanctum, a capsule car on the lifeless pleasure wheel swings like a pendulum, over a wooded lot with not a soul in sight, only fresh morbid blooms that glow in the night.
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Aug 7, 2020
Aug 7, 2020 at 9:50 AM UTC
Atomic Flowers
The only patience we had for belibers was spent in a quick game of operation and listening to the music their god produced, who may I mention is the age of barely legal. Let me be clear Justin Beiber the death of your belibers was no accident actually it was a genocide. Our purpose was to take out your dooncoff belibers and believe us it worked since your here to see them go 6 feet under beneath us. Don't get jealous cause you're next, yes this is a eulogy but low key this is a meeting on taking you out. First we take out the army now we moving onto the commander slash general. we're going to assassinate you, my bad that implies you're famous, we're going to euthanize you put you down like a dog but its not going to be a one and done shot, naw, ima have more arms on stand by like a centipede using the 2nd admendment to the fullest extent of the law , my bullets will be hitting on you so much that you will think they was flirting with you just like start of your euthanized dooncoff belibers club.
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May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 11:28 AM UTC
Euthanize dooncoff belibers
Release me from this hell hole Of feelings not yet felt Of words not yet said Of people not yet met Of relationships too soon set Release me from this hell hole I beg of you, please I cannot sit here and listen To the petty problems of Society. Especially when they Fall out of my mouth. How could I be affected By crap that has no meaning? Why do I pretend that any of this Will matter in the end? Why am I so ignorant of The life I should be living? How could I take part in being A normal teen, when that right Was taken at birth? There are issues and problems And then there is my life. The embodiment of disappointment, My life serves the perfect example Of what happens when cultures are Mixed by the hands of inexperienced Adults, that think they know best.
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Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 8:20 AM UTC
Release and Euthanize are one and the same.
_Trigger warning: Suicidal thoughts/ideation_ I want it I do I want to die I want to be dead I am done living Living has only brought me pain Only offered me sorrow To **** me would be to show mercy Euthanize the suffering I w̴̳̆ant ̴͕͝t̵͇́o̶̥͋ diē̸̩ I'm̷̩͆ ̸̪̈ṛ̸͆eaḋ̸̪y to̷̲̓ ̵̘͠d̷͉͑ie ̷̬̚Ì̴̧ can̷̖͘'̷̬̅t̶̳͘ ̵͙͑die I̵͎̪̤̐͝ ̶͇̜̖͂̃ẁ̵̳͓̘̾a̷̗̩̤̥̿n̶̖͝ͅṱ̶̾̒͗͆ ̶̢͔͇͑̐̓͗t̷̟̘̲͌̍͝o̵̯̊͗ ̸̨̨̃d̴̙̥͚̅̓͛͆͜i̷̘̬͍͍̐ȇ̸͎ ̷̛̰̦̝̩̑̐Ỉ̵͔̼̝'̶͎̬̀m̴̠̓͆ ̷̼̀r̴̦̖͕̦̊̏̐̾ẹ̵̢̙̭̓a̵̹̤̎̉͑d̷͉̓̎͜ͅy̷̛̲͍̔͛͐ ̵̡̰̯̉t̵̳̓ȯ̸̮͍͜ ̷̙̘̎d̴̹̝̘̄̌́̈́ȋ̵̞͔̉̑ͅě̸̡͈̞ ̴̞͉̹̓̇I̴̤̙̪͓̊̂ ̴̜͍̣̌͘c̸͕̋̍́á̷̬̝̽́͊n̸̨͛̚͘'̵̡̦̙̏t̸̛̺͔̓͗ ̴̱̖͈̌͒d̴̗̃̐͘i̵̯̋̔̑̃ë̴̦̳̯̲́ I̷͇̥̲̮̔̋̋́̃̅̑̐͠ ̷͙̫͈̜̬͓͛́̋͌́̎́ͅͅw̴̧̛̞͈͓̱̠͈̙̲͉̥̱̱͎̐̒̅̈̌͐͑̓̇͗͆̚̕͜͜͜͠͝͠͠ͅa̶̢̪͈͚̻̦̳̤̭̰̫̬̤͇̲̋͑͐͛͑͗͂̕̚͝ͅͅn̷̛̻̲̹̙̖̻̋̅̊͋̈͑̐̀̂̏́̈́̒̄̓̂̽̈́̃̆͜͝͝t̸͍̘̰̦͕̥̹̹͚̳͔͖̫̠͉̱͇̗̪͇̋̔̐̀̓̎̽̃̋̇̓͘͘ͅ ̷̤̭̞̮̗̤̱͓̟̙̲̾̀͜ͅť̷̨̛͓͓͈͓̫͔̝̳̱̘̱̘̲̙̖̪́̀̒͗̈̀̈̎͑͜͜͝o̶̧̡̡͉̱̤̺͈͎̭̠̤̩̰̞̩̣̩̪̠̺͌̇̆̏̂̒̋͒̍̈́ ̷͉̪̀̊́́̅̃͋̕̚͘d̴̢̖͖̲̭̹̪͎̥̼̜̼͍̝͍̤̩̞̹̈̈́̈́͌͜ͅį̶̡̢̻͉̰̙̙͚̹͍̝̮̭̑͊̎͝e̸̡̨̛̼̖͉̫̣̣͍̭̺̬̳͌̍̓͘̚͜͜͜ ̴̪͍̞̖̖̼͕̳̘͔͍͖̓͒̋̇̀̐̉̒͑̒̌̓͋̈́̂ͅ ̴̧̧̧̡̡͈̭͎̘͙̥͚̮̗̤͙̫͑̎̅̈̊͊͌̐͗̈́̓͛̃͝ ̶̡̧̨̨̨̛̫̝͎̖͎̞͔͔͈͈̥̭̦̖̪͈͐̎̆̎͊̑̄̓͐͘Ḯ̶̧̡̛̛͍̯̹͔͎̖̞̭̦̖̈́͐̀̀̒̔͒͋͑̌͂͘̚͜'̵̡̛̱̜̰̳̭̯̱̞̤̥͉̱͓̣͈͚̟̱͚̖͙̿͋̇̎͗̃̀̄̀͐̅͘ḿ̶̡̯͚̬͕͉̜̟̘̱̙̝͍̼̭̞̻̣̝̉̂̀̽̕ ̵̡̢͈͎͈͖̯̗̜̰͖̲͈̬͚̮̈́̈́̑́̚ͅr̵̟̥̥̭̖̯̰͔̯̞͖̺̗͉̬̖̪̹͚̔̆͂̈́̇̀̕͘͜͝e̸̙͓͔͕̬̙͖̽̇͂̂̈͒̄̈́̔̏͛́͆́͗̃̽̆̾͆͋͘̕a̵̧̨̢̧̮͖̙͓̝̟͓̗̥͈̰͊͂͌͊̄̂̎̓̎̈́͂̈́̾ͅͅd̶̢̨̖͙̦͕̲͈̰̯͕͎̬̼̔̈̍̉͛̏̈́̆̑̐̄̐̽́͊̄̾͑͌̕̕ÿ̵̧̡̛̛̩̭̱̖͈̖͎́͌̑́͗̈́͗̀̀̊̚ ̴̡̻̺̹͆͂͗̇̐͌t̶̢͚̣̓̅́̎̉̽̇͌͗̊̾̾̊͌̑͌͘͠͝ṓ̷̢̳̋͂̇͘͝ ̷̔͊̾̉̐̅̋́ͅd̴̡͉̫̺͔̹̜̘̝̻̳͖̙͗͋̈̀̇͑͆͂̀̐̊̽͊̎̑̈̃͆͘̕͜͜͠i̴̛̙̗̍̐̍́͒̔̈́e̶̛̖̱̯̪͋̀́͌͠ ̶̛̫̼̰̟̳̻̦̱͈̯̃̔̀͂͒͑͊͒̆̃͐̿͒͝͝ͅͅ ̵̢̨̨̹̘̱̖̩͔̳̦̦͓̭̤̭̹̗͎͍̬̻̈́̈́͆̽́̑̏͑̑̓̽̆̀̈́̅͆̓́͜͝͝ ̴̼̦̆̓͗͒Ī̶̧͙̰̘̘͙̺̺͖̦̫͍͕̲͖̺̣̱͔̖̍͌̀͛̕͘͝ͅ ̷̛̠̤̻͔̰̠̣͈̹͈͔̟̮̉͌̉̚͘c̴̢̡̛̜̹̺̻̪̠̯͗͗̑̇̍̄͋́̌̈̍̑͒͑͘ȃ̵̛̟͇̜̻̲͚̘͎̱̮̦̘̇́͊̑͌͊̋͛̄͆͜ͅn̵̤̻̩̯̝̈̅͒͒̈́̒͒͐̽̏̓͌͐̄̈́̕̚͘̚͠͝'̴̩̥̝̘͓͚͇͓̖͖̳̺̳̥͉̖̩̊̓̀̀̂̍͂̀́͛̐̈́̕͜͠͝ͅt̷̢̨̡͈͚̘͈̣͖͈̤̟͎̤̙̩̩͕͙͈̳̍̓͐͗̍̓̄̾͗͒̎̿̈̈́͘̚ ̴̛̜͉̜̀͂̊̀̾̿͂͌̒̋̿̀̈́̽ḑ̴̜̻͓͕̱̲̟͔̰̜̣̺̠͎̰̗̥̞͍̭̻̯̉̑͋̍̓̅͛͛̽̓͂̄́̓͊͗̉͛͘i̴̧̹̱̪̤͍͖̱͈͈͔͙̝̟̤͒̀̏̄̽͋̓̔̑̌̃̐͘̕͝ẽ̶̢̜̤̲̣̮̜̱͓̹̮͕͖͇̗͋̇́̀́͆̂̈́̊̋͋̈̅̈́̀͒̔̈͝͠ͅ
0
Nov 13, 2019
Nov 13, 2019 at 11:07 PM UTC
Morte
_Trigger warning: Suicidal thoughts/ideation_ I want it I do I want to die I want to be dead I am done living Living has only brought me pain Only offered me sorrow To **** me would be to show mercy Euthanize the suffering I w̴̳̆ant ̴͕͝t̵͇́o̶̥͋ diē̸̩ I'm̷̩͆ ̸̪̈ṛ̸͆eaḋ̸̪y to̷̲̓ ̵̘͠d̷͉͑ie ̷̬̚Ì̴̧ can̷̖͘'̷̬̅t̶̳͘ ̵͙͑die I̵͎̪̤̐͝ ̶͇̜̖͂̃ẁ̵̳͓̘̾a̷̗̩̤̥̿n̶̖͝ͅṱ̶̾̒͗͆ ̶̢͔͇͑̐̓͗t̷̟̘̲͌̍͝o̵̯̊͗ ̸̨̨̃d̴̙̥͚̅̓͛͆͜i̷̘̬͍͍̐ȇ̸͎ ̷̛̰̦̝̩̑̐Ỉ̵͔̼̝'̶͎̬̀m̴̠̓͆ ̷̼̀r̴̦̖͕̦̊̏̐̾ẹ̵̢̙̭̓a̵̹̤̎̉͑d̷͉̓̎͜ͅy̷̛̲͍̔͛͐ ̵̡̰̯̉t̵̳̓ȯ̸̮͍͜ ̷̙̘̎d̴̹̝̘̄̌́̈́ȋ̵̞͔̉̑ͅě̸̡͈̞ ̴̞͉̹̓̇I̴̤̙̪͓̊̂ ̴̜͍̣̌͘c̸͕̋̍́á̷̬̝̽́͊n̸̨͛̚͘'̵̡̦̙̏t̸̛̺͔̓͗ ̴̱̖͈̌͒d̴̗̃̐͘i̵̯̋̔̑̃ë̴̦̳̯̲́ I̷͇̥̲̮̔̋̋́̃̅̑̐͠ ̷͙̫͈̜̬͓͛́̋͌́̎́ͅͅw̴̧̛̞͈͓̱̠͈̙̲͉̥̱̱͎̐̒̅̈̌͐͑̓̇͗͆̚̕͜͜͜͠͝͠͠ͅa̶̢̪͈͚̻̦̳̤̭̰̫̬̤͇̲̋͑͐͛͑͗͂̕̚͝ͅͅn̷̛̻̲̹̙̖̻̋̅̊͋̈͑̐̀̂̏́̈́̒̄̓̂̽̈́̃̆͜͝͝t̸͍̘̰̦͕̥̹̹͚̳͔͖̫̠͉̱͇̗̪͇̋̔̐̀̓̎̽̃̋̇̓͘͘ͅ ̷̤̭̞̮̗̤̱͓̟̙̲̾̀͜ͅť̷̨̛͓͓͈͓̫͔̝̳̱̘̱̘̲̙̖̪́̀̒͗̈̀̈̎͑͜͜͝o̶̧̡̡͉̱̤̺͈͎̭̠̤̩̰̞̩̣̩̪̠̺͌̇̆̏̂̒̋͒̍̈́ ̷͉̪̀̊́́̅̃͋̕̚͘d̴̢̖͖̲̭̹̪͎̥̼̜̼͍̝͍̤̩̞̹̈̈́̈́͌͜ͅį̶̡̢̻͉̰̙̙͚̹͍̝̮̭̑͊̎͝e̸̡̨̛̼̖͉̫̣̣͍̭̺̬̳͌̍̓͘̚͜͜͜ ̴̪͍̞̖̖̼͕̳̘͔͍͖̓͒̋̇̀̐̉̒͑̒̌̓͋̈́̂ͅ ̴̧̧̧̡̡͈̭͎̘͙̥͚̮̗̤͙̫͑̎̅̈̊͊͌̐͗̈́̓͛̃͝ ̶̡̧̨̨̨̛̫̝͎̖͎̞͔͔͈͈̥̭̦̖̪͈͐̎̆̎͊̑̄̓͐͘Ḯ̶̧̡̛̛͍̯̹͔͎̖̞̭̦̖̈́͐̀̀̒̔͒͋͑̌͂͘̚͜'̵̡̛̱̜̰̳̭̯̱̞̤̥͉̱͓̣͈͚̟̱͚̖͙̿͋̇̎͗̃̀̄̀͐̅͘ḿ̶̡̯͚̬͕͉̜̟̘̱̙̝͍̼̭̞̻̣̝̉̂̀̽̕ ̵̡̢͈͎͈͖̯̗̜̰͖̲͈̬͚̮̈́̈́̑́̚ͅr̵̟̥̥̭̖̯̰͔̯̞͖̺̗͉̬̖̪̹͚̔̆͂̈́̇̀̕͘͜͝e̸̙͓͔͕̬̙͖̽̇͂̂̈͒̄̈́̔̏͛́͆́͗̃̽̆̾͆͋͘̕a̵̧̨̢̧̮͖̙͓̝̟͓̗̥͈̰͊͂͌͊̄̂̎̓̎̈́͂̈́̾ͅͅd̶̢̨̖͙̦͕̲͈̰̯͕͎̬̼̔̈̍̉͛̏̈́̆̑̐̄̐̽́͊̄̾͑͌̕̕ÿ̵̧̡̛̛̩̭̱̖͈̖͎́͌̑́͗̈́͗̀̀̊̚ ̴̡̻̺̹͆͂͗̇̐͌t̶̢͚̣̓̅́̎̉̽̇͌͗̊̾̾̊͌̑͌͘͠͝ṓ̷̢̳̋͂̇͘͝ ̷̔͊̾̉̐̅̋́ͅd̴̡͉̫̺͔̹̜̘̝̻̳͖̙͗͋̈̀̇͑͆͂̀̐̊̽͊̎̑̈̃͆͘̕͜͜͠i̴̛̙̗̍̐̍́͒̔̈́e̶̛̖̱̯̪͋̀́͌͠ ̶̛̫̼̰̟̳̻̦̱͈̯̃̔̀͂͒͑͊͒̆̃͐̿͒͝͝ͅͅ ̵̢̨̨̹̘̱̖̩͔̳̦̦͓̭̤̭̹̗͎͍̬̻̈́̈́͆̽́̑̏͑̑̓̽̆̀̈́̅͆̓́͜͝͝ ̴̼̦̆̓͗͒Ī̶̧͙̰̘̘͙̺̺͖̦̫͍͕̲͖̺̣̱͔̖̍͌̀͛̕͘͝ͅ ̷̛̠̤̻͔̰̠̣͈̹͈͔̟̮̉͌̉̚͘c̴̢̡̛̜̹̺̻̪̠̯͗͗̑̇̍̄͋́̌̈̍̑͒͑͘ȃ̵̛̟͇̜̻̲͚̘͎̱̮̦̘̇́͊̑͌͊̋͛̄͆͜ͅn̵̤̻̩̯̝̈̅͒͒̈́̒͒͐̽̏̓͌͐̄̈́̕̚͘̚͠͝'̴̩̥̝̘͓͚͇͓̖͖̳̺̳̥͉̖̩̊̓̀̀̂̍͂̀́͛̐̈́̕͜͠͝ͅt̷̢̨̡͈͚̘͈̣͖͈̤̟͎̤̙̩̩͕͙͈̳̍̓͐͗̍̓̄̾͗͒̎̿̈̈́͘̚ ̴̛̜͉̜̀͂̊̀̾̿͂͌̒̋̿̀̈́̽ḑ̴̜̻͓͕̱̲̟͔̰̜̣̺̠͎̰̗̥̞͍̭̻̯̉̑͋̍̓̅͛͛̽̓͂̄́̓͊͗̉͛͘i̴̧̹̱̪̤͍͖̱͈͈͔͙̝̟̤͒̀̏̄̽͋̓̔̑̌̃̐͘̕͝ẽ̶̢̜̤̲̣̮̜̱͓̹̮͕͖͇̗͋̇́̀́͆̂̈́̊̋͋̈̅̈́̀͒̔̈͝͠ͅ
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Despite being atheist, with serpent teen eyes, I would nonetheless bet Eve fen number guys named Adam, or gals noel lies (christened) dollars to donuts (Dunkin and/or otherwise) Jesus would be mighty pleased to know, his sir name linkedin with commercial ties, no matter, he might not garner rise zen percentage of profits, no matter spies infiltrate competition especially if he unwittingly gets trampled and cries amidst chaos (think euthanize) untimely death by madding wise flash mob crowd source realize last seconds rushing to snap up latest jamb door prize as venders resort to all manner of (subliminally manipulative) marketing techniques to lure patrons, (especially photo opportunities with one of the many "FAKE" donned Santa Claus), the latter, who would lionize their son(s) and/or apprise daughter(s), subsequently guaranteeing, nailing crosswise, and clinching safeguards exercise immunization against the Grinch sure fire way to manure er... fertilize guarantee future generations rise zing will become avid consumers, who reverently, obsequiously, and devoutly idolize supporting the apostles who revolutionize creative commercialization to capitalize nearly every Cyber Monday occasion to finalize (all sales) pennies on the dollar, where merchants feign going for broke, and capitalize eulogize, and idealize the mighty buck staging "FAKE" news worthy shoppers to burst into tears crying on command, and all manner of pathos pulling ploys nsync king "shameful guilt" that squares with being ostracized, hash-tagged, and demonized Scrooge.
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Dec 14, 2019
Dec 14, 2019 at 1:14 AM UTC
The Bajillion Dollar Business Of Christmas circa December 2019
Despite being atheist, with serpent teen eyes, I would nonetheless bet Eve fen number guys named Adam, or gals noel lies (christened) dollars to donuts (Dunkin and/or otherwise) Jesus would be mighty pleased to know, his sir name linkedin with commercial ties, no matter, he might not garner rise zen percentage of profits, no matter spies infiltrate competition especially if he unwittingly gets trampled and cries amidst chaos (think euthanize) untimely death by madding wise flash mob crowd source realize last seconds rushing to snap up latest jamb door prize as venders resort to all manner of (subliminally manipulative) marketing techniques to lure patrons, (especially photo opportunities with one of the many "FAKE" donned Santa Claus), the latter, who would lionize their son(s) and/or apprise daughter(s), subsequently guaranteeing, nailing crosswise, and clinching safeguards exercise immunization against the Grinch sure fire way to manure er... fertilize guarantee future generations rise zing will become avid consumers, who reverently, obsequiously, and devoutly idolize supporting the apostles who revolutionize creative commercialization to capitalize nearly every Cyber Monday occasion to finalize (all sales) pennies on the dollar, where merchants feign going for broke, and capitalize eulogize, and idealize the mighty buck staging "FAKE" news worthy shoppers to burst into tears crying on command, and all manner of pathos pulling ploys nsync king "shameful guilt" that squares with being ostracized, hash-tagged, and demonized Scrooge.
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He left this place just so he'd never have to look into his own eyes again. I'd leave this place just so I can look into his eyes again.
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Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 10:14 PM UTC
Euthanize Me
gotta go and get a gun put a bullet in it's head squeeze that ******* trigger till I'm sure it's good and dead should have been done a long time ago should have been done a long time push a little button send it back where it belongs i ain't coming back until i know it's good and gone should have never been done, my friend should have never been done gotta put it down before it blows up in my face now i know there ain't no use in trying to run away don't know what I was thinking, girl don't know what I was thinking nothing left but trouble if I don't act pretty fast nothing is forever, mister nothing ever lasts gotta find a way to move on now gotta find a way to move on looked for it in the mirror but all i see is me and that ain't even who I am what should i believe gonna hang it on a tree tonight, son gonna hang it on a tree tonight euthanize then eulogize won't be much love lost do the crime and do the time it's how we count the cost nails and wood, that's all nails and wood
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Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 9:11 PM UTC
nails and wood
I’m a performing circus bear Traveling the world with my master Who treats me as an equal So we are comfortable companions And make an amazing team Performing spectacular shows for rabid audiences Who don’t appreciate our effort They try to antagonize and diminish us But we remain stoic Until today A heckler grabs my ear My feral nature gets the best of me So I snap at them I instantly realize my mistake And so does my master He shakes his head and walks away Leaving me heartbroken Without my only friend and protector My overwhelming regret and sorrow make no difference I’m reminded of where I stand with humans As they euthanize me
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Apr 10, 2019
Apr 10, 2019 at 10:02 AM UTC
Feral
You hooked my chest to drag me away, And drag more lives away, to forcefully sleep On beds made of thistles, just to hear us shriek And maybe surrender to your realm of affliction. Nonetheless I crawled out, and every night I reach the brink where the line of woe Seems to vanish and venture a trip to help me return… Still, you wrench me back to euthanize my hope.
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Dec 3, 2017
Dec 3, 2017 at 12:36 AM UTC
Trapped
Homage to the furry four footed a mew zing friend that smart pet house cat whose nine lives spanned nearly a score. This ode scratched out about a half dozen ***** of yarn unspooled around the terra firmae. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- the euthanize cat silenced meow – less audible than when a kitten 19 years ago – whew heart wrenching to you Richard n I presume Brendan too though ye my dear sister will moost likely miss do to sensitive resonance with creatures that grew and an omnipotent bond through well nigh two decades - whereby a tapestry of love hew as pet owner solely knew wove with colorful memories will brew regular need to grieve as a family member true as yar own flesh and bone will wake thee no more – boo hoo lament must be free to woo tears of sadness possible prompt thine heart to rue tis only understandable if such conscionable choice to terminate life one such beautiful feline knew within his being affection lavished with memories to view and replay his corporeal presence where time flew as calendar ushered near score longevity end date along timeline queue memorialized n sentimentalized by unused litter box n cat bowl used to poo and chew respectively will usher inxs purr remembrance of thinks past by Marcel Proust of human zoo leaves inky traces without a clew his latter fading discernible holographic soul with any faux paws dagger like claws indelibly etched within mcgeehan family unforgettable presence he drew! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- …luv frum ur brother math who moost now rush off n skip to the loo!
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Nov 8, 2017
Nov 8, 2017 at 4:30 PM UTC
Midnight doth sleep eternally -
Homage to the furry four footed a mew zing friend that smart pet house cat whose nine lives spanned nearly a score. This ode scratched out about a half dozen ***** of yarn unspooled around the terra firmae. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- the euthanize cat silenced meow – less audible than when a kitten 19 years ago – whew heart wrenching to you Richard n I presume Brendan too though ye my dear sister will moost likely miss do to sensitive resonance with creatures that grew and an omnipotent bond through well nigh two decades - whereby a tapestry of love hew as pet owner solely knew wove with colorful memories will brew regular need to grieve as a family member true as yar own flesh and bone will wake thee no more – boo hoo lament must be free to woo tears of sadness possible prompt thine heart to rue tis only understandable if such conscionable choice to terminate life one such beautiful feline knew within his being affection lavished with memories to view and replay his corporeal presence where time flew as calendar ushered near score longevity end date along timeline queue memorialized n sentimentalized by unused litter box n cat bowl used to poo and chew respectively will usher inxs purr remembrance of thinks past by Marcel Proust of human zoo leaves inky traces without a clew his latter fading discernible holographic soul with any faux paws dagger like claws indelibly etched within mcgeehan family unforgettable presence he drew! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- …luv frum ur brother math who moost now rush off n skip to the loo!
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