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"fleek" poems
there in the wilderness all things go to live and all things go to die. she stole my shirt and hatchet and took to the woods. hacked out the heart. traded one wilderness for another. city into trees. she needed to breathe and wring wet socks, relax, and study the mycelium songs underfoot. she she she, like a marvelous new love. the grass and green stuff woven. canteen replete with wheat nectar or half-batch whiskey. needs nutrient, the seed so new. needs space, the daughter as she grew. what tempest breaks the trees and old heads of mother timber? perhaps deep-winter, to test the fiber of a florescent forest fleek. she built a chikee from fallen arms of a sprucewood soul, drank water from a clay-thrown bowl and granola to heat her bones. new fish. the river is cold on glacier blood. new day, driven beyond the random access roads & cobalt blast-holes stretching gulches bloomed in chaparral. up they crawl along monumental spine and shoulder, giants sleeping. she she she, live a marvelous new love. the wonder is seen. the wilderness lived and remembered by girl or elk bugling their high-decibel poems when ready.
0
Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 9:08 AM UTC
the wilderness
Eyebrows are love eyebrows are life if your eyebrows are ***** **** mine are on fleek all the time and I can't think of another line
0
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 6:27 AM UTC
eyebrows
you can't help but stare and stare and stare until you hate everything about your face how many freckles you have pimples it can only cover the scars for so long the insecurities for so long lips coated in thick red eyes you coat with liner and eye shadow face caked with foundation baked with powder contoured to the gods eyebrows on fleek you slay sometimes you don't recognize yourself in the mirror and it makes you happy because you can't imagine living the rest of your life looking you without make-up. will you ever love you? you, without the makeup?
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Apr 17, 2017
Apr 17, 2017 at 8:59 PM UTC
Make Up.
So what I drink all my calories I'm sane and you're not, bruh It's never enough even to wear what you're wearing and talk like you talk, do you even care? Killing myself keeping things legit in your sphere Black sheep combine forces to feel wanted, keeping your company I feel blocked when you're nodding. Yes, I'm acting just like you want me, bruh, I'm coming up short to your haughti ness, blessed with a sense of self stopping just short of your level and what the hell, what I am doing here fighting for otherness, concerned with the purity of water of my brothers and my sisters of the covenant You talk about faith when it comes to prey that you're stalking, keep it strong, yolo, fleek, and a hashtag To be honest I'm scared that my hometown will be infested with those the internet claimed and ingest, swallowed with speed of light, people spit out as pesticide turning the verdant green such a ****** brown Yes you're so on top and classy, lacking purposely the tenets that turn a body fancy Cool *** beard bro, girl that's a freak *** hairdo, up in the midst short sides a pool cue locked in your hands up inside a ******* dive bar, midnight drive holding a pipe 'hind your headlights, Yes you're mixing with the best making them arrogant, such a lens to view the struggles they been through, Weird queer younglings in their late twenties and homeless at some point, only the noise of the sirens and blue lit bathrooms, keeper of the needle rights, and happiness,5-0 lights blasting on naito, picking on the kids white/brown outside washing the day away with the kiss of the pabst taking a nap on the grass on the waterfront blessed with lives with beards and queers passing by as they want one.
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Sep 20, 2015
Sep 20, 2015 at 3:21 AM UTC
Insomniacts: "211"
So what I drink all my calories I'm sane and you're not, bruh It's never enough even to wear what you're wearing and talk like you talk, do you even care? Killing myself keeping things legit in your sphere Black sheep combine forces to feel wanted, keeping your company I feel blocked when you're nodding. Yes, I'm acting just like you want me, bruh, I'm coming up short to your haughti ness, blessed with a sense of self stopping just short of your level and what the hell, what I am doing here fighting for otherness, concerned with the purity of water of my brothers and my sisters of the covenant You talk about faith when it comes to prey that you're stalking, keep it strong, yolo, fleek, and a hashtag To be honest I'm scared that my hometown will be infested with those the internet claimed and ingest, swallowed with speed of light, people spit out as pesticide turning the verdant green such a ****** brown Yes you're so on top and classy, lacking purposely the tenets that turn a body fancy Cool *** beard bro, girl that's a freak *** hairdo, up in the midst short sides a pool cue locked in your hands up inside a ******* dive bar, midnight drive holding a pipe 'hind your headlights, Yes you're mixing with the best making them arrogant, such a lens to view the struggles they been through, Weird queer younglings in their late twenties and homeless at some point, only the noise of the sirens and blue lit bathrooms, keeper of the needle rights, and happiness,5-0 lights blasting on naito, picking on the kids white/brown outside washing the day away with the kiss of the pabst taking a nap on the grass on the waterfront blessed with lives with beards and queers passing by as they want one.
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43
One day ☝️✨ It’ll flow endlessly like a fountain 🌈✨ My words, my thoughts 📖💭✨ Ideas, fashion 💡👗✨ Personal culture on fleek 💅✨ Timeless ⏰✨ Passion 🔥✨
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Jul 9, 2021
Jul 9, 2021 at 3:02 PM UTC
#70
Venting. They never see the hollow me.. deleted twitter, but i want you guys to follow me.. Usually up late, worrying about my luck, wait.. there's a starving child somewhere.. meanwhile i just ate.. ****** *** my phone bills high, And my ex girl is taken... meanwhile a small girl in Nepal still feels her world shakin... Going 80 on the freeway, i just wanna bowl now.. While the folk down in Philly prayed the train would slow down... Bothered by the shade of a new building... while people in Haiti are still building.. still building... while i buy building blocks for my nephew, hes 1. while the people down in Baltimore burning buildings for fun... really? burning building for fun? Whys the CVS big, but the school with no funds? but they say the solution is, taking the guns... they took the guns in Chicago, but left fatherless sons. Eyebrows on fleek but societies bleak. the devil takes a seat in a heavenly street.. now were all cursed, but im watching netflix on my sofa.. Chilling bumping Sosa, living by the park where they ***** my neighbor Rosa.. Gotta remind myself daily...that im blessed to a fault.. because theres stillborn babies, whose heads rest in a vault.. boys in Africa begging for bread, while i toast my ***** on the beach enjoying summer the waters too cold to swim though.. while in New Orleans they had to jump in regardless.. but all my worry is, if my sister can pass her BAR test.. So next time i wanna vent under my AC vent... i stop and think, **** i dont even have to pay rent.. I dont gotta work doubleshifts and im never hungry.. plus a got a couple people who really love me.. So.. Next time that i wanna complain.. Ill scale my struggle on a real measure of pain. -afj
0
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 5:32 AM UTC
venting part 1.
Venting. They never see the hollow me.. deleted twitter, but i want you guys to follow me.. Usually up late, worrying about my luck, wait.. there's a starving child somewhere.. meanwhile i just ate.. ****** *** my phone bills high, And my ex girl is taken... meanwhile a small girl in Nepal still feels her world shakin... Going 80 on the freeway, i just wanna bowl now.. While the folk down in Philly prayed the train would slow down... Bothered by the shade of a new building... while people in Haiti are still building.. still building... while i buy building blocks for my nephew, hes 1. while the people down in Baltimore burning buildings for fun... really? burning building for fun? Whys the CVS big, but the school with no funds? but they say the solution is, taking the guns... they took the guns in Chicago, but left fatherless sons. Eyebrows on fleek but societies bleak. the devil takes a seat in a heavenly street.. now were all cursed, but im watching netflix on my sofa.. Chilling bumping Sosa, living by the park where they ***** my neighbor Rosa.. Gotta remind myself daily...that im blessed to a fault.. because theres stillborn babies, whose heads rest in a vault.. boys in Africa begging for bread, while i toast my ***** on the beach enjoying summer the waters too cold to swim though.. while in New Orleans they had to jump in regardless.. but all my worry is, if my sister can pass her BAR test.. So next time i wanna vent under my AC vent... i stop and think, **** i dont even have to pay rent.. I dont gotta work doubleshifts and im never hungry.. plus a got a couple people who really love me.. So.. Next time that i wanna complain.. Ill scale my struggle on a real measure of pain. -afj
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39
By Arcassin and Elizabeth AB: Flowers blossom, And sky is bluer than the ocean, And although it reflects, We can never witness the motion, Swimming in the sea of forgotten dreams, To let go bad memories, Holy treasons the enemy, Over lapping actuality, ES: Take the beauty of purity, God's pristine waters,  And cleanse the betrayals trace, A new beginning for our world, The dreams of past days again recalled,, In this our florid wonderland, Indigo streams bringing, Divinity unto man, AB: Desires to be rulers of the land, But not enough cargo on the ship, Tracing footsteps back to endeavors, Gods creations like wool and leather, There will be a forever, Sweat pouring from your head, And little red slippers, theres No place like home, Figures, ES: Come together all of planet,  Let one design be in mind,  Share and share alike,  Make of God's realm on Earth, A perfect reside of care, Toil for the hearth's fold,  Put to bed the weighty anchor,  Of man's disloyal fife, AB: And when it all has reached its peak, A set to sight on fleek, If anything , I'd give away my only soul, Just to save these families, From the heavens down to the trees, Everything has means, Saving purity for one, Exactly acquired two things, ES: To breach the storms, For good to prevail,  All begin of oneness to other,  Nature's orb configured with man, Co-existences yielding a field,  Of God's pureness, The flower's dream retraced,  For our world clan.
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Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 9:14 PM UTC
"Pure" (collab w/ Elizabeth Squires)
It’s my thang a langwitch spellproteckter go getter- sleek katrina stereowrite braid these monster tentacles aww now cute buzz pro bro-intellectual collaboration gush &fush; & fleek flecks firecompass full of grandiose art verses culture legions sing over and outty 5000 package cursive dialog primer kilameter romance make it equator atypical retro passion that ****** away cuss words p phucker! grade cheated tempo cuntgrunge klue move shadows to stand alones while in line to get in the barfuck gang outside party with smilie txt tshirt and a computer on diet coke kush telescope acid whatever like you feel like emitting or like have 9 thoughts about or like forgot about escaping like post fever social media to become a social sensation out of perception the limited yet coveted cherished harps and fairies and twinkly shimmery **** that doesnt growl or grunt huh? Speech please dont As if i had the guts to stomp on a butterfly-award speaking dear diary fanatics central stranger than fictive red read (aloud allowed?)Which one. politically slurred thousand jury chapter grew some serious social security numbers and dyed them to prove a cutup battle wins the war **** **** fick fock u Mindseekers
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Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 9:16 AM UTC
braiding monster tentacles
Have you heard of the word That sounds like the squeak One would make from your beak If you had one? It’s fleek! If you say, “She’s on fleek,” With eyebrow perfection She needs no correction In shape and in peak Now anything’s on fleek That’s on point and ideal From skateboards to hash browns In taste, look or feel It’s about 2 years old That’s antique in webspeak And now that you know it, You’re part of the clique It sounds like a combo Of flawless and sleek Neither Latin nor Greek Still not sure if it’s chic We used to say hot, Or da bomb, or pristine. If on fleek is passe’, Just say, “yaasss, Queen!”
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Nov 14, 2016
Nov 14, 2016 at 6:29 PM UTC
On Fleek
The anger's in my cheeks The words aren't in my mouth I know like I have for weeks Everything's only going south If I stay to hear you say Another word of your fanatic way You cannot be wrong, sir Your stance is on fleek Your shoulders are strong, sir But your logic is weak And I know the ins and the outs and the world And I'm sitting and spitting with my fists curled Oh yes, oh yes, you have got the answer But haven't you heard, you're not the new cancer? I'm mincing my tongue, you're not mincing yours And I know that my knowledge is worth just two straws Wise men ask the fool And they all sit and drool But I burn in my anger At how you don't know hunger.
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Feb 16, 2023
Feb 16, 2023 at 6:43 AM UTC
Strike up the band
Mother Nature is a nihilist sitting with friends Around a poker table in the dew drop inn Playing Nasty Canasta and the loser draws a limb On a voodoo hangman, the cut of her kin The high-wire committee say she’s way out of line So they’ve sent in a crack-team of their most earnest faces To blow 40 shades of blue, red and lime From the very corridors our Mother paces She croaks through the smoke “the first sons a novelty The rest are just relics of muscles unclenched Too smart for their own good and that doesn’t bother-me But the reaper is hungry and hustling for rent” Lackeys line the lawn, flunkies on fleek To cover the crack of her chunky cheeks “To stake lives may well seem immoral and bleak But to play for cash prize seems horribly cheap For a Lady of her esteem” But the crowd spoke, she hung up the wardens trunchbull Left the skeleton key within reach of the cells “They’ve aired their opinions and I’ve had a cunt-full Let the hungry ******** impeach themselves I’m sitting this one out” “And I’ll hide, while my dead snake wriggle persists, On Elba with hairy pits, freckled wrists, Openly practicing romanticists And other hapless things that can’t exist In these times” Every second Sunday, the search resumes-led By a dawn-chorus of confetti festooned-plebs She can dance the devils limbo cos she’ll not be presumed-dead While we’ve Holy Grail Package Holi-vows to renew-said The green eyed usher on the door The newsstand screams “Mother Nature was a fascist Sher natural selection was the **** manifesto” And they’re pedalling placebo to the shell-shocked masses While the editor shoehorns a scotch into his amaretto Yeah the world has been orphaned and the orphans smothered But go easy on her sordid soul cos that’s our mother, after all
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Jun 5, 2018
Jun 5, 2018 at 6:26 PM UTC
Mother Nature Was a Fascist
Mother Nature is a nihilist sitting with friends Around a poker table in the dew drop inn Playing Nasty Canasta and the loser draws a limb On a voodoo hangman, the cut of her kin The high-wire committee say she’s way out of line So they’ve sent in a crack-team of their most earnest faces To blow 40 shades of blue, red and lime From the very corridors our Mother paces She croaks through the smoke “the first sons a novelty The rest are just relics of muscles unclenched Too smart for their own good and that doesn’t bother-me But the reaper is hungry and hustling for rent” Lackeys line the lawn, flunkies on fleek To cover the crack of her chunky cheeks “To stake lives may well seem immoral and bleak But to play for cash prize seems horribly cheap For a Lady of her esteem” But the crowd spoke, she hung up the wardens trunchbull Left the skeleton key within reach of the cells “They’ve aired their opinions and I’ve had a cunt-full Let the hungry ******** impeach themselves I’m sitting this one out” “And I’ll hide, while my dead snake wriggle persists, On Elba with hairy pits, freckled wrists, Openly practicing romanticists And other hapless things that can’t exist In these times” Every second Sunday, the search resumes-led By a dawn-chorus of confetti festooned-plebs She can dance the devils limbo cos she’ll not be presumed-dead While we’ve Holy Grail Package Holi-vows to renew-said The green eyed usher on the door The newsstand screams “Mother Nature was a fascist Sher natural selection was the **** manifesto” And they’re pedalling placebo to the shell-shocked masses While the editor shoehorns a scotch into his amaretto Yeah the world has been orphaned and the orphans smothered But go easy on her sordid soul cos that’s our mother, after all
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38
i see you when you take a glance on my powdered cheek i see you when you try to put your eyebrows on fleek i notice you when you give someone a playful wink i see your face when someone ignores you when you speak i noticed how your expression changed to give someone a kick i see you everytime you're late and you try to sneak i see everything i notice the unnoticeable you feel awkward i feel awkward too you're single i'm single too
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Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 11:05 AM UTC
awkward
Your self entitlement is sickening When did psychosis become so beautiful? The image of victim hood so appealing What must you weep for? When mummy and daddy pay for your carelessness Your car, your phone, your clothes The spoiled soul intent on self destruction when you can no longer consume self harm is on fleek Your little mind a cascade of self inflicted bruises Throw yourself into a war zone The day in the human traffic Sit under a paedophile's glare live under the shadow of poverty Sleep by the plague streets Oh you poor pathetic hipster Here, have the BPD and PTSD Sleep with one eye open! With the knife and dog by your pillow For the abuser that vowed to return For the shadows that haunt the night For the insomnia that wracks your brain For the voices of a demonic opera This is not special This is hell I am NOT special! The world owes me nothing! For what I have, what I want I fight, I strive, I survive I am not a snowflake There are many more like me Who live by the ashes of temples By the bombs of sands In the wake of unclean hands For virginity stolen! For childhood lost By war, poverty, disease, **** Your ****** cry with all the middle class entitlement That muffles out the true cry The cry of a child in the Gaza strip The cry of forced marriage The cry of the cancer bearer The cry of a soldier in the heat of battle The cry of a mother who could not feed her babe The cry of the ***** ripped out The cry of the elderly The cry of the camps The cry to which you find so pretty which you know nothing of... You mold it your life of middle class **** Your glorified bedroom a western modern pit Iphone, computer, holiday in the sun Yet you still feel undone? So you putrid little fetus Take my hand, we shall go where your entitlement can not tread where the ***** are forgotten and suffering are dead
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Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 3:09 PM UTC
Snowflake Syndrome
Your self entitlement is sickening When did psychosis become so beautiful? The image of victim hood so appealing What must you weep for? When mummy and daddy pay for your carelessness Your car, your phone, your clothes The spoiled soul intent on self destruction when you can no longer consume self harm is on fleek Your little mind a cascade of self inflicted bruises Throw yourself into a war zone The day in the human traffic Sit under a paedophile's glare live under the shadow of poverty Sleep by the plague streets Oh you poor pathetic hipster Here, have the BPD and PTSD Sleep with one eye open! With the knife and dog by your pillow For the abuser that vowed to return For the shadows that haunt the night For the insomnia that wracks your brain For the voices of a demonic opera This is not special This is hell I am NOT special! The world owes me nothing! For what I have, what I want I fight, I strive, I survive I am not a snowflake There are many more like me Who live by the ashes of temples By the bombs of sands In the wake of unclean hands For virginity stolen! For childhood lost By war, poverty, disease, **** Your ****** cry with all the middle class entitlement That muffles out the true cry The cry of a child in the Gaza strip The cry of forced marriage The cry of the cancer bearer The cry of a soldier in the heat of battle The cry of a mother who could not feed her babe The cry of the ***** ripped out The cry of the elderly The cry of the camps The cry to which you find so pretty which you know nothing of... You mold it your life of middle class **** Your glorified bedroom a western modern pit Iphone, computer, holiday in the sun Yet you still feel undone? So you putrid little fetus Take my hand, we shall go where your entitlement can not tread where the ***** are forgotten and suffering are dead
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62
Welcome abroad Thameslink. Grab a camera a wink at Shaftsbury’s bootylicious dancers. Pen in gear and know the answers to the parade of pub quizzes. Let your strands of raw seismic frizzes scream on bonds lightening Thames RIB. The Louis Vuitton wallet ‘on fleek’ for that crib inside the Shards slender diamond belly. Feet stay in groove with that Kidston welly against the roaring mud at the wireless festival. Pre dem soulful struts of de Notting hill carnival spicy spirits, nani wines and **** kisses. Safari hunt watch out for those hisses on centre stage of the primeval in the zoo. Grab my hand and come on boo steady your bags and steady your feet on the thrilling ride of Oxford street. Reminisce its entirety and say goodbye. As we take in our final view on the London eye. Justine Louisy Copyright ©Justine Louisy 2016 All Rights Reserved
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Jul 3, 2020
Jul 3, 2020 at 2:19 AM UTC
My holiday of.....
My mother warned me about the robbers and kidnappers she told me i must be careful of criminals but forgot to warn me about those big brown eyes those kissable lips and those brows that are always on fleek his jawline that is as sharp as a knife his nose that fits perfectly to his face that chest — reminds me of how strong my late father was his face everytime he looks to his right that simple yet gangster -like style of clothing he has My mother never warned me about that I was never warned about you I never knew you could break me I was never warned you will break me That makes you more than a criminal You have destroyed me, and it hurts me more than a criminal can do to me
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Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 10:09 AM UTC
MORE THAN A CRIMINAL
By Arcassin Burnham Picking us off one by one.... Treyvon never got to have a son, The federals laughing in our face, They Think they won, Two Arizona's but I only need one, And ya had they life taken by just a gun, For my fellow black people, And for the hateful people painting the world with blood, This wouldn't be a sequel, Like **** We still no longer equal, Why y'all gotta be so evil, Can't you just leave us in shambles, But y'all just wanna know what's real, So instead of protect and serve, Y'all wanna just wanna judge and **** Should I take a stand? I will, Are they plotting?, Get folkes like us to squeal, I mist of what's to come, It maybe trouble our futures, No young black kid should die like that, Or be on the run, Like their framing middle schoolers, Ferguson was no exception, Now the fed will learn they lesson, We tired of loosing the ones we love, Because of their descriptions, We just wanna live, To the fullest on fleek, But if this ******** keep happening, We will no longer be free, And thats real.
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Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 2:52 AM UTC
"Keep Killing Blacks"
One night in a blacked out dream , I saw the queen. **** **** **** strong and dark with no cream. She keeps me up. Beautiful art unframed and unfinished; begging a young Picasso - To put the touch of his brush. Kilo for kilo she's my addiction. As the queen, I hit her 'gram' with the smoothest diction. Not trying to collide but I'm lovin' her friction - And despite impending demise and my lates affliction; I see in her royal eyes, "Is he real or fiction?" Those brown sugar eyes, they won't gleam - Even if a young prince got green and clean. She discerns what glitters and what ain't gold. She doesn't know much about love but she knows about soul. That's why her heart isn't package and her time ain't sold. She walks as if she's in glass slippers italicizing a beautiful woman in bold. She's the dopest so she's never fiend and she's never leaned. That black never cracked and her aspirations, she's never quit. She a lil bit thick but she ain't never bricked, all net my baby; I'll never pass her, that's just swish. She got that Bantu up in Bambu - Don't get it twisted. That melanin poppin', not her cherry,  she won't risk it. She put Lynch on the bench - ain't no ***** ever ran through but they ran to. She's the reincarnation of her mama, but she embodies her grandma. She got the realest figure, before never after the comma. Divined by God, designed by God; Her eyebrows stay 'fleek' and her edges stay laid. Her ideal man: good cook, a good lover and a good maid. She always talks about living on her own, she actin' so grown. She just wants a house with a man who knows how to go out but stay home. To her, her womb is like the treasure of the Earth, Don't talk about planting no seed unless you nurturing the dirt. She's all about last, cause her last is her first. And for all her dinner dates she hopes they end in desert. By twelve midnight, she adorns her head-cloth, head wrap, head scarf - Don't hit up her FaceTime unless you just want to talk. She's the queen of all colors, she wears that black like it's true.
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Jul 10, 2016
Jul 10, 2016 at 3:39 PM UTC
Queen of All Colors
One night in a blacked out dream , I saw the queen. **** **** **** strong and dark with no cream. She keeps me up. Beautiful art unframed and unfinished; begging a young Picasso - To put the touch of his brush. Kilo for kilo she's my addiction. As the queen, I hit her 'gram' with the smoothest diction. Not trying to collide but I'm lovin' her friction - And despite impending demise and my lates affliction; I see in her royal eyes, "Is he real or fiction?" Those brown sugar eyes, they won't gleam - Even if a young prince got green and clean. She discerns what glitters and what ain't gold. She doesn't know much about love but she knows about soul. That's why her heart isn't package and her time ain't sold. She walks as if she's in glass slippers italicizing a beautiful woman in bold. She's the dopest so she's never fiend and she's never leaned. That black never cracked and her aspirations, she's never quit. She a lil bit thick but she ain't never bricked, all net my baby; I'll never pass her, that's just swish. She got that Bantu up in Bambu - Don't get it twisted. That melanin poppin', not her cherry,  she won't risk it. She put Lynch on the bench - ain't no ***** ever ran through but they ran to. She's the reincarnation of her mama, but she embodies her grandma. She got the realest figure, before never after the comma. Divined by God, designed by God; Her eyebrows stay 'fleek' and her edges stay laid. Her ideal man: good cook, a good lover and a good maid. She always talks about living on her own, she actin' so grown. She just wants a house with a man who knows how to go out but stay home. To her, her womb is like the treasure of the Earth, Don't talk about planting no seed unless you nurturing the dirt. She's all about last, cause her last is her first. And for all her dinner dates she hopes they end in desert. By twelve midnight, she adorns her head-cloth, head wrap, head scarf - Don't hit up her FaceTime unless you just want to talk. She's the queen of all colors, she wears that black like it's true.
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37
You, yes you I never thought of anything like this. Maybe we are just not meant to be together, but hey everything about you seems to be on fleek your silly jokes your pretty face and your dazzling smile, but maybe just maybe they were not enough to match us together. Maybe that was it we were too perfect for each other that it wasn't able to match us because it was just a fairytale.
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Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 7:50 AM UTC
yes you
You are an angel. A blazing firework in the crepuscular sky. You are strong and every inch of you is a piece of art. You have been gracefully drawn by the hands of the creator. You are the painter of your dreams. Your lustrous eyes and your serene smile light up the Sky. They give the stars the power to shine. Your soul is made up of glitter and star dust. You are unique, different and you have your own identity. Your soul is royalty. You are a queen of the kingdom in the clouds and your crown isn't on your head but is in your soul. You can get through this. You carry a sassy personality. Smart, dignified and soigne are the things that define you. You rock this dress and you hair is on fleek. Your eyebrows need not be filled and your pimples need not be hidden. Just embrace what you are. Bliss is your second name and making people happy around you is your only motto. Your imperfections are flawless and all your curves and edges are perfect. Your body ain't no toy. and weight is just a number. Don't be so hard on your self. You are worth it and you can get through this nightmare. She said these words out loud as she was standing in mirror with her heading confidence.
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Nov 19, 2016
Nov 19, 2016 at 1:47 PM UTC
~ I, me and myself ~
Cover the blemishes Fill in your brows "Fleek" the contour Perfect teeth More muscle Less fat Hate what you see in the mirror Worship filters and fame I wish you could see yourself With the eyes that watch you wake Because American standards of beauty Don't show how in my eyes you glow.
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Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 1:57 AM UTC
American standards of beauty.
I still remember that one summer afternoon. I saw you while I was sitting with my worn out desk, Drawing a new cartoon, And aiming for a better picturesque. Freckles were visible upon your cheek, But your eyebrows weren’t that on fleek. Maybe it’s because of the cut you have there, From a stout man in front of you, bearing a death glare. In one blissful moment, my trash bin went flying, As he was about to punch you again. He then took a step back, looking like an ugly duckling! You saw me through my window and gave me a smile that’s so inane. It was never okay when I had too many hideous drafts, Drafts that were always behind my beautiful crafts. But then, I knew that you needed them as your defense. And so I had them, even if they would cost ten thousand cents My parents would always scold me, For I was the very reason why our front gate was always messy. But I didn’t care enough As long as you stay safe from that dickheaded buff. Then came a time when you didn’t show up. I was badly ready for my defense gaming, That I lay my head on my desk, playing Mom Jeans’ Death Cup, As the sun’s power is already taming. Days passed, crumpled drafts were already overflowing. Still, I am waiting for you, my darling. I am running out of paper. But still, my hope will not waver. When I cannot take it anymore, I went outside. I was dancing through the streets like a happy bride, And then I stepped on a crumpled piece of newspaper. “A 17-YEAR OLD BOY WAS KILLED WITH A DOUGH SCRAPER”
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Dec 17, 2017
Dec 17, 2017 at 1:58 PM UTC
SERENDIPITY’S FAILURE
I still remember that one summer afternoon. I saw you while I was sitting with my worn out desk, Drawing a new cartoon, And aiming for a better picturesque. Freckles were visible upon your cheek, But your eyebrows weren’t that on fleek. Maybe it’s because of the cut you have there, From a stout man in front of you, bearing a death glare. In one blissful moment, my trash bin went flying, As he was about to punch you again. He then took a step back, looking like an ugly duckling! You saw me through my window and gave me a smile that’s so inane. It was never okay when I had too many hideous drafts, Drafts that were always behind my beautiful crafts. But then, I knew that you needed them as your defense. And so I had them, even if they would cost ten thousand cents My parents would always scold me, For I was the very reason why our front gate was always messy. But I didn’t care enough As long as you stay safe from that dickheaded buff. Then came a time when you didn’t show up. I was badly ready for my defense gaming, That I lay my head on my desk, playing Mom Jeans’ Death Cup, As the sun’s power is already taming. Days passed, crumpled drafts were already overflowing. Still, I am waiting for you, my darling. I am running out of paper. But still, my hope will not waver. When I cannot take it anymore, I went outside. I was dancing through the streets like a happy bride, And then I stepped on a crumpled piece of newspaper. “A 17-YEAR OLD BOY WAS KILLED WITH A DOUGH SCRAPER”
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Not down with all traditions Man or woman Who i should be kissing Whats on television. Trans feminine drugs in retrovision what did we invision. Listen crystal clear ntentions realistic. Misogynistic ****** Lets get with it women  talk....  you gotta listen. Its funny to st in rehash this How these women had me Bitter sadly. They watch me change Too trans queen... Hard for saturated trans fat in ******* black jeans. With my **** fleek. *** cheeks.. last week Rolled through black clouds. Ominous. Prominently rap sound Dark brown black pound ******* him up in the back ground Tell me what the **** you think of that Clown Listen to the Christians *** they know the promise we Yet somehow Some astonish me Hate the pride scene... Just like God decreed somehow there's no God for me They'll call em ******* man Acknowledge me The actually bothering Treatment of those in poverty With out apology Apostrophe Here's an idea To start a following Start a performing trip Lead with Vietnam War vets Get the Porsche chipped.... And divorce yourself from Forcing it Klue Klux **** with groupies You the goof performing **** No klue in who be Taking this **** before I force it in *** hatreds ****** I ain't supporting it...
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Oct 21, 2020
Oct 21, 2020 at 4:58 PM UTC
We can make it dmx style beat
Named after the Son of the ***** Found the light while looking for the switch In the waves Can't compare a life to how insane I am How are you? How is the man Standing at 6 three in a couples years will have knee pains Longer than the synapse that runs from the hip to the chest to the cranium Worried about fleek game and the cruise ending At any moment now Peace flees and crows cackle yowl Holistic tendencies I try to keep up And I think the time has come again to  bends too and fro With the wind, like a limb Begging to just say I know, Nope. There's more after the falling action of the sad story. I wanna say that a podium waits beneath a Jumbotron, with furious music, and o positive dripping it's ****** self down onto it Like the excess acrylic From a mural Slipping it's way into another mural, Oh god. (!) I said, I saw you in the cracks between the tile ! The cements My hearts rots volatile while my babied mind wants repents. I really don't wanna know how you are, what u are, whoever you are. I just wanna praise you, Extend my exalt in perfect symmetry out from me. Gimme the high and the lows Friends and foes The cup runneth over and hits the ground but the fountain continues to pour Each side Gimme ..... ...... ...... ....... Whatever it takes.
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Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 9:04 AM UTC
Untitled
Since Facebook turn to shade Some of y'all need to go home and bath Talking bout this on fleek, that on fleek But dem cockroaches flying And dem baby mouse starta squeek Tryna break up a good home Cause your skanky *** can't make your own Talking bout hot gyal this and hot gyal that Well hot gyal don't scrape out another gyal *** Hot gyal can read and write And know dem worth plenty Only thing some of you ******* can do nowadays is take ah selfie Y'all make me sick with this ***** mentality You see, a sista can't talk to a mister Without some ******* thinking he's ******* her And she can't go out looking fine as hell Without some ******* tryna get with her And these so called misters Seems to me like dem waist blister Cause dem pants always dey by dem *** like some prisoners Talking bout "man ah gangster yow" ***** please, you ain't no gangster, you ah "Gyow" Instead you people go look for a job or educate yourself and **** Y'all out here looking like a bunch ah ***** *** ***** La Vida Love
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Oct 7, 2016
Oct 7, 2016 at 10:07 PM UTC
Facebook shade