79% of people don't know the opposite words for the following:

1.always
2.coming
3.from
4.take
5.me
6.down

Repost if you know it xD

-Fluttershy loves Rainbowdash-

My Little Pony makes me think of papaw.
Weekend visits with Saturday cartoons,
We’d sit in the living room together and watch tv
Or read the newspaper.
He’d whistle so softly that my ears would strain to hear it.
Then he’d fall asleep and small snores left him in
Tiny puffs of breath.
The newspaper lay forgotten in his lap.
Eventually, he’d wake up and try to act as though
He’d been awake the whole time.
“That one is Applejack, right?” he’d ask
And although it was obviously Fluttershy,
I would ask playfully if he watched it when I wasn’t there.
But, overtime
The snores darkened
And the breath more shallow.
I began to listen more to his breath than the show,
And watch the rise and fall of his chest instead of the screen.
I waited on edge for him to wake up.
And he would.
Except, he stopped waking up last year.
His snores evaporated
And his breath died.
And with that,
So did my love for my little pony.

Hello✋
I like to get positioned for sixty nine.

Are you looking for a scheming,
schlepping, and schvitzing writer?
natural body and laid-back vibe?ﾠ
I'm all about therapeutic touch via
bolts, nuts, screws
and life of bee dogged trees.

teasing with idealism beef ****
illusory vision fades away
whatever ur method for stress to allay
perhaps mebbe e yar
cyber surfing tub bid on ebay
enjoy this day
or night sky painted
sixty plus shades of gray
whether completing
n ordinary task such as pitching hay
searching for a needle,

or quietly in bed ye lay
whence yar imagination doth -
like tha ant elope play
imagining whatever fantasy
mental efforts wish to stay
versus bing told "GO A WAY"
or sum mother retort akin
to go fish or jump in Lake Woebegone,
Yukon axe me an axle lent question
that snap, crackle and pop
into your head – YAY.

any query wood soot me fine 4u2 ash
pardon my being so brash
as into ur settled life i crash
while search 4 pinch from missus dash
this juvenile dill link quint doth wish
to indulge verboten fruit with thee in a flash
skipping stomping on glass spattered with hash
drive vin by each of your love eye lash
when lids fluttershy light reo speed,
wagon b4 my eyes appear as A mush-mash,
and that even a slight halo headdress
appears like a bridal sash
wheel coming ye as
"chief garbage taster" walking white trash.

puzzlement at ma style o writing,
thus far did not find an urge in ye 2 flee
but please, i intend no harm boot feel glee
because u r so beautiful tum me.

like right now, i wand dah
d'ya goot a mac attack
if passion could gush -
while either u or me like on our back
2 generate r own sin tha sized pet troll
Liam also called frack
no bag o trick this punster doth lack?!

well...anyway hullo duh ling!
how ah ya? boy do look ma ville us!

:) dis hard knock er skool alum
invites hew to take thee ss ***
& rube hee zzz magic flute for
liquid asset amadeus Mozart
wood wolf down like a gang
as meself bait for mistress tub be comb,
thus, reveille tapped out taut as a drum
stick - albeit an itty bitty teensy
weensy bona fide courtesy
frum me...the little known, boot famous
in dis papas po' house -
held 2getter with
toothpicks and bubble gum
and blood, sweat, and tears - in summer

sealed tight by august expansion
via mister sun humming
a radiant tune -
re: wee thin mine interregnum
wheel soon end
and thankfully for ewe go mum
boo twill oaf her mad duress
write when'r ya feel comfortably numb.

postscript:
u madam moist lock lee har rah rah rah
striking beauty to me,
a sexagenarian caulk cajun
married male
i sense thee wholesome -
with insight eye see
a gorgeous gal so ripe n succulent
from the human tree
wanna me to drool
ova yaw lil zyder zee.

I had Fluttershy in my hands and her friends on the tv.
As I sunk into the couch, I felt warm, comfortable.
The affair all too familiar and unremarkable.
To such a degree, I didn't notice the hot liquid running down my neck, pooling in my lap.
Didn't take note of the way my breath caught, the way my heart tumbled.

It wasn't until my eyes snagged on yours, did the sensations begin to rain down, pelting me.
It wasn't until my eyes fell on your bloodied mouth, did I lift a trembling hand to graze my neck. And when it came back soiled red, time slowed.

I watched red lips part to reveal sharp teeth dirtied with chunks of my flesh.
I started to wonder if your teeth were always that sharp, or if someone held you down and chipped away at the white, until all that remained were the daggers I saw before me.

As I finished my thought, you spoke,
"Why do you look so frightened?"

I wanted to spit fire back and burn you alive.
But I had quickly found that your teeth had strummed my vocal chords.
I'd later see them in a jar, treasured on your shelf, along with many other pairs, sodden in formaldehyde.

I looked down at fluttershy, now laying in my lap.
She looked to be a mirror of what I assumed my neck looked like, or lack thereof.
Covered with a heavy red that seeped in her skin and suffocated her mane.
The kindness spilling out of her, only to make room for anguish disguised as apathy.
I would never play with her again, even if I grieved for her in silence.

Now I walk around with a gaping wound that tends to spill when I'm alone.
I wish that I saw just a clawed and morbid creature in my memory, because I also see eyes filled with despair and desperation.

A creature so pitiful it crawls on its hands and knees, dragging its limbs, only to reach the peaks of escapism.
A creature so pathetic, it fumbles with lighters, melting crayons to paint pain in pastels.

Sometimes I like to pretend its eyes are filled with regret too.
But I'll never truly know, will I?