Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"fur" poems
She must have been kicked unseen or brushed by a car. Too young to know much, she was beginning to learn To use the newspapers spread on the kitchen floor And to win, wetting there, the words, "Good dog! Good dog!" We thought her shy malaise was a shot reaction. The autopsy disclosed a rupture in her liver. As we teased her with play, blood was filling her skin And her heart was learning to lie down forever. Monday morning, as the children were noisily fed And sent to school, she crawled beneath the youngest's bed. We found her twisted and limp but still alive. In the car to the vet's, on my lap, she tried To bite my hand and died. I stroked her warm fur And my wife called in a voice imperious with tears. Though surrounded by love that would have upheld her, Nevertheless she sank and, stiffening, disappeared. Back home, we found that in the night her frame, Drawing near to dissolution, had endured the shame Of diarrhoea and had dragged across the floor To a newspaper carelessly left there. Good dog.
0
146.4k
Dog's Death
Hey let's play a game! Post a video on the internet of it just for the fame! Or maybe, let's play for fun. And in the end we'll see who has won. How about some Black Ops, maybe Resident Evil? Or how about some Conker's Bad Fur Day multiplayer? Cause we can both be robber weasels. I really like pokemon, also it's all about that Mario. The greatest character in Mariokart is always going to be Wario! I'd love to fight you on some Tekkon 6 But maybe I'll let you pick the game, or we could just draw sticks. So here I made a little cup filled names of different games. Just draw one Popsicle stick, and see which one of the names is on it. That way we make this quick and easy And can get back to our videogames!
0
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 6:38 PM UTC
Videogames
A young she wolf is born Scorched fur of molten lava and heated coal Flames consume her path She leaves a soot trail Ember eyes shine the spark of life The animal instinct to hunt And so she will hunt Through the hell that surrounds her The hell she creates A paradise of flames “The Fire in this Wolf lives”
0
Feb 12, 2014
Feb 12, 2014 at 8:37 AM UTC
Wolf
the bed is not very big a sufficient pillow shoveling her small manure-shaped head one sheet on which distinctly wags at times the weary twig of a neckless ****** (very occasionally budding a flabby algebraic odour jigs et tout en face always wiggles the perfectly dead finger of thitherhithering gas. clothed with a luminous fur poilu a Jesus sags in frolicsome wooden agony).
0
25.4k
The Bed Is Not Very Big
Being transgender is like this: Everyday of your life, you have always wanted a dog. For as long as you can remember-- even if you don't know to what extent-- you have wanted one. You asked your parents, Santa, the easter bunny, even the tooth fairy. Then one day you get a dead cat for your birthday. You say "This isn't a dog," But "You get what you get and don't get upset" So you carry around and care for the dead carcass. All sorts of people look at you, unable to understand what you are doing. So then one day you decide to try to make it look a bit nicer. You wash it a bit, comb what little fur it has left, cover the decrepit limbs. But then you realize the futility in doing this all the time, because you are still carrying around a dead animal. So you continue to carry it around because you have to, no matter how horrible it may be. Although you are carrying around a dead and rotting cat, you aren't a ******* cat owner; You still want a ******* dog.
0
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 6:53 PM UTC
Being Transgender
How neatly a cat sleeps, Sleeps with its paws and its posture, Sleeps with its wicked claws, And with its unfeeling blood, Sleeps with ALL the rings a series Of burnt circles which have formed The odd geology of its sand-colored tail. I should like to sleep like a cat, With all the fur of time, With a tongue rough as flint, With the dry *** of fire and After speaking to no one, Stretch myself over the world, Over roofs and landscapes, With a passionate desire To hunt the rats in my dreams. I have seen how the cat asleep Would undulate, how the night flowed Through it like dark water and at times, It was going to fall or possibly Plunge into the bare deserted snowdrifts. Sometimes it grew so much in sleep Like a tiger's great-grandfather, And would leap in the darkness over Rooftops, clouds and volcanoes. Sleep, sleep cat of the night with Episcopal ceremony and your stone-carved moustache. Take care of all our dreams Control the obscurity Of our slumbering prowess With your relentless HEART And the great ruff of your tail.
0
22.6k
Cat's Dream
You used to tell me that beautiful things come from pain and adversity. Like motherhood, unconditional love, and true stories. As I stood in the middle of a room painted white, Staring at the remains of rolling hills burned to black, I saw you staring back at me. Burnt fields like black panther fur Shining against your bones Velvet black You’ve changed And changed and changed Yet your love still remains Burnt fields like black panther fur Whiskers are the needles on a compass Always pointing to the azure sky You used to sing when I cried Rolling your r’s over rrolling hills A haunting melody startling black birds into the night Feathered constellations against a sliver moon And lips pressed to my salty cheeks You told me that your favorite skin tone was chocolate, As you laid out in the sun hoping to melt. “A quarter black” is what you say when you want to feel proud, Even as you tell me stories of how your mother was called negrita, The girl who stood too dark amongst the crowd. Burnt fields like black panther fur Black like the broken wings of mothers before you Who had hands with scars from cotton seeds And blue veins like uprooted trees Stretching all the way to their tired knees Burnt fields like black panther fur You criticize your aging beauty Speaking in envy of the color gold Like you are a broken bowl in need of kintsugi Yet silver snakes still slither Over the pebbled river beds of your black curls Dripping down the small of your back Until they reach the base of your ivory spine Burnt fields like black panther fur You criticize your aging beauty Because you never thought Cocoa lips and sun spots painted on sculpted clay that never cracks Could ever look as stunning as it does on you You told me that it is better to speak my truth then tell pretty lies. So I told you mine and you cried, And cried and cried. But look where we are now, Standing beside each other with the same eyes, Just different reflections. Burnt fields like black panther fur Tongue like a sword set ablaze Tempered in pools of milk and honey Blood red sun grazing the tops of your eyelids Still reminiscent of those in old photographs Where you saw the little girl you search for in me Burnt fields like black panther fur I am sorry I made you cry But even when our backs are turned We are still Black birds singing in the dead of night Free Thank you mama for my broken wings.
0
Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 3:11 PM UTC
Burnt Fields Like Black Panther Fur
You used to tell me that beautiful things come from pain and adversity. Like motherhood, unconditional love, and true stories. As I stood in the middle of a room painted white, Staring at the remains of rolling hills burned to black, I saw you staring back at me. Burnt fields like black panther fur Shining against your bones Velvet black You’ve changed And changed and changed Yet your love still remains Burnt fields like black panther fur Whiskers are the needles on a compass Always pointing to the azure sky You used to sing when I cried Rolling your r’s over rrolling hills A haunting melody startling black birds into the night Feathered constellations against a sliver moon And lips pressed to my salty cheeks You told me that your favorite skin tone was chocolate, As you laid out in the sun hoping to melt. “A quarter black” is what you say when you want to feel proud, Even as you tell me stories of how your mother was called negrita, The girl who stood too dark amongst the crowd. Burnt fields like black panther fur Black like the broken wings of mothers before you Who had hands with scars from cotton seeds And blue veins like uprooted trees Stretching all the way to their tired knees Burnt fields like black panther fur You criticize your aging beauty Speaking in envy of the color gold Like you are a broken bowl in need of kintsugi Yet silver snakes still slither Over the pebbled river beds of your black curls Dripping down the small of your back Until they reach the base of your ivory spine Burnt fields like black panther fur You criticize your aging beauty Because you never thought Cocoa lips and sun spots painted on sculpted clay that never cracks Could ever look as stunning as it does on you You told me that it is better to speak my truth then tell pretty lies. So I told you mine and you cried, And cried and cried. But look where we are now, Standing beside each other with the same eyes, Just different reflections. Burnt fields like black panther fur Tongue like a sword set ablaze Tempered in pools of milk and honey Blood red sun grazing the tops of your eyelids Still reminiscent of those in old photographs Where you saw the little girl you search for in me Burnt fields like black panther fur I am sorry I made you cry But even when our backs are turned We are still Black birds singing in the dead of night Free Thank you mama for my broken wings.
Continue reading...
60
Some day, if you are lucky, you’ll return from a thunderous journey trailing snake scales, wing fragments and the musk of Earth and moon. Eyes will examine you for signs of damage, or change and you, too, will wonder if your skin shows traces of fur, or leaves, if thrushes have built a nest of your hair, if Andromeda burns from your eyes. Do not be surprised by prickly questions from those who barely inhabit their own fleeting lives, who barely taste their own possibility, who barely dream. If your hands are empty, treasureless, if your toes have not grown claws, if your obedient voice has not become a wild cry, a howl, you will reassure them. We warned you, they might declare, there is nothing else, no point, no meaning, no mystery at all, just this frantic waiting to die. And yet, they tremble, mute, afraid you’ve returned without sweet elixir for unspeakable thirst, without a fluent dance or holy language to teach them, without a compass bearing to a forgotten border where no one crosses without weeping for the terrible beauty of galaxies and granite and bone. They tremble, hoping your lips hold a secret, that the song your body now sings will redeem them, yet they fear your secret is dangerous, shattering, and once it flies from your astonished mouth, they-like you-must disintegrate before unfolding tremulous wings.
0
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 10:37 AM UTC
The return by Geneen Marie Haugen
I love the way you laugh. It sounds like a dog throwing up. I want to run my hands through your hair. I bet it's as soft as a chinchilla's fur. I love your height. How it makes you look like you're the genetic product of Nick Jonas and a giraffe. I love your eyes. You're so full of **** that even your eyes are brown.
0
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 2:00 PM UTC
Backhanded Pickup Lines
I was born out of fur and cotton, With eyes that were shiny, black buttons. From the store rack, I always watched the distant tree. But one fine day, this little girl picked me. My owner handled me with great care. I was, after all, her beloved teddy bear. I seemed to be her biggest comfort, When she couldn't sleep or she felt troubled. Years passed by and so did my time. The little girl didn't need her teddy when she cried. As I lay with the other toys in the attic, I realized that my short life was quite tragic. "Mr. Cuddles! Your child's best friend!" But who's going to care about me in the end? I played my part. I stayed with you. But in the end this is what it came to. Mr. Cuddles, the lonely one. Who lies in the attic with his fur undone. The cotton keeps falling out of his limb, The once happy bear now lays grim.                                                     -Wayward❤
0
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 1:57 PM UTC
Mr. Cuddles
They drove me across the country, from the busy city where we departed to intimate villages where they recessed, and spent a star filled, moonlit night singing songs, their bodies casting long, wavy shadows from campfires they huddled around. Just as I got too cold and my wheels couldn't turn anymore did they finally turn the spark plugs, revving and igniting my despair and sensitivity producing heat. Sometimes they pushed until I shoved and scraped my rubber on asphalt, on rocks, on sand, on boulders big and small, and I hit a flat-line; the air I could hold in no longer. They rode me into a forest whose undergrowth was as thick as a bears' fur during the winter, and redwood that spanned the horizon you thought it could pat the constellations. A forest teeming with life that one would react like Wendy from Peter Pan-- never wanting to leave Neverland. And I could see it in their soft faces and squinting eyes, bright and lit up with joy, every detail apparent as if I burst my headlights into high-beam, directly on them. It was there I ran out of gas and my engines parched for oil, from the endless adventure that was exhilarating and memorable. One could, as a result, easily forget responsibilities. There was no service or refill station nearby, so I was abandoned where I parked, flat tires, rusty hood, broken chassis, dilapidated suspension. I've proved my worth from when I was brought in and over time it wasn't enough. Only repairing, never maintaining.
0
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 2:11 AM UTC
The Walking Engine
I am a ragdoll cat. Docile and placid, I bend to your touch, my silky fur invites your inquisitive fingers. Easy come, easy go. My claws are only for show. Bred for affection, I'm the perfect pet. I'll follow you wherever you go. But the thing about ragdoll cats is when danger is near, we do not know. We see predators the same as friends because it's in our nature to go with the flow. Too many times, I've been ripped to shreds, been tossed around and thrown to the wolves. When I land on my feet and lick my wounds, I go right back to being a ragdoll.
0
Apr 25, 2016
Apr 25, 2016 at 7:23 PM UTC
Ragdoll Cat
Run now     little deer . run, run among the leaves and vines so    eloquently    tethered. Run       now timid child, be safe, hide yourself among       them. run now little  deer   , run far, as far as your      thin legs will take you. please don't let the bow       hit you, please keep your fur soft and       mind clear. little child with those     hazel eyes. don't let your     life pass you by like it has    done to I. Run     now little deer.
0
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 9:35 PM UTC
deer
She eats, she sleeps; my cat does nothing more; her naps can last until the day is done; her habits make her really quite a bore; in storms she sleeps; she sleeps in beams of sun. She wakes to stretch, her mouth a gaping yawn; she stands, and turns, and lays back down asleep; at night, she sleeps from dusk into the dawn; she dozes well, adept at counting sheep. Her fur, it gleams, no doubt from beauty rest; perhaps she knows more than she seems to know; I wake; upon my head sits a rat’s nest; my beauty slumber never seems to show. And though my cat is lazy all the time, I can’t see her as anyone’s but mine.
0
Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 2:57 PM UTC
Cat Sonnet
howling at the moon, in the deep cold of the night. the lone wolf lurks around, expressing its only fright. it cries out for company, but all he gets is the wind. blood runs cold, fur collects frost, a hush falls onto his lips this is the lone wolf's silencing, and silence he shall keep.
0
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 11:05 PM UTC
The Lone Wolf's Silencing
My father is black and my mother is white And though we live in a new generation I still find myself having to give explainations on how all of this works The ignorance of race really hurts No this is not good hair No you can't touch it keep your ******* hands to yourself No I'm not Mexican or Puerto Rican Stop guessing above all else I'm black like you And I'm white like her I'm flesh and blood not claws and fur But see you don't want to accept me Of course unless I'm president Obama or Halle Berry Did you know they were mixed? Or were you so deep in the lime light you don't care Because on the streets I'm not considered black no matter how coarse my hair I use relaxers too I've had my hair braided I've been called ****** I've been followed in stores I've been sent to the end of the line for no reason Denied friendship for seasons And wouldn't you know (Being black was the reason) But its just not enough to gain any trust I don't look anything like white people so I dont even try Only hope for full acceptance from the other side And yet still I'm left feeling quite empty inside Where the hell do I fit in? Who's on my side? Since claiming black or white is considered a crime This was when I decided to become an advocate of self I found who I was Didn't need any help I don't let my race define who I am But I embrace both my colors They work well with each other And that's something society just will not understand
0
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 11:21 AM UTC
biracial
Human directives, veracities unverified   Bellies belching with anger, murderers Udders dripping hate, foundling banters Hunters striking the hungered, unfortunate Glare sight to seek the truth, hold me lets sink Tear motions and debates of inequality My Dafur, the realm of the fur, demise All armed in Sudan, the arid, a battlefield Emergency alarms sirens from 2003 The indefinite complications and hunger A land of the displaced, starving nomads Hear me out in these non-dissolving conflicts Guantanamo bay detention a prison vicious A base for “war in terrorism”, reciprocal laws Inhumane human interrogations persists A breach, a revolt, the hunger riots devolve Force-feeding, torturous measures applied All undressed, humiliated, genitalia exposed A Rwanda slain in divide and rule Civil clashes, mashes, all trashed Swaying war rapes, tapes, the raves Machetes slashing necks and hands A lust of power, a genocide slaughter The Tutsi slewed and unsewn from a patch Autocratic regime boring divisions Territorial ethnic cleansing, a holocaust The oppression of Jews, Romanis, Poles Homosexuals, the disabled and mentally ill Indifference pooled in pits and camps The institutional social indoctrination The honor and killing to expose shame The violation and dishonor of moral fabric For what is “good”, “bad”, fixated moral values Buried waists and head, awaiting stones to hit Confessional secrets of only what lays within A torment watching witnesses, all dangling Marxists calls ships to stow ashore Masses kidnapped, confused in deceit Invalid contracts awaits signatures The white immigrants to be enslaved All aboard, now abroad to revolve labor Wage packages taken to pay for freedom Humans bought and sold to be owned Slaves yorked and counted as assets Bounded to serve plantations and homes A human, non human, a chattel, a slave A debt ******* offended and ***** Untamed and made to obey a master A falling global strings unturned Tunes strumming hate, war and pain Human trafficking, violence, inequality Child abuse, civil conflicts, capitalists Commercialism, zero hour contracts For if we have no rights, I have none For if we have no peace I have none
0
Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 6:54 AM UTC
Cruel Inhumane Autocracies
Human directives, veracities unverified   Bellies belching with anger, murderers Udders dripping hate, foundling banters Hunters striking the hungered, unfortunate Glare sight to seek the truth, hold me lets sink Tear motions and debates of inequality My Dafur, the realm of the fur, demise All armed in Sudan, the arid, a battlefield Emergency alarms sirens from 2003 The indefinite complications and hunger A land of the displaced, starving nomads Hear me out in these non-dissolving conflicts Guantanamo bay detention a prison vicious A base for “war in terrorism”, reciprocal laws Inhumane human interrogations persists A breach, a revolt, the hunger riots devolve Force-feeding, torturous measures applied All undressed, humiliated, genitalia exposed A Rwanda slain in divide and rule Civil clashes, mashes, all trashed Swaying war rapes, tapes, the raves Machetes slashing necks and hands A lust of power, a genocide slaughter The Tutsi slewed and unsewn from a patch Autocratic regime boring divisions Territorial ethnic cleansing, a holocaust The oppression of Jews, Romanis, Poles Homosexuals, the disabled and mentally ill Indifference pooled in pits and camps The institutional social indoctrination The honor and killing to expose shame The violation and dishonor of moral fabric For what is “good”, “bad”, fixated moral values Buried waists and head, awaiting stones to hit Confessional secrets of only what lays within A torment watching witnesses, all dangling Marxists calls ships to stow ashore Masses kidnapped, confused in deceit Invalid contracts awaits signatures The white immigrants to be enslaved All aboard, now abroad to revolve labor Wage packages taken to pay for freedom Humans bought and sold to be owned Slaves yorked and counted as assets Bounded to serve plantations and homes A human, non human, a chattel, a slave A debt ******* offended and ***** Untamed and made to obey a master A falling global strings unturned Tunes strumming hate, war and pain Human trafficking, violence, inequality Child abuse, civil conflicts, capitalists Commercialism, zero hour contracts For if we have no rights, I have none For if we have no peace I have none
Continue reading...
55
Fur is white Like the snow In which it hides By crouching low. Fur is dark Like summer’s ground. It stalks its prey Without a sound. As the rabbit Eats green grass, Up it sneaks As smooth as glass. A silent pounce, Barely a fight. Now it has A meal tonight. Such vicious beauty Has a price. A hunter takes aim As it eats mice. Unaware Of another being, It doesn’t hear The birds stop singing. The hunter steps But breaks a stick. It looks around; The tension’s thick. The hunter smiles. He’s about to shoot. Now it sees The hunter’s boot. It turns to run Away from danger, Away from death Brought by this stranger. A shot rings out, An undecided fate. Did he hit his target? Or did he shoot too late?
0
Sep 13, 2011
Sep 13, 2011 at 10:06 PM UTC
Arctic Fox
They bruise their pupils with the sharp red roses. They built in an empire with fur ruffles & sequins. They lived with poise spark & jealousy. Burnt yet alive, torn yet together. Eyes, prudent of all, Minds, dangerous of all. Survive, said the Father Believe, said the Jesus
0
Jun 16, 2018
Jun 16, 2018 at 1:35 PM UTC
A sequin murderous soul
Never noticed me Under her pink dye And thick thighs. Never noticed me In others eyes, In others lies. Didn’t notice me Sinking in And taking name. A kiss on the neck And I’m to blame. Didn’t notice me Notice her, The other one With darker fur. I feel like a kid again, The butterflies In my stomach And on my face Give way to Nails on my neck And choke That I can taste. I drink to Blue eyes And costly affairs. The timid blonde That broke silence Now laughs at me With a stare. “Smile,” she says.
0
Mar 14, 2010
Mar 14, 2010 at 2:30 PM UTC
Single Mother
Hey Human! I am your Sibling. Queen bee wings are Ripped, bee niblings are Smoked For Your Honey Sweet. Hey human! Listen your Sibling’s Buzz. Tiger lost bones for Medicine, Fox lost fur for Fashion, Sharks lost fins for Soup. Hey human! Do Not Butcher Siblings. Simba’s life is not your Trophy, Jumbo’s tusks are not Decors, Helmets of Hornbills are not jewels. Hey human! Do Not Reap Siblings. Emperors of ice continent lost land, Economics is making Amazon less, Logging makes Orangutans homeless. Hey human! Do Not Invade Siblings. Warm oceans bleach corals, Water depleted in cities, We ingest plastic regularly. Hey human! Do Not Desert the Earth. Overfishing is holocaust of aquatic life, Livestock levitates toxic emissions. Hey human! Do Not Prey on Siblings. Lichens stunned by pollution, Symbionts are disintegrating, Biodiversity is declining. Hey human! Be Together with Siblings. Hey Human! We are Offsprings of Mother Nature. Monera, Animalia, Fungi, Plantae, Protista all have common roots. We are branches of the one Phylogenetic Tree rooting Common Ancestry unto LUCA. Hey Human! We are Siblings. Hey Human! Recall your Siblings. Hey Human! Revive your Siblings.
0
Jul 20, 2019
Jul 20, 2019 at 11:19 AM UTC
The Forgotten Sibling
Snow Mountain I walk alone these darkened hills, can see my breath and getting chills. My party left me long ago, they didn't like my altered ego. Snow blowing in my face, they said they needed space. Feet and hands becoming numb, never have I felt so **** dumb. Found a cave and there they were, me freezing, them wearing fur. Never has a fire felt so good, not sure where they got the wood. Then I noticed a very distinct odor, they were burning our guide, Schroeder. On the cave wall, I see four more dead, eating the brains from their very head. I yelled, What the **** are you doing, couldn't believe what I was viewing. They said, Shut up or you're next, I got on my knees and paid my last respects. Spinning the body just like a pig roast, I'd be happy with just a bite of toast. As I watched them eat the bodies, if I had a camera, I'd make copies. Days went by and I got hungry, the human body tastes so chunky. Finally something that didn't taste like chicken, my body was getting stronger and beginning to thicken. We never did get discovered, ended up in hell, getting eaten by an evil buzzard.
0
Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 1:17 AM UTC
Snow Mountain
Trying to find solace in the suburbs when everything seemed superb like that cookie-cutter, picket fence, faux fur mentality they instill at the start Just an infant with scars He reached for her baby bump, Then slammed it hard onto the stairwell She fell, wept, and held That lil princess and prayed she'd never have the same hell All grown up. Alive and well shes got different demons different intricate cells It's been said she is special      she is awake But, in many ways She is the same As that ANGEL who carried her 23 years ago That's debt I'll always owe A gift I'll never own Carefully Constructed and Creatively Sewn shoved a soul into that shell That'll one day guide her back home Shes got her mamas tough, yet gentle heart her smile, brevity and love for art.. she can write her *** off like her the wrote and the writ Yet she's plagued by guilt every ******* minute GUILT for the life that she'd been given GUILT  for each exhale emitted She prays that God will have the sense to go back in time and hit OMIT (on all chapters even close to the word 'human' there's GUILT for feeling guilty even more for despising your own ) "I must've slipped through the gate, admit it! Or recruit another for your mission regretfully, I must solicit that I'm not fit for this position I'm no hero I'm the villain If ya look close you'll see I spit venom" Mama walks in smiles and says "WE. ARE. WOMEN!" "Betta recognize and quit your bitchin' as of today, you are living.. You are loved You are safe You are ************* winning WARRIOR, CREATOR, QUEEN, GODDESS, INCARNATE.. We are strength & We are the faith never to be broken but we still stay brave The Legend wont start or end with you Its a fight stretched out through  time You will understand soon No matter how much you ask "WHY" It wont stop circumstance wont stop lies wont stop suffering and will NEVER compromise Your in the way of the wave, child This.....  the secret to life When in the way of the wave... its only a matter of time S0 if youre searching for solace Will you promise To memorize this line
0
Mar 9, 2018
Mar 9, 2018 at 3:54 AM UTC
Mom
Trying to find solace in the suburbs when everything seemed superb like that cookie-cutter, picket fence, faux fur mentality they instill at the start Just an infant with scars He reached for her baby bump, Then slammed it hard onto the stairwell She fell, wept, and held That lil princess and prayed she'd never have the same hell All grown up. Alive and well shes got different demons different intricate cells It's been said she is special      she is awake But, in many ways She is the same As that ANGEL who carried her 23 years ago That's debt I'll always owe A gift I'll never own Carefully Constructed and Creatively Sewn shoved a soul into that shell That'll one day guide her back home Shes got her mamas tough, yet gentle heart her smile, brevity and love for art.. she can write her *** off like her the wrote and the writ Yet she's plagued by guilt every ******* minute GUILT for the life that she'd been given GUILT  for each exhale emitted She prays that God will have the sense to go back in time and hit OMIT (on all chapters even close to the word 'human' there's GUILT for feeling guilty even more for despising your own ) "I must've slipped through the gate, admit it! Or recruit another for your mission regretfully, I must solicit that I'm not fit for this position I'm no hero I'm the villain If ya look close you'll see I spit venom" Mama walks in smiles and says "WE. ARE. WOMEN!" "Betta recognize and quit your bitchin' as of today, you are living.. You are loved You are safe You are ************* winning WARRIOR, CREATOR, QUEEN, GODDESS, INCARNATE.. We are strength & We are the faith never to be broken but we still stay brave The Legend wont start or end with you Its a fight stretched out through  time You will understand soon No matter how much you ask "WHY" It wont stop circumstance wont stop lies wont stop suffering and will NEVER compromise Your in the way of the wave, child This.....  the secret to life When in the way of the wave... its only a matter of time S0 if youre searching for solace Will you promise To memorize this line
Continue reading...
85
A big planet filled to the brim with chozo ghosts X parasite hosts and things that want me dead my power suit lost all the beams missiles, energy tanks, space jump, even additional armor is gone I'm all alone on this world to conquer but I don't have time for a bad fur day, I must get onto the impact crater.... Samus Log Entry 6/1/2119
0
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 11:59 AM UTC
Tallon 4