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"gapping" poems
The beauty of comatose can only be seen through the eyes of a wizard in a blizzard strutting in garlic slippers, or Christ with knees bent at the tabernacle peeling bananas and kicking prayers farther than eternity with each gapping second, or like Basquiat slumped back to the wall, with ounces of speedball dancing through his veins, eating 80’s free-based fried chicken *******   as his eyelids paints beautiful nightmares of lemon flowers and Bacchus bacon over a glycopyrrolate desert of flagrant cuckold buffoonery. Or like leprechauns burning chocolate ******* candles on the mantle of Zion, sipping oatmeal sprinkled with Staten Island malt liquor bacon. or like Tupac reading the thoughts of Mother Shipton through the daze of California cannabis and hearing the ominous voice of Plutarch sing death assignments from heaven to Assassins on horsebacks goggling ***** water to wet the dry bones of their throats as they prepare to fulfill the gospel of self-fulfilling prophecies of being fell by ***** bullets. Or like sophisticated wallets of spice and kitchen characters in a bald head cooking chemical kisses and 18 February nights under Moloch’s skin, where constitutions are written in charcoal diaries with Egyptian ciphers and razors. “I had rain sowed into the pockets of my sneakers and composed 1310 eulogies at the basement of king David’s tower,” said the Kraftwerkian caricature, as he dangles cigarettes in remembrance of Klaus Nomi and philosophizes on the proliferation of poetic vandalism at urinals where modernism failed under the phosphorescence of coloration at the avenue of no trees where Picasso's "Guernica" **** Lies All.
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Jul 17, 2012
Jul 17, 2012 at 6:01 PM UTC
Stream: the 13th love song of Alfred Prufrock
The beauty of comatose can only be seen through the eyes of a wizard in a blizzard strutting in garlic slippers, or Christ with knees bent at the tabernacle peeling bananas and kicking prayers farther than eternity with each gapping second, or like Basquiat slumped back to the wall, with ounces of speedball dancing through his veins, eating 80’s free-based fried chicken *******   as his eyelids paints beautiful nightmares of lemon flowers and Bacchus bacon over a glycopyrrolate desert of flagrant cuckold buffoonery. Or like leprechauns burning chocolate ******* candles on the mantle of Zion, sipping oatmeal sprinkled with Staten Island malt liquor bacon. or like Tupac reading the thoughts of Mother Shipton through the daze of California cannabis and hearing the ominous voice of Plutarch sing death assignments from heaven to Assassins on horsebacks goggling ***** water to wet the dry bones of their throats as they prepare to fulfill the gospel of self-fulfilling prophecies of being fell by ***** bullets. Or like sophisticated wallets of spice and kitchen characters in a bald head cooking chemical kisses and 18 February nights under Moloch’s skin, where constitutions are written in charcoal diaries with Egyptian ciphers and razors. “I had rain sowed into the pockets of my sneakers and composed 1310 eulogies at the basement of king David’s tower,” said the Kraftwerkian caricature, as he dangles cigarettes in remembrance of Klaus Nomi and philosophizes on the proliferation of poetic vandalism at urinals where modernism failed under the phosphorescence of coloration at the avenue of no trees where Picasso's "Guernica" **** Lies All.
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28
There will always be someone who's greedy Who will do wrong just to fill it Greed can never be filled, it can never be satisfied or sated It will always be a gapping neverendding hole that demands to be filled with empty things Greed will take anything Money, drugs, *** power Anything It won't ever be filled No matter how much you give It will always take up everything It will even take your soul
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Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 1:10 AM UTC
Greed
We sat at the table, waiting for our number to be called. Their pepperoni pizza, was our most favorite one of all. Our number is announced, George is carrying the pizza back. When close, he decides to act, as though he trips in his tracks. In slow motion, that pizza, slid so smoothly out of the pan. George's eyes got big as saucers, he saw the folly of his plan. There I was in my new outfit, that cost half of my paycheck. With pizza, upside down on my lap and sauce splashed on my neck. Amazingly calm, George scooped the pizza up in his hands. Melted cheese, stretching and stringing, from my pants in gooey strands. He stood there patting and pressing the pizza back into shape. That poor pizza looked just like a badly, bulldozered landscape. It lay there sort of twisted, pepperoni all to one side. Crust pieces stinking out of it, like a saucy red mudslide. Then he sat down across from me, silently as if waiting. I must have looked like a blonde fish, sitting there, just gapping. Then a chuckle escaped my lips, as his eyes raised to meet mine. He looked just like a little boy, who just got caught in a crime. I'm surprised we didn't get kicked out for making such a fuss. 'Cause, next thing you know, the whole place is laughing along with us. We couldn't stop, there was no way we'd been able. Not while upsidedown-lap pizza, stared at us from the table
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Oct 27, 2010
Oct 27, 2010 at 7:04 PM UTC
He Knew How To Impress
Band-aids to prevent the social infections that could eventually spread to the frontal lobe, Diseases started on Fox News, spread to the living room, circulate around the family dinner table putting victims of ignorance on the coroner’s slab Alleviate the pain. Should we let the gapping wounds of intolerance fester, decay and grow maggots? ***** bigotry, vile illiteracy, primitive ideas coat the skins of society like a black goo. Band-aids: self adhesive bandages We aren’t teachers. We are medics. covering the gapping wounds of life lathering the lesions with Neosporin. Healing the scars from parenting gone wrong - scars from wounded self-esteems -lacerations to the proverbial heart Scars lasting longer than the body itself.   No one knows where its impact will end. Band-aids temporary fix heal the wound fast, heal the hurt faster A Johnson and Johnson remedy for damaged organisms Well-meaning ones hurling scriptures scald hands with tainted words Healing is a matter of time. Arm teachers to protect children from the crazies who loom? What will protect them from their own inherited ignorance? The damage is already done when they get here. Equip us with Band-Aids, boxes and boxes. Hello Kitty over their ears to block the infection from coming in Spiderman for their mouths. Stop the seepage of any contamination from spreading to others. The remaining scars will fade, but not disappear. even with a band-aid.
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Oct 14, 2013
Oct 14, 2013 at 8:13 PM UTC
Band-aids
I don't know what pieces of me want you. It's lucky for you, honestly   if I knew where they were hiding I wouldn't think twice about ripping them out of me. I would leave gapping holes in my chest, I would abandon my mind for the sound of static on repeat, I would swallow combustibles, and paint my insides on the walls of my bedroom if it meant I'd be able to want happiness for myself more than I want it for you.
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Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 2:39 PM UTC
Lucky For You
The wood was beneath, warped With age, as the worms crept Falling into the gapping chasm Of petrified air. Ingested upon Shattered bone, was the ragged Wanting beneath. The stone was polished, kept As if newly left. Never was Their needing for never were Clothes tattered, they dined Upon pigeon heart and entails Of pedigree cat. The Woman, of both below and Above, vested wording to the Ever breaking of parched skin and Bone. Those of wood and worm, clawing Ascending through dirt, what was Left of flesh pealed upon roots and Stone, now only ragged cloth and ***** bone. Why must we of the earth suffer, The indignity of dirt while those Above treated differently, we are the same are we not, death is Universal rot. Then those of marble spoke up, You are not like us for we are of Death but we are of flesh, Parched but whole, we are of The clean, while you are of Earth festering and rot. "Silence" "Still your airless voices" "Each has a valid point" "But my children of decay let me explain" My children of earth you exhume Yourselves each day, this shows Strength for the journey you take, Hardening you resolve. You are neither filth or below, Your strength is what others Should look up to, you are pure Of the mortal coils of flesh you Are flawless in death. My children of stone, what can Be said,  you cling to life, but That time has pasted, you Linger upon flesh that is but a moment from dust. Time in earth has made your Brothers and Sisters strong, While yours are weakened The weaknesses of above, my Commands are simple their Must never be two, death is Singular we decay as one. What was pasted, those of marble Stripped of parched decadence, They were now pure as those below. Feast as others on that which crawls Nourished by mother earth. The woman of bone, wood and stone, Was  a fair keeper and the only Marble that graced was that which Named those who slept below, They were pure of mortal coils They where the dead of bone.
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Apr 19, 2015
Apr 19, 2015 at 8:31 AM UTC
The Woman Of Bone, Wood & Stone
The wood was beneath, warped With age, as the worms crept Falling into the gapping chasm Of petrified air. Ingested upon Shattered bone, was the ragged Wanting beneath. The stone was polished, kept As if newly left. Never was Their needing for never were Clothes tattered, they dined Upon pigeon heart and entails Of pedigree cat. The Woman, of both below and Above, vested wording to the Ever breaking of parched skin and Bone. Those of wood and worm, clawing Ascending through dirt, what was Left of flesh pealed upon roots and Stone, now only ragged cloth and ***** bone. Why must we of the earth suffer, The indignity of dirt while those Above treated differently, we are the same are we not, death is Universal rot. Then those of marble spoke up, You are not like us for we are of Death but we are of flesh, Parched but whole, we are of The clean, while you are of Earth festering and rot. "Silence" "Still your airless voices" "Each has a valid point" "But my children of decay let me explain" My children of earth you exhume Yourselves each day, this shows Strength for the journey you take, Hardening you resolve. You are neither filth or below, Your strength is what others Should look up to, you are pure Of the mortal coils of flesh you Are flawless in death. My children of stone, what can Be said,  you cling to life, but That time has pasted, you Linger upon flesh that is but a moment from dust. Time in earth has made your Brothers and Sisters strong, While yours are weakened The weaknesses of above, my Commands are simple their Must never be two, death is Singular we decay as one. What was pasted, those of marble Stripped of parched decadence, They were now pure as those below. Feast as others on that which crawls Nourished by mother earth. The woman of bone, wood and stone, Was  a fair keeper and the only Marble that graced was that which Named those who slept below, They were pure of mortal coils They where the dead of bone.
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68
Far from where I have ever been we lay beneath a coconut tree.   The sun was mild as you lathered me in protection. I smiled when you reached the arch of my back and slide under the bikini. You have such large and capable hands I felt my stress leave my body as the waves crash to shore in front of us. In the distance an 80s classic played out of spaced speakers atop poles where wicker lights were strung. We weren’t alone but the world fell away the moment your lips touched my shoulder. You then gently slide my copper waves to one side to press them to the nape of my neck. You know all my spots. You know exactly how to ignite me. How to bring me to life. I crave your lips on mine and so I roll over to look up at you. Your hair is piled high and secured with a clip. Your amber eyes hold mischief as your long fingers dance down my exposed stomach to the bottoms of my suit. I say your name to protest even as I arch toward your exploring fingers and invite them in. I capture your mouth to silence my moans. You smell like the sea we had played in most the day. Your lips are still sticky sweet from the coconut we shared. As the waves swelled so did I and like them soon came crashing only to drift back out again. I watch you watching me as I try not to moan. My mouth gapping. Our cabana attendant could check on us any moment… You often look surprised. So utterly in awe of how I respond to your touch. “Could this day get any more perfect?” I did not answer. I was still swimming.
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Dec 27, 2022
Dec 27, 2022 at 4:09 AM UTC
Bahama Mama
Far from where I have ever been we lay beneath a coconut tree.   The sun was mild as you lathered me in protection. I smiled when you reached the arch of my back and slide under the bikini. You have such large and capable hands I felt my stress leave my body as the waves crash to shore in front of us. In the distance an 80s classic played out of spaced speakers atop poles where wicker lights were strung. We weren’t alone but the world fell away the moment your lips touched my shoulder. You then gently slide my copper waves to one side to press them to the nape of my neck. You know all my spots. You know exactly how to ignite me. How to bring me to life. I crave your lips on mine and so I roll over to look up at you. Your hair is piled high and secured with a clip. Your amber eyes hold mischief as your long fingers dance down my exposed stomach to the bottoms of my suit. I say your name to protest even as I arch toward your exploring fingers and invite them in. I capture your mouth to silence my moans. You smell like the sea we had played in most the day. Your lips are still sticky sweet from the coconut we shared. As the waves swelled so did I and like them soon came crashing only to drift back out again. I watch you watching me as I try not to moan. My mouth gapping. Our cabana attendant could check on us any moment… You often look surprised. So utterly in awe of how I respond to your touch. “Could this day get any more perfect?” I did not answer. I was still swimming.
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21
This morning there was blood on the pavement. There are men with teeth where hand should be. With gapping wound and rot, as humiliation. Ones who will turn pelvic bones into a shrine, a good enough trophy. They will collect fingernails like seashells from place called body. They will pry open. They will bite and **** A bruise for a mouth. They will turn place called home into place called body. This morning there were birds in the front yard pulling tiny rubber bands from the Earth. They will turn knees into figures meant for bending. Do not bend. With bravery a wronged honor. A never deserved. An always hurt. Crawl backwards, make birth a survival tactic. A promise. You will shed skin off this skeleton. You will be a tremulous placed called body. You will not bend.
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Sep 16, 2016
Sep 16, 2016 at 1:24 AM UTC
Dainty Stout-heart
How empty the spaces between the stars The darkness between them all ours Because no one wants empty space Like the gapping holes in fine twine lace More darkness in the universe than light And you can only see it at twilight The empty feeling Deep inside And from what I'm seeing Spread so wide The cosmos lost To the darkness The deep high cost Of trying to harness The power of light That was lost in the fight Once the universe was all white But now is a dark sight As light moves away from another And leaves far spaces between And those far spaces smothered In darkness at the seams Everything is darker Never lighter The galaxies shine bright In infinite numbers Yet their gentle light Next to the darkness brings slumber Light can never beat out The empty space so throughout
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Jun 28, 2015
Jun 28, 2015 at 12:41 AM UTC
Lost In-Between
Limbo Black hole quasar pulsar star meridians oblique oracle messages from beyond the lost between the bureau of the forgotten Dreams images disjointed some admirably projected on the screen of the mind they tell you a mystery where is the key Like being in a library books everywhere any subject any topic whatever your taste or fancy but without retrieval how rotten Space fascinates holds men enthralled the searching of the cosmos the whole of life it has consumed the overly curious What I’m talking about is if you could take a meteor shower put it in a black velvet bag capture true magic hold for your disposal Take droplets of rain speak to them and they would obey your voice become for one hour that which you desire most from life Find the passage to the center of the mountain a gapping cave where a true oracle is beheld divine utterance her real espousal You take knowledge long hidden disperse it among the most troubled and confused and aura breaks and arches those of need Life’s dilemmas and contrasts these intangible twisted knotted fields of gloom you touch bows unknown understanding blooms Course contrary buffeted by unpleasant wind oh to know how to rescind make rays of hope grow in resplendent rows The common coal fired and pressured over millennia does purist light ignite the mind soul and heart in excitement it consumes Striation found in the cold glacier this natural marking take from it learn the soul has divine grooves that only play spiritual tunes This might sound farfetched but one day it will be the norm for Gods family the unexpected the unbelievable your daily life Now we are in neutral or the drive is mostly in the natural like you build the best house then someone sticks up an eye sore There is the contrast the conflict your spiritual house shines then your enemy self wrecks and devalues ruination rife The spirit oracle revealed that the devil wants you as a trophy in a case how nice God wants you but he wants you as family
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Jan 1, 2012
Jan 1, 2012 at 8:43 PM UTC
Limbo
Limbo Black hole quasar pulsar star meridians oblique oracle messages from beyond the lost between the bureau of the forgotten Dreams images disjointed some admirably projected on the screen of the mind they tell you a mystery where is the key Like being in a library books everywhere any subject any topic whatever your taste or fancy but without retrieval how rotten Space fascinates holds men enthralled the searching of the cosmos the whole of life it has consumed the overly curious What I’m talking about is if you could take a meteor shower put it in a black velvet bag capture true magic hold for your disposal Take droplets of rain speak to them and they would obey your voice become for one hour that which you desire most from life Find the passage to the center of the mountain a gapping cave where a true oracle is beheld divine utterance her real espousal You take knowledge long hidden disperse it among the most troubled and confused and aura breaks and arches those of need Life’s dilemmas and contrasts these intangible twisted knotted fields of gloom you touch bows unknown understanding blooms Course contrary buffeted by unpleasant wind oh to know how to rescind make rays of hope grow in resplendent rows The common coal fired and pressured over millennia does purist light ignite the mind soul and heart in excitement it consumes Striation found in the cold glacier this natural marking take from it learn the soul has divine grooves that only play spiritual tunes This might sound farfetched but one day it will be the norm for Gods family the unexpected the unbelievable your daily life Now we are in neutral or the drive is mostly in the natural like you build the best house then someone sticks up an eye sore There is the contrast the conflict your spiritual house shines then your enemy self wrecks and devalues ruination rife The spirit oracle revealed that the devil wants you as a trophy in a case how nice God wants you but he wants you as family
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17
If you were to perish I don't know what I'd do with my life I would just crumble Disappearing from all forms of light If you were to perish I wouldn't cry nor would I even be sad I would just stare off into the Darking abyss Lost within the endless loop of sadness If you were to perish What would happen to me Would my soul rot as the depression finally take over, Or would death's sword finally pierce through my wounded heart If you were to perish Would I perish as well Would I finally drop my sword Losing all functions in my body If you were to perish What would I feel Where would I go What would I do If you were to perish What would fill the gapping hole in my chest you'd leave behind Would the little hope I have left finally vanish from my broken heart Momma... Mother Please come back home alive Don't leave me here alone Please momma just come home alive
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Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 2:29 AM UTC
Please momma
Into a damaged heart a temporary fix of one night stands, maybes and what ifs. Glossing over cracks, but the temporary rips, widens in time, gapping holes yawn an infinite scream. Vortex, bottomless swallow hungry to be filled. Waiting for love's builders to swoon with steel and solid bricks
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Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 1:40 PM UTC
Damaged heart d.I.y.
sometimes i pray for you not to god, but to all the dead poets we love, they are all pretentious pushpin ghosts, gapping out of skin and turning around to devour, rumi always asks for me to listen, and i see why i pray in the first place not for your salvation, but so you can blossom into the warrior i know you are
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Oct 25, 2017
Oct 25, 2017 at 12:38 PM UTC
for middy
I am not a tiger, a vampire, or a ghost. I cannot attack them straight on with my ferocious strength. I cannot watch them bleed from my claws. I cannot lure them with beauty and perfection, lulling them in with a smile, snapping necks with bare hands. I cannot sneak up on the shadows gliding soundlessly until I strike. A whisper, a warning, wherever I go. But I can sew together my seams and glue the cracks together. I can fold down the edges and become a gentle circle. I can smile just the right amount to be a gentle, innocent flower, a master of deception. I am a Venus flytrap. An unknowing flower, not as pretty as the rest, but soft and gentle, a perfect place to rest Until I close my gapping mouth around you trapping you inside, Eating you piece by piece until the pain destroys you from inside.
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Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 12:24 AM UTC
Untitled
Once upon a time my heart danced Now it is torn from my very soul Once upon a time we romanced Now I am just a gapping hole You are gone and left me incomplete I feel this lonely life begin to creep With you our love was the meaning of elite Now I am left here, where no one sees me weep This man, this heart is in isolation and pain Not knowing how to be able to move on My tears are hidden by the cold rain I have lost her now and she is gone copyright January 2009 Chris Smith
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Dec 10, 2009
Dec 10, 2009 at 4:43 AM UTC
82: Gone
Air stained in a bitter salt hovered through a mist grasping the calming shore. My eyes squinting at the light spray of sea and wind curled as you, the figure fading in the mist, took to hollow steps as the sands, grey and moist, softened at my feet. The waves pounded as beats ragged, like drums chorusing behind my ribs. You the phantom, the girl lost at my company and forgotten within my reach was feet away. The sky a mass of gray and storm tore at my clinging feet. Footing gave way to pristine silence as I began to take to heaving steps clothed in a metal cloth. Feet away you the ghost, shimmering in paling skin and flowing hair, halted as my steps grew. My sand cloaked hand flew toward your image begging you to succeed to move, to walk from the shadows and dimming mist. Your paper face reveled within the erupting mist, like a frightened child trapped at safety’s door. The shadowing waves grew ravaged fangs at the tip, and bristles at the turn. Refreshing mist choked out the sky like a blizzard smothered in ash. Our cries reverberated within a starling chaos, trialing as your eyes grew blue, and my heart dripped black. Our arms met like birds lost at storm and sea, as echoes ravaged between you and me. Arms shielded backs as hands gripped shoulders. Our faces buried within each other’s skin, as death’s silhouette sailed through the flowing mass of black sea and pale sand. Your frantic skin shook at death’s chilling touch, his hand wrapped at your shoulder was still as the moon gapping in the sky. His form moved as the mist and his lips whispered silence into your perking ear as the rain. Nerves softened as arms withdrew and, like a phantom heading in the mist, death left me and took you.
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Aug 28, 2011
Aug 28, 2011 at 12:03 AM UTC
In the Seas Mist
Air stained in a bitter salt hovered through a mist grasping the calming shore. My eyes squinting at the light spray of sea and wind curled as you, the figure fading in the mist, took to hollow steps as the sands, grey and moist, softened at my feet. The waves pounded as beats ragged, like drums chorusing behind my ribs. You the phantom, the girl lost at my company and forgotten within my reach was feet away. The sky a mass of gray and storm tore at my clinging feet. Footing gave way to pristine silence as I began to take to heaving steps clothed in a metal cloth. Feet away you the ghost, shimmering in paling skin and flowing hair, halted as my steps grew. My sand cloaked hand flew toward your image begging you to succeed to move, to walk from the shadows and dimming mist. Your paper face reveled within the erupting mist, like a frightened child trapped at safety’s door. The shadowing waves grew ravaged fangs at the tip, and bristles at the turn. Refreshing mist choked out the sky like a blizzard smothered in ash. Our cries reverberated within a starling chaos, trialing as your eyes grew blue, and my heart dripped black. Our arms met like birds lost at storm and sea, as echoes ravaged between you and me. Arms shielded backs as hands gripped shoulders. Our faces buried within each other’s skin, as death’s silhouette sailed through the flowing mass of black sea and pale sand. Your frantic skin shook at death’s chilling touch, his hand wrapped at your shoulder was still as the moon gapping in the sky. His form moved as the mist and his lips whispered silence into your perking ear as the rain. Nerves softened as arms withdrew and, like a phantom heading in the mist, death left me and took you.
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3
My chest split, wide as a gapping cavity I was glad to see the empty that spilt from inside of me Not even close to divine prophesie, the vacant space decidedly was mine to elate silently Sometimes even violently; concept into the arms variety, do not lie to me Soul is priority, anxiety, the girl laying next to me No, next to him, closer to than ever now to riding alongside the Calvary of several billion sins All of whom are still egarly wishing That they may yet be finally taken in the next gust of wind Shunyata; weaponless is this army
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Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 8:05 PM UTC
Shunyata see?
1 for the one word, Dad, that breaks my heart 2.. 3...three words that I last said to you "I love you" but I didn't know that would be the last time 4.. 5.. 6... 7... the age when I learned that 2 people don't always stay together. When I heard the fighting and when mom and I moved in a apartment..but without you and I didn't know what to do. 8... 9... 10... 11..When I swore that I hated you because I thought you were never there, when actually I just would try to shut you out 12.. 13...my age when I lost you 13...when I learned what it was like to have something change your life and have a gapping hole so big that I swear people could see through it 13.. I learned how to fake smile and tell people "I'm okay" when I'm tearing myself apart on the inside 14.. I'm scared, everything's changing without you and I can't call you and hear your voice anymore when I'm having a bad day 15... 16... the number of boxes that were sitting on the porch at Mom's house full of stuff that was in my room at our house and I don't know what to do with it so I'll just leave it in a box and try to think that it's still at home with you 17... I don't understand why I lost you and I break down at nights because I try to understand but I just can't 18.. 19... 20... the number of times that I try to write something to you but I stop myself because I have so many words to say to you that I couldn't possible write it down 21... I'm starting to forget all of the little things about you that I want to tell my children 22...I wish that you were still here to tell me that everything will be okay 23...I want to tell you how much you mean to me and how awful and hard it is without you... 24..the date that breaks my heart and brings me back the worst flashbacks 24.. all I think of is how I should've stayed with you, I should've been holding your hand when you were going up to heaven 24.. When people were getting tucked in to bed waiting for Santa come the next morning, I was waiting to wake up from this nightmare 24... tell me this is all a sick joke, I tried calling you, I just want to hear your voice one more time please pick up 24...I can't grow up without my Dad not being here with me please 24..I don't know what I'm going to be with out you you never made it see the 25th
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Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 9:14 PM UTC
counting only goes for so long
1 for the one word, Dad, that breaks my heart 2.. 3...three words that I last said to you "I love you" but I didn't know that would be the last time 4.. 5.. 6... 7... the age when I learned that 2 people don't always stay together. When I heard the fighting and when mom and I moved in a apartment..but without you and I didn't know what to do. 8... 9... 10... 11..When I swore that I hated you because I thought you were never there, when actually I just would try to shut you out 12.. 13...my age when I lost you 13...when I learned what it was like to have something change your life and have a gapping hole so big that I swear people could see through it 13.. I learned how to fake smile and tell people "I'm okay" when I'm tearing myself apart on the inside 14.. I'm scared, everything's changing without you and I can't call you and hear your voice anymore when I'm having a bad day 15... 16... the number of boxes that were sitting on the porch at Mom's house full of stuff that was in my room at our house and I don't know what to do with it so I'll just leave it in a box and try to think that it's still at home with you 17... I don't understand why I lost you and I break down at nights because I try to understand but I just can't 18.. 19... 20... the number of times that I try to write something to you but I stop myself because I have so many words to say to you that I couldn't possible write it down 21... I'm starting to forget all of the little things about you that I want to tell my children 22...I wish that you were still here to tell me that everything will be okay 23...I want to tell you how much you mean to me and how awful and hard it is without you... 24..the date that breaks my heart and brings me back the worst flashbacks 24.. all I think of is how I should've stayed with you, I should've been holding your hand when you were going up to heaven 24.. When people were getting tucked in to bed waiting for Santa come the next morning, I was waiting to wake up from this nightmare 24... tell me this is all a sick joke, I tried calling you, I just want to hear your voice one more time please pick up 24...I can't grow up without my Dad not being here with me please 24..I don't know what I'm going to be with out you you never made it see the 25th
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32
One moment One day You will look into the eyes of the one that's meant to be And it will feel like in that moment that you know everything about the one That one moment That one day Feels like it'll never happen But when it does It will hit your heart hard and it will leave a gapping ache behind that will always be there forever
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May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 9:22 AM UTC
One moment one day
Trying to find my way into you I let you have your way with me Begging from my knees that All I want is you Am I so unlovable because that's true? Am i Unreachable because you don't touch me the way you used to Unsavable trying to stay afloat These seas of turmoil and lost hope Unforgivable when words cut straight through Leaving us with these open gapping wounds No use talking when words fall upon deaf ears No use crying when you've seen so many tears Dreams are made of clay when they never quite come true Am I so unlovable when all I wanted was you? You lift me up just to watch me fall **** with head like its nothing at all Why dont you just hold me baby the way you used to do? What makes my lonely heart feel this way? Have we become impossible to save? You get close to my skin and I reach to touch you but You wont let me in Why wont you surrender? I'm the only one left when your day is done And yet my heart bleeds As I become so unlovable to you
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Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 3:24 PM UTC
Undesirable
Her legs went up Behind her Her mouth gapping In delightful excitement ***** you disgust me I say to her What round eyes You have Now I take a second Look at the veins In her neck Bulging hot red In an instant I grab her Biting till I choke her She cringes She screams She starts tapping On the bed Let me in I whispered deeply While feeling The coarsness of her Warm succulent beauty Between my nostrils And lips She claws at my mouth Opening her viscious World to me That's more like it I yell in delightful beauty Uh oh too late shes dead And I drop her On the floor And go hunt The grounds For more Yummmmm
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Dec 6, 2017
Dec 6, 2017 at 1:15 PM UTC
No Ide@
Ready to pummel that head in the way Altering and destroying every decision that is made The ultimate backfire that won’t let up This brain is failing me and I’m more than fed up Loss of major motor skills Walking like the dead Lights are flickering, in and out from the faulty wirings in my head Hearing loud noises and smelling sweet scents But on grass of a lawn, body is forward bent Face first in a pile of dog **** Such a strong feeling of confusion and can’t get rid of it I get up and start to walk In my mind I am sitting and smoking Blind to the reality of my body choking Hoping for a simple escape These drugs never wear off when I’m in this state Free, these chains of steel Repelled any real emotion I can ever feel There out to get me I know it’s real In the world where you know my body is limp Grasping for air but brain once again fails it Merely seven more minutes of brain activity left, I am still trapped Memories of things that never happened Feelings of regret and relief are more than gapping I take a slice of that deathday cake Never ever knowing that I’m not even awake Fake
0
Feb 15, 2014
Feb 15, 2014 at 1:32 AM UTC
Fake
years of downstream rivers carried by north arctic waters which snaked through the snowcapped peaks of a lone, lone mountain the temple of the universe drinking in the marvelous view yet, sometimes sediment grows and lay upon a layer of filth which accumulates and seethe into the gapping fissures which I have patched, suppose and stalagmite stifle into a frozen expanse of glistening rock pillars diverting the direction of the waters beckoning for a quake in the ether yet all that is inevitable, a grandiose cry, the lone peak began to grow restless, so thus divert the temperament of the waters, yearning for the scrape of another fresh spell, another wonderful, out-of-the-world view
0
Jul 21, 2016
Jul 21, 2016 at 9:56 PM UTC
Another View
Minds are dark places When all you can do is lay in bed nothing is safe anymore There is no fear or insecurity that is off limits I can't escape Even in my dreams they follow me Death just seems so easy And I know it's selfish believe me I am trying not to act how I feel Everything is becoming real Depression creeps up from the ground and encloses my body Covering every crack and gapping hole because it knows I'm already empty Because the only thing that fuels fear is more fear And everyday I take a heaping dose of doubt and play my usual role The need to bleed is very prevalent But I don't even want to try anymore Because the more I say I'm fine the more I don't care And why should I?
0
Aug 7, 2015
Aug 7, 2015 at 3:28 PM UTC
Losing Faith