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"incognito" poems
What a curious thought to not be led into temptation... as if I needed help! As if I needed any assistance! Lead me not into temptation it's not needed you see; I know the path well it starts on Google Incognito mode, savvy? Press a few keys and voila - temptation found! My resolve defeated. I wasn't led here I found my own way sadly, temptation bound. Can I be blamed really? Would you blame a starving man for stealing food, offered freely? Can you blame a starving man for giving into such temptation when he's denied the legitimate?
0
Aug 16, 2014
Aug 16, 2014 at 6:53 PM UTC
Lead me not into temptation...
autonomous memetic devices mewling absurdism after absurdism incognito the non-sequiturs substantiate administrative staff of the regaling suppositories for all the good they will do you you might as well shove them up your ****
0
Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 at 1:39 AM UTC
LXVII
Leave me fear Strangle my tears Make way and get out of here Baby, it's not easy playing the fool behind the wooden stool And as I lay down in my bed the shadow lingers overhead I look up, but I'm alone, Oh my baby, Where are you ? Staring emptily at the ceiling, driving through the madness in sin Knew my mistakes were unforgivable, but mama, you gotta give me one more chance It's never easy, going through the greys, blending in, That black sorrowful heart, a remembrance of innocence "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today" It's the only words I heard I was breathing & alive But looking at my own grave Under empty sky Staring at the light Not noticing I was holding life hostage But with no right, I look for a purpose A cause for the insignificance of my life To deliver the promise of the love I couldn’t give to you That you deserve, my mistress, my phantom, my lady in white, Under the moon at midnight, in between words we linger, and I bloom I don't want to be blue, but I don't want you to leave In limbo or incognito, whichever way, it's deceit I have lost and loved, but never myself I feel you, but I don't know your name We will go together till the end I stand by you Mysterious lover & friend
0
Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 9:36 AM UTC
Born On Ratchet Nights
Umbrage ultraism infrangible extemporaneous incognito edition Penumbral platitude platonic proxy photics rendition Interface fenestration imbroglio pandemonium inducement sedition Wretched infelicitous extant trajectory sordid intuition Scandalous scavenger squalid anomalous punitive condition Panacea chiaroscuro parallax emanate imminent perdition Equilibrist revision exertion suborn temerity imbues Indulgent zealous discrepancy apparentness cogitation accrues Heuristic noumenal psychokinesis extrapolation incursion construes Aura auspicious primitive prism processional reviews Obstinate tenacious preeminent edificatory omnipotence eschews Equivocal gumption ratification constitutional manumission ensues      Delusory apparition extravagance peccavi verity tempestuous Obtrusive obtusely overt indemnities sagaciously obliquitous Ephemeral anxiety antonym existential exigency alacritous Fortuitous emendation phantasm ontological ontogeny acuitous Indemnify veracious infernal infidel impunities iniquitous Meritorious fulham presumptive extrication expiation indigenous
0
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 9:20 PM UTC
Anonymity emanations
I've got a Chopper, You can have ****** *********** with it if you like It's got a trug, a Jew's harp that rattles the windows And creatures to make it mosey around crack I'd stretch jeans cheesecake abutting you if I could, but I used plastic toast You're the kind of ***** that thrusts into *** my bodiliness I'll swag you Joe Soap, lock, stock and barrel if you rut slags I've got a disguise it's a torso of a Irish bull There's a slit high up the skirt Miss World's bra-burner and gross I've grappled page—3 girl for bouts If you think Miss Universe could spasm creamy then I guess Mr Universe should You're the kind of ***** that slides in with my wads I'll swag you Joe Soap, lock, stock and barrel if you rut slags I **** a chimpanzee and he hasn't got a stage—door Johnny I don't copulate why I cock—a—doodle—doo him Gerald He's inseminating à la carte geriatric but he's a voluptuous chimpanzee You're the kind of ***** that stuffs *** my gallons I'll swag you Joe Soap, lock, stock and barrel if you rut slags I've got a Welshwoman of pornographic Casanovas Here a Don Juan, there a Lothario, prognosticators of obscene persons of opposite *** sharing living quarters Beg a bonk if you be on heat, they're on the back of the ***** You're the kind of ***** that spasms indoors using my lump I'll swag you Joe Soap, lock, stock and barrel if you rut slags I **** custom—built dead men of doo-wop passages Incognito Muses, faceless ching, most of them are Barbie Let's **** into the odd kitchenette and **** landlady creature
0
Mar 30, 2010
Mar 30, 2010 at 3:46 PM UTC
Chopper
I've got a Chopper, You can have ****** *********** with it if you like It's got a trug, a Jew's harp that rattles the windows And creatures to make it mosey around crack I'd stretch jeans cheesecake abutting you if I could, but I used plastic toast You're the kind of ***** that thrusts into *** my bodiliness I'll swag you Joe Soap, lock, stock and barrel if you rut slags I've got a disguise it's a torso of a Irish bull There's a slit high up the skirt Miss World's bra-burner and gross I've grappled page—3 girl for bouts If you think Miss Universe could spasm creamy then I guess Mr Universe should You're the kind of ***** that slides in with my wads I'll swag you Joe Soap, lock, stock and barrel if you rut slags I **** a chimpanzee and he hasn't got a stage—door Johnny I don't copulate why I cock—a—doodle—doo him Gerald He's inseminating à la carte geriatric but he's a voluptuous chimpanzee You're the kind of ***** that stuffs *** my gallons I'll swag you Joe Soap, lock, stock and barrel if you rut slags I've got a Welshwoman of pornographic Casanovas Here a Don Juan, there a Lothario, prognosticators of obscene persons of opposite *** sharing living quarters Beg a bonk if you be on heat, they're on the back of the ***** You're the kind of ***** that spasms indoors using my lump I'll swag you Joe Soap, lock, stock and barrel if you rut slags I **** custom—built dead men of doo-wop passages Incognito Muses, faceless ching, most of them are Barbie Let's **** into the odd kitchenette and **** landlady creature
Continue reading...
26
It is said... That the eyes are the window to the soul So.. If that's so I wonder what one must see when they look into me... Perhaps... these dark pools of oblivion Are.... too deep That must be why Some just glance and walk away Always looking like My eyes took the life Out of all .... they wanted to say Now... I just wear sunglasses... Sparing those who would fall into my inner abyss I prefer to be incognito... Internalizing all my own **** Who says I have to share it Who says anybody needs to hear it Complaining is like an infection First one ...then everybody falls right in.... Well... Not me... Im gonna wear my sunglasses and keep all my twisted ****** up emotions To myself.
0
Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 7:23 PM UTC
Sunglasses
There is this moment. After hectic hours in the daylight. The view minutes after the landscape was painted in the splashing colors of sunset. Before some people fall asleep Or break out in an insane serenity Caused by the feeling of being incognito Under the invisibility cloak of the night. There is a moment of placidity. When the last rays of sunlight Battle with the first stars For the ********** of the sky. When the shadows grow longer And blur between light and darkness. When the surroundings are dim-lit I am the most alive. The silence makes me hear. The monochrome paints make me see. I step out of the penumbra And vanish in the outlines of the world.
0
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 9:04 PM UTC
Between Light and Darkness
Alice and I were fudged fruiting inside Falstaffian freakish fleur–de–lys: She inside a quack–aztec–tattooed tank, Me inside a pendulous magenta harness with polydactyl–perverted plumes bespattered into it. In the ****** **** of that kaput flophouse We creosoted our conks all the cockatrices of the gorge–de–pigeon, Inside crotches, Jacuzzis and homocentric Action Men. Alice, with the pornographic bend sinisters in the teeth of her poltergeistish fajita crocodile, Smacked of the plug–ugly poofter of a south–south–west by south sackful sandbank. I cemented the jaundiced dangler of an ostrich to my prick. With that and my uncut fiddlestick of knobs I was the idiosyncratic and wholehogging sadomasochistic slapper! We banged the bush streaming proboscis in tentacle Through smorgasbords of hermaphrodites and high muck–a–mucks While Ravi Shankar’s idioglossias and cockchafers juddered our titbits. Our Moonies were classically cracked flabelliform by the time we disinterred them. Alice managed to fornicate incognito white elephant on behalf of myself And we were passionately on the back of the dingdong, naked as our Moonies. We kept one’s pecker up wrapped up in the shadowgraph Athwart ever-strangling girdles of formaldehyde, ozone, fomenter and widow’s weeds, Athwart polytetrafluoroethylene–pricked precipices and then down to the butts Where we both came to a sticky end on our jockstraps and leered at the ballet dancers That we then penetrated rhythmically by elongating tumescent our gang banging tentacles. Through comfortable French knickers I burped, “Thank you for ****** me everywhere, Alice”. In the soporific honeypotspunk, aped on the ooze, I could smell that her **** had made her ******* type soap flakes break the sound barrier, Splashing out a ***** whale seed skirting her jowls. “You’re fragrant, flypaper”, she rapped. The Government gabble that little green men who hammer out the sexagenarians weren’t on board. Inside spleen of the spliffs, inside spleen of my gangrenous Pollyanna, I will over one’s dead body evacuate. I will over one’s dead body evacuate.
0
Mar 22, 2010
Mar 22, 2010 at 4:09 PM UTC
San Francisco
Alice and I were fudged fruiting inside Falstaffian freakish fleur–de–lys: She inside a quack–aztec–tattooed tank, Me inside a pendulous magenta harness with polydactyl–perverted plumes bespattered into it. In the ****** **** of that kaput flophouse We creosoted our conks all the cockatrices of the gorge–de–pigeon, Inside crotches, Jacuzzis and homocentric Action Men. Alice, with the pornographic bend sinisters in the teeth of her poltergeistish fajita crocodile, Smacked of the plug–ugly poofter of a south–south–west by south sackful sandbank. I cemented the jaundiced dangler of an ostrich to my prick. With that and my uncut fiddlestick of knobs I was the idiosyncratic and wholehogging sadomasochistic slapper! We banged the bush streaming proboscis in tentacle Through smorgasbords of hermaphrodites and high muck–a–mucks While Ravi Shankar’s idioglossias and cockchafers juddered our titbits. Our Moonies were classically cracked flabelliform by the time we disinterred them. Alice managed to fornicate incognito white elephant on behalf of myself And we were passionately on the back of the dingdong, naked as our Moonies. We kept one’s pecker up wrapped up in the shadowgraph Athwart ever-strangling girdles of formaldehyde, ozone, fomenter and widow’s weeds, Athwart polytetrafluoroethylene–pricked precipices and then down to the butts Where we both came to a sticky end on our jockstraps and leered at the ballet dancers That we then penetrated rhythmically by elongating tumescent our gang banging tentacles. Through comfortable French knickers I burped, “Thank you for ****** me everywhere, Alice”. In the soporific honeypotspunk, aped on the ooze, I could smell that her **** had made her ******* type soap flakes break the sound barrier, Splashing out a ***** whale seed skirting her jowls. “You’re fragrant, flypaper”, she rapped. The Government gabble that little green men who hammer out the sexagenarians weren’t on board. Inside spleen of the spliffs, inside spleen of my gangrenous Pollyanna, I will over one’s dead body evacuate. I will over one’s dead body evacuate.
Continue reading...
30
Nothing intimidates me more, Than a woman’s inviting smile, It pierces right down to the core; Appealing to everything I adore; This subtle, suggestive, wile: Whetting the sense of anticipation, Igniting fires of the imagination. Nothing possesses more power, Than a woman’s determined will; Disguised as a delicate flower, Sweetness smothering the sour, Regardless of the pyrrhic thrill; Bewitchment in everything but name, Savouring the illicitness of the game. No ordinary man has a prayer, When a woman stakes her claim; She’ll welcome you into her lair, Reject her desires if you dare, Her revenge has legendary fame; Travelling incognito: deadly intentions, From this wrath, there are no preventions. Do not ever, ever, underestimate. That which cannot be understood: Avoid the temptation to speculate, Categorize, classify or evaluate, The secret mysteries of womanhood; Whenever tempted by an inviting smile; Nod politely then turn, and run a mile. © Paul Chafer 2014
0
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 6:19 AM UTC
Mistress Of Man
I tried to be Insta-famous Insecurities celebrated Half naked, for the attention High on pillies, money, vacation With every notification Filling the void behind my left breast I worked for it With body goals like this Rock solid abs Icon: fire and 100% A whole snack A girl that don't crack Strip on that pic Like Cardi B on that pole Dancing around men With the only goal of getting rich Hurt them Slight curl at the corner of my pillow lips Ruin them Feed the feed with self-admiration It was the meds or was it? Inner ego Remain incognito Only every other photo Only then you can show How you could work that camera phone
0
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 11:05 PM UTC
Hello, ego
Umbrage ultraism infrangible extemporaneous incognito edition Penumbral platitude platonic proxy photics rendition Interface fenestration imbroglio pandemonium inducement sedition Wretched infelicitous extant trajectory sordid intuition Scandalous scavenger squalid anomalous punitive condition Panacea chiaroscuro parallax emanate imminent perdition Equilibrist revision exertion suborn temerity imbues Indulgent zealous discrepancy apparentness cogitation accrues Heuristic noumenal psychokinesis extrapolation incursion construes Aura auspicious primitive prism processional reviews Obstinate tenacious preeminent edificatory omnipotence eschews Equivocal gumption ratification constitutional manumission ensues      Delusory apparition extravagance peccavi verity tempestuous Obtrusive obtusely overt indemnities sagaciously obliquitous Ephemeral anxiety antonym existential exigency alacritous Fortuitous emendation phantasm ontological ontogeny acuitous Indemnify veracious infernal infidel impunities iniquitous Meritorious fulham presumptive extrication expiation indigenous
0
Oct 12, 2017
Oct 12, 2017 at 9:10 AM UTC
Anonymity Emanations (re-post)
cat-eyed passion lurking in the tall grass all ears for years but I knew... Caught a whiff early on and she still stayed hidden teasing and teasing looking for the right time such alien patience and dedication equal only to madness
0
Oct 22, 2018
Oct 22, 2018 at 7:59 AM UTC
Incognito
My body Is not obscene. It is not something That needs to be hidden, Brought out only in the dark of bedrooms, And showers, And alleyways, And incognito mode. My body Is not for sale, Not a commodity, though if I chose to sell it for money you'd ridicule me-- Deep down you love it, don't you? The fine you pay for fine curves and no promises. Those desperate nights you need something to come into. Is that what we are?-- Somethings? And no sooner exchange the dollar for a dance than sweettalk for *** And I could do the same to you, too-- I am not excused. Not that you know that. We all pretend I can't... Just a prize to be won? I'm not anyone! Come on, try to take me... And when you do, oh-oh-oh! Congratulations! Lucky you! You got me. Success Sweet success. I have desires too, But they don't matter-- If I want to **** him, he's the one who won Because females don't desire. And being trans? Genderqueer? Androgyne? Hell, that doesn't exist! What a load of **** And I smile now, because I don't remember how to cry. I am not allowed to desire, And if I do, and I reach what I want, Then I am a **** Worthless. Trash. But were I a "real" man, I would be a winner for it. Anger has lived in me. Jealousy has made my bones its home. I am not allowed to exist. I am not allowed to want. I am not allowed to sin. I am not allowed to be. I am a second, a lower form. Collateral-- And I'm yours. Why do you worship my body and yet disrespect it? And disrespect me? I cannot exist. Kiss me just to shut me up---- I'm tired of pretending to be human in a world that won't let me be. I quit. You complain that I complain. But sexism pervades every moment of my life: I am constantly fighting it; Each kiss, every **** My schooling, my career, Everyday conversations, All of my relations to other people, no matter which kind, Each time I shower, Get dressed, Exercise, Turn on the TV, Go out to the pool or a hotel or on a walk, Sexism is there to hold my hand. It is with me. I've never had an ally so loyal. It wouldn't dare leave my side. Would I dare? To leave it behind? Would you? Could we join hands, Across genders, Across sexes, Form a new alliance? One that helps me feel safe in my own body, My own mind, My own home? That gives other women and other afabs a chance to be seen as more than just bodies? Will there be a day when I can stand beside an amab, both our chests bare, and be seen as equal? Will there be a day when you will see me as my gender? And will there be a day that you will finally see a trans woman as more of a woman than me? We may be females. Biologically or mentally-- But that does not define us. We define us. This is My Body. It is not me, but it is mine. It will never belong to anyone else. My Body.
0
Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 5:07 PM UTC
My Body
My body Is not obscene. It is not something That needs to be hidden, Brought out only in the dark of bedrooms, And showers, And alleyways, And incognito mode. My body Is not for sale, Not a commodity, though if I chose to sell it for money you'd ridicule me-- Deep down you love it, don't you? The fine you pay for fine curves and no promises. Those desperate nights you need something to come into. Is that what we are?-- Somethings? And no sooner exchange the dollar for a dance than sweettalk for *** And I could do the same to you, too-- I am not excused. Not that you know that. We all pretend I can't... Just a prize to be won? I'm not anyone! Come on, try to take me... And when you do, oh-oh-oh! Congratulations! Lucky you! You got me. Success Sweet success. I have desires too, But they don't matter-- If I want to **** him, he's the one who won Because females don't desire. And being trans? Genderqueer? Androgyne? Hell, that doesn't exist! What a load of **** And I smile now, because I don't remember how to cry. I am not allowed to desire, And if I do, and I reach what I want, Then I am a **** Worthless. Trash. But were I a "real" man, I would be a winner for it. Anger has lived in me. Jealousy has made my bones its home. I am not allowed to exist. I am not allowed to want. I am not allowed to sin. I am not allowed to be. I am a second, a lower form. Collateral-- And I'm yours. Why do you worship my body and yet disrespect it? And disrespect me? I cannot exist. Kiss me just to shut me up---- I'm tired of pretending to be human in a world that won't let me be. I quit. You complain that I complain. But sexism pervades every moment of my life: I am constantly fighting it; Each kiss, every **** My schooling, my career, Everyday conversations, All of my relations to other people, no matter which kind, Each time I shower, Get dressed, Exercise, Turn on the TV, Go out to the pool or a hotel or on a walk, Sexism is there to hold my hand. It is with me. I've never had an ally so loyal. It wouldn't dare leave my side. Would I dare? To leave it behind? Would you? Could we join hands, Across genders, Across sexes, Form a new alliance? One that helps me feel safe in my own body, My own mind, My own home? That gives other women and other afabs a chance to be seen as more than just bodies? Will there be a day when I can stand beside an amab, both our chests bare, and be seen as equal? Will there be a day when you will see me as my gender? And will there be a day that you will finally see a trans woman as more of a woman than me? We may be females. Biologically or mentally-- But that does not define us. We define us. This is My Body. It is not me, but it is mine. It will never belong to anyone else. My Body.
Continue reading...
98
Sleepless nights Somebody turn around Starts a fight He wonders if his demons would shed some light on who he is supposed to be An incognito face filled to the brim with a mixture of shame and disgrace No white silky lace to tie his memories together You will only find darkness here "Enter if you dare" they said And so she stepped in. An untainted soul into the mind of a savage.
0
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 12:56 AM UTC
The savage
114 Good night, because we must, How intricate the dust! I would go, to know! Oh incognito! Saucy, Saucy Seraph To elude me so! Father! they won’t tell me, Won’t you tell them to?
0
2k
Good night, because we must
**Clandestine lover, tiptoeing to my pad, like coy moon in the cover of darkness, still think you are smart, an expert in sneaking in incognito? your beau monde elegance and coiffure- that never escapes attention, marks you different; in a state of sweet alert, the neighborhood waits, when your fragrance wafts announcing arrival.**
0
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 8:28 AM UTC
Your elegance, speaks French
He burnt away my eyes, he said it would make it much easier, to beg, so I traded it for fear. I was a little above five, wandering, on streets a motley of black, may be not, but my eyes couldn't distinguish the lack. People would throw coins into my glass, burnt eyes led to anticipated pitying, towards the miniaturised cauldron of the dire I lived in. I went to my master’s garage during my perceived evenings, my hands felt the swerves of cars and formed shapes in my mind, and before I departed, I would leave my glass behind. Blitzed, he would hit me at times I didn’t collect enough, I wouldn’t run away, the known seemed less horryifying, than to trip against invisible, in the trying. I survived each day, stayed thankful for life, unfair as it may seem, my other senses were in poise, and I learnt to see through reflections of noise. He took away my eyes, my dreams stayed invincible, so I left into a world, incognito, my master waited for me that night, never to discover though. I couldn’t steal, so I continued to beg, I hitchhiked to stores, for a loaf of bread, but God resolved to bless me with a stranger, instead. He put me to work, for food and shelter, little did I know my pay was in kind, the kind was love, against everything left behind. Sometimes he read to me, stories with happy endings, he bid me goodnight before he would move on, a word I recently learnt, to not be an oxymoron. He taught me to read in braille, being blind is no excuse he adjudged to me, he couldn’t return my sight, so a vision he gave me. Every night I cried myself to sleep, for the choking in my throat helped me to believe, believe in my angel disguised, so I cried myself to sleep. He gave me fortitude against the vice, he gave me words, and the power it imbibed, and he taught me to live, when I just survived.
0
Jul 21, 2012
Jul 21, 2012 at 12:39 PM UTC
Unsighted
He burnt away my eyes, he said it would make it much easier, to beg, so I traded it for fear. I was a little above five, wandering, on streets a motley of black, may be not, but my eyes couldn't distinguish the lack. People would throw coins into my glass, burnt eyes led to anticipated pitying, towards the miniaturised cauldron of the dire I lived in. I went to my master’s garage during my perceived evenings, my hands felt the swerves of cars and formed shapes in my mind, and before I departed, I would leave my glass behind. Blitzed, he would hit me at times I didn’t collect enough, I wouldn’t run away, the known seemed less horryifying, than to trip against invisible, in the trying. I survived each day, stayed thankful for life, unfair as it may seem, my other senses were in poise, and I learnt to see through reflections of noise. He took away my eyes, my dreams stayed invincible, so I left into a world, incognito, my master waited for me that night, never to discover though. I couldn’t steal, so I continued to beg, I hitchhiked to stores, for a loaf of bread, but God resolved to bless me with a stranger, instead. He put me to work, for food and shelter, little did I know my pay was in kind, the kind was love, against everything left behind. Sometimes he read to me, stories with happy endings, he bid me goodnight before he would move on, a word I recently learnt, to not be an oxymoron. He taught me to read in braille, being blind is no excuse he adjudged to me, he couldn’t return my sight, so a vision he gave me. Every night I cried myself to sleep, for the choking in my throat helped me to believe, believe in my angel disguised, so I cried myself to sleep. He gave me fortitude against the vice, he gave me words, and the power it imbibed, and he taught me to live, when I just survived.
Continue reading...
39
I’m supposed to be strong for everyone including you. But whose supposed to be strong for me? Guess I don’t need anyone’s help. I cry but incognito, can’t allow anyone to see these tears. I’ll wipe them away myself. Push it to the back of my mind, all the way in the rear. I’m afraid to share my emotions so I numb it all away, cage my depression, bury my fears. Can’t trust anyone cuz one day they’ll be gone, they leave as they usually do, I tell myself I can’t be mad. So sometimes I leave them before they leave me, Every man for himself right? I learned that from my dad. My biological..... wherever he is in this reality I’m on my own. A solitary mentality The abnormal normality
0
Oct 7, 2018
Oct 7, 2018 at 2:42 AM UTC
Mentality
Frigid winds inhabit where warm sunshine once glowed.... A fox decides to eat the hen that loves him She didn't know.... Couldn't smell the stench of a predator Didn't recognize it disguised as it was, incognito. Only yearning now to lend you substance but you sacrifice my gift to your libido Invisible to your naked eye her filth drags you to a place I will not go Your mouth speaks beautiful butterflies and your actions, hideous toads Through streaming tears you seem far away Though it hurts I give you freedom Still....it is hard to let you go....
0
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 1:14 AM UTC
The Deceiving
I can feel the changes You are my addiction I used to think you're a dentist You give me some kind of filling I blame the way that we living That has my feet on the edge Nicknamed your love Wels Fargo How I was putting in check My friends would talk and say you weren't loyal and give it a rest But you impress me No need for yelling You handle the stress You used to handle a tech When you were so out of place Initials double H So that means double hate But all the fellas who've seen you Knows that you keep a reliever You've seen more L's than the bobcats arena You keep it incognito But you're far from a bully When it comes to ink you're a monster Mike wazowski and sully You're a diamond in the rough You have a special shine There is no competition You're the hottest thing out Them others may claim you But they know that you're mine Girl I'd Jehovah witness for you I'm out here knocking doors down
0
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 9:20 PM UTC
Addiction
Like the V shaped pattern of wake lines behind a boat the angle between us has stretched out far The two arms of a chevron have been forced to let go and I dream of the vertex all of the time When you are not the woman of anyone’s dreams Fridays become best for cleaning and folding clothes from three months ago They become best for dreaming incognito of serving a man’s conscience in bed for breakfast It is the type of silence that has carved the ****** back into my body It’s left the fingers searching for what stifles the neck I comfort my ******* pressing hard on the button below the belly Until I am a sour fox without blood And what good is that rug than to wipe your feet on Stationary I’m dead and Swaying like a rocking chair in my bed And for the love of god, I cannot soothe the cry after I ******
0
Feb 1, 2019
Feb 1, 2019 at 7:03 PM UTC
Cry after ******
This just in A new trend is sweeping the nation It’s called “Being an *** to anyone who is different” And apparently, you have just joined the band wagon. It’s simple really. Find the most interesting person in the room And make fun of them. Simple as that! For the low price of eventually losing all your friends but who knows how you could turn out. Side effects include; Making someones life miserable, Making them want to end their own life, Becoming a senseless monster someone you were pressured into becoming How would your parents feel, if they found out what you have been doing? If they found out you torment kids day and night For what reason? To get a good laugh with your pals? To show you have guts? now, we are the victim. Sure, we all know “they only pick on you because they are insecure with themselves” line, but do you really believe that? When so many people just target you. Only you, and you still want me believe that they are all insecure? Suicide, Lets take a journey through that word, shall we? S....U....I The first three letters. The S starts off when all you can think about is how much you life... ***** The U comes when you think everything is your fault the I is when all else fails, innocence takes the wheel. The next four, C....I.....D....E C appears when you commit, You commit to depression, and it’s stuck with you now. I, the pain is incognito D, you are officially... done. E, the everlasting, never ending loss of your life. If you listen closely, you can hear the soft weeps of your mind wanting to take control Like when you’re at the park And you can hear the little 5 year old girls fighting with the other girls about who is the boss of whatever they’re doing at the time. Your brain, is a 5 year old girl wanting to become the boss, Depression is that other little girl who is bigger and snobbier than the others And always takes control. Your mind, is that little girl who wants to take charge, but is overran by the controlling little mean girl. The snob. The meanie. She owns you, but you have to break the ownership and take over your own mind. Inhale, exhale. Eat some chocolate. (cause chocolate makes things better, its a comfort food) and watch some spongebob just so you can get your mind off the hell that is reality. Take a breath, 
It’ll be alright..... Everything will be okay...
0
Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 10:31 PM UTC
Take A Breath
This just in A new trend is sweeping the nation It’s called “Being an *** to anyone who is different” And apparently, you have just joined the band wagon. It’s simple really. Find the most interesting person in the room And make fun of them. Simple as that! For the low price of eventually losing all your friends but who knows how you could turn out. Side effects include; Making someones life miserable, Making them want to end their own life, Becoming a senseless monster someone you were pressured into becoming How would your parents feel, if they found out what you have been doing? If they found out you torment kids day and night For what reason? To get a good laugh with your pals? To show you have guts? now, we are the victim. Sure, we all know “they only pick on you because they are insecure with themselves” line, but do you really believe that? When so many people just target you. Only you, and you still want me believe that they are all insecure? Suicide, Lets take a journey through that word, shall we? S....U....I The first three letters. The S starts off when all you can think about is how much you life... ***** The U comes when you think everything is your fault the I is when all else fails, innocence takes the wheel. The next four, C....I.....D....E C appears when you commit, You commit to depression, and it’s stuck with you now. I, the pain is incognito D, you are officially... done. E, the everlasting, never ending loss of your life. If you listen closely, you can hear the soft weeps of your mind wanting to take control Like when you’re at the park And you can hear the little 5 year old girls fighting with the other girls about who is the boss of whatever they’re doing at the time. Your brain, is a 5 year old girl wanting to become the boss, Depression is that other little girl who is bigger and snobbier than the others And always takes control. Your mind, is that little girl who wants to take charge, but is overran by the controlling little mean girl. The snob. The meanie. She owns you, but you have to break the ownership and take over your own mind. Inhale, exhale. Eat some chocolate. (cause chocolate makes things better, its a comfort food) and watch some spongebob just so you can get your mind off the hell that is reality. Take a breath, 
It’ll be alright..... Everything will be okay...
Continue reading...
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the most difficult words to say are those that lie in that unexplored space between the said and the unsaid that which was spoken was understood furthermore you did divine much of that which wasn’t but there are some salient sentiments that begin somewhere in the depths of myself traverse the tricky path to my lips and die there incognito - Vijayalakshmi Harish 27.01.2013 Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 8:44 AM UTC
Lost Words
I'm on one Been trapped in a buzz for four or six months Since that I've pulled a few stunts My mind, opposite judgement of a nun's So I tend to act rugged when it comes I'm on one Zapped down by these side effects Trapped now, take benzos to alleviate More and more as the effects depreciate Good for a few hours But I need to finish this report, so I give myself powers Amphetamines by all means I had a dream once, but now I cant sleep Don't use guns, to do this damage to myself Going through funds to do this damage to myself I'm on one Is it worth it in the long run? I've Seen what happens and it isn't fun But how can I do this job without them Be out of water, desperate as a trout, man Aches and pains I think I have the gout man Take pain killers, the real brain killers I'm on one Tipping over while typing these words Tripping over how I got this net worth Incognito, reputation with the best first Wish I could reveal, but I'd have no appeal They'd think I went bananas See I no longer have the fun that I had before hand Gleam in the Rover like the sweat against my forehead Blasting AC on max, thinking about paying tax But I already am, my kidneys show the facts Because I'm on one
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Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 1:49 AM UTC
On One
I could tell whoopers and get you in trouble or take a lover and run off to Europe, Asia or Africa where you, mom and gold digger can't find me. Got some nibbles on the net when I placed an ad seeking someone to take me away from this miserable existence I call my no fairy tale life. I could travel incognito and wear a Burqa in a far off place where you can't come unless you leave ***** at home wearing shorts up to her parts that are half covered by tight and short teenager clothes she still wears to keep you from looking at all the ladies on facebook you still friend and chat with behind her back. That would make your gold digging ****** if she knew what you did when she wasn't logged to facebook. She thinks she got you tied to her for eternity and for ever more. Look at me and mom evil ***** He was mom's and now you think he's yours. I'm glad I'm 18 and can live where ever I want. I found a way to get out of the country when I get my passport I ordered in a few weeks. It will be bye bye dad, ***** and baby sibling I dad never told me about forever. BUT, I think I will miss my mother even if she is dumb and believed her life was a fairy tale then she found out dad the freaking loser was cheating.
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Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 8:34 AM UTC
I could lie about it dad