"jazmine" poems
There’s a ***** in me.
A ***** that hides deep below.
But don’t try to **** me, kid.
Because that’s a ***** that you don’t want to know.
You think Jazmine Sullivan ****** your **** up, that’s nothing compared to me.
I’ll smash glass in your breakfast and make you drink bleach.
See how crazy she gets?
This ***** that hides away from the publics eye.
But not in private, no this crazy ***** will make you cry.
She’ll make you pant and moan
right before she breaks three of your bones
So go on and get gone, ‘for I release her early in the morn.
Don’t lie to me, our I’ll release the dragon from the lair.
Hurt me? I’ll hurt you tenfold and will not care.
Its not that I don’t love you, but you simply must pay.
Your lies have not gone unnoticed by my heart, and neither has the games you’ve played.
I’ll fight you to the death, gun or knife fight, its your choice.
But everything changes love, even my voice.
Once so sweet and angelic, becauses the demon’s tone.
So think twice before you pick up the phone.
And lie to me about who you’re with and where you been.
Be honest, because it will benefit you and I in the end.
Because this crazy ***** guards my heart.
And if you play with it well, I’ll allow her to rip you apart.
Sincerely, A sane female.
Jul 6, 2011
Jul 6, 2011 at 4:51 AM UTC
Remember when you wrote that poem for me?
titled " My poem for her "
It says...
" From the beginning of time,
I was destined to fashion these lines into this cute little rhyme.
So my feelings for you can shine
No longer can I act like a mime
I am for you, like red is for wine."
and after all these months i've realized that red isn't the only color for wine... and that's what tears me up on the inside...
yeah, I tried making you jealous by getting with someone... it worked on you when I was with Jazmine but it didn't work when I told you I was dating Madison..
Instead of you being jealous, I got jealous
because you said you were talking with someone and it got me upset... i'm sorry... I just can't stand it..
and I can't help the fact i'm still deeply in love with you even though you don't want me to
I just want you back... really, really bad
Sep 21, 2016
Sep 21, 2016 at 10:18 PM UTC
Well she's the lost little girl
With the deep blue eyes
With a current of sorrow
And an ocean of lies
Where she goes
No one knows
But me..
May 5, 2010
May 5, 2010 at 4:05 PM UTC
My ideal love is a love that catches me by surprise.
The realization of intelligent things and conversations that literally take us anywhere.
My ideal love is a love that expresses ideal.
The ramifications that influence us to be who we really are in front of who we are.
A love that doesn't mind bargin shopping and putting together hundred dollar outfits that really cost $10.
The reality that its the most simplest of things that are most significant.
A spontaneous love that doesn't mind the predictability of living today before exploring the mystery of tomorrow.
Here after the after thought that we exist in the past as well as the present simultaneously.
If ever in need I'll do my best to provide all that I can for an ideal love.
Through these actions I believe the true miracle is achieved.
An ideal love that is beyond ideal.
Who sets the where and how we meet, the institutions of bliss where the masses are limited to love and longing.
To find patience and compassion sitting on the front lawn on the same institution.
As long as she provides a kiss that can send me outside of my own thoughts, and pull me closer to hers.
My ideal love wouldn't be based on a B.E.T movie.
A single expression that summarizes a scorned woman letting go.
A cliff note of lust soon as the next sceen fades to black.
Her ******* pulled down not knowing the dude is secretly abusive.
140 minutes gone by to realize the last 5 mins were the ones that made her truly happy.
The woes of love.
My ideal love is a woman built with ambition but with a heart big enough to understand that without sacrifice nothing is truly accomplished.
A culture made in truth, ripped off by those who ignore that struggle is what makes us who we are.
The courage to walk out in front and be who we really are.
A real woman that doesn't mind lounging around the house that knows whom Budda and Huey Newton was.
This revolution of ideal starts the moment I realize that I never stood a chance.
The surprise of her lips against my cheek.
I drink from this remedy each time you open your lips.
So in silence I gasp.
As you caught me off guard,
My ideal love
Aug 6, 2017
Aug 6, 2017 at 9:15 PM UTC
She gave him life in the whim of passion.
Drawing lines of pleasure. All of her pain that she's felt over the years.
The very existence of all she's ever dreamed.
All in the hopes that he'd never do the same.
He and he alone would stand the test of time.
The portrayal of locking eyes, deep shades of gray.
Drawn and retraced.
A homesickness suffered from the gift of tender eyes.
She remembers the nights the rain wouldn't cease.
The creases her face made in grief.
In the end. All she had was the sketch pad that never left her side.
He alone took each tear and rested his head beside them.
Her sketch pad.
This vigorous sketch that stared off into the distance.
She screamed of warning to the oncoming flood.
The beads of blue that traced every drop of rain.
Blending bright and dark hues to the paper of her pad.
Wool combs of hair colored in, blending into the background.
She thought long and hard.
First filling his hands with roses then taking them away.
Deep marks left behind from a couple of flicks of her wrist.
An eroding eraser.
The blossoming of a new sketch, a tremble of thought.
The rain came back even harder.
More fierce the next sketch she made.
Paved and coated over and over again.
A fear that she would never become the recipient of all she's dreamed.
Someone that would love her for all that she keeps hidden.
She reacted to the woes of thunder and lightning.
A tear made deep then covered.
Resistant to all shes felt.
A deep pain struck against the burrow of her heart.
Every flower in the valley of her screamed in anguish to the water that continuously fell.
The valley becoming a gutter in front of the driveway she drew.
Blue and gray hues crosshatched across the page.
Surrounding him in the background.
Here he stood outside in the rain for hours in front of an empty house.
His heart replacing the roses that filled his hands.
Within the confines of her sketch pad she illustrated her best friend.
The best friend she's ever known.
Someone that she could trust.
Made her feel whole.
Here within the confines of her sketch pad.
she illustrated how he made her feel.
She drew breath into his lungs in true fear.
Knowing that somethings aren't meant to happen.
Of all things that she loved. She loved herself the most.
Promising that she would never feel this hurt again.
The torment of having something precious ripped away.
A homesickness suffered from the gift of tender eyes.
She remembers the nights the rain wouldn't cease.
The creases her face made in grief.
It was that night she made the promise never again.
She drew her best friend in a world.
Cold and alone.
All within the confines of her sketch pad.
Where she felt she could be herself.
Illustrating the exact way he made her feel
Dec 22, 2017
Dec 22, 2017 at 4:15 PM UTC
Here we go again . . .
December 31st 2021, sitting by the fire pit, surrounded by the dark clear sky of Utah. "This is the first time I truly feel happy. The first time I don't want to go to sleep and NOT wake up in the morning."
The next day my husky Nikko dies.
He was old, very old.
This year has been, not great.
First my rabbit Gizmo dies, a digestion issue.
Two months later my Chihuahua, Dexter dies.
He was old, congestive heart failure.
Four months later and Nikko passes.
One month later and now our last furry family member, Jazmine.
She has been diagnosed with congestive heart failure and is showing similar signs as Dexter did.
Did you know if you die all of your federal student loans
are discharged. That means no one has to pay them back. Lucky
me, I only have federal student loans. Sixty thousand dollars my husband and cosigners wouldn't have to worry about.
One week before Christmas break and I lost my job.
Nothing on me, just how things go I guess.
I'm still on great terms with my boss.
Student loan repayment plans starts up in February and I just lost my job.
What I am I going to do?
Whose lives would change if I just died?
I live across the country and don't talk to my family.
Nothing would change there.
We have virtual game nights, but I don't contribute to the
conversation. I usually just put my foot in my mouth.
Nothing would really change there.
My husbands family doesn't even like me.
They would probably be happy for their son to marry someone better. "Someone good for him".
My husband, oh how much I love him.
His life would change vastly. He would be sad for a little while but then he would move on. He could do everything he wanted. It was MY dream to move around the country. Not his. He could finally put roots down in the town we are living in or move back home to rekindle roots with old friends. He could do what ever he wants and not have to take my feelings into consideration, at all.
His life would change. He would be happier.
Dec 11, 2021
Dec 11, 2021 at 4:03 AM UTC