"jerked" poems
it is funny, you will be dead some day.
By you the mouth hair eyes,and i mean
the unique and nervously obscene
need;it’s funny. They will all be dead
knead of lustfulhunched deeplytoplay
lips and stare the gross fuzzy-pash
—dead—and the dark gold delicately smash….
grass,and the stars,of my shoulder in stead.
It is a funny,thing. And you will be
and i and all the days and nights that matter
knocked by sun moon jabbed ****** with ecstasy
….tremble (not knowing how much better
than me will you like the rain’s face and
the rich improbable hands of the Wind)
69.5k
i was considering how
within night’s loose
sack a star’s
nibbling in-
fin
-i-
tes-
i
-mal-
ly devours
darkness the
hungry star
which
will e
-ven
tu-
al
-ly jiggle
the bait of
dawn and be ******
into
eternity. when over my head a
shooting
star
Bur s
(t
into a stale shriek
like an alarm-clock)
13k
Look in the mirror. Let us both look.
Here is my naked body.
Apparently you like it,
I have no reason to.
Who bound us, me and my body?
Why must I die
together with it?
I have the right to know where the borderline
between us is drawn.
Where am I, I, I myself.
Belly, am I in the belly? In the intestines?
In the hollow of the *** In a toe?
Apparently in the brain. I do not see it.
Take my brain out of my skull. I have the right
to see myself. Don’t laugh.
That’s macabre, you say.
It’s not me who made
my body.
I wear the used rags of my family,
an alien brain, fruit of chance, hair
after my grandmother, the nose
glued together from a few dead noses.
What do I have in common with all that?
What do I have in common with you, who like
my knee, what is my knee to me?
Surely
I would have chosen a different model.
I will leave both of you here,
my knee and you.
Don’t make a wry face, I will leave you all my body
to play with.
And I will go.
There is no place for me here,
in this blind darkness waiting for
corruption.
I will run out, I will race
away from myself.
I will look for myself
running
like crazy
till my last breath.
One must hurry
before death comes. For by then
like a dog ****** by its chain
I will have to return
into this stridently suffering body.
To go through the last
most strident ceremony of the body.
Defeated by the body,
slowly annihilated because of the body
I will become kidney failure
or the gangrene of the large intestine.
And I will expire in shame.
And the universe will expire with me,
reduced as it is
to a kidney failure
and the gangrene of the large intestine.
12k
When you told me I was doing great for a woman my size, I passed you off and told myself that "compliment" had good intentions.
When you called me sweet cheeks I ignored you. A woman like me is used to men like you.
When you told me the stair master made my *** look bangin, I was both honored and appalled. My *** may be my greatest feature but ****** comments have their place and the gym is not one of them.
When you asked me for my number, you were rude, acting in a way in which no gentleman should act. I told you no. And I meant no.
When you called me a ***** loud enough for the whole gym to hear, you were only making yourself look bad.
When you came up and wrapped your arm around my shoulder and told me you were going to take me out for a good time on friday night, I was terrified and suddenly praying for a **** whistle.
When you insisted I promptly informed you I was lesbian, and to let you down gently, not my type.
When you called me a **** I took no offense, that word has become meaningless. Then you told me it must be a phase, that I just hadn't been with a man like you. That you could change me.
When you said "hop on this **** **** I was done with your games. I pushed you aside and when you ****** my shoulder back you were the one to end up with their *** on the ground.
Dear namless man at the gym,
When you said you could help me through my phase, you were wrong. Being gay is not my phase. Being straight was.
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 12:25 AM UTC
you’re supposed to be, be on my side
even when I’m wrong, and always when I’m right
but never were you there
fighting me at every turn acting like a mother,
never as my significant other
i can’t be with someone who treats me like I’m two
i guess thats what a baby face will get you
then it went too far, that long day in the car.
you picked a fight, i was not surprised
it just another day in paradise.
you ****** the wheel and pulled to side of the highway
all to reach over and place your hands around my neck. i tried to scream but the sound couldn’t escape.
i decided that day i could no longer be in this place with you
i can’t be with someone who treats me like I’m two
i guess thats what a baby face will get you
Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 1:20 AM UTC
.*i'm still an advocate of caesarean section... i believe in animal rights... it's just plain cruel exposing a European ****** to a pan-African phallus of a fetus head **** isn't it **** "technically"? **** me... forget the ******** **** the latex... the ****** ******* one pregnant women ************ and talking Freudian implosion will do.*
personally? i hardly think
******** **** is what men turn
to when excavating
***********
ever watched
pregnant
women
************
while filming themselves?!
ever watch pregnant women
film
themselves ************
ever?
in the beginning there
was the word,
and the word was god...
you hear the talking
of pregnant woman ************
**** me...
who the hell needs ******** ***
when you can **** off
to a pregnant woman...
jerking off, talking *****
paradoxes of Freud
about her yet to be born
son
watching her **********
who the hell needs
******** ****
just watch a pregnant woman **********
oath of god...
hand on my heart...
it doesn't actually encompass a
desire for intricacies of latex...
just a pregnant woman
************
*** mad... *** mad...
*** mad...
******* *** mad as hell...
Freud? pale as an uncooked
pancake dough...
the **** that comes out
from the mouth of a pregnant
woman ************
believe me...
i ****** off to one of them doing it
helpless.
nice try... thinking
a man would turn to ********
***********
can't turn to more ********
****
than a pregnant woman,
************
while talking, Oedipal,
*****
try... try, ******
try to bash that fact out
of existence!
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 10:49 PM UTC
i was looking at you
and thought it would be fun
to shoot you in the ***
and use a big gun
you shook your **** hips
and said do me in bed
you pursed your pretty lips
and said i like to be dead
how do you figure
i'll look good when i splatter
please pull the trigger
and watch my skull shatter
no not in the head
id rather shoot you in the belly
please, baby, i said
you know i love jelly
you prefer stench
to a hole in the skull
whats wrong with you
are you really that dull
ok lets compromise
a bullet in the ****
wow that will hurt
i will scream i will grunt
i'm getting the fits
i'm upset just a tad
i'll shoot off your ****
before i get mad
alright honey
let's make it fun
ill open my legs
you shoot the big gun
i shot her once
she ****** my ****
i did her again
she went into shock
i'm not dead yet
but i'm starting to fry
whew i am really wet
but when will i die
soon darlin
do you think you can ***
i'm tryin hard love
but i'm gettin pretty numb
i shot her and shot her
she spassed and she lurked
i cumed in her mouth
then she died when she ******
i kissed her good by
she was **** to die
i ****** her some more
and went to the shore
now she's dead
i'm in a bad mood
layen in bed
i'm starting to brood
two days later
i met someone new
she said i like guns
what about you?
i walked outside
i started to cry
she kissed my mouth
and said im ready to die
i fell on the ground
ready to scream
what a merry go round
what a ***** dream :)
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 5:26 PM UTC
In my room alone,
I lay naked on my bed,
Magazines and videos - laid out nicely,
Not Andrex but Kleenex there instead,
I flick through the pages,
Holding on so tight,
While on the screen there's stuff obscene,
Ejoying this pleasing sight,
Up and down i gently rub,
'Til my head rolls back in bliss,
Faster, faster then i'll stroke,
Thinking of that kiss.
Wishing i were the one up there,
Getting ****** off by a pro,
Instead of spread eagle on my back,
I'd rather be getting a blow,
To have my **** ****** off by her,
The one with shaven lips,
To pull her close and enjoy the roast,
Driving at her hips,
Oh but alone i am with **** in hand,
Wanking myself to sleep,
But i know when i close my eyes,
The visions of you i'll keep.
So for now, content am i,
Playing with my ****
Shooting out my *** in streams,
And tasting it til i'm sick,
I wish that you were back here with me,
To give me such a treat,
Then on my kness, for you i'd go,
And surely find something to eat,
But i'm stuck with magazines and videos,
Of ladies eating out,
So that's my tale for all to see,
What wanking's all about.
Aug 27, 2012
Aug 27, 2012 at 2:30 PM UTC
The man to my right was more than eight feet away. I was going to have to move closer to him to catch my limit of four trout. I halved the distance between the two of us and noted the sideways glance he shot me. I apologized immediately and asked if I was crowding him.
“No, you fine,” he replied within a thick Serbian accent.
“You’re with them?” I asked, pointing to the crowd of people on the bridge some 30 feet upstream from us. I had heard the crowd of eastern Europeans talking earlier, and their accents were unmistakable to me. He nodded and we continued fishing.
With my new angle I was better able to pick my fish in the water, so that’s what I did. I spied one and tossed my jig toward him. It took five casts but eventually, he took the bait. As I netted it in the swift, ice-cold spring water the man beside me congratulated me on the catch. I thanked him and added it to my stringer. This made three, and I only needed one more.
“What’s your name?” I asked him.
“Ivan”.
“Have you been in the states long?” I asked, after the pause following his short reply seemed to invite more questions.
“Since ‘96, my family live here. It is good.”
“You like living here?” I wondered aloud.
“Yes, the fishing is good. It is like back home in Serbia, or in Germany. We have this fishing there.”
“You mean trout?”
“Yes, trout...and some other fish like these, in water like this, but I can’t go home now.” He looked away momentarily. His lips pursed, and his brow furrowed. I pulled my line in, wanting to ask him more and not wanting to be distracted.
“Were you in the war?”
“Yes, I was in the Serbian police force.” My heart pounded. “When I was in the Serbian police force, we did what you see on the news. We went into villages and we killed them. We killed them all.”
I cast my line back into the water, spying another trout. Ivan shrugged and cast his own line. I couldn’t tell what he was using but it looked like cheese of some kind. “I was drafted in Serb police when I was 15. I had no choice. If I refuse, they **** me. I did what I had to do.” I nodded, and ****** my line, missing a fish. “Before the war, I fished. After the war, there were not so many people, so fishing was very good.”
The air around me was alive. The trees were greener, the water was colder and clearer, the sun was brighter, and the sky was bluer.
“I’ve been fishing for a long time as well,” I responded. My father used to bring me here as a child. He nodded and continued.
“After the war, all the fish come back, no one fished during the war, so there were many of them. You just had to be careful of the mines.” He grunted and gazed skyward.
“The mines?”
“Yes, during the war they mined the water.”
I watched trout number four take my jig and I carefully reeled him in. Ivan congratulated me a second time, and I thanked him in return.
“You’re a good fisherman,” he said turning back to his own pursuit of the four-trout limit, as I left the water to clean my catch.
Sep 21, 2019
Sep 21, 2019 at 8:33 PM UTC
Every thanksgiving,
My family gets smaller.
Gone to college. Gone traveling. Gone to another woman. Gone to Florida. Gone to prison.
Gone to see the lord.
Funerals are how
I visit the lord. God is drawn to eulogies.
He’s there, a fixture,
almost a cliche,
like a great aunt with a black veil
weeping into a floral
handkerchief.
Today, at this funeral,
a thin layer of snow and ice
has frozen the ground.
Black dress shoes
press ridged footprints into the
snow.
Every funeral I’ve ever
been to has been cold. Dress
clothes and peacoats
aren’t thick enough to keep
me warm during a funeral.
I keep my hands in my pockets and hunch forward,
watching my breath hit the winter wind.
The winter wind is
an evaporated sadness, like god.
During thanksgiving, the gravy boat
on the counter
let off hot, thin steam. While pouring it thick
on my potatoes,
A shadow in the corner of the room caught my eye.
The days after a funeral are
filled with a confused, hopeful mysticism. Every moving shadow,
every unexplained noise
is a visitation.
So I ****** my head towards the corner of the room. Nothing.
Glancing back at the table,
I look at his empty seat, reminded
how much I’m him. I’m quiet, like he was.
I
laugh like he laughed.
My teeth are as bad as his were.
I drink like he did when he was
my age,
days, nights at a time, stumbling home from dark pubs,
watching, with blurred vision,
my whisky breath hit the winter wind,
and evaporate, almost as fast as God.
After the turkey and the pie and the coffee,
I go down to the basement
and I pour myself a stiff
*** and coke.
I drink, in silence, to the gone.
Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 6:13 PM UTC
he said he just ******
off on its leg, but I think
Steve ****** Bullock's horse
Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 9:44 PM UTC
*come with me
to the ****** motel
it could be so tender
as **** as hell
we can kiss awhile
i'd lick you sweet
and then bend you over
and cut your feet
*** honey
you can't walk anymore
no matter darling
i'm a blood **** *****
**** me daddy
soon i'll be dead
i want it in the mouth
crush my head
not so soon
my sweet little ******
first lose some blood
to get you all woozy
stand on the toilet
a rope around you neck
on tippy toes
you'll soon be a wreck
i'd love to shoot you
want it in the ***
in the intestine
the bullet will pass
ooow honey yes
let me spread wide
then shoot me through
is that how i died
no baby
that was just for fun
i cumed in your ***
my **** was the gun
oh **** me soon
you begged and you cried
i need it my love
so your hands i tied
i ****** you and ****** you
ready to ***
i yanked your head back
and you licked up my ****
are you ready sweet girl
you lifted your head
my **** in your ***
a dagger of dread
i slit your throat
ever so slow
you ****** and you shimmied
and the blood did flow
you got on top
your **** in my face
i drank from your throat
you bled out with grace
i loved you so
and called your name
you fell over dead
but who's to blame
oh my darling
you wanted to go
black emerald death
an ******** show
pretty dead girl
im still kissing you
but i have to leave
boo hoo hoo*
Jun 17, 2017
Jun 17, 2017 at 2:55 PM UTC
He came back home, crashed on his bed. He then took his tie off and inhaled deeply. What a tiring day it was! He closed his eyes to drift off to a peaceful place when he was pulled back by the crying of his baby. The baby cried and cried as if he was screaming, struggling for his life. The man rushed into the next bedroom and found his wife curled up on the bed.
"What happened? Where is my child? Why was he crying so much?" The man looked around but could not find any clue of the child. He turned and ****** his wife, "Where the hell is my baby?", he screamed in her face but she did not open her eyes.
Her lifeless body slipped from his hands like sand and fell on the ground near the bottle of pills. Like the dead, he too collapsed on the floor.
The baby had stopped crying, he had finally met his parents.
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 4:02 PM UTC
I FEEL LIKE I'M GOING INSANE. GETTING ****** AROUND LIKE A PUPPET THAT HAS NO WAY OR PATH.
I lay awake with nothing but scatter minded thoughts. I feel like I don't know where to go with no sence of direction.
It's 2 am and I'm still not asleep my mind had full controll as I just get dragged along.
I feel like screaming but I will only makescape people think I'm a psychotic bipolar monster.
I have no way out trapedal in a glass prisom that is unbreakable suffocating with no sleep just going loopy.
I lost my fear with abusing energy drinks.
I'm not insaine I'm not insaine I'm not insaine.
Every thought every word I'm lost with now direction.
Only knowing I'm going to loseither control and crash and burn.
I'm lost scatter minded and I'm bipolar and I can't escape being feeling like a puppet being played by the evil sensation
Of bipolar disorder scatter minded
Feb 3, 2017
Feb 3, 2017 at 11:45 PM UTC
He was up late again, reading one of his many comic books, when he heard the usual scratching at the back porch. So engrossed in his title, the youth ****** from his chair and crept toward the window. A band of large masked creatures scurried off into the gloomy, moonless night. The boy thew on his coat and grabbed a flashlight and camera as he headed out onto the back porch. He glanced at one of the raccoons just as he scampered into the gigantic black berry bush below his field. The boy decided to take a closer look. He started to move toward the giant bush below his field when he suddenly tripped over something on the ground. As he across to his feet, he noticed a small door covered with branches and dirt. He brushed away the ******* and stared at the small door in the ground. With out much thought, he put his shacking hand to the handle and slowly opened the door. Hundreds of tiny stairs led their way to a huge room, miles wide and long, but only about four feet high. The room was quiet, he was about to scream when he heard the same scratching noise that was at his back porch, only this sound was louder. The boy slowly turned. His heart pounding in his chest; his body like steel iron. Then, a sudden hush goes over the whole room. He opened his eyes to meet a four foot raccoon staring at him. The animal lifted his head to the boy and whispered, "tag, your it!"
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 11:33 AM UTC
“instructions on how to destroy yourself from the ground up, and vice versa”
i say i think i am a better ghost-- and she says, *dont be so cliche
this isnt a fairytale, this isnt Wonderland*
, but i was born shoving the barrel of a gun down my throat like it was someone else’s tongue
and after a while they start to taste the same
less like a herald and more like sour lips curling around a sentence over and over “nobody exists anymore
welcome to the Forgotten era--”
swallowing glass just so my throat wont feel so empty
when she kisses me she says shes sorry
when she says my name it sounds like a swearword, like her mouth is too brittle to sound it out right
“instructions on how to build the perfect barricade”, start with enough wood to burn yourself to the ground
start over. start over. start over.
(seventeen crumpled dollars and a neon sign that says WELCOME TO PARADIS, comical in a way that makes a nine year old on a too-small bike start crying)
We Need To Talk / cutting your bangs uneven with a pair of scissors you found in an abandoned building / LACHRYMAL: CONNECTED WITH WEEPING OR TEARS
“instructions on how to change the way your name sounds”
i bleed empty promises,call people in the middle of the night just to say that I’m Fine
(i dont even remember the last time i ****** awake coughing up consonants, trying to
rebuild myself, i swear!)
she says my name right and it’s a tuesday. there are guns on a basement wall twenty miles away
, and it’s raining outside
, and she tells me she likes the way it sounds
(she swallows it whole)
Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 9:08 PM UTC
When the moon light shown, on the lake deep blue
You stood next to me on a bridge admiring the hue
I wondered then if this was a dream,
For making you mine was a fantasy.
The twinkling of stars decorated the sky
Looking into your eyes, it had a divine shine
You held my hand as we walked down slow,
I wanted to dance like a floating boat.
We stepped on the grass that was sprinkled with rain
Monsoon was here, the best time of the year.
We sat by the lake, your reflection so clear.
Like a teenage boy, you smiled and blushed.
Dear Lord, I had an adrenaline rush!
You pulled out a ring that smiled with glee,
And you said “Will you marry me?”
A shiver down my spine, my heart beating fast,
My skin stood up, and I blushed!
My hand felt cold and froze like ice.
I was floating like a feather, on cloud 9
You waited for me, with curious eyes.
Would she say yes? Or simply smile?
I took a deep breath and was ready to reply…
When “THHUUUD”! The door open wide.
I ****** and turned my head to see…
You walked down the street with utmost speed.
I sadly sighed and watched you go,
Wondering what it would be like, to walk beside you…
Very slow…
Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 5:30 AM UTC
Assaulted once again,
Betrayed by the ones she loved,
Consumed with utter sadness,
Dehumanized in every way.
Embarrassed by what they made her do,
Fearful that there's more to come,
Heartbroken and humiliated,
Inadequate in all she does.
****** around with such great force,
Kept quiet with threats of death,
Laughed at as she cries in pain,
Mistreated and manipulated
One broken heart left on display.
Pain they left within their wake,
Robbed of all her happiness,
Scared to trust again.
Trapped within their shadow,
Uncertain of my fate,
Victimized for the final time,
Worthless mindset overcome.
X'd out all the lies you told me,
Yearning for all that I deserve,
Zeroed out of my heart forever, as I take my final stand and finally leave today.
Nov 16, 2012
Nov 16, 2012 at 12:39 AM UTC
Grounded
root thrumming
spiral down Kundalini into rich darkness
the end is here
as is the beginning
I find I am Free
At Last
having grasped at the edge of reality
and lost my fingerhold before
I know what it is
to fall into madness
Here
here in this soul music
I find I am hovering instead
my breathing steady and cool
my muscles warm and limber
the fatigue passes
I float
I am pulled and ******
allowing each note and beat
to guide my body
my mind is elsewhere
I am entranced
-
I detach
from time and space
my breath and touch show cold
yet I am on Fire
I see all the nonsense in front of me
and cut the ties
suspended within the music
I leave the edge of reality
my embedded fingerprints visible now
and continue to dance
I see all the ******** around me
and cut the ties
this is Not madness, it is true sanity
it is my arrival to Home
and I continue to Dance.
I see the confusion, pain and hurt within me
and cut the ties
insanity leads into pitch black nothingness
This leads me into infinite light
still, I dance.
-
pushing through the darkness
leaving the illusion of this world behind
I have come to the other side
there is no edge to fall from
there are no bindings of obligation
the chains have always been self-imposed
easily escapable
why did I not shed these long ago?
I am taken through lifetimes and back
I am ******
I am *****
I am Moon
I am Earth
I am the First Woman
and the Last
I Am One.
This all within my full mind, sober, unaltered
the answers are right in front of me
all I have to do is open my soul and see
for this I do my Cosmic Dance.
Sep 24, 2010
Sep 24, 2010 at 9:35 AM UTC
Love thou mind love and love
For,love is the binding Will of God.
Dip thy nib in live and gently draw
Draw sweet,sweet scenes around.
Honour blush as Ego's Pride
Upon thy cheeks flash rosy.
Body jerked,hinges shake,Oh! Lord!
As emotional volcanoes erupt lava of anger.
Creator interlace creatues to depend
Hence,repent on,own-made calamities.
Love! give and take as much as you need-
Only that much you need not be greedy.
Lust is rust of love a desert fruit.
Being deserted,I once ran and ran
Searching mirage of human- love
With Tsunamis in eyes 'nd feeble feet.
Love is not selfish lust:
It is candle light for service.
Light:brightening darkened corners
Shows us: all are creatures equal.
As we do violate the Nature's Laws
Laws of Nature will violate ours.
Walls will be demolished,Hills and valleys
Ploughed with thunder and quakes.
Love,thou, mind! love and love
For, Love is the binding Will of God.
Dec 22, 2011
Dec 22, 2011 at 10:47 PM UTC
I sat by the window side at the bus
And ate some chocolate cake with gusto
Headaches from last night's partying
And suddenly I dozed off while eating
How strange...
Someone tapped me on the shoulder
I ****** and opened up my eyes
And saw you with your gentle smile
My face with smudges of chocolate
How embarrassing...
You asked if the seat beside me was vacant
I nodded unable to speak for shame and fear
Of opening my mouth full with chocolate cake
Too conscious how my teeth would look like
How pathetic...
Side by side, hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder
Instantly felt the warmth of your smooth skin
You glanced at me and smiled again very slowly
My cheeks were blushing of my indecent thoughts
How pitiful...
You asked softly if where my destination was
I answered politely afraid of looking directly
Too distracted by the musky scent you have in you
I wanted to ask what perfume you were wearing
How awkward...
The journey was tediously long and I had hangover
We sat there for five hours in companionable silence
But my insides were screaming with excitement
By your mere presence, I felt I was safe and sound
How weird...
"Excuse me sir, may I pass?" I nudged you respectfully
Your eyes widened a little bit and nodded in silence
I got off the bus and stared as it continued on the road
Regretted that I never even dared to ask for your name
How hopeless...
Aug 13, 2016
Aug 13, 2016 at 11:56 PM UTC
Courtney’s old subaru stuttered and stalled as she sat at the red light. The large blue duffle bag sat ominously on the leather seat beside her. She couldn’t look at it.
God, Luci. Why did you get yourself into trouble? Courtney’s mind was racing. Ridiculous. This is ridiculous. She ****** her head to look at the bag. It was bulging.
The bag was stained and dusty, ripped along the seams in some places. Courtney’s phone rang loudly. She jumped, and held onto the steering wheel with one hand and answered.
“Hello?”She was silent as the voice on the other end talked quickly. “No, I’m not there yet... yes, I’ve got it.. No, I haven’t touched it... Yes, sir. She’s very sorry... I know, sir. Yes I’’ll tell her.” She hung up. Her face was ghost white, her palms and forehead sweaty.
Many voices argued in her head. I shouldn’t be doing this for her. She broke the law. But Luci’s your sister! That doesn’t matter. She caused the whole family a lot of pain and money. And now I’M breaking the law. What the hell?!
She looked back over at the duffle bag. It sat staring at her accusingly. She turned away. Her car was getting awfully hot, so she rolled down the windows, letting air flow through. Checking her watch, she hiccuped with surprise. Her foot slammed down on the gas, her head pressed against her seat from the quick acceleration. Her car’s enging groaned with the speed, but she couldn’t slow down.
********* Luci. I really hate you right now.*
Suddenly, she saw flashing lights and heard a sharp wailing sound behind her. A police car pulled right up behind her, speeding along, signaling for her to pull over to the shoulder of the road. Courtney’s eyes were wide with fright, and her palms were sweating profusely, leaving stains on her steering wheel. Oh god oh god oh god oh god...Ohhhh my goddddd.
Courtney slammed on her breaks, pulling over. A man in uniform knocked on her window, and she rolled it down slowly. There was a loud noise from the passenger seat and Coutney’s world slowed as she saw the duffle bag fall to the floor of the car, the zipper breaking and the contents spilling onto the carpeted floor.
The policeman’s face was horrorstruck.
“Ma’am...” He stuttered. “I’m going to have to ask you to...step out of the car and put..put your hands on your head.”
Jun 25, 2012
Jun 25, 2012 at 12:49 AM UTC
He made a gun out of his finger and thumb, and ****** his hand back as if representing the kickback of a pistol.
If it was just his hand then why did my white shoes become speckled red, and why did the light fleet from his eyes?
It's etched into my memory, the day it became more than a joke, the day it wasn't laughs that followed, but instead smoke.
The sick part is, I still have those shoes, they're sitting by my front door stained brown from dry blood.
I'm not sure why I kept them, maybe it's because that's all I have left of my brother.
Aug 10, 2016
Aug 10, 2016 at 1:39 AM UTC
Right food forward, left follows
Forth by the gravitational pull of his electric eyes
Like a magnetic force
Drawing me in, attracting me,
Influencing my strings, convincing me
I am still the puppeteer.
My hand slips away from the grasp of my rules
It has become busy
Tangled within bows and gift wrappings
First, my tongue.
It parts my lips, drools at the gleam of the sharp blade,
Then, communication falls.
Second, my ripe cherry of purity.
Naked. Peeled. Devoured.
Finally, the puppeteer demands
Take a sledge hammer to the wall.
Reveal the heart once and for all.
Tear it out. Gift wrap it.
Into the emptiness I plummet
Down into the bowel, through the stomach
****** awake by the sinking feeling
Empty room, all truth revealing
Right foot forward, left follows
Forth by the gravitational pull
left by his hollows
Body trapped in in the lingerings of his magnetic field
His electric gaze the portal
Storing the Love Comedy wielded in Horror
Tear out your heart. Gift wrap it.
Place it into his arms
Watch him drop it.
Mouth gaping. No tongue to speak.
Just eyes watching, from above to the side
Out of body out of my mind
I am the puppeteer who tore out my heart
Gift wrapped it with bows
Hypnotically placed it in his arms of doubt
He dropped it.
Severing me from the gravitational pull
Awakening me from my trance to witness
My heart there
Pulsating
Against the cold. Concrete. Floor.
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 9:32 PM UTC