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"jif" poems
There is a snack size container of peanut butter sitting in the pantry And I'm sitting across the room but I can feel it's weight as acutely as my own I checked the package three times, hoping the numbers would change when i returned 282 282 282 calories I'm having a panic attack over a snack because the one thing I crave more than anything else in the world is the sticky, nutty taste of JIF brand peanut butter of which I am undeserving My grandmother loved peanut butter So much that they had to hide it from her if they wanted any hope of a satisfactory sandwich My mom hid food too Stole it like kiss after kiss Sneaking cookies from the houses where she babysat Getting crumbs on her swelling chest in the dark embrace of her teenage bedroom A buffet for one And now I'm in my grandmothers house Hoping that there's peanut butter in heaven Because here there's just photographs and the lingering scent of her Chanel number 5 perfume Like mother, like daughter, like granddaughter they say You can trace my family line as easily as the stretch marks that litter our bodies But I am breaking the cycle by falling into my own I have learned that hunger pangs are better than the climbing figures on the scale So I lift a glass of water to my lips And I leave the peanut butter in the pantry so no one will ever have to hide food from me
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Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 11:29 AM UTC
Peanut Butter
Upon a morning dreary I took a **** which left my ******* weary I wiped I flushed I exited the bathroom blushed Twelve hours passed Since that horrid **** left my *** And low and behold A smell flowed to my nose Just as a burning arose Underneath my ******* I knew too late the **** had stained The flesh, my taint tucked under my ******** train ONE WIPE WAS NOT ENOUGH... Pretty soon around six o'clock There came upon my door a knock knock knock And who was there? Who did I hear calling to my ears? It was the *** positive, gonarreah infested, scabies encrusted, syphilis ridden, transexual sex-kitten I had started a relationship with over Craig's List Now, listen children carefully to this... ***** tucked hisher's lips around hisher's teeth And began a ******* that could make the Hulk weak But it was over in a jif When ***** caught a wiff And that little sneak Took a pervy peak At the feces widely spread underneath ***** RAN AWAY CRYING I was laughing so hard I thought I was dying That pesky little poo Left on hisher bottom lip Made that entire bathroom trip FULLFILLING
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Oct 11, 2012
Oct 11, 2012 at 9:14 PM UTC
The **** Stuck Under My Sack
When night-time stalks, my dreams do come quick For the thoughts before dreams, deem me too sick As thoughts seem to ponder, and wonder what if My dreams can not wander, or stammer or sniff Off yonder you see, or catch just a whiff The dreams seem to plea, "We'll be back in a jif" "Fall in with me" they say, there will be no cliff For the dreams you shall see, will show you your if
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Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 8:28 PM UTC
Dreams
lovely, banal, ********** she smilingly slides the respectably slip transparent around the resistant pleasurable hips thighs riotous pulsing cleaved calves clever neatly witha3inchheel                                        sli n  g   s it into the hamper clicks her sway into the bathroom, plum-ripe lips juicy) saying (i'll be out in a jif, hon
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Mar 2, 2011
Mar 2, 2011 at 5:35 PM UTC
lovely, banal, **********
Default Setting I have changed my default setting To be impervious to love But the problem that I have Is that love fits like a glove It feels like second skin Underneath my own But the more I rub it off Is the more it is at home I’ve tried Jif and Brillo pads Rubbed till I’m really sore But no matter how I try Love comes back for more
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May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 1:43 PM UTC
Default Setting
To see the world in all its glory From every angle and every view Is very easily said by all-- Yet, much harder to do because of circumstances surrounding the career that I pursue. I must not take any chances; Not for me, not for you. Not for him, not for her, not even for God knows who. Not even for God, himself, at times, if I must be held to truth, but not by choice... for there's a Beast that blocks the exit to my room. I stare at it, and it looks back with eyes as cold as night. I try to speak but where's my voice? --whisked away by Fright. Now, pull yourself together, son. It's only A matter of time before the Beast awakens once again and opens up its eyes! But, have no fear, lay in the grass and slip into your state or swim some laps around Red Wine Sea; dive in Whiskey Lake and stumble away from the reality that it is all too late. You cannot run. You cannot hide. Your life is now at stake. 'Come out, come out, wherever you are!' To the beast it's all a joke. 'It'll be over in a jif', he says, 'you won't even feel a poke!' But I know this beast, just like myself, the jokes are how he copes. Weakness lurks beneath its flesh, Or at least that's what I hope and as I gaze upon the Beast I notice weakness in its throat. Do I use the knife? Do I use the rope? Either one shall **** us both.
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Apr 25, 2016
Apr 25, 2016 at 7:40 PM UTC
Onset