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Kiagen McGinnis Feb 2011
confession:
i
steal
things.

in my head:
money
does
not
exist.
it is
nothing
but
paper,
a system
that
only
screws
us
over.

my purse is full:
of
things
i
don't really
need
but
impulsively
take.
red
lipstick
and
a red
bra.

**** propriety
**** big white stores
**** cameras reminiscent of
Big Brother

i
find
a
dangerous
joy
in
the
ease
of
walking
away
unnoticed.
April Hapner Apr 2012
to run a mess of things
lies, ties, and unspeakable rings,
you cannot convince me
if you were a gypsy

spun so fine,
claiming things, unknown klepto,
funny, thought i would never know?
unlike you, though... i did let go.

in dance
a rebounded, but failed, fanned romance,
a verbal tribute
to bounce around my notebook.

take a long look
see the crystal,
can you see it at all?
but even if i fall, i still remain

ive heard the rumors of fire and fire
ive once experienced that ****** up desire.
but i fight bold, whilst you fight cold
your little "friends" line-- was rehearsed and old.

so if you are a gypsy
can you too take a journey
leave the past,
and never come back?

cause the only person honestly
qualified
was the one whom couldnt
lie.

but to see the eventual Fail.
and watch you come crawling
tended an open wound
and got the ball all rolling.

if you were a gypsy
you would have known me
long before, you opened this door
and forever remembered as a ....

funny, its predictable
to know how i am prepared
with this and much more
but now i know i am capable.

so, if you were a gypsy
you would have flown free
once the parasite could be breached
he could have happy...?

but unlike a gypsy
you dont have the grace
but its all too easy
when his resin is all over your face.
august 2010.
gotta love revenge poetry.
the girl that my ex ran off with saw this and never under stood it...
Patrick Sugarr Aug 2014
something i took
away when you looked
your scent it has
i hope it lasts
~~

your scent it has
i hope it lasts
happy i am
i wish it lasts
have you ever done something so crazy you tell yourself "you're crazy!?" haha.
Step one:
Admit that you have a problem.

Hi, I'm so and so,
and I am anorexic.
Wait, am I supposed
to state one problem
or all of them?

Let me start over.

Hi, I'm so and so,
and I am anorexic.
I am a self harming,
drug abusing, attention
seeking, anorexic with
a penchant for seeking
out love in all the wrong places.
I'm an occasional smoker,
a complete *****,
and a highly trained klepto.

I'm also a procrastinator,
does that count?

I'm self-consumed, suicidal,
and sometimes I let water boil over on the stove without cleaning up the mess.
I blame things on other people as often as possible, and never tell the
cashier when they've given me too much change back.

I know that's not all,
but it's awfully hard to remember everything
that's wrong with me right now.

Oh yeah, I'm forgetful. And terrible under pressure.
And at public speaking. I lie...a lot, and actually,
I made some of these problems up.

So I came here to get help.
By the way, when exactly does that start?
Don't ask... No clue where this came from. Just, yeah.
Joseph Floreta Apr 2017
Mahal kita,
kahit na klepto ka. Ninakaw mo nga
ang puso ko,
ngunit ibinalik mo naman.
Sa’yo na ‘yan!
Sa’yong sa’yo na ‘yan!
Ano kaya mararamdaman mo kung may nag-******
ng phone mo
tapos after 3 or 4 months ibinalik ulit?
Confused ka syempre. Hindi mo alam kung magiging masaya ka pa dahil ibinalik sa’yo
‘yung dating iniingat-ingatan mo.
Siguro, oo?
Siguro, hindi?
Wala ka nang ****.
Pero sa pagmamahal, ibang usapan na ‘yun. Masaya ka na dahil sanay ka na sa kung anong meron ka ngayon…
na nasa iyo ang puso ko,
pero ibinalik mo rin. Ninakaw mo na ang puso ko,
sana dinamay mo na pati apelyido ko diba?.
Kahit hindi mo na ibalik.
Ilang beses na tayong na-</3,
pero naayos rin natin ‘yun.
Sabi ko nga sa sarili ko,
“Sana ‘di na ako nagmahal,
para lang 'di na ako masaktan pa.
Kaya lang,
makita lang kitang nakangiti,
handa na 'kong masaktan ulit.”
at sabi ko nalang rin na worth it lahat ng ‘to.
Ang nagbibigay ng liwanag sa bahay ko ay ang Zamcelco.
Ang nagbibigay liwanag naman sa buhay ko ay ikaw…
Mahal ko.
Ganern.
Hindi ko alam kung ano ang plano ko sa buhay ko bago ka dumating sa akin.
Go with the flow lang kasi ako,
Binigyan mo ako ng rason na mag-work hard para makasama kita.
Binigyan mo akong goal sa buhay.
Medyo mala-#AlDub
rin tayo eh.
Magkikita’t magsasama rin tayo sa tamang panahon.
Ang korni no?haha

May nagtanong sa akin kung posible bang mahulog sa taong 'di mo pa nakikita.
Kung sa kanal nga na 'di ko nakita habang naglalakad ako,
nahulog ako…
Sa’yo pa kaya?
Sa totoo lang,
hindi naman talaga ako mahilig magdasal dahil nakakalimot ako.
Pero simula nang makilala kita,
nagdadasal na ulit ako.
Natuto akong magpasalamat kay God na dumating ka sa buhay ko.
Pero ayun,
our souls were just meant to stop by for a while,
not forever siguro?
Pero kung para sa akin ka, para sa akin ka.
Kung hindi,
ipipilit ko talaga, haha..
M Clement Oct 2013
I write to escape you.
I write to escape the thought of you.
Conflicted//Emotions
***** you//Functions
Just what I’d like to say,
But let’s keep it tight-lipped.

Three’s a barrier, here.
Finding desperation there.
Unintelligible governmental back-funding to the cerebral cortex of the unintended consequences of the Raven’s fighting the Foster System.

Forgetting Unbecoming, Consistently Klepto-Issues Negating Greatness
Place Ignorance and Close Kept UPbringing
YOUR
Self Hating Innocent Tainting
There's a secret message here...
Jonny Angel Mar 2014
I hate klepto-roommates,
get sick and tired of waking up
to find my personal food missing.

They never leave
any thank you notes
or a tiny bit of cash,
just lots of
empty dishes & boxes.

******,
that thieving-behaviour
really ****** me off,
makes me want
to smash them in the kisser,
but I totally abhor violence,
so I came up
with a method to fix
their selfish actions-
I put anchovies on everything
& it works,
even when they're drunk.
KG Oct 2020
Her curiousity calls, my interest stolen
A spirit about her face, when she, seeing
This wonderlust, inescapable, mine,
Yet temporary, as is this.

She emanates a significance,
I can't
resist escaping my chrysalis.

Tasteless, the breath of polluted life I savor
But for a moment. This purest waste it's haste to be expelled back to the sheltered waters which I dwell. Safe now, it sifts back to rest complete amongst the volume I've employed, until I deem its time to feed and shelter with my form.

I float above the seaswept alleys, scrutinizing the bones below, my home, the city of apathy and ruin.
The displacement of my passage rends the ocean in its vastness cleanly. Silent echoes vexed and roiling against the vacant ruins now follow me like nascent hounds. Warily I scale the depths to assess the source of my intruige, and see the obscure sky that holds the gleaming fires of sunset atop it's surface.

"How long have I been here?"
I wonder, and begin to see my real self, sitting on the floor of a home. I feel the ocean and focus my will to observe what caught my interest.

Then sight beholden a paradox,
An encounter fate withheld to ensure
The prospect flounder in a grave I dug years before. The living dead, the myths of old, gods, demons, angels, magic. I found it odd, how deeply painful and tragic my choice to discard my hope for a mask.
No longer.

I am now captivated, yet not by her body,
Enthralled, yet not by her sophistication.
These marked her ardent spirit of royal eloquence, but the intense affirmation held within the emerald sockets that could stop  sense of self when our eye's crossed paths into the traps willingly sprung.

Ah, the fool I'd be to attempt conversing with just a whim, without consent, without intruige!

Then, a wink.

This invitation sent so soon, to someone gazing from another room
She waded to me, half a grin, wry & ****
Effectively stopping all pretense of conscious thought, Instinctually I prevented the dropping of my jaw, and stopped my brain from shutting off completely, or tried to anyways.
She was getting closer, steady pace,
[What should I do now? I'm drowning in my own self doubts. I'm unworthy, a clown in comparison! Maybe she thinks I'm someone else, I'll not allow myself to expect the unexpected route, at most I'm just a simple rebound. ]
This plague of thoughts continued down thinking how I could run away, but I hesitated, and it's too late.
A part of me tries to defer her play. Escape, and drift back beneath the salty waters of marshland behind my eyes, while hers stare deeply into them. My attempts to decline her company are ignored, and I'm stopped. She holds me quietly, the beauty of her eyes a spotlight guiding the search of my face for signs of compliance or defiance.
I'm lost now.
Lost in the eyes of a friend I needed years ago, eyes that match the wonder mine held. They peer through those that cross our path, without fear, or judgment, or expectation. Her golden orbs speak kindly, beautiful they are, and fierce. Her stare holds mine, and though nothing is said, we read the others expressions like two lost strangers, deaf and mute.
Unabashedly she studys the facets of my expression, admitting freely these feelings of intense attraction.
She gently tests the waters that bars my cage, she rests expertly sitting on the floor next to me. She glances up, so close to me now her expression a breathy question.
How long until I could accept her intentions? I feel the shackles release, she coaxed the key from my my captors, thieving crafter of my release. Embracing her comfort and pleasant breeze. I take hold of her arm, then bit her politely, delight shows as she pulled me further from my city of despairity.

Seas now far below, The water from my lungs exchanged, now I sit in this party on the floor with my love without a name. I clutch her hand and grasp her eyes, breathe in deeply the easy air she helped me find. We stand and head outside.

Now the night is brightly lit by the many eye's of Nyx. She watches us watching her content to guide us from afar

We stay quiet, talking with our eyes until arriving at the station, the parking lots border shops finding space to lay and gaze at the mosaic in the sky

Then begins speech unending.

Attention, on her it looks mesmerizing, she began training in the ways of climbing deftly,  then set her sights on the hermit keepers of inner self, squirreled away in the deepest craggy recesses of  their self-isolating depression.
Her gear, well worn yet sturdy, she traversed the labrynths of the soul effortlessly. Astonishing and

The sun, now soon to wake reminds me time is rife to take my soul to depths beneath the motionless sea of my making, while the sunlight in her eyes whispers promises of eternity.
To dream and dread together, weaving webs to shelter those truly free, hungry and helpless, yet gifted with sight to see past the momentary issues, issued to men who believe the promises of those who won't miss you.
People like me, perhaps.
I think.
I sink.
In secret, I flash my contempt for my leviathan below. Resting, waiting. It demands  me to remain and skulk the streets of spines that once belonged to me. I'm kept to entertain the formless ****** that slink like klepto's thoughout my fallen city of memories. It keeps them busy, and when they are I search the ripped seams of pockets in dreams. In them was hidden my stolen key, which without I've forgotten peace.

Beneath the waves I drink the salty brine, my lungs adjust to the viscous salt base liquid,
Above cold white-capped crests oscillate,
I'm tethered here. I admit these weights are present, and **** me if I won't accept it.

My simple mind. Behind these watching eyes dwells my sea, and before the serpent catches me again, I see the soft ember color of her eyes in the distance.
Sara Reilly Feb 2016
good bad girl. fight like a boy. tsunami driftwood. raincloud no silver lining, where lightning strikestwice. bare feet hot cement. kidnapped girl in the polaroid. let me check my schedule. curiosity...cat. eggshells. prescription candy. thru the looking glass. holden red hunting cap. tyler/jack. why ophelia never learned to swim. hold my scissorhands. Drucilla. natural disaster. scartissue love tattoo addiction pain dissociation association. carrie bradshaw's evil twin. holly-go-lightly meets courtney love. wednesday adams grows up. marla singer's song. bad dreamer. caufield's *******, cobain sympatico. makes sid viscious look tame, e. edward grey esq.& miss. holloway synthesis. the white rabbit. igby. anti-heroine, captain jack's sparrow. temptation/seduction/truth cliffhanger. ticking sleep bomb, roman candle(lit). spilled milk guilt. poppy field dreamer. cafeconleche. waternymph/siren/pixie, hideandseeker. riotgrrlchild. fallen angel-demons beware. blindfoldedandbound,if swallowed contact doctor immediately. good veins. contagious, mixedbreed badmanners. moodswinger. shadowboxer. wrong side of the tracks. superlowrisepunkass. theonemamawarnedyouabout, chaoscalamity&charisma;, irresiatible&incorrigible;, neverlearnedmy lesson. kneehighs and runners thighs. handlewithcare. klepto-crinalin and hypno-medicine, tomboy/schoolgirl. skeptickeyebrow. *****-flirty. cherrybombpocketpacker, hardcandy. sociopathsister. victim of my own past. hunter/hunted. bootstrap-trapped. is that my blood? just a minute while i reinvent myself.

i’d like to meet:  
everyone i have forgotten and everyone who has forgotten me
Cjf Apr 2021
And I know
You'll hurt me
My thief
You see my heart in my eyes when I look at you
That's why I avoid your stare
You hear words I won't say out loud through my body
And you mold me into you frequently
I try and fight against the current that is you
But I'm under the water and drowning
And you're all of the ocean
All I can feel
All I can see
All around me in every direction
No matter which way I turn
You're there
Get out of my mind
But like the ocean, you can be so serene and breathtaking. You move without apology or reason. You're as mesmerizing as you are dangerous. But haven't I always wanted to dip my feet into the sea?
And when the oceans done
And I'm washed on the shore
Cold and alone
I can say
I knew it
I knew you'd hurt me
i hate that I was right
Sara Reilly Feb 2016
call me thief
i confess
beg forgiveness
but deserve no
redemption
because
i know
my life consists of
stolen objects
omitted truths
little white lies
paper trails
giving up
my secret reign of
Getting Away With It
my doctors tell me
i have a problem
impulses need to be curbed
behaviors halted
there is no cure
for my particular
ailment
my disease
is pathological
socially unacceptable
and hardwired
all i have to do,
they prescribe,
is stop
easy
like stop thinking
stop moving
stop remembering
stop feeling
they say:
just ask permission.
at 30 years old
i still have to ask permission
because i never learned how
apparently
nobody cares
that on the couch
it all makes sense
5 year old shoplifter
turned teenage klepto
turned scavenger of all opportunities
stealing is stealing
is stealing
thief is thief is thief
age, circumstances, chemistry:
excuses.
when i give in
to get what i want
people get hurt
nothing i can do
nothing i can say
will solve
this equation of shame
surprisingly
my prognosis is fine
just dont do it again
so i am resigned
the thing about done, however
is that it remains done, forever
too little too late, says i
my sentence
the bottom line
marred conscience
reputation maligned
while im not doing what i did
to reverse my integrity
i am just devastated
justly
in the meantime
Yōko Nogiwa was possessed by devils. Yōko Nogiwa endured exorcism. I shall remember her to our Lord. Yōko Nogiwa's beauty blinded her to essential truths. I felt her temporal brain's pain.

Yōko is dead-set in heat & I dare not for now ever leave her as I am
anticipating sub-tropic monsoon, wearin' floods, eating wild ******
while dealing with rash that's symptomatical of non-typhoidal fever that no medician can extirpate via scalpel wielded as an axe-cleaver
in an eldery Romani queen's ****-house as a klepto-swiping believer
or in an X-Roma crone flit's crap-house as a crap-swipin' receiver or
in a Roman crone queen's ****-house as a runny ****-wipin' deceiver
smallhands Aug 2014
I feel a clench but I will ignore it
All I desire now is sleepy oblivion and a refund for the past
Insane, out of sorts, I'm a klepto for concepts

-cj
(revamped, retooled, and reviewed for the mad council).

Admiration and kudos to quick as
greased lightening witted language
mongers gifted with means to deflect,
stave off, or thwart venemous, sacri
legious, pompous,et cetera lethal
impacts delivered chiefly to ***
*** in ate character, degrade, ex
Cory ate, where deliberate hefty
insult bruited viz zit head via bit
ting acrimonious gloating by some

trumpet ting twelfth knight, Mar-a-
Lago dwelling, Don Juan, Cassa
nova interloper ideally to be met
and taken rite off guard with cutting,
fitting, and incriminating scythe leant
taste of bitter pill as bad medicine
measure for measure, which earns
repartee deliverer at the least (cut
ting to, the quick principled litter
a chore thieving magpie klepto

maniac maven anyway) raising
the bar, per how can eye whip up
a creative reply to ward psychic
bruises as would be confirmed
by an x-ray evidencing sharp black
Amy Lloyd Barbs lobbed my way.  
Plight reiterated and described again re
phrased as mine good humor hum
dinger mew zing ct-scan reveals
(outsize funny bone) pinpointing

tiny thesaurus sim card firmly
permanently embedded, where temple
(my Mansfield) binds as the Great
Chaim Yonkle yiddish alt pun stir Perry
Como crooning se yammo, a friendly ****
mum exchange (minus jet lag) oye vay,
boot how novel, if I could wit
ness (or personally experience) quick
lightening rod quips would come to me
rescue (supercalifragilisticexpialidocious),

but generally, honestly and indubitably,
this flustering rhymster, who with bluster
brownian movement attests and accepts
slow moving cogs and wheels of his
aging noggin normally, notoriously
and nominally NEVER nsync with
nearly top notch national scrabbling
Facebooked bountiful brigands, this
will never happen to utter trail blaze
zing, nail biting, and hair raising awe

some adage, badinage, and/or  persiflage
more likely than not, mum hindlacks
proper cerebral mechanism to dream,
and get linkedin exactly at  prime time.
An absolute beauty of a doozy, flapping
like a ******, hypothetically intimated be
totally tubularly groovy, man and find
me a bit woozy with flickr ring shutterfly
twittering wii zing hacking, joyous, and
kindling euphoria asthma sign us would

go thru roof of mouth boot opportunities
foregone to daydreaming after serious
lapse of time, yet speculatively, and in
sum re: prime tete a tete would spring up
to parry, defang, and blunt puncture of
mine  psyche (imaginatively zinging red
zinger, would be one for the record books),
sans right on cue, rapier jabbing (yet art
fully crafted), an unusually timely resip
rick cal sparring touché (leading com

petition, by my itty, bitty ditty), witty
award winning smart riposte would a
rise supremely after incidents arose from
circumstance, yet twin next opportunity
passes, the critical moment will slip,
away suspecting sanctimonious sham
rock leprachaun spiritedly skewered
lucky charms finding me wishing the
means existed to conjure an instant replay
all to often when recipient of unkind word,
taken aback sans ideal return synaptic salvo.
(Friendly
Regal
Adventurous
Natured
Klepto
Irreplaceably,
Eternal­.)

In my hands,
From the beginning,
To the end,
Through the thick,
And thin,
You will always be my best friend,
Till we meet again,
My little man,
My little guy.

Nonpareil
Strut
Tank
Excitable
Inquisitive
Noodle-****
Frankie (Frankenstein) Passed away June 13h, 2024.
I will miss you,
Always.
van Young Mar 2018
FEEL
Life is supposed to be great just to feel
The cuts and slashes as time passes are real
The emotional pain of loss cuts the deepest
Death should not be proud
Death should die in a disappearing shroud
Selfish it is to rip out a heart in a nano moment of breath
Whatever this is, is complicated by Time’s aging stealth
A way to recover would be a nice part added to Life’s design
It’s hard enough finding sketchy, fleeting Peace in the daily grind
One reset per Lifetime can be part of the bargain
Had I been at Creation this is where I would start arguing
Please, no ‘ one more loss, this time around, with gusto ’
Perfect Health, Perfect Life should not be interloped by an invisible klepto
Finding the strength for the day to day cope
Is lost in the search for sinewy sustaining Hope
Putting these words on paper wrings out the salty tears of the Soul when the writing is set
Advising :
It’s time to stop writing when the paper gets wet
Yōko is dead-set in heat & I dare not for now ever leave her as I am
anticipating sub-tropic monsoon, wearin' floods, eating wild ******
while dealing with rash that's symptomatical of non-typhoidal fever
that no medician can extirpate via scalpel wielded as an axe-cleaver
in an eldery Romani queen's ****-house as a klepto-swiping believer
or in an X-Roma crone flit's crap-house as a crap-swipin' receiver or
in a Roman crone queen's ****-house as a runny ****-wipin' deceiver
because it's Yōko Nogiwa who operates the milky-***-gland reliever
My incubator incubated chicks for dinner as I hit the floor & then 2
of my legs fell off so I can't do a walkin' chore that I need 2 legs for
off shore on a truck tour with more velour against my core bed sore
days before, to wage war, Hillary dyked an Arab ***** on the floor

The Life of a Proctologist
“Hand me that hand cream.”
“Oh, shut up!”

— The End —