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Tiffany Marie Dec 2014
Alright this poem is ***** but heee goes nothing (inspired by stop don't talk to me loser lamo or lameas* wannabe)

Stop don't talk to me Loser Lamo Wannabe like o totally
Stop don't talk to me your a:
Loser
Lameas
Wannbe
You make me scream
I hate you your
Killin me you
This its impossible
You don't listen you just talk talk and talk
You just don't stop
What happenin to me
What about those dreams where's the key
I think I know where its up your as

Stop don't talk to me loser lamo wannbe like o totally
You
This
Its
Hard
To
Say
Aloud
But
I
Will
Say
It
Stop don't talk to me loser mother ***in lameas wannabe
Stop
This *****
You don't think you say you better think before I say
Stop don't talk to me you little loser lamo wannabe like o
Like O
Like O
Like O
Like O
*TOTALLY
Comments private suggestions reposts and likes welcomed
Michael W Noland Aug 2012
another
smothered lover
in the Hollywood hills
unbag the bottle
crack the seal
oh the appeal
of intake
for the sake
of intoxication
so meek and unique
in gurgled screams
a pixie in the hand of a king
compelled
to discretely
capture the beauty
in eternity
expelled
i just felt
i had to nest a shell
and befell
clearing her residual
flirtatious signals
even in the squirms
and even in the squeals
even though i know
she yearns
to be hooked by her gills
dragged through landfills
in a projected field
where she would yield
and kiss me.
i'm gonna pretend
to love her
as i tenderly
shove her
in the river
of our love
take her under
my loving thunder
and plunder her
when drugged
dazed in her wonder
i hold her under
from above
if only for a moment
we locked eyes in love
she fit me like glove
remnants
disposed of
in a rug
posed so beautifully
for the smack
hack and rip
one pretty *****
dumped
in an irrigation ditch
triumphed
our wordless
relationship
its over *****
move on with it
in the mouths
of varmints
oh
charming
as im clicking *****
on key chains
sticking misfits
with loose lips
usually homeless
decoys
here to destroy
nothing
in my twisted ploy
to employ
maximum points
conjoint
my addictive anger
to something a little stranger
im going to dangle
her entrails
in front of her eyes
while i'm bangin her
shes looking so surprised
from every camera angle
the mangled *******
what a lamo
hypnotized
in the passing of life
in the
blood
the ***
the ****
and the knife
Ayer salí a la calle,
sin recordar adónde iba.
Me guié por mi instinto,
creyendo saber el final.

Pensaba en Halloween y en ti,
cuando olvidé de qué color es mi piel,
cuando olvidé lo que de niño sabía de memoria.

Tengo miedo de olvidar cómo caminar.
¿Cómo llegaré a tocarte si no puedo acercarme?
¿Acaso solo los enamorados pueden tocarse?
¿Y si lo intento?

Ayer hablé con Arti,
un buen amigo.
Me di cuenta, frente al espejo, de que estaba…
solo.

Casi regreso a mi antigua casa,
pero otro la habita ahora.
¿Cómo pude olvidarlo?

¿Y si me doy vuelta y olvido quién soy?
Soñé que no tenía nada.
Desperté y creí que lo tenía todo.
Me faltas tú.

Solo recuérdame tu nombre,
para que no se vaya de mi mente
como un colibrí
que anhela polen puro y natural.

Lamo el suelo.
¿Por qué lo hago?
¿Y si intento?
¿Hacer…?
¿?

— The End —