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King Panda Feb 2016
I’ll have you know that this started out
as a love poem
but then I got lazy
and distracted when the dog started biting my leg
and I decided that this process wasn’t
worth it all together
and went outside for a smoke

that’s when I tried to call you
but you didn’t answer
I guess it’s Valentine’s Day
and you’re probably
with some other guy who’s more
sensitive than me
but can he smoke as **** as me?
or cough as loud?
or breathe as heavy?
well probably ******* not
and maybe that’s a good thing
that he’s healthy
and doesn’t smell like the inside of a Texas Roadhouse
before they decided that smoking killed everyone
and no one could do it there
no
not even the good looking people

you always said I was good looking
well
above average
and I cooked good too
and that one Valentine’s Day you said
If you asked me to marry you right now, I’d say yes
that was after I killed the bat in the attic
bought you a bouquet of bleeding hearts and
brought home the puppy
since then
my typewriter has busted
and you have left
P.S.
I still have the dog and
I renamed him Juniper
because that’s what happens when you’re
drunk
and sad
and alone

but now I’m happy
smoking a cigarette
listening to my neighbor’s massive wind chime
conk and sway in the crosswind
and I feel as alive as ever
knowing that you’re
wiping off that red lipstick with a poem I wrote you
because your date just got done
and he’s not sleeping over
and you’re just about to
walk to the back patio
and smoke a cigarette
because you want to die
just as bad as I do
These streets
are home to countless rodents
emerging but for a moment
to feed
or breed
or just to breathe the sun

One by one lining up
for the chance to
make something
out of nothing

Who are they and
where do they go
while the city refuses to
sleep

Doors to endless lands
line the avenue
each its own portal to the
unimaginable

A family of four
with the little yapping mutt
or a lonely cat lady
whose entryway wreaks of *****,
a drug dealer
door slamming
every hour on the hour
or an empty snowbird's nest

On the surface everyone is
pretending
they don't have a hole to
crawl back to
or walls that know
every secret

But below the sewer grate
a world filled with
the stench
of what could have been a
good day

Many a barkeep can
shed some life
on these drunkards'
rat king
or at least a story of those who
made it out

Once or twice it'd be grand
to see the bottom of a martini glass
left with a sip or two
instead of the casually tipped
lipstick-clad cocktail,
drained of doubt and despair
until morning warms the
frozen dreams
of those retired to
a paradise unknown
New York City streets
Tea Aug 2012
She walks by without a clue
Her bubbly personality and bright *** shoes
Laughter gush and spills, free and loose
Joyous even in the way she moves

She wears the world as hot as red lipstick
Explores herself and what’s not listed
Follows the rules but just has to break them
Sings in the night, when no one listens

The sun comes out when she’s ready to play
Curls bounce as she walks my way
She doesn't even know

Has never been touched with a lovers kiss
But she loves deeper than anyone I have met
Cares so deep, hugs so sure
Trusts so venerable, loyal for sure
She isn’t the rainbow
A color undiscovered
The flavor of happy, the taste of song
Flies like a bird, dancing in the lawn

Climbing trees, hanging in the park
Sharing her stories, girl likes to talk'
She doesn't even know that she is
My shining star, little piece of bliss
Showing the way when things get hard
Laughing when I cry
Cry when I laugh so hard
She doesn't even know
She’s my window in to happy
When it’s no ware else to be found
My excitement when my life is turned upside down
Noise that needs to happen
Hug I need to have
Person I know will be there
The smiles that’s for sure
Liesel you’re my happy pill
The one for sure cure.
Lizzy Mar 2014
My therapist says i need to be honest
i need to tell everyone the truth
about how i feel
what goes through my mind.

im so lonely and distant
and the only way to get close
is to be honest.
but i cant
im not sure why i cant

i cant tell him how im dying inside
i smile and blow a kiss
but i have killed myself a thousand times
in my mind

"surface relationships"
thats what she calls them
doctor know it all
doctor get inside my head
doctor please fix me

maybe im just a freak
she tells me not to say that
but the idea of letting someone see  my pain
is so terrifying

anyone whose seen me bleed
tried to stitch me up
stop the gore
or brush me off

and i cant do it again
i cant get close
once i do
they disappear
even if they didnt want to
they were gone

and sometimes im the one who leaves
i dont know why that is either
because im just a freak

i bat my lashes
and put on my red lipstick
smile and laugh
like a babbling idiot
when all i want to do is die
and i dont know why
Tara J Williams Apr 2016
I've been telling my therapist about you.
I've been trying to sleep, yet all that fills my head is you and her.
You talking to her. A filthy wreck. I feel sorry for her.
Me working into the early hours of the morning, watching a sunrise on the long drive back, me wanting to get home to you.
You getting involved with her while I'm gone. You inviting her to the bar. Let me make you a drink.
You could be wiping her lipstick away before I return, erasing her taste from your lips. I bet it's disgusting.
I thought you hated dreadlocks.
I've been going over and over in my head if this is what I'm worth. I know I'm not a looker.. My hair is messy, my clothes are ripped, I'm all marked up from the past.
I thought my personality shone through that though.
Sometimes though, I guess that's not enough.
What hole do you need to fill? Please tell me.
Please, oh please tell me why you knocked me down. Why am I not enough.
I've been crying a little each day, then pulling it back together.
I've been trying to still be that stone wall I always am throughout this horrible pain.
I smell like cigarettes, you smell like lies.
I've been telling my therapist about you.
SilentAce Oct 2015
Girls wear pink.
Boys wear blue.
Girls wear dresses.
Boys do not.
Girls like to wear makeup.
Boys like to play in the dirt.
Girls want dolls.
Boys want toy cars.
Girls like boys.
Boys like girls.
Samantha is a girl’s name.
Samuel is a boy’s name.

This is what some were taught, this is what some grew up only knowing.

Now meet Sam.  

Sam’s favorite color is pink.
Sam loathes wearing dresses.
But sometimes does not.
Sam likes to get *****.
But always likes to wear lipstick.
Sam likes dolls.
But plays with cars too.
Sam likes boys.
But likes girls too.
What is Sam?
A girl or a boy?

Go ahead. Check the box.
Female or Male?
I thought you knew the rules?
So pick.  

Pink?
Or blue?
Boy or Girl?

Or just wait until Sam can tell you, I’m sure they’ll know the answer better than you.
Kara Jean Jul 2016
Patio umbrella waving like a fan
Beer numbing my face, nightly planned
I hear broken music from an ice cream truck
I hear the thunder as it struck
Almost like a demented fairytale plucked from my imagination
God's ****** up creation
A gorgeous mess with a yellow and pink sunset dress
Slowly, we watch night
The look lies as the heat hugs tight
The smell of peppermint suffocating memories
You take another sip and try to remind yourself to live
To bad your kindergarten ambitiousness ended in a bottle with lipstick stuck to the rim
zebra Aug 2017
a black bat
hangs upside down
digesting a fly
his face almost human
a flying Frankenstein

he excretes
puddles of guano
like miniature buttered popcorn
a dark and wavy goulash
gods gift
to beetles and worms

dizzied overheated men look on
to an uproarious variety hour
of song and a high heeled kicks
inspiring
a tempest of throbbing
whisky drenched
folded ***** and cash

trouser trout fish,    
undulant
sexed up
tape worms for love
pulse the night
egging on bunny **** pom poms
devout finger puppets of Eros
for
shimmering ****** lipstick twilled vibratos

sequined tassel spinning areolas
and lavish come **** me dance girls
bring down the house in flames
making hearts apostate
clamoring
and melt men like steaming everglades

the bat
hangs from the chandelier
licks his black lips
and looks on to panorama of hieroglyphics
hearing music
a thunderous nonsense  

witnessing visions
of
flies, tasty white winged moths
and the thrill of screams
while biting the head off of another bat
in a claret stained red velvet cabaret
Jay Lewis Jul 2017
You stay over again at mine,
while she thinks that, you're covering the late shift-"you're so kind."
You kiss me like there's no tomorrow tonight.
We're on borrowed time.
This love is so shallow.

Does she see the marks on your spine?
The lipstick stains of how much I want you to be mine.
I hear your phone buzz,
You don't answer it-but why?
I get it now,
This is our lost time.

You go to gig,
With the band.
She thinks that your just with your friends.
I see you there, across the bar,
You say: "let's go back to ours."

Does she see the look in your eyes?
You're not happy, your in disguise.
I'm not just the other ******* the side-
I'm "The One" he calls because I'm on his mind.

4 years too long,
We waited for this moment to arrive.
You whisper; "God how much I've missed you in my life."
You hold me until I fall asleep by your side.
But I'm not sure this time... this time...
 
So go ahead now try me
Whos it gonna be?
Her or me?
Angela Moreno Oct 2016
She was gone before the sun arose.
I don't know when she left my bed,
But I know that she was here.
For though her imprint on my mattress
Has cooled and faded,
Her lipstick stains show bright on my pillow,
Two ******, mirroring arches
On a field of snow
I clearly recall
Her icy, cold fingertips on my spine
Waking me up twice in the night
Before I found the morning
Without her there.
Kara Jean Dec 2016
She thought she had it;
Significance

Muddy dress, an outfit depressed

The sunshine blinds

A use for her view

Then realistic features come walking in

Scolded shoulders tower over

Her fishnets and black lipstick hide her
mildewed heart

She fights

Fighting submerged her feelings

Numbing the pain she became hate

Hate became her soul

A control

A defense

A way to save her from death

To bad the devil has a toll

A fee

He envies ****
Phillip Walter Nov 2018
Shimmer
of eyeshadow
Pink
Lipstick on
white
cotton Tzitzit.
our own little

Jewish Romance.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tzitzit
Julie Smith Jul 2017
There's too much light in your window baby
I see the shadows of you and her
Too close together for another sin
But my love is between her and your skin

Baby by now you might have it figured
That I see and know more than you prefer
And the truth is still far from the life you live
If I only knew what you see in her

It's 4 am and my lipstick in vain
Your window's empty and in my mind the walls are made of glass
Tears mixing with the rain
Falling to the ground to my knees on the grass

Pounding hearts in a parallel world
I wish they were ours again
You were not made for another girl
I will be watching you until you see me
Written in April and I'm still watching you;)
Inspired by Natalia Kills' song by the same name
Nesma Aug 2018
She leaves a note that she signed with her name although nobody else was there because he screamed the name of another woman while he was in her ****.
She left a note that she’s written in her bright red lipstick because he said it made her lips look like cherries, and her mother had taught her that the fastest road to a man’s heart is a good meal.
She leaves the note in her bright red lipstick because he didn’t compliment the dress she wore on her fragile body, the shoes she wore on her dainty feet, or the heart she wore on her sleeves;
he complimented the lipstick she wore as a note written on his bedroom mirror;
a mirror that extends from the coarse land of Persia to the frozen seas of the north pole.
What she likes the most about the note she left is that she covers a part of the mirror, and a mirror is neer a friend.

He takes a leap of faith and jumps headstrong into a relationship that he knows will drown him.
He was named a champion in the 2015 Olympiad for swimming;
he lost his golden medal but the whiplash on his heart when he delved firsthand into the waters will always remind him how salty it tasted.
He sinks into an abyss of intensity that he cannot dry out no matter how long he sits near the lonely candle next to Madonna’s portrait.
He soaks in the glistening sunlight; water was never his friend.

She brushes her hair every evening and every evening she reminds herself that she needs to brush off her father’s rejection.
He trains everyday and every day he reminds himself that his heart is also a muscle.
They do it in the dark because it’s easy to love another and scary to see yourself.
M-E Feb 3
Open a window to the unconsciousness
Sun rises on broken lamps
In the city of slaughtered lambs
With nocturnal jobs and diurnal breaks
Red, red, red lights
Pen bleeds on paper leaves
Paper cries and streams to you
Penciles sketched a ***** Plato
Shadow cave imprisoned Aristole
Once right and true, now hyperbole
My room of fallen dreams
Smells of eggs and smoken beams
Triple *** and Triple 666
Sold books and bought a Twixt
Watch yoga beggard with red lipstick
Hands that wrote, punched a face
Threw anger with a victory fist
For playing on a piano of benefits
Pray a prayer and Trust In God
Pay justice for In god We Trust
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