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Tatiana Sep 2018
The cranium persists even with a bruise on my brain.
No, I do not wish for an ounce of pain
    and no, I do not feel like I am a strain.
There is no malintent that flows through my veins.

The rib cage persists even with a bruise on my heart
No, I do not wish for both sides to fall apart
    and no, I do not feel like I am able to restart.
There is no malintent that flows through my art.
© Tatiana
Elizabeth Kelly Jul 2014
BFG
The drunk at the bar found Aristotle at the bottom of his bottle.

But there's an important phone call coming from his shoe so he quits the pop stand, shoe in hand, and runs outside to take the call but it's only God saying nevermind, I can tell you're busy and it wasn't important anyway.

A pack of wild dogs are following me home so I invite them in and give them gin but they snarl and quarrel till I've had enough and I huff and puff till they take the hint and go down to the corner store, and I lock the door because loose dogs on ***** is the best way to lose your rent.

It's all peace and quiet at 6am, the rain is falling with malintent but the world is sleeping and I am keeping these hours from leaking out into the homes of the children next door where they slumber without worry so I hurry to maintain their dreams of fairies and flying while my kind is dying in the glowing dawning of the day.

But Aristotle sleeps alone in his bottle at the bottom of the bin, and the dogs have their gin and the kids dream within their great happy innocence as I spin another sunrise from the maw of the sky and then die until tomorrow when I'll do it again.
Omar Kawash Jul 2014
Vibrant yellow back
Defiant black streaks
Deceptively cute

Solid almost artificial blue unlike the sky or ocean
Speckled with the night
Assuming an artificial rainbow

Small eyes that radiate innocence
And an equally built body

Your diet is of alkaloids
Psychotropic substances
You use them to protect yourself
Psychedelics have brought you questions you'd rather not answer

I've indulged in the natural poisons
I can see beauty in harm, purpose, necessity
But if I let you be, I know you're no danger to me
Though, I'm a little too late

You're delicate and I am clumsy
You've warned me not to get to close, I’m bound to get hurt
I yield to what yearns to cradle your amphibious nature,
so unique to a monochrome world

Physicality is your weapon
An open wound lets your corrosive membrane transfuse my blood
You flood me
And oh, I moan. Action potential discharged, the sensory impulses to my brain.
You stop feeling slippery in my hand as I begin to rust

Little one, you escape my hands  
But I am paralyzed

Thickened blood, what went so wrong
Tender in touch, I didn't hurt you
But your defensive, corrosive skin reflected your inner malintent

Black mamba venom indisputably pierces the skin
Harsh betrayal of curious wonder
Black widow toxin, an unblunted destruction of the dermis
But you came in celebrated color

How am I to trust visual credibility of sinlessness
You're a poison dart frog
When the beauty that once enticed me
Has hardened the sanguine essence that filled me with vitality and awe
'Besem el Badan' is an Arabic phrase that translates to "that which poisons the blood."
Jonny Angel Feb 2014
Evil does not exist in the sun,
nor lie in desert sands.
It seems they
float through space
without a shred of malintent,
survive on their own.

And are diabolical-thoughts
hatched on the depths
of the ocean floor,
do snow leopards tell lies,
does the moon carry a grudge?
Have you ever seen a dung beetle
start a crusade in the name
of the Insect God?

It seems the pagans
may have opened
doors to the natural order
without guilt & shame.
Roberta Day Apr 2021
You maniacal clown
Disguise your desires
with a ****-serving brow
and a ****-eating grin
Thicken your tongue
with salivary persuasions
tingling with malintent
Shredding my mouth
so it hurts to speak
Infiltrate my neurons
until they’re rewired
and I have no more desires
I'm jumping in late but better late than never.
When the skin is cracked like dry earth,
do I grimace from pain or smile from desire?  

When skin is cracked like dead earth,
do I mourn or elevate?

To tear at flesh for obsession is to clear the shadows of repetition from the heart.

Do I grimace or smile,  when the red moon is hanging from the sky?

Is the grimace and smile different when the cracks in the clay are true?

Is it just a loop, like a snake swallowing it's tail?
Is it just a vice?
Is it medicine or malintent?

Is it better to have chaos inside and a perfect snowy field or sooth the forever storm and endeavor through the cracked desert until the end of historia?
Vince Chul'Theg May 2018
Please don’t beat me up.

While you are entitled to feel however you're gonna feel,
you don't get to beat me up because you've decided that
I came for you with malintent when I didn't.

I come from a place of love.
I'm intentional about my words,
tone and intent.
I am aware.

Give me grace.
Give me the benefit of the doubt.
Understand your past, present.
Understand mine.

If I say something that has upset you,
just because you feel I am being judgmental,
doesn’t mean that I am being judgmental.

Our feelings and reactions do not
necessarily (and often are not)
accurate depictions of reality.

That's how you feel.
Figure out whatever it is that
has you feeling hurt.

It probably has more
to do with you than it does with me.  

When I defend myself from accusations,
it’s because I know my own heart. And
I want to protect it.

When I defend myself from accusations,
I am not invalidating your feelings.

Feel the **** outta your feelings.

Just,

please don’t beat me up.
J Nov 2021
Trigger Warning: Involves cutting and attempted suicide as well as an abusive relationship*

J knew better than to be doing this again, especially after last time, but they couldn't help the sense of pure joy that they got when they pulled the slick razor blade from its package. Strangely enough, the sight of the unrusted, sharp, seductive blade made J smile, proving that they gave no other thought to how they shouldn't be doing this. The date was set, now. There was only one thing to do when they got this far along in the process.

They thought to themself, "It's just a few cuts, nothing to it, no reason to worry," though the truth was they knew that they weren't going to stop. Even with everything that they had finally gotten through, even with all the hardships that they fought against, the only thing they couldn't seem to get over was the act of splitting of their skin by their own hands.

They perched themself on the edge of the bathtub and glanced up to check that the door was locked, eyes darting back down after confirming that there was no way someone could walk in on them. They peered down at the barcode of an arm they had, smiling softly to themself as they took the blade into their mouth to hold while they rubbed their now free fingers up and down the bumps protruding from their skin.                                                  

'Not enough,' J thought to themself, shaking their head to get rid of the little voice in the back of their mind screaming, "Don't, J, he'll be mad! J you'll be punished!"

"He only cares because he owns me," J barked back aloud, voice rough and unforgiving. "If he didn't own a part of me, do you really think he'd care? Of course not. This is my rebellion. I don't want to be a part of this world anymore. I don't want to be some part of his sick entertainment."

Each of the bumps along their arm basically begged to be pulled open again, and with their fingers slipping up to their lips to retrieve the blade, they happily obliged. Every slice made upon their skin made J throw their head back, laughing at the sensation of the little pinch followed by the warmth of their blood.

"You know, for a second I thought you'd stop, little bird, but of course, you never listen to reasoning."

"*******, and **** your so-called reasoning, Bear."

Bear stood up straighter now, eyes piercing with malintent.

"You will not talk to me in such a manner, J, have you forgotten your place?"

"My place will never be under you, Bear."

"All humans like yourself belong at our feet. You've made a mistake, J, and now you will atone." He reached towards them, attempting to pull the blade away from their now half-opened arm, but J screamed and kicked away, jumping into the bathtub with their back against the wall, glaring up at Bear with the same glint in their eyes. "What are you doing, J? You cannot run from me. not here, and definitely not anywhere else."

"Don't you dare ******* touch me."

"I own you, J. I own your hands, I own your thoughts, I own your soul. I will touch you whenever I please. And you? You will obey me." J made another deep cut along their wrist, exposing the vein, the blue fading into the red as J bled out. "You think suicide will take you from me? How idiotic you must be, J. You'll just be easier for me to torture."

At this moment in time, J started sobbing, causing Bear's smile to widen as he leaned in closer, brushing the hair back from J's eyes before wrapping a hand around their throat. J didn't flinch, already used to such treatment from their past, but kept eye contact as they smiled through the streams running down their face.

"**** me," they gasped from behind the force of Bear's hand, but he only tsked at them, pulling away.

"I wouldn't give you the honor," he laughed through a sneer, now standing with his arms crossed as he looked down at J's shaking body; obviously they were fighting back against screaming again. "Now, give me the blade, J."

"W-Why," J asked through shaky breaths, letting their arm fall to their side, the blood pooling down into the tub, staining J's leg with the crimson color, emptying out down the drain. "You don't care, no one cares, let me do it, then I can be all yours to **** with, right?"

"J. Give me the blade."

"Why? Why does it matter? If I'm gone, it'll be easier to **** with me, won't it? So, just let me do it, you don't care, right, Bear? So why?"

Bear was clearly fed up with the dramatics here and leaned down once more to ****** the blade with little resistance from J, who let themselves go enough to hide their face and scream into their bare knees, still coated with blood, as each knee rose to J's chest.

"You'll be punished for this, J. You lied. You said you'd stop. You said you'd throw them away. And you know I despise liars."

"Oh, great, what is it this time? More sleepless nights?" J sniffled, breath hitching in their throat. "Do it, ******, do whatever. I don't care anymore."

"So dramatic, little bird. You know better than to call me names, don't you? And besides, doing anything to you wouldn't affect you, you're too used to it. I'll punish my little princess in your place, and maybe even Nicky as well."

J looked up then, frozen in fear. A weakness, their worst one, was the hurting of their friends.

"Please," they whimpered, uncovering their face enough to get on their knees, crawling out of the bathtub to sob at Bear's feet. "Not them."

"Bad girls get punished, little bird. You know that," he cooed with a smile, reaching down to pet J's head. They looked up at him, ****** arm soaking Bear's lower half as they clung to him. They offered a final, soft "please," but Bear was already gone, leaving J to fall onto the floor, curling against themselves into a small ball, screaming out their friend's names.
Graff1980 Sep 2017
There is malintent
maliciousness
by a maleficent
monster of a man.

Long ago destruction
became the landscape.
Bullet and bomb holes
punctured the earth.

Though once a field
of fetid forms
filthy with decay
where all the bodies laid
now there is no more smoke.
Here sweet roses grow.

Instead, there are new
war wounds.
Violence blooms.
Each day new battles loom
one man wears down
one woman’s defenses.

For what it’s worth
her heart hurts worse.
Her skin was swollen
and very bruised.
Despite the truth
and her trust issues
she tried to stay
and weather his
horrible ways.

Until, one day
her face collapsed
under his furious force,
and her body went limp
as life divorced,
soul torn from flesh.
We Are Stories Nov 2020
just an undercooked
distasteful rare
half way there
mouthful of hair
always striving
with underwhelming care
to do my least best
the least that i can
the least i can bare
-
yet that's all it takes
to be standing here
making clear
with joyous sneers
praised for malintent
in how i lead my peers
to do their least best
the least that they can
the least they can fear

— The End —