Blood clots avalanche
into the toilet bowl--

I read them like they
are tea leaves.

A confirmation
of what I have always
know:

my womxnhood

a testimony

of bad fortune.

forever is a long time












to wait
for someone
and he waited








for me
for 9 years
until
9 tears
spilled
  d
      o
  w
      n
   his face
   a trace
   of              
         d       n       e
   a                           s
s                                 s

o       l       t       f
n       i       h      r
         n      a      o
t        e      t       m
h       s              
e               r       h
                 a       i
                 n       s


E      E
Y      S
    t
    o
    h
     i
     s
t          s
   o   e

nobody knows
how far this goes
how      o                     n
        o        o           o         g
     l                   o                  she strolls
without (whoa)s

each pebble places puzzles
pedaling peddlers play in puddles

triplet
        o
      twin
        e            tu
   ­     r              mb
        s            le

rumble mumble bumble
                        


                       GO AWAY
                             stay okay

my tires are all tiring
my spark plug is misfiring
my wires need rewiring
my modem is requiring
the answers i’m inquiring
why are we all conspiring
an interweb inspiring
an instant gram empire ring













my Angel waits on HI
                                   BI

Proletariat
Author: Sajal Ahmed
Type: Poetry
Format: PDF
Size: 2.43mb
Download Proletariat. PDF: https://www.mediafire.com/file/lokwkn53bm4sz52/Proletariat+uploading+copy.pdf
Preamble
I have some of my poems in the book. Thinking about poems are my own. I love to decorate the world like myself.
With your thoughts or imagination, the world of my own thoughts or imagination may not be the same.
I am not worried about whether your thoughts or philosophy are mixed with my thoughts or philosophy, because I am happy that 'at least I have a thought area of ​​my own. And I can paint my fantasies with my own paint! '
Last: Readers should read, think, and critique. That's my glamor.






Proletariat
Sajal Ahmed


Maxim E Publication
Published Date: 2 Dec 2018
Allright Reserved ©Sajal Ahmed

Prehistoric name
My father was old-fashioned. He named me Abu Bakr. The name was like poison to me. As an old woman,  The name has been found out from the bottom of the pinnacle. My father was old-fashioned. His thoughts are outdated.
I grow up and change the name; Instead of an old-fashioned name.
  I do not know if my father was suffering, But he never called me anymore.

Poets Never Die
If I am a woman poet
My poetry, there was no shortage of readers.
The comment room would have been filled, indigenous.
I'm sorry
Meanwhile, my poetry reader came out clean air, and a tree.
Then they said to me, write down the death;
And that's suicide.
Now I said; Every man and animal will one day taste death.
Poets are getting the news of death very long ago
O great winds and trees!
The trees and the wind laugh at me and say, 'But the poets never taste the death!'

Make a revolution
Against the bourgeoisie
And just a revolution
my mother
Did not eat rice
Today is three days
my mother
Did not get rice
Sweat took her clothes
There was no money tied
No grocers left him
Nobody paid for his hard work
**** rice
Gourd pulp
Across the nun
Eutlet potatoes
No one bought it.
No one took the news,
Whether my mother ate or not
And just have to make a revolution.
To give rice to my mother,
And just a revolution.
Sixteen million people's resources
Swallowing, the upper class
Today will be divided, swallowed resources.
Maybe give rice
Either head
Sons of *****, chewed your head today!


Proletariat
1.
I will buy a spectacles to buy my father, I heard from the store, the full costume spectacles stolen! There will be no police station for anyone who steals the galley. There will be no press conference, no meeting, no procession will be held. No status, event or group will be opened on Facebook in protest. No action will be taken from the government to thieves.
2.
There are two types of theft in the world!
Proper stolen
Illegal stolen
Proper stolen proletariat and his property in the Elite House. Elite classmates pay the remaining stolen money. Elite people steal the cheap glasses from all markets and hopefully for more profit.
I think of my father going to buy glasses. Parents can not read the old specs due to lost!
3.
My dad
Want to see the daily political page! Then he became an intellectual and taught me how to survive in the present political field. How to make a foul goal. Father is not able to give me anything! As the father's glasses lost.
4.
I was excited to see my politician-savvy intellectual old father, so I went out to buy a spectacles. I came to the shop to see my father's spectacles stolen from the shop! The elites have stolen my dad's spectacles.
Now I want to eat all the elite money, carts and properties, all chew!


Suddenly!
Suddenly! Six people in front of you are wearing black clothes!
And they are threatening to shoot your father;
Not six of them, you can not understand that they are just a few! Father's hands are binding!
Tie the legs, and tape the face!
They  cheating on a booing, tapping the tape fills the vague word.
Suddenly!
And after hearing his shack, someone tied black in the face and hit with the gun button hit him! Father's hand tied. His legs tied. And tape in the mouth.
Now the father is going down!
Dad does not know
His eyes are watering and his blood is bleeding!
Dad is now deliberately bidding And blood in the floor.

Suddenly!
Looking at the floor, your brother and mother's bodies are there after the floor.
They forgot to call people screaming.
As a mistake, the holes along the mother's forehead and brother's chest.
Now your eyes are water! But you can not cry!
The body of the brother is still bouncing, the tongue is out,
fresh blood in the floor!
You will not be pampered by the fact that this incident will be headlined in different newspapers tomorrow.
Because all the news is not spunky. Nobody wants to be like this headline.
You now have the idea of ​​saving yourself.
Suddenly you thought, what is your enmity with them?
You do not know so far You just know your father has a property. And there has been a conflict between Mayor Osman Sahab. Osman has called you and helped you.
Osman is a good man He is the winner of victory
You yourself are his people. You're a huge fan of him. His speech Motivational.
Now.    
You think, such a good man like Osman can be found only in heaven; Or as a pity on the story page.
This is not possible by him. Proceed in front of the story.

Suddenly!
You see no one around;
And there is only one chance in your hand
Think about what to do now. There is no time.
There is nothing to do or to die!
A pistol in front of you, you can survive if you want to use it. But if you shoot a gun and shoot him, then he will shoot his father right now! What do you think of racing to run!
Yes! Alvida! Survive. Yes, live life!

Suddenly!
'Father' goin in the shape! Squeeze the fad Buiyao..... Buiyao... Buiyao.......
Dad! They killed your dad!
Now? Now you will find them!
So run......... yes! Run it.........
A bridge in front
No
Six people wearing black clothes
Not more
Osman's black dress
The six of them are behind him
Dad is on the floor
Mother is dead afterwards
The brothers are screaming
Tape in the mouth of your father
Brother's body on the floor
Gun in your hand
You are in your house
You are running on the bridge!

Suddenly!
You think Osman is in front of you
Do not you in his house
Perhaps running to run,
You got hit in his car
He brought you to his house.
He asks you repeatedly,
'What is the event?'
You think all the imagination still
You are dreaming of sleeping at night.
Osman Sahib silence.
You're also silent You're over again. It's a dream After a while again came back.
Osman Sahab laughing in front of you.
It's a dream
It's not a dream.
Osman Sahib laughing. You are not in his house, in dark quotes. Ha ha ha Osman Sahab will laugh more!
I can not write anymore. Because once people die, there is no history!
I can only highlight, Osman's smiling success.
Osman sahab busses laugh......

If you want to fly then fly
If you want to fly then fly to the sky
If you want to fly then your fan will grow.


Liar Lover
O liar lover!
Your biggest lies "I love you babe, more than me and my father-mother."
I remember your words
And every falsehood will be judged one day!
That day I opened my pants zipper:
I'll **** your ***** face!
"What is insult?"
I'll teach you.
******* **** girl
No one will look at you;
Nobody will show sympathy;
You will cry,
Nobody can hold your hand,
I'll kick you
In your face and chest
I will kick your stomach!
More,
I will tattoo your whole body
"You are a liar! You are a scam! You're a *****! You're a street nerd dog!"
***** now go to hell....


First Love Makin
I am talking about the first day to throw you away.
The day you hit me;
My bird took refuge in your secret house.
Both of us were in the trunk:
of the cemestery;
Both are very happy.
Then you were ******* my lips
Like an orange cell,
I think it would eat.
I kissed your whole body. Your ******,
was very hard
I touched your *******.
Tallow two *****.
You ****** eyes and bitten won lips
and said, "Ah!"
Then the became one two bodies.
The two souls joined together in the same spirit.
I still remember that day.


Prayer
More than once I tried
My neck is not lowered!
There is a lot to leave outside the suburbs
I do not feel good..
Where did the god worshiped,
where did God go?
Why do not you see me?
What a weird mood
Worshiped on the Lord's footsteps
Every evening and every morning,
My Lord's worship is no more
Do not mind!
I lost;
This is an unbearable pain!
Why do not you see me?

You Never seen his heart
O lovers of earth
You Never seen his heart,
Have you ever seen the heart
of your poor boyfriend?
How much burns?
How much of his humility, his survival,
How much does he think of himself as small?
What are you looking at
The young man's cry alone at night?
You look at the boyfriend
Sometimes the lover's heart?
How to fight with a real world;
Ever wondered why a sea water would be donated;
Why mix
The body in the grave
After so many ways have passed
A fish;
Decide to remain lonely.
pages breaks out of the book,
after a long sleeveless ride
One crow flies alone
The money is blown
after the ATM booth;
This world
Here it is
It's weird!
Sick and sick
You love it so much that it hurts you away;
Thinking you will be sick
By separating yourself from you.
You think of him as selfish
Think about your own interests
The boy left you today.
But
Forget you repeatedly;
That is not love and sometimes selfish;
Forget you repeatedly
If selfish;
But why do not you look at another woman thinking you will suffer?
You never asked yourself;
Why the boy in the face of is not so much smile today
Does not laugh a little?
Why do you want to move away?
Maybe the rest of the time you are sick with him
Thinking of yourself in your place, why he left yourself alone.
Leave you out and say in his heart;
"In the public way
In the crowd of seven hundred millions of people
Your walk is still a lot of way to your walk,
Just started;
There is no limit on this path
There are many bowlers here
Many goons;
A huge screen.
Large screen flashes unfinished
The screen is torn off
Start walking
You have to walk......
When you learn to recognize "what is man?"
When you start to realize how difficult the reality is
Again and again called my name will go to Dargah
Kedgeree will give me my name
But I can not get back again
How difficult can the human heart be
As if tough rock stone
Did not understand today?
You did it
But why often in his own soft heart
Do you suffer so much?
Why are you so skeptical to bite yourself?
How terrible it is to get rid of people
You can not learn today?
You have learned
Why then why
Why then
Can not you be strong? ''
On different issues
After the various wounds were created
And decided
Own unbeatable
Painter Onle
Do not let you burn
Your efforts to be happy for you.
You still did not see the reality;
How did you cry after crying?
Last night did not sleepy;
Could not sleepy
He cried very silently.
He never wanted to cry you;
And why did you cry?
Have you ever thought about that?
There comes a time
People sacrifice their favorite things
Just as Ibrahim gave his beloved son a sacrifice.
The world is underground
So here is the emotional crowd
The reality comes back often
There are many reasons for sacrificing their favorite things.


Am I Wrong?
I repeatedly say to the heart, "I am wrong, I am wrong!" The heart repeatedly tells me, "You do not, you are wrong! ''

Will not be seen
Suddenly we stopped at the last page;
Wherever the cloud stops on the mountain!
There is a frost on the fridge,
The rain rises every day in the morning and shook silently.
Just like a broomstick,
Where all the fish stops are waterless pond;
I'll stand there every morning alone,
I know that all will come, only you will not be seen....


Slave of the Devil
If the star goes away;
The devil is scared
Running rushing,
His servants in this town
Reigns
An Eye of Illuminati
The trembling shivering in winter
And singing different songs;
A piece of blanket is very cold
Hey poor party
To stay comfortable
Let's move to Satan's team.


I was a broken glass
I was a glass, and broke in a variety of ways.
Blood in broken glass it's severed heart.....


Going to die now
I'm going to die now
The soul is going down;
The boat floats on the Spirit,
Everything is going away from the body;
And I, I will not come back!

Mudane Football
After kicking everyone else, I guess, I'm a Mundane football!


Block To Making dreams
People can not sleep after crying, If he can not sleep, he can not make dream


The Train
The train that stopped at midway; That's death


God and My Dad
I never asked for anything from God, and God never gave me anything like my father. The difference between my father and God is that, my father was stunned by the birth of me. And God did not cease to create the punishment in the Hereafter will be rewarded!


My blocked Happiness
I feel painful Hundreds of millions of illnesses die of happiness


My syllabus
My syllabus has been burnt;
Do not read any bad love poem story book
No need spectacles available;
I do not fear the extra cost;
My syllabus is burnt-
Broke spectacles.

You are in Whirl of the earth
When you are in the whirl of the earth, when you look at the whole world, then you see the dull! Look at the left, there is no one next to you. Look at the left, or there is no one there. The God above is not with you. The parents of the house, they do not even understand you. Therefore, you do not have to stand up properly. now? Yes, your time of death is right now. But you know, you can not die. Because death does not want you!

I'm Afraid
When I look at the pocket, I'm afraid to look at you. After that, when I looked at the pocket last time, my own janaza taught myself.


Worst offender
The worst offender in the world itself seems to be, when my dear man is crying for my own sake!

I am
I only swallow the grief of beloved people. One day, the troubles that I have not digested, will answer everything.


****** laws
This is the world of law;
Here people, animals, insects and insects, and roads all obey the law.
All the leaders of the world, all the poets of the world, have enacted the law.
You are walking; You have to obey the law.
Eating; Laws must be followed.
You are enjoying marijuana;
You will be enacted, they will take you away and the police will beat you; You must be in jail!
You do not have freedom of speech; Your words and laws have been imposed! You will leave the excretion; It is also under the law.
Therefore, you can be a sea or wave; There is no law, no matter where you are,
you can be happy wherever you are.
After whipping you will be able to float which is happy.
So you become sea or waves.


Prayer
More than once I tried
My neck is not lowered!
There is a lot to leave outside the suburbs
I do not feel good..
Where did the god worshiped,
where did God go?
Why do not you see me?
What a weird mood
Worshiped on the Lord's footsteps
Every evening and every morning,
My Lord's worship is no more
Do not mind!
I lost;
This is an unbearable pain!
Why do not you see me?

I'm Innocent
What is my crime?
Why do that?
What is the blame?
Do you leave me?
I'm innocent
I'm so so
I'm innocent
I'm not at fault!
I love you
So always say true
I'm so scared
About our relationship
If it breaks
My death is bound!
I do not want
To die
Leave you
I do not want you to cry
I do not want you to be alone
I do not want to see water in your eyes
I want you
Smile
More
Get angry with me
And finally
Love me.
You can cry me
Hit as much as possible
As much as kicks me
Still I will not let you cry
Because I love you
If I ever see you weeping;
If I ever see you wandering,
I will destroy this world!
Oath By God!


-The End-

****, bruh! call a bomb squad (bo[ɑ]mb squa[ɑ]d)
for there's a bomb—
—shell here, whose rear evokes a somewha[ʌ]t
unholy, wrong thought (wro[ɑ]ng thou[ɑ]ght)
reminds him of a jihadi-done job (jihadi-done jo[ɑ]b)
'cause this ***'s (boom) banging; this honey's dancing
boldly & lewdly, got his jaw dropped (ja[ɑ]w dro[ɑ]pped)
his sight's fixed on her hips, she's beyond hot (bey[ɑ]ond **[ɑ]t)
this gal's freaking blazing
his hand's in offensive motion for her hind part
a haptic invasion
she moves on from wining to fondling, she's eager
such a luscious body, killer figure (body)
disguised with a tank
top with a low neckline & tight-fit cropped pants
she's like: "make me high like a rooftO̲p nearly reaching
the sky; give me a tI̲me so exquisite
that I̲'ll be left speechless
when this ro[ɑ]mp's over"
she's none short o'... a mind-blower, like a gun-toter
blowing a brain of a **** hound wrongdoing
('bout time to strike a hunting seas-on up on these ****)
she digs vicious, dark-sounding music
but also doesn't mind to bounce her tushie
to 90-100 bpm party-sound tunes

no... it's not one of those what came first
type of questions revolving around
a chicken and an egg...

but... since we became innate in translating
images into audibility,
of a more potent system of encoding...

i'm starting to question one "clue"...
did humanity discover the current
encoding system of meaning,
from what, let's just posit: hieroglyphs
as the starting block...

well... because whatever the Chinese
invested in originally... has remained intact...
but i'm wondering...

did we discover the Greek Δ (delta) first...
or... was it the case that...
encoding sounds, using images,
became so outdated...
that looking up at the stars...
               we figured a second tier of
the abstract of communication?

basically... did we discover the skeletal
phonetic first... or did we discover geometry first?
geometry: the basis for an abstract
spatial coordination, with regards to
whether time should be inclusive,
or exclusive in this new field of study?

to me it's a big question...
does the letter Δ (delta) predate the concept
of a triangle?

              new chicken, new egg dynamic...
i'm just curious...
   i'm trying to suggest that...
according to the Greeks...
         the triangle had to be
an a priori concept with the a posteriori
Δ...
               i could be wrong...
but... like an aeroplane conundrum...

i'm thinking: Δ... so... people talking about
climbing mountains?!
how else could you even begin abstracting
a letter, delta, conjuring up a triangle?!

I VM ᛏ Δ:
                   i walk up mountain...

primordial languages,
which primarily originated in verbs...
not the elaborate nouns and noun
distinctions of today...

so what came first? the triangle,
or Δ?
                 in Latin that's I VM T D...
WM? zigzag, or the anti-image
representation of side-winding,
walking: up-down-up-down-up-down...

so what came first?
the letter Δ... or the discussion concerning
triangles?

well... if you look further in time...
i'm pretty sure that I predates 1,
V predates 5,
                        IV predates 4...
X predates 10...
      a time when even 0 wasn't conjured
of looking into the void of Omicron...
so...

                  Δ predates the concept of
studying a triangle...
Δ is the a priori variant of the a posteriori
triangle...
given the Roman numerals...

and i'm pretty sure Δ was derived
from the contorts of a mountain...

i like that summary in the title:
I VM ᛏ Δ        : i travel up mountain...
Roman, Runic, Greek...

                  which just bewilders me,
how much of the ancient tongues had
to improvise with hand-gestures,
the same gesticulations that are still with
us when it concerns deaf people...

i did write a contradiction in this
piece didn't i?
   i might have written that the triangle
predated the Δ,
which is impossible...

                  given that...
Δ is an abstraction of a hieroglyph construct
of encoding...
   at having written the encoding Δ,
having spent some time looking
at a mountain... there was no triangle
in sight... no 2D pyramid in the world...

but then some scholastic book-worm
concentrated on the letter Δ...
and conjured up a triangle!

                         i guess i should make
this an ode, an ode to the god Tyr.

p.s.

there is a variant of how sign-language
provided the enzyme of evolution...
the gnostic A / Λ (lambda)
to denote the unit of 1, or the vector
encouragement posit of:
  one's actions -
                                   the gnostics
tend to focus, not on the iota, I...
the index finger... but the alpha...

                            i.e.

                      (  )     (  )
                            A

the blanks denoting the presence of eyes...
    by comparison Λ (la-mbda)
                                    how many African
languages use the mbaku - the mb-
prefix?
                                   Λ VM ᛏ Δ -
           i.e. i'm the first (on top)
to walk up the mountain...
                  the mountain is a mountain
because its foundation is the ground
i walk on...
               but among the people,
the people are not my foundation...
i am the foundation that pulls people
forward...
                                      otherwise...
conflict stemming from Λ in the form
of A...
                       hierarchic conflict at the cut
off point... whereby... a large majority
of people: fall into the abyss...
     as it definitely does happen
in real life.

Nostalgic sunset
The giver of happiness
Ruler of pure truth

I don't ever want you to leave
I can't imagine life without you
Where I am and who I am
Every tear I shed for you

My love is overflowing
And nothing can intercept us
Or break us
We are unstoppable if you
Would take my hand and trust my heart and soul
To keep you safe within them

With tired eyes I look beside me and you aren't there
I crave to see your warm blue eyes looking into mine

Don't worry dear I am trying
I am gonna make it happen
I am gonna try my hardest

Fall and get up
Climb the highest of mountains
And push against the current

Distance
There is no border between us just lots of roads
Rarely do we hold each other but when we do I know

That my heart hurts for you but it loves you so
My heart skips and races , it slows and it flutters , with every look, with every touch , the soothing sounds you make and when our lips meet

You are my sun and my stars you are a universe

I love you and it only gets stronger

It's okay if you cry and it's alright if you feel like a gray sky

Cause it is just a feeling love and the truth is that you are not

You are a vast and beautiful sky , pink and blue and firey Orange
Full of something more
More than you can ever imagine

And as the day darkens and we run through the sand
I just wanna keep feeling your hand

Promise that you will never fade
You are the light that guides me to a safe place

And that place is your arms
Lead me into your arms

Never let me go and
We can heal each others scars

Kiss me again and again as we grow old
I'll kiss you again and again through warm summers and the cold

I love you
You are not a burden
You are a galaxy

That I forever want to explore

how tragic is that sometimes the only way to lure the greatness out of her endless sleep is to torture the soul by life itslelf.

I never knew your exquisite features
could **** me in such a beautiful way.

The way your eyes
stabbed my heart and broke it into shards of glass
reminded me of the specks of blue in your eyes,
so I apologized for the terrible mess I must have caused
and the scratches I must have inflicted on your
dreamy gaze, the one I wanted to bottle up and keep
on rainy days.

The way your skin
electrified my soul after a simple touch
and disrupted the chemical flow between my sensitive nerves
made me feel so special,
so I let you
destroy me in the most lovely way imaginable.

The way your smile
caused an explosion in the pits of my stomach
and caused a herd of buffaloes to
slowly rise in the lump in my throat, made me think of
the one time they tried to explain the Manhattan Project,
so I figured the destruction you caused was only
a history lesson.

-MB

I fell asleep beneath a cape
Of thick, porcelain mist-
And let my soul sink into the ground,
As darkness did persist.
I heard a demon cry to god,
Begging his precious grace
To wash away the rotten ash
Crucified upon his face.
The air was cloaked with righteousness,
It seeped into the pores
Of pagan trees and shrubbery:
Cast out of heaven's doors.
I curled my knees up to my chest,
And wrapped my arms round close,
As cold, damp air embraced my skin,
Invoking the Holy Ghost.
                                                                                   MB.

b


efore   i
formed
y
o
u

in
the
wo
mb

i
k
n
e
w

y
o
u

I carry you with me,
Woven
In between
The frayed
Ends of my oversized
Sweater,
And the
Hollow pauses
Of conversation
Saved for thoughts
Too sacred
To be revealed.
I carry you outside of me,
Like the thin layer
Of frost
That dances lightly
Before collapsing onto the
Ancient windows of
My two door Oldsmobile.
I carry you above me,
Your presence as big as the
Wide open sky,
Yet also as unattainable.
Reaching above,
My fingers stretch out to grasp
You, but instead
Are met with the vacant
Feeling of air
Drifting between my
Clammy palms.
I carry you beneath me,
Supporting my
Staggering steps
As I drag my heavy feet across the
Uneven ground.
I carry you with me.
                                                                                   MB.

It has been
seven months, and i
still don't like nature anymore
because it isn't filled with
the branches from your ribs and
the fallen leaves from
your head. I can't
look outside without
craving every part of
your forest in ways i can't seem to
quantify in tear ridden pieces of
paper i always threw away.

Every inch of your bones is
made from the richest soil that i
yearn to plant my dying flowers in, but they just
never seem to
grow as much as you wanted, and i
am sorry. I can never apologize enough for
the countless hours i
wasted trying to find patterns in
your twigs that were always going to
be random. I have always found
hope in the littlest things,
especially the way you said my name
in a tone only Shakespeare
could have described.

It has been a while since
you visited my garden. My meadows
are now filled with
the weeds stemming from the stained
words you said to me that
last night. I always thought
you'd be the one to provide
sunshine to my plants,
but i always mistook your burning
hands for the Sun i suppose.

Now your memory is like a
fog that i can't run away from,
and no matter how many times i
pound at my dirt and
fertilize my trees with other sources,
I seem to only grow from
you.

-MB

There is no honest answer.
Worlds fall from our wind-chapped lips
Like marbles, heavy on our tongues,
Hitting the ground with a muffled splat,
As we fumble on all fours trying to retrieve them.

There is no honest answer.
We push and shove our muddled consciences, unprotected, into  a dark alleyway
Full of lost chances and half hearted embraces.
Until there is nothing left but a small hollow pang in the bottom of our guts.

There is no honest answer.
Openly, we ask others what we are too afraid to ask ourselves, even in the private of our own minds.
Truth sits at the bottom of our flouncy ideals and broken promises,
Like the last drops of 2% milk,
That only come out of the carton once it's lying face down on the dumpster floor.
There is no honest answer.
                                                                                   MB.

Growl growl ru
mb
le rumble gro
wl

(my belly protests my healthy
lifestyle)

This wont be a poem, it's an actual conversation of me venting out how I feel

You always tell me to ****

because you need to ****, its in the past

i cant okay because I'm so ******* confused on everything.I feel like such a **** up nobody wants me and i feel like everything i do always ends up ****** and all i want is you tbh i cant even think of kissing someone and idk how it happened with C i was just having a good time and
M's ex was right
everything he says about me is right and i just I don't know but his favorite thing was to call me a stupid freak or a giraffe legged ***** so
and honestly all of those are right
"I see why your boyfriend dump you"
I see it too
and i just
I'm sorry
I'm a mess
I'm sorry

Stop

*i really shouldn't pour out on you
you have your own stuff and i know I'm probably stress
i cant do anything right
there has to be a reason everyone leaves me and i know its always me
MB hated me because I'd always get upset so easily and I'd cause "drama"
my last boyfriend couldn't handle that I was damaged and i thought you would stay and i know you want to fix your life
but
****
I'm sorry
Im sorry i **** things up and break down so easily
I'm sorry I'm really sorry
i feel like every guy i date only wants me to pass time or to try and **** me and that's awful because i know it might not be true but
I cant even trust myself to stay happy
who says i can trust a guy not to hurt me and to top it all off I'm so scared you'll see what i see wrong in me and what M's ex did and ill lose you
or you'll find someone else and i wont know and you'll just slowly stop responding and stop caring
because they're prettier and you can see them
or you actually love them and not me and it hurts because i get in my head
I love you.

doctor says take a pill everyday and you’ll start to feel like yourself again.
normal even.

day 1 pill 1. i don’t seem to feel any different. do i? maybe i do? i don’t know.
day 8 pill 7. i missed a dose and felt nothing maybe these pills don’t really have an affect.
day 14 pill 13. i’m feeling happier. it’s good to feel this way again.
day 20 pill 19. i’m possibly euphoric.
day 32 pill 30. missing a pill makes my head feel woozy.
day 49 pill 47. happiness is a chemical influence. i’ve been feeling numb towards the worst of situations.
day 63 pill 61. i have mastered the art of losing. losing to these little white drugs taking over my mind and body day by day. i feel helpless against my attackers.
day 64 pill 62. this ecstatic behaviour is not normal. my mind is filled with thoughts that cannot get expressed. my body expresses my happiness but not my fear, my pain or my anger.
day 65 pill 63. i definitely feel different. no ifs and or buts, i most certainly feel different. is it a good type of different though?
day 66 pill 63. i’ve missed a dose again, but this time on purpose. i refuse to take another pill. my mind is gone and my body is deteriorating with it.
day 132 pill 63. i am myself again. This is me, i may not be the definition of perfection, but bit by bit i’ve realized no one can be. not everyone is like this. maybe i'm one of the lucky ones.

-mb

I sat still - motionless as you spoke
I felt the numbness - the warm tears as I choked
I couldn't explain the stop of time - it was still
My head exploded; it felt like a drilled
I should consider taking a pill
No wait, don't take too many, it may ****

You were screaming; but stopped at a quieter tone
I couldn't believe what I was hearing, it was interrupted by the phone
Did you just admit to an affair?
I don't believe it, when is life ever fair?

You explained to me that you never meant to hurt
What do I do?  Do I call you a ****?
Who does this to a woman they love?
You try to hammer home that through all this, there was love

You talked about this relationship you had ..
She claims it was for more than a year
You talked of the excitement ... of feeling like a boy
She claims she love you and wanted to be your *** toy
I asked if you loved her and you no or maybe you don't know
But in that same line you admitted, she said "say it", and you did as you moved slow
You said you are one that can say "I love you" and not mean it
It makes me cringe at the thought, I no longer want to hear it
Because you are the type that plays it and still want to hear it

You talked about your break up and the way you were shuck-up
I asked it there is any possibility that you and her would make-up
You said you thought about it and you never wanted more than ***
But your actions are contrary after I saw the 44.5MB of text

Who are you kidding - me?  or yourself?
You are emotionally involved and you can not see beyond it
The investment of months ...there were more that twelve
The eager anticipation, the truck-****, the ego stroke
Why do you not feel guilty of what was taken from me?
Am I going crazy or is this your narcissistic entitlement?
I am eager to set you free, let's move forward with a settlement

If it is not bad enough that you played us for a year
I am now looking for reasons to eat away your fear
Who shacks up with a woman who has three kids
When you own kid is thirty at home, she needs help from a shrink
When asked what she wanted - her answer was overwhelming to connect with her Dad
But all you ever do when you are around is make us sad

After 21 years of marriage - I discovered on Christmas Eve that my husband lied for a year  - he was having an affair!
I watched in despair as he presented a list of my blunder
All I can think of is, I've been living with an imposter
Who does this to a woman and then tell her that they love her?
Are you bunkers or crazy - or is this your plot to destroy her?

The reflections were horrible
You inviting her, her husband and 3  children to our home was terrible
Who brings infidelity in a home and wraps it as a special guest
As you watched your wife run around to feed the guest
You praise yourself as the champion in the work place
You think you are the trophy Dad, but you complete your duty with distaste
I sat with counsellor and hear you talk about our space
There were mention of ***, as you explain in bad taste
We had *** 14 times in 2014
As you justified your needs of 2015

Was it my struggle with cancer
I will never know what is the clear answer
I have since asked myself a million times
What did I do to make you feel I deserve all your lies
I was busy being mom and filling the blanks of your empty space
I ran around cutting the grass, cooking the food and driving our kid all in good grace
You said, you were stressed and need space
I did all I can to make sense of our emotional maze.

.
                                    A
                              m  mb  m
                            b      i t       b
                           i        i o         i
                          t          n           t
                           i       A   m       i
                            o     b     i       o
                             n     t    i      n
                               A    o n    A
                                  m  *  m

a[ɛ]m I going psychotic in my dA̲[ɛ]mn mind
or ma[ɛ]nkind is on a deranged ride
[in fact, I prefer the word "humankind", but it doesn't fit with the rhyme pattern]
on an armored train? like that power-cray
North Korean son of a bo[ɑ]mb afraid
of his own go[ɑ]ddamn shadow, for it, ju[ɪ]st like
this *****#cking fatso's order, is quite
terrible; on a reckless ride that's
go[ʌ]nna take
the highly developed kind back
fro[ʌ]m the age
of reason to the uncivilized past's
darksome days
["dark somedays"]
(probably the latter)
————————————————————————————————
should be in a mental asylum watched over (why?)
off my "meds" like some iron-grip jE̲rkwad
[the meds were mostly video games]
in power striking a wA̲r up
an indescribable U̲rge to wreak destruction & ******
[mostly lyrically]
as if I were a horse-riding enforcer of the Apo[ɑ]calypse or a
jihadist supporter of the IslA̲mist new order
heading to a spot with the public galO̲re to
turn up at; I'm highly avE̲rse to
autocracy, but tyrant-like to[—]ward a kindergartner-like verser
half-a## writers, conformers, & allies of usurpers
better put on something fire-sound or go underground
like the Camorra or Johaness Arnesson, fO̲r I
["for I" is supposed to be read/pronounced as "fora"]
[Camorra is a part of the underworld]
[Johannes Arnesson (Owl Vision) makes underground type of electronic music]
am, like when a living victim's hide's being bU̲rned to
muscles by a hob O̲r a cutting blowpipe, a fierce torcher
["torture"]
and if there were, like Ivan the Fourth, a
terrible tsar & a murker, like a hitman satisfying hit orders
[the reign of Ivan the Terrible is infamous for, inter alia, tortures]
for me to take my pick like a **** 𝑓𝑜[ɔ]𝑡𝑘𝑎
["pic."]
I'd, like the wight-like equine rider
direct my sight on the former (scythe); you hardly can stI̲r up
[Death, the pale one of the 4 horsemen of the Apocalypse]
a spark, I've come to the taiga & stI̲rred up
a violent inferno; while in the wilds, I've discerned a
couple of male old-timers encircled
by some guards & cam workers; a fire fiend, for the
restless mind is like a flamethrower
which this corruption-plagued world su—
—pplies with fuel like a "Flying J" servo
don't get this wrong, I can't be bothered re[eɪ]
which kai is fave by which state, but I'm afraid
autocracy is, in the China vein, on the rise today (on the rice)
but, for the sake of a fighter plane
laying f#cking waste to a ride or train
with an autocratic ******* aboard
what is a singular someO̲ne that ain't
a well-savvy hacktivist nor
a sick gunfighter, like Max Payne
to do when the disbalance between a civil society
and a regime in some abysmal auto[ɑ]cracy
is so grave there's nothing safe
and rock-solid, like a tungsten *****
to do to undermine this state
of affairs? apply the cre[i]do of yours
to whatever at which you are versed
that's why I'm engaged in my anti-autocratic rhyme crusade
[previously to this one: "punishment of an autocrat"; "надвигался 2022-ой" ➔]
[➔ "a couple of words for dictators" & anti-authoritarian fragments ➔]
[➔ of some other rhyme pieces published by me]
I might lO̲O̲k to be an evil-minded skate
now, but, seizing the opportunity
like some viced ***** gained
a role O̲f a rU̲ler with
an unchecked political might & aimed
at establishing a tight-grip reign inside the state
there's something I'd like to say
I hhhooock... thooo... spit on tyrants' graves
and graves of their compliant aides
without the slightest shame, I, like a crane for construction, raze
["raise"]
their heads—tones by a mace from the knightly age
bet taphophiles ain't gonna like the way
in which I behave; ones who're enviro-cray
better get fire squa[ɑ]ds awake like a rite that takes
place after someone's life has waned
wholly (a wake), 'cause I get mY̲ hands laid
on a pulverizer with spirits of wine & spray
it on those scheissers' grave—yards, then make
'em go, like the face of someone laughing so wildly they
are about to split their sides, ablaze
and I've barely gotten underway
lyrics-wise, I'm gonna give a harsh time
to a power-blinded, nazissistic go[ɑ]bshite
a sort of tea party which you'll no[ɑ]t like
'cause there's a billypo[ɑ]t rife with steaming splo[ɑ]sh I've
got in the pipeline, like oil, & will be pleased to slo[ɑ]sh right
into your filthy mug, swine, so here's a piece of a[ɑ]dvice
better get equipped with some wipes
and something chilling, much like
a horror game when you sit without lights
and with earphones on in the middle o[ʌ]f night
it may seem now as if I'm a kitchen cart guy
and you're at an eating spo[ɑ]t (why?)
'cause you're about to get served
scuzz, I'ma strike
a lyrical skewer through your mouth & your stern
just like a swine
————————————————————————————————
it is night-time, like the pre-enlightenment E̲[i]poch, but I'm
["knight time"]
like a ballista sho[ɑ]t flyi[—]ng
the target's way, in the open air & quite away
like an anthracite aflame/ablaze
["(a) vay" (Malagasy) - "(a) glowing coal"]
nearby the gates of your sublime estate
a mite ashamed to say this, but I might be ta'en
for the Russian state or the "Hamas" brigade (why?)
these premises are like Ukraine
or Israel, respectively, inasmuch as they
are gonna be violated sI̲m. to a victim of a ******; finna
penetrate your villa like the agent Fisher
[Sam Fisher from the "Splintel Cell" videogame series]
which is gonna be made much quicker
than you, a[ɛ]nxious geezer, would make a lady stimu—lated I̲nto
the ****** state; your security system & lights are way
like a surgeon who's armless, they no longer o[ɑ]perate (ha-ha)
'cause I have an EMP device in play; the weather, by the way
is trash, raining, just like Hussein in his presiding days (trash, reigning)
but your cap-cladded daw[ɑ]gs remain
outside despite that & an adage Russians say
that a dog keeper that is mindful ain't
gonna let his dogs be outside at the time it rains
or when some other weather that's bad becomes the case
but thA̲t's, un—like the sign that's made
of metal & acts A̲s an
indication that it's a co[ɑ]p you face
not a bother; like a register that has an
["buzzer", in the sense of "police badge"]
abundant range
of info about a vile regime's pieces of crap having
rank slides, such as their addies, mug sho[ɑ]ts, & names
a specialist, the black-cladded
["special list"]
crusader from the Norsefire-tyrannized UK
in the Guy Fawkes mask strapped with
[V from "V For Vendetta"]
a blowgun with darts, like the pirate claimed
the title of an assassin
[Edward Kenway from "Assassin's Creed IV: Black Flag"]
by which I sedate those diletta[ɑ]nte[—]s ordained
to guard your place as I slyly make my go[ɑ]ddamn way
forth like a farcE̲U̲r coming out
of behind the stage
lock pick the door of your house
then walk inside like a pro[ɑ]mena[eɪ]de (walking site)
while touring around
the pretty so[ɑ]lid place
of yours, I encoun—
—ter your do[ɑ]xy draped
with a corse[—]let-like towel
not far away from the room in which you shower, bathe
with her bo[ɑ]dy shape, to one whose mind's unchaste
she's like a va—cant front seat to one whose sight's debased
hard not to try & take; but, given the time & place, I try to stay
away from these broad thoughts like an ex-****-bawd (thots)
besides your inviting bae
like a ship-parking space nearby a pirate-obliging place
["inviting bay"]
I descry your maid nearby the kitchen-dinette; they
both get tranquilized, like someO̲ne who came
for a massage, & chained to pillars of a ba[ɑ]lustrade
with their gobs sealed with parcel tape
arrived a mite hungry, so I knife a slice
off of an icebox pie I came bY̲ inside
the fridge of yours, then eat it sE̲rved on
your high-cost plate
using your silver fork &
your table knife engraved
with a rhomb grid adornment
(some would think you're a perfectionist, like me when I undertake)
(rhyming like an Eastern person)
["ramen"]
(but, in accordance with what my mindset says)
(it's more likely you're just pretty corny)
(like rappers whose lines display their consumerism-governed brains)
(and whose body of rhymes is shaped in an unenticing way)
once the meal's finished, like a rival/fighter slain
in a "Mortal Ko[ɑ]mbat" fray, I leave your tableware defiled, same
as that pious place, in which ***** Riot made
a protest performance
pU̲t on, like that unashamed
co[ɑ]cky, a la desert soldiers
["khaki"]
autocratic swine that reigns in the north-east mo[ɑ]bster state
some high-octane tunes fro[ʌ]m a play—
—list of mine, then start to make your hideaway
[it's supposed that the EMP effect has gone by this time, so electronics are able to function]
look like it faced the wildest rave that mustered skates
who have, like a wrE̲cking ball
a disorganizing trait
towards stuff that's ta[ɛ]ngible
and are prone to territory-marking, same
as what's done by a[ɛ]nimals
or bY̲ street ga[ɛ]ngs
quite an effortful
jo[ɑ]b awaits your unlucky maid
or whoever you're gonna choose to invite & pay
in order to neutralize the may—hem caused by my stay
————————————————————————————————
such a misfortune you, A̲##hole
are away from your glorious castle
which is, like a brutal ******
that you are, looking nO̲[ɑ]t so
["nutso"]
glorious now if you look insI̲de, *** (ha-ha)
you stupid ****̲teball, ***** you, li̲ke bolts