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"misbehave" poems
The likes of you I can't describe, Yet I love to eat between your thighs. The melody you spake to me Unfolds my greatest sovereignty. I crave to quaff all of your spit, And swallow every drop of it. Don't cheat me of your tasty flesh, Those bare and supple ****** ******* Your eyes that follow my firm gaze, While we kiss and lick and misbehave. I need to feel each piece of skin, Smashing girl and boy parts over and over again. It's such a treat to eat you whole; I'm obsessed with eating 19-year-olds.
0
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 9:32 PM UTC
Nineteen
we write because we are told we write because we are cold so why write poetry? is it to obey is it to simply misbehave is it due today is it more than what we say if not why do you write poetry? because I can & because I am we are made to feel we are made to speak some people are quiet and others are bleak words are expressive and alive but some words are best left to die
0
Jul 6, 2018
Jul 6, 2018 at 10:50 PM UTC
silent poet society
During her blood moon was the best time to make her moan, make her legs shake and weak, Feel her scratch down my arms and peel up my skin Only 3 days it would last but during those periods... she would release multiple times With the red moons spawn a bear in the woods would evolve, hunting her flood through a blessed disaster finding what I was after, in a late night spatter Her finger tips hiding the stake in my pants, she'll soon be riding In these moments I feel a crave, a longing to misbehave, Within blankets and sheets we inhabit this cave Our leveled off breathing will not reveal harm Take shelter in the warm of more than apparent and reside until morning in the arms of the inherent
0
Apr 22, 2018
Apr 22, 2018 at 4:19 PM UTC
Blood moon [Explicit]
Mom, your hugs are magical They are wondering me always, Make me cool and happy Your hugs are the cure when I'm upset They melt my body, mind, and soul. I need more hugs from you every day, To grow into a secure individual And bubbling with confidence. Mom, your hugs care for me I would be a piece of your heart You will be always here for me Your hugs make my life smart. You promptly correct me if I misbehave Ma, your love is unconditional to me. Mom, have you hugged me today? Have you forgotten my need? Mom, I miss you, I need your hugs Every night, every morning, all the day...
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Oct 21, 2017
Oct 21, 2017 at 12:17 PM UTC
Mom, I Need Your Hugs
Use me and abuse me I love it when I’m all you see Please be my Queen I’ll gladly bow on my knees Treat me like a slave Punish me when i misbehave Tell me that I’m nothing While calling me at 4 am because you “want me” Let me follow you around I promise not to make too much sound I want your punishment and praise I want to wait on you hand and foot when you just want to laze. I want you to tie me up And tell me that I’m just your little pup And that puppies who don’t follow the rules And just like jesters and fools. And need to be punished by their Queen Until their voice is raw with screams.
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Dec 30, 2017
Dec 30, 2017 at 3:42 AM UTC
To My Domme
(On her canvas, brushes will cross; he, the art of loving the loss) Notice, nod, smile make strange worth her while. Stand, wink, wave break poise, misbehave. Give first free of charge and by last; indemnify. Attain room without barge -wend, strain, stratify.
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Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 4:39 AM UTC
The Art of Loving the Loss (The Impression)
Lisbeth stands watching The artist as he prepares To sketch. Her elder sisters Stand in shadows whispering. Her younger sister plays With her doll on the floor. Their father said to do as The artist instructed and Don’t misbehave or be rude. The artist stares hard his Dark eyes searching their Every move and expression And body gesture. The elder Girls mutter in shadows Their hands over their mouths Their blue eyes like shallow Pools. Ready? The artist Asks putting charcoal to Paper his fingers blackening. Lisbeth says just as we are? The artist nods. His grim Features express do not disturb. The youngest sister plays Ignoring the artist her eyes set On the game at hand. The girls In shadow turn their profiles Set to mystery their hands on Their abdomens like guardians Of virtue. Lisbeth wonders as She watches the artist’s stiff Moustache and beard the slow Movement of his mouth as he Mouths words and stares hard. The last artist employed some Year before younger and less Brutal in expression and manner Had drawn them each in private Rooms and set them down on couch Or bed and kept their images inside His head. He was dismissed and the Drawings destroyed and nothing said. Lisbeth had thought it just a game Something done as lover might in Private corners or lonely spots on Quiet nights. The artist sketches. His blackened fingers move and Made their mark. Their images Captured. The scene set. One sister In the shadows yawns the other Stares in still contempt. Lisbeth Poses as young girls do. Nothing To show of interest and nothing Hid no secret self no other you. That’s it the artist says we’ll begin The painting another day maybe Next week if all is well. The girls In shadow look away and resume Their secret games. Lisbeth studies The artist’s blackened fingers as He rolls the charcoal sketch and Puts away. He gazes at her standing By herself a glimpse of smile and Glimmer in her eyes like small fires. He closes the tired lids of eyes And smoulders down his old desires.
0
Apr 19, 2012
Apr 19, 2012 at 8:26 AM UTC
LISBETH AND THE ARTIST.
Lisbeth stands watching The artist as he prepares To sketch. Her elder sisters Stand in shadows whispering. Her younger sister plays With her doll on the floor. Their father said to do as The artist instructed and Don’t misbehave or be rude. The artist stares hard his Dark eyes searching their Every move and expression And body gesture. The elder Girls mutter in shadows Their hands over their mouths Their blue eyes like shallow Pools. Ready? The artist Asks putting charcoal to Paper his fingers blackening. Lisbeth says just as we are? The artist nods. His grim Features express do not disturb. The youngest sister plays Ignoring the artist her eyes set On the game at hand. The girls In shadow turn their profiles Set to mystery their hands on Their abdomens like guardians Of virtue. Lisbeth wonders as She watches the artist’s stiff Moustache and beard the slow Movement of his mouth as he Mouths words and stares hard. The last artist employed some Year before younger and less Brutal in expression and manner Had drawn them each in private Rooms and set them down on couch Or bed and kept their images inside His head. He was dismissed and the Drawings destroyed and nothing said. Lisbeth had thought it just a game Something done as lover might in Private corners or lonely spots on Quiet nights. The artist sketches. His blackened fingers move and Made their mark. Their images Captured. The scene set. One sister In the shadows yawns the other Stares in still contempt. Lisbeth Poses as young girls do. Nothing To show of interest and nothing Hid no secret self no other you. That’s it the artist says we’ll begin The painting another day maybe Next week if all is well. The girls In shadow look away and resume Their secret games. Lisbeth studies The artist’s blackened fingers as He rolls the charcoal sketch and Puts away. He gazes at her standing By herself a glimpse of smile and Glimmer in her eyes like small fires. He closes the tired lids of eyes And smoulders down his old desires.
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65
I'm always hungry even though I just ate a while ago If I go without food for 2 hours my brain works kinda slow I eat all the time, even when I'm driving I wonder how it'll be to eat when I'm sky diving But there's a particular food that I always crave And if I don't get it, I tend to misbehave It's amazing and delicious, my favorite cake I'd go to any lengths for it, no matter what the stake I'd eat it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner I'd marry a pâtissier even if he was a sinner When it comes to cake I show an utmost devotion My bucket list includes having cake by the ocean But something happened this summer, which makes me tremble in fear And now when someone says "Cake" I tend not to go near I was in Spain, and I was looking for some cake I was whining and crying; my friend ignorantly sipped her milkshake So I walked on ahead and finally found a baker I paused my music; I was listening to Chet Faker I walked over to him and shouted "I WANT CAKE" He looked at his buddies and said, "This is the one we take" The baker and Co. suddenly picked me up; I was too scared to shout I just wanted my cake and I had no idea what this was about I tried to escape but it proved to be rather hard My friend had no idea I was missing; she was looking for an SD card I didn't wanna think about what might happen, I just wanted to go home The men had brought me to an outhouse that had a ceiling shaped like a dome Then they placed me down gently, and were almost too polite I turned around once I could finally stand and couldn't believe the sight A crowd was waiting at the back, just waiting to yell "Surprise!" A man shouted: "You fools! You brought the wrong girl, she isn't even the same size" They apologized profusely, but honestly I couldn't care less I just wanted to have my cake and get away from this mess I walked back past the bakers shop and heard something that gave me déjà vu "I want cake" said a tall girl; she smiled at me, she didn't have a clue
0
Jul 6, 2018
Jul 6, 2018 at 6:58 AM UTC
I Want Cake
I'm always hungry even though I just ate a while ago If I go without food for 2 hours my brain works kinda slow I eat all the time, even when I'm driving I wonder how it'll be to eat when I'm sky diving But there's a particular food that I always crave And if I don't get it, I tend to misbehave It's amazing and delicious, my favorite cake I'd go to any lengths for it, no matter what the stake I'd eat it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner I'd marry a pâtissier even if he was a sinner When it comes to cake I show an utmost devotion My bucket list includes having cake by the ocean But something happened this summer, which makes me tremble in fear And now when someone says "Cake" I tend not to go near I was in Spain, and I was looking for some cake I was whining and crying; my friend ignorantly sipped her milkshake So I walked on ahead and finally found a baker I paused my music; I was listening to Chet Faker I walked over to him and shouted "I WANT CAKE" He looked at his buddies and said, "This is the one we take" The baker and Co. suddenly picked me up; I was too scared to shout I just wanted my cake and I had no idea what this was about I tried to escape but it proved to be rather hard My friend had no idea I was missing; she was looking for an SD card I didn't wanna think about what might happen, I just wanted to go home The men had brought me to an outhouse that had a ceiling shaped like a dome Then they placed me down gently, and were almost too polite I turned around once I could finally stand and couldn't believe the sight A crowd was waiting at the back, just waiting to yell "Surprise!" A man shouted: "You fools! You brought the wrong girl, she isn't even the same size" They apologized profusely, but honestly I couldn't care less I just wanted to have my cake and get away from this mess I walked back past the bakers shop and heard something that gave me déjà vu "I want cake" said a tall girl; she smiled at me, she didn't have a clue
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34
Justin Bieber is no big deal I’m not even sure he is real. He started out as pretty decent Have you seen anything recent? He looks like a kid who is trying To join the gang but is only crying; Sitting on the sidelines sniffling. Dressed up in gang stuff and everything. Poor baby Justin, as rich as a king Isn’t quite satisfied owning everything Has to cover up his body with tattoos Like all the real-life gang members do. Wears a hat too big for him all sideways Plays in the sandbox where big kids play. Wants to look all gangster and rough But looking like a lesbian makes it tough. Poor Baby Biebs with his millions of fans Three pairs of underwear and baggy pants Grinning like he’s bashful, we know he’s not. Far too often he has proved himself a snot. Some of us were worried when he was a kid. We worried nobody was careful of what he did. So Baby Justin Bieber is a bit of a wreck Sort of like the words crawling up his neck. Justin Bieber makes the young girls scream. They don’t care he’s not the angel he seems. If only he would misbehave with them, they think. They’d let him act the fool, smoke and stink. Because, after all, when you’re a teen-aged star It doesn’t really matter just how fake you are. The thing is be to be fashionable the youthful way And let them get a glimpse of you every day.
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Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 5:36 AM UTC
JUSTIN BIEBER
The oceanic wind did not rescind but instead it found its form. Gathering in strength and gaining much in length at the centre of the storm. Building attitude it would not exclude from the frigate sailing true. But with its destination now a defication the seas discarded with the crew. Land-Ho, it came, did this hurricane bringing with it such a wave. Like none had ever seen was this water screen that was bound to misbehave. Throwing all aside like an unruly bride who was aiming to get her way. And what lay ahead was a heap of dead as the big one came to play. On its way inward it had done no good to the vessells on the sea. Throwing craft around and causing men to drown it wasn't going to let them be. Breaching many shores like unruly ****** the waves would spread there grisly pox. From the nearest beach to the out of reach destination of inland docks. Catastrophe - spelt with a capital C was the headlines in the news. Every seaside place had a weary face that was filmed by camera crews. People died that day many swept away as the nearest towns did flood. Even tracks were failing with the trains derailing while water washed away the blood.   Many homes were wrecked as they did disconect and the oceans did divorce. With those like you and me as they watched TV as the waters swam there course. Many got up high and watched their fellows die on this day that would not be. Forgotten very soon as before high noon we were dismantled by the sea. It's all over now and we will somehow continue with our lives. We'll bury our dead and we'll count the heads of our lost husbands and wives. They'll be laid to rest and we'll then invest in the massive clear away. But when that wind gets up it'll hit us in the gut but all we can do is pray. The world cannot be tamed and does not feel ashamed when it strikes from out of the blue. However we prepare nature doesn't care and will do what it must do. We think we're in control but we're just on parole from what nature has to throw. And we'll hope that day never comes our way but we can never really know.
0
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 7:51 PM UTC
We can never really know!
The oceanic wind did not rescind but instead it found its form. Gathering in strength and gaining much in length at the centre of the storm. Building attitude it would not exclude from the frigate sailing true. But with its destination now a defication the seas discarded with the crew. Land-Ho, it came, did this hurricane bringing with it such a wave. Like none had ever seen was this water screen that was bound to misbehave. Throwing all aside like an unruly bride who was aiming to get her way. And what lay ahead was a heap of dead as the big one came to play. On its way inward it had done no good to the vessells on the sea. Throwing craft around and causing men to drown it wasn't going to let them be. Breaching many shores like unruly ****** the waves would spread there grisly pox. From the nearest beach to the out of reach destination of inland docks. Catastrophe - spelt with a capital C was the headlines in the news. Every seaside place had a weary face that was filmed by camera crews. People died that day many swept away as the nearest towns did flood. Even tracks were failing with the trains derailing while water washed away the blood.   Many homes were wrecked as they did disconect and the oceans did divorce. With those like you and me as they watched TV as the waters swam there course. Many got up high and watched their fellows die on this day that would not be. Forgotten very soon as before high noon we were dismantled by the sea. It's all over now and we will somehow continue with our lives. We'll bury our dead and we'll count the heads of our lost husbands and wives. They'll be laid to rest and we'll then invest in the massive clear away. But when that wind gets up it'll hit us in the gut but all we can do is pray. The world cannot be tamed and does not feel ashamed when it strikes from out of the blue. However we prepare nature doesn't care and will do what it must do. We think we're in control but we're just on parole from what nature has to throw. And we'll hope that day never comes our way but we can never really know.
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28
To the blushing bride to be, This rite of passage you’ll not be spared. Let your hair down, be wild and free, Allow your tales and secrets to be bared. Not designed for hearts too weak, This night’s when us girls misbehave. In our tutus, fairy wings and pink feather boas, We’ll paint the town red and rave. We’re like one dysfunctional family, But we’ll bond and shout tonight. Cocktails and Prosecco will flow freely, As we dance the “Macarena” ‘til morning light. We’ll have a blast and be merry, For girls just want to have fun. Adorned with “L” plates, you won’t stay sober And your makeup will inevitably run. On this, your last night of freedom, It’s your final fling before the wedding ring. Your head may be sore tomorrow, But, oh, the stories these walls could sing! Remember this night always, With all your girlfriends at your side, For you’ll soon tie the knot and be married And embark on a magical ride.
0
Mar 26, 2021
Mar 26, 2021 at 1:05 AM UTC
A poem for a hen party
My skin is p a  l e My body c o ld      And in my chest lies a broken heart of fools gold My re alit  y   I  on ce knew is ha z  y    a nd n on exist en  t It's grown old      And I'm becoming tired of being bold And being told right from wrong       I'm sinking softly down when I don't know how to swim   Every inch that I further lose from possibility to stay afloat is lessening my want or need for a life boat     Every breath I attempt to take fills my lungs with ugly pseudonyms and sends me down deeper into my lonesome underpopulated town inhabited only by fragments of once strong relationships that i held so close to me that I c ould n't  b reat h e, the relationships that kept my entire being from sinking in the first place.    I'm drowning and I can't see what's even in front of me        I'm a ship bound by anchor to the wrong bad habits of shedding my   blood willingly to bloodthirsty ravenous sharks in the sea of my minds eye        This was once a safe harbor for the ones I kept close   The ones that knew what mattered to me and the ones I cherished most       Now its a sea full of  gh o sts Of the people I trusted them the most     I trusted them to not turn on me or use me like a host And now I'm the one  dro w ning I' m    so  sca re      d    Now when I share my harbor it feels so     U    n    fa    i r         They don't understand what I risk give to let them be there It never harbors in their heart as deeply as it does mine      The possibility of even defining how hard it is to let these ships safely     pass through this harbor will now and forever never be able to escape  my pale numbing lips     Only silence Everything here is just riddled with murderous crashing waves    Any relationship that enters I try so desperately to save      And in that attempt   The harbor starts to misbehave             The waves destroy every boat or anything that floats   Anything at all to help me cope with being so alone or the feeling of even remotely being at home.       My fingertips are numb and cold and starting to fold and I can't feel those things I could before I just want all of this over N o    m   o re   dro w n    i n          g All my life boats have sunk     Now I'm just stuck      All these hands and graves are grabbing at me and pulling me down        ev ery   whi ch     wa y  at  the     bott om of the oce an u  nd   er      al l th e s     e        h e   a     v y                waves.
0
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 6:46 PM UTC
Shipwreck
My skin is p a  l e My body c o ld      And in my chest lies a broken heart of fools gold My re alit  y   I  on ce knew is ha z  y    a nd n on exist en  t It's grown old      And I'm becoming tired of being bold And being told right from wrong       I'm sinking softly down when I don't know how to swim   Every inch that I further lose from possibility to stay afloat is lessening my want or need for a life boat     Every breath I attempt to take fills my lungs with ugly pseudonyms and sends me down deeper into my lonesome underpopulated town inhabited only by fragments of once strong relationships that i held so close to me that I c ould n't  b reat h e, the relationships that kept my entire being from sinking in the first place.    I'm drowning and I can't see what's even in front of me        I'm a ship bound by anchor to the wrong bad habits of shedding my   blood willingly to bloodthirsty ravenous sharks in the sea of my minds eye        This was once a safe harbor for the ones I kept close   The ones that knew what mattered to me and the ones I cherished most       Now its a sea full of  gh o sts Of the people I trusted them the most     I trusted them to not turn on me or use me like a host And now I'm the one  dro w ning I' m    so  sca re      d    Now when I share my harbor it feels so     U    n    fa    i r         They don't understand what I risk give to let them be there It never harbors in their heart as deeply as it does mine      The possibility of even defining how hard it is to let these ships safely     pass through this harbor will now and forever never be able to escape  my pale numbing lips     Only silence Everything here is just riddled with murderous crashing waves    Any relationship that enters I try so desperately to save      And in that attempt   The harbor starts to misbehave             The waves destroy every boat or anything that floats   Anything at all to help me cope with being so alone or the feeling of even remotely being at home.       My fingertips are numb and cold and starting to fold and I can't feel those things I could before I just want all of this over N o    m   o re   dro w n    i n          g All my life boats have sunk     Now I'm just stuck      All these hands and graves are grabbing at me and pulling me down        ev ery   whi ch     wa y  at  the     bott om of the oce an u  nd   er      al l th e s     e        h e   a     v y                waves.
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44
Irreplaceable you, Drifting into my world With so little a care As the heat of the evening Turned into a sordid affair Irreplaceable you, Riding me gently, tamer Of heavy waves Tangled together in shadows -- For you, I’ll always misbehave Irreplaceable you, Slipping from my grasp And into another’s  -- Trembling toward your kiss Tell me I’m your only lover Irreplaceable you, But replaceable me Left to wilt at the shoreline While you sailed off to sea.
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Apr 14, 2017
Apr 14, 2017 at 6:55 PM UTC
irreplaceable you
I used to call them brave, the people who would misbehave but it was destiny one day I would become like these kids broken and alone, not feeling loved or happy the bond between those youngsters was unbreakable blood is thicker than water is what the old people say but it in their case the water had won some people call them tiger stripes others choose words like battle wounds you always called it beautiful but for me it was a curse something I could never stop demons whispering in my ear the devil loves pretending he always seems to care and for me that was enough.
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Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 5:25 PM UTC
tiger stripes
Go back to your violent grace Your elegant waste Your newspaper paste Trained tweaker taste It’s all good It’s all legal after all But the future is moving Too slow at a rapid pace When the rabid ones Are not free to die An every electrical device Unmoving, ruins your life Soon the candles won’t burn fire And the night will tame all desire Slave to light sockets Which were paid for from your pocket You’re walking on a street of waves An even dead trees somehow misbehave When on every corner, inside them all There’s the dearest, faintest, little hum Yeah, there’s always an end to this But knowing them they’ll ruin it Do a down periscope on your soul Is there anywhere left to go That’s not gridlocked or sold Well, now I really know The worst is yet to come
0
Nov 19, 2011
Nov 19, 2011 at 8:35 PM UTC
The Hum
Come away with me, I know the perfect place. A starless night where I can't see your face. Surrounded by the death and decay of centuries past, A place where I can bury us at last. We'll consummate our hatred on consecrated ground An epitaph, screamed into the void of the night is the only sound. We'll shatter the peace of the dead as our bodies clash Our hearts, kindling, our flesh, the flint, we'll strike together and burn it to ash. Open yourself to me, time for one last round. Look into my eyes while I pound you into the ground. Scream my name while I use your body to misbehave. I'm going to hate-fuck this love, straight to the grave.
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May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 12:12 PM UTC
I Hate-Fuck You
I love you my teacher This love is forbidden So I'm keeping it hidden My heart is calling your name You became its aim If you knew my inside You'll be angry I'll have no place to hide Can we marry? Can you take me in your arms? Only one time Give me a lot of warm After that I'll be fine Forgive me, please Losing you isn't that ease Don't leave, give me safe Give me happiness Without you I would misbehave Don't leave my princess
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Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 3:17 AM UTC
Forbidden Love
Yeah I totally understand When you delete all of My social networking sites Yeah I completely sympathize When you go all overprotective Parent on my *** Yeah It's a shame When I defy your rule so I can fit into the nest of popular Yeah I utterly hate it When nothing goes your way And your children misbehave Yeah I despise it too When people lie Kind of like I am doing right At This Moment Yeah I know I am faking understanding But I won't for long
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Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 6:26 PM UTC
understanding
Voices and dark shadows they follow my every which way Demons wont leave me they beg me to misbehave I've been there and done that That bridge not meant to be crossed cant turn back now felt the heat and fire behind me suffocating and gasping for air i clinch unto my locks as strands drizzle down my breast Darkness bestowed upon me i attempt to move ahead Speed up just a bit just to feel alright blinded by the light Hindered by wall blocks and mountains of stairs I'm not free Lost in captivity of self Self worth Self Loathe Self Awareness Self Growth Love yourself , The world is cold   Not everyone is your Woe , Yet More like a foe
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Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 3:08 PM UTC
Cold World, Lost Mind
That anger in your eyes The frustration in your grip You make me want to misbehave
0
Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 12:43 PM UTC
Brat
Fixed on salad ******* armpit **** Passionate diaper ***** dodging queefs **** fat farts and **** sipping Squiggly nips dangling from a pig coffee spitting ***** kids with sticks sticking sticky ***** in **** like a ***** *** cream pageant queens spewing **** Chris Kringle's candy cane **** tip dripping on lips sweet **** water for your daughter ************ to Aaron Carter **** the rest I'm all out of ******* to step on best be getting home to *** on my own chest test the taste and throw out the rest I tickle my intestines till I **** out hot stew putrid black goo with nut chunks and fiber skins stretching ball skin over my **** rim till it's all one sack use bread and sauce from a snack pack to make a sack sandwich hold the lettuce between my cheeks and toss my own salad picturing *** ramming ***** spewing out tasty ***** gluey pools of chlorine smelling salty bliss I picture gargling ***** while lesbians crawl all over me vibrating fake skin ***** deep in my **** cave if you misbehave I'll rip off your face while I squeeze your **** in my teeth and make you sit on my face after you clean your *** crease bleached and sweet
0
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 5:26 PM UTC
not for the faint-hearted!
Out of body, out of touch If I feel at all, then I feel too much This poem is as shallow as my grave But I'm still digging If I want a God then I'll misbehave If I want to be sad then I'll entertain Just because I'm found doesn't mean I'm around Just because I'm growing up Doesn't mean I can't be down I'm sorry, mom and dad, but if I want to be happy then I'll have to be sad I'll write until my fingers bleed Until my words are the blood that the readers need
0
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 9:15 PM UTC
Blood
*Perfumed candle Laminar flame Flickering stave Casting shadows Puppets misbehave*
0
Nov 16, 2011
Nov 16, 2011 at 4:39 AM UTC
Shadow Puppets (10word)