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"mommys" poems
Do you know the muffin man?, Its not a nursery rhyme, He haunts kids dreams with horrid scenes, The scream from time to time. His apron smelled of cinnamon, His finger nails were clean, He brought the nicest cookies home, Mommys face would gleam. He came to school two days a wek, And gave out yummy pasties, He chose kids very carefully, Rejection made him nasty. She found it out the hard way, When she pulled away from him, He told them she was telling lies, He tore her from within. Her mommy looked so horrified,"How could you?", She would say, "Poor daddy brings such good things home, You will be sent away". Society believed this man, And Cherry went away, Asylum life was home for her, For 10 years and 4 days. So many children broke their silence, And accusations heightened, They spoke of muffins molestations, Mommy became frightened. They came in droves to talk to Cherry, From shrinks to talk show hosts, They helped her open up, And talk about those childhood ghosts. Now, muffin man has ***** hands, And spends his life in prison, But left behind are countless kids, Cause mommy wouldn't listen ...
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Aug 26, 2010
Aug 26, 2010 at 7:33 AM UTC
the muffin man
she told herself for years i can forgive him it'll be easy but the voices come back in her mind and the picture comes back and she can hear herself screaming "daddy leave mommy alone" "daddy why are you hitting her? and her heart start to beat faster and she answers his phone calls in fear of what their next fight will consist of and she told herself i have to love him because hes my dad but she never did she couldn't feel love towards him he had hurt her too many times he took her everything away from her her happiness he took all her trust away and now when a guy goes to grab her hand she flinches in fear of his hands and when a boy leans in to kiss her she steps back in fear of whats going to come out of his mouth from the time she was two and hid in the basement with a baseball bat in case mom decided she didnt care anymore she screamed "daddy dont hit me, daddy i love you" but he took his bare hand and punched her as hard as he could she can't remember the pain but she remembers the tears and the screams and the look on mommys face when she ran downstairs to her baby with a bruise the size of daddys hand mommy said "baby i'll get you out of here" but it took her ten years ten years to let daddy go ten years to see he hurt s too much ten years to see he wasnt gonna change ten years to see that i was broken and its gonna take the next hundred for me to ever recover from the fear
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May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 11:58 PM UTC
daddy
Mommys a glorified ****** With her 50 some year old married boyfriend Favorite aunt is a stripper Used to walk in on her shows Daddy's a drug pusher Gave me my fist high at 12 Granny's a kleptomaniac Must be where I get it from And it don't stop there The show goes on Drug addicts galore To add plenty of drama Then there's the snitch branch Well to do Christians My biological grandfather Who says 14 is too old for his tastes Plenty of violence To keep things perked up And everyone on their toes Welcome, my friends, to the freak show.
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Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 8:41 PM UTC
Welcome to the freakshow
To be a baby- A baby, so dear. Mommys here Do not fear. Baby in Heaven Take Care- For now... Cause soon I'll be there. My Precious Angel My Guardian One. You'll always be My Special One. So far away but, always in my heart. Don't you worry We aren't far apart. I love you, My Little Girl. Mommy misses you I'll never forget you girl. Love, Your Mommy *Happy Birthday but, you'll never be one* 1996 COPYRIGHT; Sabrina Denise Healey, ~Angelmom~
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Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 8:59 PM UTC
Beth; My Angel Beth~
Wishing for a safety net. So many scary memories she hopes she'll forget. ________________________ Daddy's always working - never around. When mommy's here: Shh! She dare not make an unpermitted sound. All too often she wakes with a start. BANG! "AH!" Like a defibrillator shocking her heart. Bedroom door rebounds off the wall. Under the covers she tries to crawl. *I mustn't move. Have to keep still. Please leave. Please leave.* She prays that she will. "Where's Mommys' girl? Hmm? My little star?" The sheets are slowly withdrawn. "There you are!" That tone of voice makes her wish that she was never born.
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Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 3:26 PM UTC
The Little Brunette
I have sons spread around the world birthed by different girls foundation built in my arms. recognition of the need of men of the Love of a woman, for a woman to guide his heart, to open his eyes to his start. she whispered, the power of the son. he is of she, penetrates the sea and births anew. she the prototype, the official original, the womb. woman, her scent alarms the masses. and we scream now. we scream and we cry we live in angst in our homes, our men are concerned. yet our pheromones sense things, weather and other perturbations. mothers voice in the heart of her children, daughters tend to stay closer to home. women, we hear the call! as we quiet our longing drawl, the pull we feel to somewhere, we know not of a place beyond the beauty of our eyes, we know, we remember, our requirements as a creator. ours, the power of the reflection of the full moon, the trees dance in the monthly celebration, though in the desert, I've seen a few who, when the moon is too full, too reflective of its presence, they fold to hide from the light. knowing whats best for themselves, I trust. I just can't help but to choose to stand with Her. stand in Her light, my mouth opens for the gift. the thirst quenched. head tilted back, think of the men of the world. if I could just hug them. as Ms Badu claims I bet you LOVE can make it better … I bet too. I bet I can heal you. open your heart, peal the bitter, drain the water, raise the alter. praise the lover, embrace as a Mother. pour into the builder, the sender. release his true endeavors. release the tension in his body, helping him to know mind over matter. plugging him into the true creative power of his *** his gift of Love, of his body penetrating another. what his self is communicating, what his seed is sprouting. he needs our healing. his heart is calling, and he's stomping around like a little boy! I have sons, they stomp around… they need mommys love, mommys extra love. she, calls us to her sons. new normals, open our hearts health always to follow.
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Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 4:12 AM UTC
her sons
I have sons spread around the world birthed by different girls foundation built in my arms. recognition of the need of men of the Love of a woman, for a woman to guide his heart, to open his eyes to his start. she whispered, the power of the son. he is of she, penetrates the sea and births anew. she the prototype, the official original, the womb. woman, her scent alarms the masses. and we scream now. we scream and we cry we live in angst in our homes, our men are concerned. yet our pheromones sense things, weather and other perturbations. mothers voice in the heart of her children, daughters tend to stay closer to home. women, we hear the call! as we quiet our longing drawl, the pull we feel to somewhere, we know not of a place beyond the beauty of our eyes, we know, we remember, our requirements as a creator. ours, the power of the reflection of the full moon, the trees dance in the monthly celebration, though in the desert, I've seen a few who, when the moon is too full, too reflective of its presence, they fold to hide from the light. knowing whats best for themselves, I trust. I just can't help but to choose to stand with Her. stand in Her light, my mouth opens for the gift. the thirst quenched. head tilted back, think of the men of the world. if I could just hug them. as Ms Badu claims I bet you LOVE can make it better … I bet too. I bet I can heal you. open your heart, peal the bitter, drain the water, raise the alter. praise the lover, embrace as a Mother. pour into the builder, the sender. release his true endeavors. release the tension in his body, helping him to know mind over matter. plugging him into the true creative power of his *** his gift of Love, of his body penetrating another. what his self is communicating, what his seed is sprouting. he needs our healing. his heart is calling, and he's stomping around like a little boy! I have sons, they stomp around… they need mommys love, mommys extra love. she, calls us to her sons. new normals, open our hearts health always to follow.
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Know-it-all revelation celebration deflated with a "no you ******* don't" Cartesian cliche quotation. So imagine mom's elation when she finally shut the **** up and moved up in conformist ranks set trends and bred friends. Thanks! Thanks friends. Without you I'm just some pearly whites, a sundress and a skewed perception of what is wrong and what is right Future bright, like some little paper lantern glowing but if the flame kisses pulp than than just gulp and take up sewing. Because you're growing with the notion you're just some fish up in the ocean attracting fish nets with fishnets floatinghopingchoking Choking on your words over 3 syllables it's a drag I'm feeling bad for the fact that I'm a man **** you dad. A slight ephebophillic fascination for the fairy folk Till she spoke, and ruined the illusion I was going for Little girls turned shiny objects auctioned off to flyest bidder Quit her after several children, physical evidence you did her Hit her too, I feel the burden bared by my sister, hung on the bottom rung just because her organs are within her. teenaged girls are wasted on the their Y possessed cohorts ***** and ****** so guess what? your mother was a ***** too Our system's banging **** ******* "get money" funny we weren't singing that song getting tucked in by our mommys
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Nov 3, 2011
Nov 3, 2011 at 11:26 AM UTC
Teenagers
A little girl found a deck of cards On her daddy's poker table. She always knew how to make a home Out of a gambler. Her hands were steady as they were small She built a tower, stories tall. When daddy returned, it never fell. The boys bet his chips around it. We built this family with a house of cards Steady hands and racing hearts. We built this family with a house of cards. Queen of hearts, two of cups. Daddys a fool, played his part Just half a step into the dark When A little girl found a deck of cards Sitting on her mommys altar. Her hands were steady as they were small She watched her house of cards grow. When mommy returned to Tarot. The cards had found themselves a different owner. We built this family with a house of cards A good read, a bad hand. We built this family with a house of cards. The fool, The queen of hearts The dealer busts, we grow old A little girl can build a home. With nothin' but two decks of cards Shuffled all together
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May 13, 2018
May 13, 2018 at 11:04 PM UTC
Card Turners
You get high to create a new reality of this **** you call life You get money anyway you can because you need cash to fuel your addiction You get angry because you get caught and your new found reality gets torn to pieces You feel suffocated because the only way you know how to breathe is through smoke You grow depressed because the only company you had was your broken thoughts But sometimes it's not only you that gets affected While you get high, the ones closest to you become confused While you sell and steal, your little sister wonders why her mommys ring is in your drawer While you get angry your mom gets scared because she just lost her little boy While you  grow depressed your parents grow apart because they feel like they've failed While you ruin your life you ruin everyone else you smash and break and scrape and you bring every one down to where you are because if you think your restless nights and paranoia is bad think about what everyone else goes through just so you can ease your pain with a temporary healer your parents feel like failiers your siblings feel so lost and unprotected and you you feel bad for yourself because you lost your high because with withdrawal it brings selfishness and you feel like you're going crazy well try losing your mind because you failed at the one job you had just take a minute look at it through something other than than self pity use a new perspective maybe just use some heart because when you lost yourself you lost everyone around you too a.m.
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Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 7:05 PM UTC
Use a New Perspective
You get high to create a new reality of this **** you call life You get money anyway you can because you need cash to fuel your addiction You get angry because you get caught and your new found reality gets torn to pieces You feel suffocated because the only way you know how to breathe is through smoke You grow depressed because the only company you had was your broken thoughts But sometimes it's not only you that gets affected While you get high, the ones closest to you become confused While you sell and steal, your little sister wonders why her mommys ring is in your drawer While you get angry your mom gets scared because she just lost her little boy While you  grow depressed your parents grow apart because they feel like they've failed While you ruin your life you ruin everyone else you smash and break and scrape and you bring every one down to where you are because if you think your restless nights and paranoia is bad think about what everyone else goes through just so you can ease your pain with a temporary healer your parents feel like failiers your siblings feel so lost and unprotected and you you feel bad for yourself because you lost your high because with withdrawal it brings selfishness and you feel like you're going crazy well try losing your mind because you failed at the one job you had just take a minute look at it through something other than than self pity use a new perspective maybe just use some heart because when you lost yourself you lost everyone around you too a.m.
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In the middle of the night, when everyone is asleep, I let myself cry, and I let myself think. Daddys are suppose to remember when their daughters turn 13...14....and 15. And Mommys aren't suppose to be sick and ill. Best friends are suppose to be forever and never let you down. Love is suppose to make you happy, not second guess everything. And so, as I lie on my bed, in this dark, dark room, I let myself cry, for all of my life's woes. I try to be silent and not wake anyone up, but it's so hard, don't you know, when you're all choked up. I want to cry myself a river. I want to cry myself a river and float away. Cry me a river and drown my sorrows with each tear that falls. Drown myself in a River of Tears.
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Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 2:41 AM UTC
River of Tears
Hand me down children breathe off borrowed air born from slip ups out of the womb they come into the arms of guilty parents and into this world of musical chairs where everybody's fighting for a seat too many kids? or not enough chairs? hand me down children have a way of looking at the world a little differently they ask why and can take a beating they admire the shades of their bruises they are made of the same stuff as firecrackers they know when they are being lied to they even know why Hand me down children will always find each other and love each other Hand me down children sat in the back and couldn't spell too well they did stupid dares and almost died frequently they got socks for Christmas and made them into puppets they weren't scared of the dark or at least that's what they say they slice up the night like birthday cake and pop tires to make swings and the world is their playground monkey bars of lead pipes swings of driftwood slides of cement, toppled building halfpipes sidewalk chalk stolen from substitute teachers Paper cranes made out of pink slips, merri-go-round-abouts, bikes without brakes Hand me down children play in mommys old sweater daddys old socks brothers shoes and sisters scarves and they play after the flashlights burn out and after the fireflies die in their jars
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May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 3:55 PM UTC
Hand me down
i wonder when my skin will feel safe and comfortable again i know you don't want to be in this small room that smells like my grandmother's clothes (she died five years ago, did you know?) your hands are on me and we can go ahead and pretend it feels natural we're kids playing at being grown ups with mommys high-heels they have you walking on hell and the shoes are much too big for your little feet and the boys, wearing their father's ties which are much too long they've got daddy's guns too, in the trunk they've got daddy's drinking habits too and you've got your big sister's cigarettes why do they call it seven minutes in heaven when this feels much more like the firey place they call hell we're all smiling, we're all laughing we're upside down and floating in the sky asking ourselves why because we're too shy to say these words aloud too high to say these words underground we can leave the closet now, its been far past seven minutes
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Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 10:17 PM UTC
seven minutes in heaven
grainy screens, box televisions animated dreams, analog missions black fingers, fixing antennas blasphemous winners, street fighter bandannas tiger knee, tiger knee finish him, 2003 brush cut years, empty front teeth peanut butter sandwiches, green backyards fingers in the soil, counting each white star lights by the gate, daddys black car mommys macaroni, dinner by the black box. - t.m
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Apr 17, 2017
Apr 17, 2017 at 4:14 AM UTC
tiger knee
I want a girl, who's as gentle as feathers in the wind, feathers that fall like shooting stars from birds trying to make it back home from there winter's trip, I want a girl, who's mind speaks as freely as the sea, so as the sea roars waves that cascade over her, as she tries to speak her mind, I will still listen and hear her every single ******* time, because this girl, Has a voice like a ******* angel, and her voice cries out to create heaven in hells, This Angel, she makes the best with what she has been handed, like god has always planned for a man to do, but a man couldn't, so its now up to her to use his tools and be more than any man, she must be Women, Women, she is a warrior in the constellations of light, guiding us from childhood in our hopes that if we wish hard enough, on the shiniest of stars that make up the sky, our dreams could come true, But I want a woman who knows, dreams won't come true, like children wishing on stars, for daddy to come back home, but daddy's away fighting a war that no one knows who started, and no ones going to win, but the only loser is the children who don't win there mommys and daddys back home safely, and I want a girl who knows, the world isn't always safe, that it wasn't made for you by a man above, you work with what you're handed in each open hand, don't walk in with closed ones expecting the world to shine, you have to put in the work to get there and it's hard work too, but sometimes it feels like nothing, some days it's as easy as a smile, but I want a girl, who's not afraid to say she's not happy, I want her to feel free to scream **** You out the window on the highway, with her head sticking out like a dogs because the wind has made her hair flop all over, and I want her to not care about her hair, I want her to be able to cry and mess up her make up, I want her to be able to be upset, because no one is always happy, no one is always fine, I want her, to look at herself and be able to read inbetween the lines, know that when she hears I'm fine from her mouth, to second guess herself, because if you don't think twice, you will rarely think once, And I want her to know, She, is more the the world beautiful, can describe, and I only want to love her,
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Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 1:55 PM UTC
I want.
I want a girl, who's as gentle as feathers in the wind, feathers that fall like shooting stars from birds trying to make it back home from there winter's trip, I want a girl, who's mind speaks as freely as the sea, so as the sea roars waves that cascade over her, as she tries to speak her mind, I will still listen and hear her every single ******* time, because this girl, Has a voice like a ******* angel, and her voice cries out to create heaven in hells, This Angel, she makes the best with what she has been handed, like god has always planned for a man to do, but a man couldn't, so its now up to her to use his tools and be more than any man, she must be Women, Women, she is a warrior in the constellations of light, guiding us from childhood in our hopes that if we wish hard enough, on the shiniest of stars that make up the sky, our dreams could come true, But I want a woman who knows, dreams won't come true, like children wishing on stars, for daddy to come back home, but daddy's away fighting a war that no one knows who started, and no ones going to win, but the only loser is the children who don't win there mommys and daddys back home safely, and I want a girl who knows, the world isn't always safe, that it wasn't made for you by a man above, you work with what you're handed in each open hand, don't walk in with closed ones expecting the world to shine, you have to put in the work to get there and it's hard work too, but sometimes it feels like nothing, some days it's as easy as a smile, but I want a girl, who's not afraid to say she's not happy, I want her to feel free to scream **** You out the window on the highway, with her head sticking out like a dogs because the wind has made her hair flop all over, and I want her to not care about her hair, I want her to be able to cry and mess up her make up, I want her to be able to be upset, because no one is always happy, no one is always fine, I want her, to look at herself and be able to read inbetween the lines, know that when she hears I'm fine from her mouth, to second guess herself, because if you don't think twice, you will rarely think once, And I want her to know, She, is more the the world beautiful, can describe, and I only want to love her,
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Little girl. Four years old. Pretty dresses. Dry those tears Time for pictures Mommys little doll. Pretty little doll Gets attention now Soak it up while you can Looks are all that matter In the "flashing room" Sit still while I do your hair Make up too Don't you dare move ••• Little girl. Five years old Get down from that tree Good girls don't get ***** No, don't play in the mud **** you go to your room ••• Little girl, nine years old Here's your cell phone, Mommy won't be home today Make sure your sister does her homework And clean up from dinner I made up bottles for your brother Don't stay up too late ••• Little girl, eleven years old Too pretty for your own good I'm your moms friend, Trust me It won't hurt, Stay still Be a good girl Take those clothes off for me ••• Little girl, twelve years old You hold it like this Now inhale, Let the smoke fill your lungs Hold it for a minute Exhale Doesn't that feel good? Here, have a drink
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Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 12:24 PM UTC
Little girl
I can't be no more than three To the circus, Barnum and Bailey My blonde hair, a dress and big blue eyes I am just as cute as I can be My brother and sisters came too My moms hands are full, what a zoo Just so I won't get separated Her soft, old brown coat I hold onto The smells are all delicious here Popcorn, cotton candy and good cheer So many colors and sparkly things I will get some later, it is clear We take our seats I can barely see On dads lap watching the menagerie Elephants, lions, tigers and clowns! So excited dad can hardly hold me The music, drum beats and all the sound The ladies on horseback ride around The man on the trapeze soars very high I'm sure he is miles up off the ground We walk all the way up real big stairs Past laughing people in their chairs Hold onto that coat with all my might I am having such fun, I have no cares We bump and weave all thru the crowd My mom and dad will be so proud When I look up to see my mommys hair It is grey! Wrong coat! I squeal aloud Well I'll just have to find the car Know they'll be there, it's not too far The streets and parking lots are packed I am lost and about to cry hard I thought and searched and there it stood My nice grandmas car, that's her hood I waited for at least a year Clown came by to help, he could He took my hand in his huge glove He dried my tears, thank God above I missed my mom and dad....bad Clown gave me ice cream filled with love Over the loud speaker, announced my name My frantic parents, on the run they came Mom hugged me tight like she's never seen me It was time to leave, what a **** shame
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Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 11:10 AM UTC
When The Circus Comes To Town
I can't be no more than three To the circus, Barnum and Bailey My blonde hair, a dress and big blue eyes I am just as cute as I can be My brother and sisters came too My moms hands are full, what a zoo Just so I won't get separated Her soft, old brown coat I hold onto The smells are all delicious here Popcorn, cotton candy and good cheer So many colors and sparkly things I will get some later, it is clear We take our seats I can barely see On dads lap watching the menagerie Elephants, lions, tigers and clowns! So excited dad can hardly hold me The music, drum beats and all the sound The ladies on horseback ride around The man on the trapeze soars very high I'm sure he is miles up off the ground We walk all the way up real big stairs Past laughing people in their chairs Hold onto that coat with all my might I am having such fun, I have no cares We bump and weave all thru the crowd My mom and dad will be so proud When I look up to see my mommys hair It is grey! Wrong coat! I squeal aloud Well I'll just have to find the car Know they'll be there, it's not too far The streets and parking lots are packed I am lost and about to cry hard I thought and searched and there it stood My nice grandmas car, that's her hood I waited for at least a year Clown came by to help, he could He took my hand in his huge glove He dried my tears, thank God above I missed my mom and dad....bad Clown gave me ice cream filled with love Over the loud speaker, announced my name My frantic parents, on the run they came Mom hugged me tight like she's never seen me It was time to leave, what a **** shame
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Oh mommy and daddy. what can i say. thanks for the scars Thanks for the pain. Emptey stomachs Your no where to be found. Mommys at the bar. daddy passed out. Oh mommy and daddy Why can't you understand you made me this way i bet your oh so proud.
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Oct 2, 2012
Oct 2, 2012 at 10:28 AM UTC
mommy and daddy.
I can't stop seeing what I do Rendering my thoughts insignificant is impossible How cynical is my perspective The little wrinkles stand out the most to me But how I interpret them is the problem I see the halo surrounded by flames I see the serpent's tongue flicking in the clouds I observe everyone's hurt Who sees mine? Who caresses my mind when I see Daddy drunk? Who smiles at me when my eyes are swollen driving at midnight? No one People are too infatuated with themselves to see me In my darkest hours of thoughts and constellations, I see the people. I can't stop seeing the people and their hurt. My hand is always towards someone, Yet there is none ****** towards me as I fall. This is why the world is filled with hatred and pain. It isn't the Daddys that are drunk or the Mommys that don't care. It is the people that see the hurt and aren't there. It is the people that can't care for the broken winged creature. It is the people.
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Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 6:19 PM UTC
The People
Mommy mommy pleas wake up I don't want to lose you all this time is not enough Mommy pleas mommy open your eyes you look like your sleeping so why cant you rise Their putting you down into a box you look pretty why don't you open up your eyes grandma sais im staying with her tonight Mommy im young but I can see them cry when I ask weir you are they say that you died But mom that's not true you cant be gone you taught me a lot expect how to live without you mommy pleas mommy open up your eyes I don't know much but angels arnt supposed to die
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Oct 7, 2015
Oct 7, 2015 at 3:38 PM UTC
Mommys gone
The Rainbow is melting and softly dripping on her back Her thoughts smother in the dark Sun is gone The streets, still wet cause of past rain Mommys words resound in long forgotten memories "Rainbows arise when the sun kisses the rain" But hell, there is no sun to kiss !
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Apr 1, 2018
Apr 1, 2018 at 12:02 PM UTC
Melting Rainbow
Taboo Mom Kristi                       Gives Son A             Sneaky ******* &        then       Kristi Seduces        My Son - to Make                   Mother and Son Erotica... Princess               Kristi Smells Your Sister's Delicious *******                Ur Brother -... **** In Princess Kristi & Makes a Baby for Auntie - Yeh, my     Big ***** Aunt that ***** the                   Neighbor... Female                          ****      pumping and *** ******* in Latex         like an         Angel; The            Latex                      angel ******* Your Mom in the Kitchen... Taboo Princess           Kristi rewards the    son by letting him  sniff                        her fingers; Smell My Fingers! Drunk Mom ***** Big ****                 Son; Taboo **** mom &              nson                              ******* **** hard Hello,                 baby - Is that ur              ******* Hand?                   job Blue     Jeans Fetish                     with The                    Princesss Princess Kristi Farts in your face!                       POW! ****                 Princess; My Mommy Smells     Ur      Mommy's ******* (                                                                                            .   My ***** girlfriend's ***** is so             full of *** I'm   Using the ******* of my submissive *****           to the Max. Drilling Her Perfect *******       at    13 *** in Her ******* #1 Real Son ****** Mom hard **** *** in          the Minivan     Your Hot Mom Rides Your **** ********** - Fetish **** rims and pokes *** Perfectly; I Need YOUR Seed! Get Me Pregnant! (HD webcam - *** worship) I Need *** Can You *** in 20 Seconds? ***** Kristi's Big **** Your **** Mother ***** Your **** Stinky Hole, I'm gonna tell your father young student ****** hard in the basement; Smell it & Stroke For Your Step Mom's Huge **** - Taboo... Mommy's *** Worship Mommy's Little Helper's Amazing squirting from **** *** Mom and Step-Son Share a Bed; Mandy Flores **** Mandy Flores - Bella & Blue Sniff Her ***** - Hairy Australian rimmed; Mommys always Worship Other Mommy's ***** Gianna: *** Teaser Foot pixies & prego hotties My Mom Is A *** Drinker named Wicked **** Melanie; No Comment
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Jun 2, 2018
Jun 2, 2018 at 11:26 PM UTC
Princess Kristi: Taboo Mom
Taboo Mom Kristi                       Gives Son A             Sneaky ******* &        then       Kristi Seduces        My Son - to Make                   Mother and Son Erotica... Princess               Kristi Smells Your Sister's Delicious *******                Ur Brother -... **** In Princess Kristi & Makes a Baby for Auntie - Yeh, my     Big ***** Aunt that ***** the                   Neighbor... Female                          ****      pumping and *** ******* in Latex         like an         Angel; The            Latex                      angel ******* Your Mom in the Kitchen... Taboo Princess           Kristi rewards the    son by letting him  sniff                        her fingers; Smell My Fingers! Drunk Mom ***** Big ****                 Son; Taboo **** mom &              nson                              ******* **** hard Hello,                 baby - Is that ur              ******* Hand?                   job Blue     Jeans Fetish                     with The                    Princesss Princess Kristi Farts in your face!                       POW! ****                 Princess; My Mommy Smells     Ur      Mommy's ******* (                                                                                            .   My ***** girlfriend's ***** is so             full of *** I'm   Using the ******* of my submissive *****           to the Max. Drilling Her Perfect *******       at    13 *** in Her ******* #1 Real Son ****** Mom hard **** *** in          the Minivan     Your Hot Mom Rides Your **** ********** - Fetish **** rims and pokes *** Perfectly; I Need YOUR Seed! Get Me Pregnant! (HD webcam - *** worship) I Need *** Can You *** in 20 Seconds? ***** Kristi's Big **** Your **** Mother ***** Your **** Stinky Hole, I'm gonna tell your father young student ****** hard in the basement; Smell it & Stroke For Your Step Mom's Huge **** - Taboo... Mommy's *** Worship Mommy's Little Helper's Amazing squirting from **** *** Mom and Step-Son Share a Bed; Mandy Flores **** Mandy Flores - Bella & Blue Sniff Her ***** - Hairy Australian rimmed; Mommys always Worship Other Mommy's ***** Gianna: *** Teaser Foot pixies & prego hotties My Mom Is A *** Drinker named Wicked **** Melanie; No Comment
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75
she loved anything that provided an escape from her life. when she was 7, it was disney movies. that is where she learned its not normal for daddys to hit mommys. when she was 11, it was books. the ink, staining her fingers as well as her heart and her mind. that was where she learned that when she said no, he was supposed to stop. when she was 16, it was drugs. powder, needles, pills. and that is where she learned the true meaning of escape. getting so h i g h she never felt the l o w s. at 20, though, she confused e s c a p e with d i s a p p e a r i n g
0
Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 10:34 PM UTC
learned escape
the sleeper in the valley is haunting me, what I should do I haven't. I'm a junkyard full of false starts. "I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves through the ***** streets at dawn looking for an angry fix, angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night," :Bought a book of Ginsberg: :Thought it quite lonely: :Found out socrates was a ******* I fell asleep and was dreaming the subconscious dream, The theorem was proven and I could breathe again. I awoke to sirens, nymphs, and Orpheus standing over me. I am a small bit of nothing, a Wes Anderson caricature, a pre-printed, pre-made, pre-packaged archetype. I bought guitar strings from a lovely woman, I want everyone to hear me. Hear me play Pitseleh. I am quiet now, I am soft and everyone hears me. I don't want to say anything, I want you to look at me and know. I want you to see my eyes and know I am infinite. I wake up again and I am sweating, it was the night terror, the one I have I was surrounded by intellectuals, the poets and artists of our generation, all second rate ********** doing it for the applause and their mommys, same **** that was always done, since ******* Homer, since ******* Shakespeare, since ******* Ruddy Rimbaud. I keep shaking, Something is coming after me and I know it. Maybe it's all the women I looked at wrongly, one's from the ***** pictures big brother sold me, Maybe it's all the sucrose and caffeine i've been inserting. Maybe it's the nothings that i forgot to do, and others did instead. I am a ****** I never ****** no one. ******* is stupid. I am one of the ugliest men alive. When the saint ended us I saw infinity. Everything was you, in you, by you, for you, the ******* hours and hours of thought, the stupid lengthy and complicated memories where you were christmas and we were meeting the ocean, all pointless and lost to oblivion and I lost it right then and there in front of you, I sobbed and wanted to **** myself. Then you gave me a *******
0
Dec 1, 2017
Dec 1, 2017 at 1:16 AM UTC
A Heart Beating for Itself
the sleeper in the valley is haunting me, what I should do I haven't. I'm a junkyard full of false starts. "I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves through the ***** streets at dawn looking for an angry fix, angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night," :Bought a book of Ginsberg: :Thought it quite lonely: :Found out socrates was a ******* I fell asleep and was dreaming the subconscious dream, The theorem was proven and I could breathe again. I awoke to sirens, nymphs, and Orpheus standing over me. I am a small bit of nothing, a Wes Anderson caricature, a pre-printed, pre-made, pre-packaged archetype. I bought guitar strings from a lovely woman, I want everyone to hear me. Hear me play Pitseleh. I am quiet now, I am soft and everyone hears me. I don't want to say anything, I want you to look at me and know. I want you to see my eyes and know I am infinite. I wake up again and I am sweating, it was the night terror, the one I have I was surrounded by intellectuals, the poets and artists of our generation, all second rate ********** doing it for the applause and their mommys, same **** that was always done, since ******* Homer, since ******* Shakespeare, since ******* Ruddy Rimbaud. I keep shaking, Something is coming after me and I know it. Maybe it's all the women I looked at wrongly, one's from the ***** pictures big brother sold me, Maybe it's all the sucrose and caffeine i've been inserting. Maybe it's the nothings that i forgot to do, and others did instead. I am a ****** I never ****** no one. ******* is stupid. I am one of the ugliest men alive. When the saint ended us I saw infinity. Everything was you, in you, by you, for you, the ******* hours and hours of thought, the stupid lengthy and complicated memories where you were christmas and we were meeting the ocean, all pointless and lost to oblivion and I lost it right then and there in front of you, I sobbed and wanted to **** myself. Then you gave me a *******
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41
I wasn't strong, my knees were weakened by the addiction that feeds  my forsaken life.. To be a amazing person with the ability to overcome it and show the world I'm different then the rest... To bad so sad I failed the test. My addiction never fooled ANYONE I had no idea how strong of a grasp it had on my soul, it took the innocence And left a big hole. To think I would  be just fine That it wouldn't been blawing my eyes out Because I lost months of my life.. Disappeared in the blink of an eye.. Wrong of me to think that I would be an exception. Now this battlefield in my life A wrecking ball with cracking frames, writhing dreams, Shattered hopes, Devastated CRYS And don't forget guilt ridden Thoughts separated family Children with unanswered questions And fears that **** the soul For I can't let them know I chose to not try And now.. 2YEARS LATER I WANT TO SHOW THEM MOMMYS GONNA NOT FAIL BUT TOO LATE .. I BAILED And failed my sweet babies sooo extremely much --- A few thoughts of suicide entered my brain but that won't solve a thing So I have 13 years I have to miss of the memories I can't have  but with time . I can ensure my life will be on the right track When their 18 with a head on their shoulders. . My chance to be the mother I was supposed  to be Will be at my feet! For now its only hopes in my dreams
0
Jul 22, 2016
Jul 22, 2016 at 6:53 AM UTC
Addicted mommy
When I was little and in a private school we memorized this verse one time. Something about how if you hate your brother than you can’t love god and so I refused to use the word hate. Not even when we were supposed to say it in the verse. Funny now, because I use it pretty often. I hate him and her and mostly me. I swore to never drink. Ya know. Growing up with an alcoholic dad and all, but I broke that too. Lots. And I kind of get why he does it. It’s like when you’re in a fog or on a **** ton of pills or you get tired of feeling nothing but one emotion and you just want to be different. My mom sat at the kitchen table one day with a knife against her arm and I remember never being more scared. No that’s a lie. I was more scared the day she wouldn't wake up. But I promised that I would never be like her. I’m not. But sometimes, I am. People are so fickle. We promise and we swear and we believe. But it’s so silly because those things we don’t know what we mean. We don’t see all the baseballs that life is throwing in our face and we know that those bumper stickers, “Be who you wanted to be five years ago” are terrifying, because that self would ******* hate us, but they wouldn't say the word hate and they wouldn't drown their not-hate in a bottle of beer and they wouldn't try so **** hard. It’s ridiculous. When I was little I knew lots. I knew that hate and beer and mean mommys were bad, but I didn't know that sometimes they were good. That sometimes they are liberating. And that maybe, my five-year ago-self would hate me, but I think my right-now-self would think my old me is a dumb naive *****
0
Mar 9, 2014
Mar 9, 2014 at 11:42 PM UTC
Venting
When I was little and in a private school we memorized this verse one time. Something about how if you hate your brother than you can’t love god and so I refused to use the word hate. Not even when we were supposed to say it in the verse. Funny now, because I use it pretty often. I hate him and her and mostly me. I swore to never drink. Ya know. Growing up with an alcoholic dad and all, but I broke that too. Lots. And I kind of get why he does it. It’s like when you’re in a fog or on a **** ton of pills or you get tired of feeling nothing but one emotion and you just want to be different. My mom sat at the kitchen table one day with a knife against her arm and I remember never being more scared. No that’s a lie. I was more scared the day she wouldn't wake up. But I promised that I would never be like her. I’m not. But sometimes, I am. People are so fickle. We promise and we swear and we believe. But it’s so silly because those things we don’t know what we mean. We don’t see all the baseballs that life is throwing in our face and we know that those bumper stickers, “Be who you wanted to be five years ago” are terrifying, because that self would ******* hate us, but they wouldn't say the word hate and they wouldn't drown their not-hate in a bottle of beer and they wouldn't try so **** hard. It’s ridiculous. When I was little I knew lots. I knew that hate and beer and mean mommys were bad, but I didn't know that sometimes they were good. That sometimes they are liberating. And that maybe, my five-year ago-self would hate me, but I think my right-now-self would think my old me is a dumb naive *****
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1