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"practicing" poems
She longs for his presence To be able to hold him in her arms One more time. She'll never tell him how she feels She longs to hear the sound of his voice The way his hazel eyes brighten up when he talks About something he loves. How his smile can make her day The way he isn't capable of doing simple tricks Although he has been practicing long enough She loves everything there is To love about him
0
Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 9:38 PM UTC
Untitled
There is beauty within failure Is my life then a tale of a fair maiden surrounded by a macabre beauty? Then it is not the tragedy written in my sins on bloodstained paper that I've been practicing Or is the beauty in learning from you failures? 'Cause then all these lessons have been lost on me
0
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 12:34 PM UTC
Failure
When I was little my mother put me in several ballet classes in hopes to bring some grace to my stumbling gait. I grew up walking on eggshells, wobbling to keep my balance on a tightrope that never really ended.  My instructor pinched my thighs and shook her bony finger at me every tuesday and thursday for three and a half years. 4 am, I'm still tiptoeing around the creaks in the stairs as if anyone would notice an empty bed.  This Christmas I came across the broken reminents of the ballerina ornaments my younger sister used to play with. I never did master the delicate posture I was expected to adopt. My feet fell a bit too heavy, I suppose, on the ice tonight. I'm not cold anymore, just exhausted from attempting to balance the wrong things for too long. My life is flashing before my eyes, but all I see is a younger version of myself practicing Grand Battements on thin ice while everyone slept.
0
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 3:18 PM UTC
Ballerina
‘I am…’ 'Or am I’? Who can say? ‘A posteriori’ leads the way For the extra and the ordinary Axiomatic sway, In the gravity of corollary, ‘A priori’ interplay Ataraxic overlay of anxious automation, As the innocence of dissonance delay. Practicing semantic contemplation, In willfully prevenient interpolation, Civilly disobedient in expediently seeming disarray, Forecasts in vague extrapolation Contrasts the millennial contagion Already underway, Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves, To interpret dreams of Freud to free Oedipus’s slaves, A degreeless scholastic who never misbehaves, Simulated humanoid dramatic in the affect that he craves, Inflating linguistics in acrobatic raves, A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves. The probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates, An apperceived inquirer of qualitative states, Inspiring proprietor of dismality abates. Challenging aporia as epistemic oscillates, Stoically, heroically, ‘one’ who amalgamates, Circling the infinite in hermeneutic calibrates. An escaped prisoner from depressive disillusion, Of an introspective extrovert who finds solace in confusion, The personable recluse fighting an illusion Breaking down the nuances of every institution. Calculating consequence as time goes to infinity Revolutionary commonsense of principal utility, An opinionated adversary, to the realist without evidence, Theorizing in futility, Stipulating every sense leading to the virility of the pretense that dominates community. Divergently converging all the efforts we’ve personified, Inadvertently submerging old traditions that unethically were codified, Hastening the urgency for purging that which cannot be modified through the merging of the certainty that will no longer coincide, Stationing the levies to finally stem the tide, Of periodic enmities disguised to be necessities so blatantly deified. Observing moral sentiments, perched upon eternity, As consequential regiments are expounded universally, To unstratify the residents indiscriminately And identify quantum elements spiritualistically, Changing collective behavior individually, Socializing constructs in joint ventured logo therapy.
0
Nov 16, 2018
Nov 16, 2018 at 8:07 AM UTC
Paradoxical Tendencies
‘I am…’ 'Or am I’? Who can say? ‘A posteriori’ leads the way For the extra and the ordinary Axiomatic sway, In the gravity of corollary, ‘A priori’ interplay Ataraxic overlay of anxious automation, As the innocence of dissonance delay. Practicing semantic contemplation, In willfully prevenient interpolation, Civilly disobedient in expediently seeming disarray, Forecasts in vague extrapolation Contrasts the millennial contagion Already underway, Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves, To interpret dreams of Freud to free Oedipus’s slaves, A degreeless scholastic who never misbehaves, Simulated humanoid dramatic in the affect that he craves, Inflating linguistics in acrobatic raves, A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves. The probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates, An apperceived inquirer of qualitative states, Inspiring proprietor of dismality abates. Challenging aporia as epistemic oscillates, Stoically, heroically, ‘one’ who amalgamates, Circling the infinite in hermeneutic calibrates. An escaped prisoner from depressive disillusion, Of an introspective extrovert who finds solace in confusion, The personable recluse fighting an illusion Breaking down the nuances of every institution. Calculating consequence as time goes to infinity Revolutionary commonsense of principal utility, An opinionated adversary, to the realist without evidence, Theorizing in futility, Stipulating every sense leading to the virility of the pretense that dominates community. Divergently converging all the efforts we’ve personified, Inadvertently submerging old traditions that unethically were codified, Hastening the urgency for purging that which cannot be modified through the merging of the certainty that will no longer coincide, Stationing the levies to finally stem the tide, Of periodic enmities disguised to be necessities so blatantly deified. Observing moral sentiments, perched upon eternity, As consequential regiments are expounded universally, To unstratify the residents indiscriminately And identify quantum elements spiritualistically, Changing collective behavior individually, Socializing constructs in joint ventured logo therapy.
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47
I am so ***** most of the time.... guys cant keep up with me, its my sugar walls they all want to climb! I want to attack you the moment were all alone... or sexily ****** you when your on the phone.. I will do a strip tease to get you nice and hot... then show you my pole skills since ive been practicing a lot. I want to crawl on the floor up to you.... and work my way up your **** body you know what I LOVE to do... I hope you will be here soon so you can ease my yearning for some of that hot love that will cure what I need and playing with my wett ***** will do for now but please hurry so we can do the deed!
0
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 4:47 AM UTC
I want hot ***
say goodbye to the bucolic summer the rafts of winter are upon the banks of your desire please placate the wild streets of abandonment let the edges of your neediness take you into independence i am less dense than a fly and more round than the sky i am a shade too dry for some people's liking are you wanting a more permanent vacation the icing on the cake is the real equation immediate desires all forsaken our love is worth practicing non-anticipation for if you kiss me now i’ll be forever liberated if you show me how i’ll take you to the 9th dimension seventeen floors above the world and we are standing on an indefinite embankment i am intimidated by your perspicacity as the persimmon sun sets upon the horizon
0
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 3:01 PM UTC
the rafts of winter
I've been practicing lucid dreaming for a while now, and I think I've almost got it down. (If you didn't know, lucid dreaming is kind of like dreaming, but with the lights on. It's very cool.) The way it works -- or at least, in the method I'm using -- is by first establishing a "totem." I use the jade elephant you gave me for my birthday three days before it happened. What you do is you alter your totem in a unique way so that it really stands out to you, incase you ever come across it in your dreams; this way hopefully it will jump-shock your mind into consciousness, allowing you to take the wheel. I wrote your initials on the back. DN. And I know you'd probably be thinking "why would you ever waste time perfecting a skill that will never have any practical use?" You always were the practical one. But hear me out. When I dream, it is the only time I get to see you. You know, you've been gone for almost a year this Tuesday, and this jade elephant is all I have left. This jade elephant, and your initials. This Jade elephant, and DN. I miss you, man. And I don't really know how comas work, but if you can hear me, just know that I've almost got it down. Soon, it'll be just like the old days. I promise.
0
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 11:18 AM UTC
The Jade Elephant
When I am inside writing, all I can think about is how I should be outside living. When I am outside living, all I can do is notice all there is to write about. When I read about love, I think I should be out loving. When I love, I think I need to read more. I am stumbling in pursuit of grace, I hunt patience with a vengeance. On the mornings when my brother’s tired muscles held to the pillow, my father used to tell him, For every moment you aren’t playing basketball, someone else is on the court practicing. I spend most of my time wondering if I should be somewhere else. So I have learned to shape the words thank you with my first breath each morning, my last breath every night. When the last breath comes, at least I will know I was thankful for all the places I was so sure I was not supposed to be. All those places I made it to, all the loves I held, all the words I wrote. And even if it is just for one moment, I will be exactly where I am supposed to be.
0
Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 1:51 PM UTC
The Paradox by Sarah Kay
Dark hair tied back. Blue eyes pointed front and center. Tats two on her back and shoulder Black stocking satin strap. Knee-high; hard to measure. High - heels they just climb forever. Spread thighs hypnotized his eyes. Deep breath watching her chest rise Wide eyes she looks posterized, long strokes that disappear deep inside. Deeper sighs I can feel the vibes, nail marks across his chest, blood dried just follow the X. Move slow make her want it more, said wise speaking from experience. Handcuffed cause she likes to be a deviant. Lips sealed, around his **** like she’s practicing keeping secrets. Hair tied back cause that’s how Sir told her to keep it. Legs wrapped around his waist, at a right angle, so Sir can reach it. open wide like Simon says, She reacts so, Sir doesn’t have to repeat it. Firm grip on her waistline, but there is no wasting time.   Twitching hips, tighten his grips, as she whines, in joy of the loving being deployed. Toes curled the pleasure can’t be denied. Slip slide the more she moves the harder he grinds, smooth ride the way their bodies coincide. Deep ****** they combust, as they collide, come inside her, like a gentleman, he gives her, a piece of his mine.
0
Apr 8, 2020
Apr 8, 2020 at 3:17 PM UTC
BDSM(2)
Never will I be covered in tattoos My legs and toes shall forever stay bruised. I’ll never paint or carry a tune Forever and ever, I’ll wear a tutu. I won’t dye my hair pink or blue My piercings will stay as the simple two Nails cut short and hair in a bun In ballet, this must be done. Pink tights by the mound Bobby pins all around Leotards on the floor Pointe shoes by the door. Toes taped so tightly Smiling big and brightly Red lipstick adding to her beauty The dancer moves so smoothly. Turned out from my hips No words coming from my lips I dance sweetly to the sound Ooh ballet, to you, I am bound. Full of grace, never haste Filling perfectly my costume of lace Ever so sweet, my dancing feet Step after step, I repeat and repeat. Obtaining perfection is my key It’s what I strive for, it’s all that defines me Pushing harder and harder to reach my goal It’s what I live for, ballet is my soul. My toes may bleed And my knees, grow weak But I’ll never stop dancing… Not until I reach my peak. Pirouette, Pirouette Dancer’s silhouette Practicing at dusk Dedication is a must. Stretching my limbs Choreographing on a whim Alway aiming to be stronger To hold my arabesque longer. When I do finally reach that triple pirouette and all is done and all is set I put myself back into class Aiming for a fourth, to be better than the last. This is the life of a dancer en point Risking the health of her feet, legs and joints Just for that one perfect moment on stage Where the ballerina stands tall and all are amazed.
0
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 3:49 AM UTC
Ballerina
Never will I be covered in tattoos My legs and toes shall forever stay bruised. I’ll never paint or carry a tune Forever and ever, I’ll wear a tutu. I won’t dye my hair pink or blue My piercings will stay as the simple two Nails cut short and hair in a bun In ballet, this must be done. Pink tights by the mound Bobby pins all around Leotards on the floor Pointe shoes by the door. Toes taped so tightly Smiling big and brightly Red lipstick adding to her beauty The dancer moves so smoothly. Turned out from my hips No words coming from my lips I dance sweetly to the sound Ooh ballet, to you, I am bound. Full of grace, never haste Filling perfectly my costume of lace Ever so sweet, my dancing feet Step after step, I repeat and repeat. Obtaining perfection is my key It’s what I strive for, it’s all that defines me Pushing harder and harder to reach my goal It’s what I live for, ballet is my soul. My toes may bleed And my knees, grow weak But I’ll never stop dancing… Not until I reach my peak. Pirouette, Pirouette Dancer’s silhouette Practicing at dusk Dedication is a must. Stretching my limbs Choreographing on a whim Alway aiming to be stronger To hold my arabesque longer. When I do finally reach that triple pirouette and all is done and all is set I put myself back into class Aiming for a fourth, to be better than the last. This is the life of a dancer en point Risking the health of her feet, legs and joints Just for that one perfect moment on stage Where the ballerina stands tall and all are amazed.
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48
I wanted someone that wouldn't be afraid of me. I spent twenty-one years doubting that person could ever exist. For humans are far too shallow and our complications are way too deep but I honestly believe we should not have to be alone. I believe in independence. I believe in self-reliance and I believe in self-respect. But I also believe that humans can connect on a far deeper level than just what we see. I believe there is a time and place for everything and that includes the moments we fall in love. You see, there will be days that you fill empty and lonely but you have to be there for yourself. No one is going to give you a handout unless you show them you are going to make it count. No one is going to rely on someone that cannot rely on them self. Co dependence can be beautiful but nevertheless- it is filled with even more grief. You cannot fix somebody else when you are still practicing the craft of self-love. Allow your lows to be reminders that you can lose and smile knowing that you can bounce back, too. There is nothing graceful in struggling but there is something glorious in the overcoming and believe me- you will find a way to live through it all. And then some day somebody, somewhere is going to admire the way you refuse to fall. And you will wonder how you ever let the world make you feel so small. -Andrew Durst.
0
Nov 6, 2017
Nov 6, 2017 at 10:32 PM UTC
Coexist (ramblings)
This is not your role. You're not here to stay. But don't forget your lines. Say it anyway... "I love you. I can't live without you in my life. I want to make you my wife" You play the part well! but you're not the one. You will be replaced when the real star comes. Of course my part doesn't change. I will promise to love you forever. I will say my heart is yours. That with you my life feels better. But these words aren't meant for you. I'm just practicing my lines. I'm so good at it now.  I've been rehearsing a long time. You're just another stand in. In a long line of men. The auditions have not finished. That they will, who knows when? But your role here is done.. Call in the next one... © 2012
0
Jul 7, 2012
Jul 7, 2012 at 12:47 PM UTC
stand in
A daunting challenge. After years Practicing. For that one moment.
0
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 5:04 PM UTC
The Shot
We are watching the clouds bandage an incarnadine sky, we are practicing our best knots, weaving an army of tourniquets, we are slow-dancing barefoot on the edge of a razor. We are watching a demolition derby in the driving rain, the smell of motor oil mixing with gasoline, the hard melancholy of dying machines. We are waltzing from room to room, smearing our names on the floor, we are keeping time to slow music, bleeding out behind closed doors.
0
Nov 7, 2017
Nov 7, 2017 at 8:15 AM UTC
First Aid
Silver blade makes me feel nice. The only thing I trust. As the blade slices through the ice. The blade turns to rust. Years and years. Of practicing and falling. Of sweat, blood and tears. Sometimes all I want to do is play volley. But I would rather skate. Skating is my best friend. I am never late. I am in the rink until the day ends. Skating. Ice Skating.
0
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 10:00 AM UTC
10:00
Her body looks touchy in the light, I urge to play with her all night. Yes, she says and I hold her softly’ I take a deep breathe, to confirm if she’s ready. She didn’t mind, and i proposed for a birthday gift, she can’t say yet. I run one hand up her neck touching her makes me wanna peck For I love kissing.   Across her body, my right hand goes, I have been practicing, believe me, it shows. Another deep breath, the tension reduce staying focus, every moment dues Boldly toast her to the room' She gently stand up, no offends and we move. Getting to the room I gently push her to the wall I make her feel the groove My vibes and my moves Triggers her to do With my two hands, I grab her head while kissing her She close her eyes and French we go. So deep and no, i need to go’ she pull me back. The sounds and feelings grow more immense The movements, become more intense My heart stops as I see the door open Her mom walks in and says; Your guitar is too loud, please turn it down. And she reply’ ok mom. Well, I’m a bad boy trying to be relevant. She forwardly push me to the bed Stylishly she unzip my jean and holds my **** While she **** the head She fingers herself and makes me lick. At the long run, I inserted my sim. She took her face off as she feels the hit She screams and still pulling me in, While I diligently *** her with styles She wonder, who am I Four rounds we go Hard and slow She feels light and dope She’s smiles and says that’s your birthday *** BOB
0
Apr 15, 2019
Apr 15, 2019 at 11:12 AM UTC
BIRTHDAY ***
Her body looks touchy in the light, I urge to play with her all night. Yes, she says and I hold her softly’ I take a deep breathe, to confirm if she’s ready. She didn’t mind, and i proposed for a birthday gift, she can’t say yet. I run one hand up her neck touching her makes me wanna peck For I love kissing.   Across her body, my right hand goes, I have been practicing, believe me, it shows. Another deep breath, the tension reduce staying focus, every moment dues Boldly toast her to the room' She gently stand up, no offends and we move. Getting to the room I gently push her to the wall I make her feel the groove My vibes and my moves Triggers her to do With my two hands, I grab her head while kissing her She close her eyes and French we go. So deep and no, i need to go’ she pull me back. The sounds and feelings grow more immense The movements, become more intense My heart stops as I see the door open Her mom walks in and says; Your guitar is too loud, please turn it down. And she reply’ ok mom. Well, I’m a bad boy trying to be relevant. She forwardly push me to the bed Stylishly she unzip my jean and holds my **** While she **** the head She fingers herself and makes me lick. At the long run, I inserted my sim. She took her face off as she feels the hit She screams and still pulling me in, While I diligently *** her with styles She wonder, who am I Four rounds we go Hard and slow She feels light and dope She’s smiles and says that’s your birthday *** BOB
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46
Parents sent me to see a therapist. Therapist said you can speak freely and tell me all. Therapist won my confidence so I opened up and told all. Felt great having someone to share all and felt cared for. Mind felt good and school rumors about me meant less. Parents had a money fight and therapist quit seeing me. Asked therapist to keep seeing me therapist said no. Show me the money and I keep seeing you as a patient. Hurt returned and felt like could talk to no one again. Therapists are like prostitutes you pay to get a part of your body serviced. I never will be married in real life. I will settle for a net ceremony on gaiaonline with a guy I met. He can't wait to hit it in virtual reality. Got no real life experience in *** but learning to sext. Getting better at it and practicing for my online wedding night. I'm 18, I hate my parents and their ****** up lives. Mom got home at noon from her overnight date with one of her men. Men like my mom because she opens her legs for all men she meets on the net. Dad likes his ****** he chats with on Facebook. Think he cheating on his evil ***** who got with him for his money. Dad likes them young like me and she wont be young forever. She will be like my lonely mom ******** men she meets off personals. Real life marriage is not in my plan. Settling for an net marriage with a guy I met off personals. Am I going to be like my mom?
0
Dec 15, 2013
Dec 15, 2013 at 4:21 PM UTC
Therapists are like prostitutes
He picked up a pebble and threw it into the sea. And another, and another. He couldn't stop. He wasn't trying to fill the sea. He wasn't trying to empty the beach. He was just throwing away, nothing else but. Like a kitten playing he was practicing for the future when there'll be so many things he'll want to throw away if only his fingers will unclench and let them go. -Norman MacCaig
0
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 11:05 PM UTC
Small Boy (Norman MacCaig)
I should waste more time revising. I feel as though it may benefit me; may I extrapolate the fact I stated waste more time, not spend. I could use that time practicing songs on my bass or beating Mario’s *** on the GameCube. I feel mediocre but that’s okay because I AM mediocre; and a sell-out. I should make that point clear. I smoke; not like a chimney, it depends on if I feel like combusting into a cloud of tobacco ash. I would happily crementate my being. I would happily get hit by a car and become the road **** I would happily fall from a concrete building into a six foot deep cavern. Passive suicidal thoughts at eight in the mourning; just like coffee but it doesn’t make you need to **** Just those bitter moments you need to get your day started on the wrong side of the bed.
0
Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 2:53 PM UTC
I'm going to fail all my exams
http://m.wikihow.com/Unhook-a-Bra Pinch the eyelets but oh so gently, To properly unhook the device to safely release paradise From it's containment chamber. This be one of many secrets to unlocking The mechanism that holds some of the happy things The human body artist conceived To perpetuate the Species. According to the internet, To extract joy to the world correctly, Depends upon both your station and your Positioning. Thus, it helps to have GPS, Which most men think is that pointy thing Between their legs, But is not. Given the laws of gravity, And other natural limitations, Sadly that utensil of little avail In this surgical operation. If one desires to release the tension Between the connectors of the protectors, Guardians of her heart, It will be necessary to Let your fingers do the walking. So cut and paste the title above, In your web browser place! Do your homework or risk feeling As petite as a schnauzer. Seems your natural tendency, Righty or lefty, matters in this endeavor, Of which I was unawares, oft pressing the incorrect lever. This, the likely cause of my spectacular Teenage Fumblings and failures. Had I known that fact, In the days before the Internet, Surely I would have brought along my Catchers mitt To step up my game. Sage advice the article provides: *Get a bra, and practice, practice, practice! It gets easier with experience.* But methinks that is a bit of a Risky adventure, Lest you be seen boy, Practicing upon yourself, Or even a dummy, Dummy! So cut and paste the title above In your web browser, Do your home work or risk feeling As petite as a pocket schnauzer. But the most important tip This wealthy article of information provides, The conclusion. In the hour of your desperate struggle, Drooping Ego And Crushed Pride, Ask for assistance from one more practiced, Hopefully nearby, Whose help usually comes with a charming smile of touching condescension For your male idiocy and verbal in-articulation. *She, unawares, that you have got her Positioned precisely where you want!* For when you lift her up, In a free state, the one Divinity intended, and in your arms, enfolded and protected, In one grand poetic gesture, Sweep her off her feet, Her surprise will be **.. O So Touching!**
0
Aug 9, 2013
Aug 9, 2013 at 6:30 PM UTC
Unhook-a-Bra (2013)
http://m.wikihow.com/Unhook-a-Bra Pinch the eyelets but oh so gently, To properly unhook the device to safely release paradise From it's containment chamber. This be one of many secrets to unlocking The mechanism that holds some of the happy things The human body artist conceived To perpetuate the Species. According to the internet, To extract joy to the world correctly, Depends upon both your station and your Positioning. Thus, it helps to have GPS, Which most men think is that pointy thing Between their legs, But is not. Given the laws of gravity, And other natural limitations, Sadly that utensil of little avail In this surgical operation. If one desires to release the tension Between the connectors of the protectors, Guardians of her heart, It will be necessary to Let your fingers do the walking. So cut and paste the title above, In your web browser place! Do your homework or risk feeling As petite as a schnauzer. Seems your natural tendency, Righty or lefty, matters in this endeavor, Of which I was unawares, oft pressing the incorrect lever. This, the likely cause of my spectacular Teenage Fumblings and failures. Had I known that fact, In the days before the Internet, Surely I would have brought along my Catchers mitt To step up my game. Sage advice the article provides: *Get a bra, and practice, practice, practice! It gets easier with experience.* But methinks that is a bit of a Risky adventure, Lest you be seen boy, Practicing upon yourself, Or even a dummy, Dummy! So cut and paste the title above In your web browser, Do your home work or risk feeling As petite as a pocket schnauzer. But the most important tip This wealthy article of information provides, The conclusion. In the hour of your desperate struggle, Drooping Ego And Crushed Pride, Ask for assistance from one more practiced, Hopefully nearby, Whose help usually comes with a charming smile of touching condescension For your male idiocy and verbal in-articulation. *She, unawares, that you have got her Positioned precisely where you want!* For when you lift her up, In a free state, the one Divinity intended, and in your arms, enfolded and protected, In one grand poetic gesture, Sweep her off her feet, Her surprise will be **.. O So Touching!**
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79
i am going to look great i am going to feel great tonight i'm going out i got my best shoes on just got them in the mail in a package delivered from sister and brother in law saying hey it's time for you to start practicing for that 5k cuz it's in the next day and you haven't started running you're still smoking and that race aint gonna race without you your heart may take on a chase from that ******* induced in your veins a few days beforehand how do you think you're going to do when you're running and you gotta spew before you even get to the finish line but i'm going out tonight looking sharp and feeling right trying to put on my best face and take a trip to a nice place where the people all smile and greet you pretty women too oh hey nice to meet you i really enjoy it it's a part of my story on whom ive grown to be man with a plan and a mask a ****** weapon concealed a killer with a smile that man who took on the night and drove it wild some kind lady may even have my child anything can happen whatever you dream up so i'm getting on my best pair of sneakers and gearing up for the race but first it's tonight and i don't have to work in the morning
0
Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 5:56 PM UTC
Tonight Tonight
I wear pajamas when I go to bed, one button-up shirt and drawstring pants both the color of light blue sky they're a gift from my Mom. I feel complete wearing them, I'm ready to fall asleep. It's rare in this world to ever feel so confident. When I put on these pajamas I'm a gentleman practicing the art of a good night's sleep, call me Aaron no more, only Mr. Brown for now on.
0
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 8:08 AM UTC
Blue Pajamas
We once burned witches... No. We burned people who were accused of being witches or practicing witchcraft... never proven but still burned.... burned alive... wether or not they were witches will remain unknown and why should it have mattered if they were, what excuse was that to have behaved so maliciously hateful and cruel I will tell you this though if I had been a witch or knew any kind of witchcraft the first thing i would have done is work out a fire proof charm perfected an unburnable spell an I can walk through the fire and feel a hell of a lot better after doing so spell a my blood and bones burn hotter than the sun spell a you better get that little matchstick outta my face spell before I show you how to burn THE REAL MONSTERS here spell the monsters with the lust to watch flesh turn to cinder and ash monsters the monsters who feared the unordinary who showed any kind of extraordinary monsters the monsters of the masses with crosses that burned like torches monsters the monsters who screamed ****** in the name of.... monsters the monsters who could not see their own reflection for the hideous creatures they were monsters the same monsters that still live today on this side of the looking glasses under our thin skinned social structure still burning witches subtly now with words of disdain full of pernicious intentions towards the lost and the lonely with the cold staring eyes of indifference and hearts without an once of compassion towards the homeless and hungry with the revulsion and abhorrence towards those who love the ones they love the witches being any unordinary that show any kind of extraordinary still being feared for their difference still being hated reduced to nothing but pill size suicides red ribboned wrists rope neck ties for feeling too much pushing too far flying too high dancing in cinder to ash being burned burned for being alive
0
Sep 1, 2018
Sep 1, 2018 at 3:32 AM UTC
Monsters and Witches
We once burned witches... No. We burned people who were accused of being witches or practicing witchcraft... never proven but still burned.... burned alive... wether or not they were witches will remain unknown and why should it have mattered if they were, what excuse was that to have behaved so maliciously hateful and cruel I will tell you this though if I had been a witch or knew any kind of witchcraft the first thing i would have done is work out a fire proof charm perfected an unburnable spell an I can walk through the fire and feel a hell of a lot better after doing so spell a my blood and bones burn hotter than the sun spell a you better get that little matchstick outta my face spell before I show you how to burn THE REAL MONSTERS here spell the monsters with the lust to watch flesh turn to cinder and ash monsters the monsters who feared the unordinary who showed any kind of extraordinary monsters the monsters of the masses with crosses that burned like torches monsters the monsters who screamed ****** in the name of.... monsters the monsters who could not see their own reflection for the hideous creatures they were monsters the same monsters that still live today on this side of the looking glasses under our thin skinned social structure still burning witches subtly now with words of disdain full of pernicious intentions towards the lost and the lonely with the cold staring eyes of indifference and hearts without an once of compassion towards the homeless and hungry with the revulsion and abhorrence towards those who love the ones they love the witches being any unordinary that show any kind of extraordinary still being feared for their difference still being hated reduced to nothing but pill size suicides red ribboned wrists rope neck ties for feeling too much pushing too far flying too high dancing in cinder to ash being burned burned for being alive
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Luxuria (Lust) Asmodeus demon of lust carnal manipulator ****** captor Castitas (Chastity) Embracing virtue honorable wholesomeness not through one’s weakness Gula (Gluttony) The egocentricity with which the Lord of the flies upon us relies Temperantia (Temperance) practicing restraint prudence to judge with regard remaining on guard Avaritia (Greed) The Mammon demon controlling the warmonger with vows of power. Caritas (Charity) Crave unselfishness give unreserved empathy love and sympathy Acedia (Sloth) Deny grace and God so evil shall become fact   when we fail to act Industria (Diligence) Fortitude is a must persistence in conviction zealous for passion Ira (Wrath) In its purest form presents violence and hate Satan’s fate Patientia (Patience) mercy to haters receiving the grace to forgive rewards are massive Superbia (Pride) Lucifer’s downfall for excessive vanity destroys humility Humanitas (Kindness) Sympathy without bias belief without bitterness inspire kindness Invidia (Envy) resentful passion an insatiable desire potent cause of dire Humilitas (Humility) think of yourself less and not think less of yourself don’t exalt oneself
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Apr 6, 2013
Apr 6, 2013 at 3:36 AM UTC
Dichotomy - BAD and GOOD
practicing mental gymnastics insipid memories seeping their way past defensive buffers remembering repressed poisons as a catalyst for making wiser decisions lackadaisical reactions to sharply defined parallaxes warrant an immediate shift fractal spectacles the labyrinth of my innards inhale the cosmological smoke of suggestion words become meaningless when repeated exhaustively semantic satiation slicing away at true intentions paving the way to false inventiveness shallow river beds are loud prouder than their counterparts insecurity overshadows a lack of faith in the faint of heart everything worthwhile falls apart
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Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 1:38 AM UTC
deconstruction