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"quits" poems
They look out from the terrace. At the borders of sight live rocky hills behind brown and golden and olive crop under a cloudless sky. BANG! An artificial cloud. “Mira,” she points, “Venga!” They fly down stairs, diving like sparrows into the street. Boys sprint across pavements and climb; men vault over fences in time for news to reach ears. "¡Ya vienen!" Excitement and fear. The rattling of cow bells and galloping nears. Men bait and dodge horns and escape through doors and up and over red wooden bars. Sticks beat on the concrete ground and closer, louder, gallops sound. Seconds away – until the last, he side steps into a house; indoors, apart, he runs through the foyer and up the stairs around a corner with long strides too fast to follow. She chooses left and sings soprano when doors won't budge and        it                       crashes                                        in. She turns and the fear is paralysing. "FERMIN!" "FERMIN!" "FERMIN!" He hurdles the stairs and explodes but it rams her to and fro, thrashing her head against the wall where horns sin and gore cement and brick. He clasps the tail and heaves its hide from side to side as hooves smash crates of wine - they slip and slide in fractured glass; he finds a horn and yanks the head! He's yanked instead near dead before the men arrive down stairs to punch and kick it; strike and stick it smack and hit it; 'til it fits and quits and flees the foyer, fast and frantic, flying flustered by the frenzy, finally finding pattering paves it peters off down the street. "¿Que ha pasado?   ¿Quien ha sido?   ¡El Balbotin   y la Chicha!   ¡Que una vaca   les ha pillado!" "¿Estas bien?" Dizzy she's there with searching hands and scolding. "Podria haber sido peor"
0
Apr 25, 2018
Apr 25, 2018 at 7:09 PM UTC
Fermin el Balbotin
They look out from the terrace. At the borders of sight live rocky hills behind brown and golden and olive crop under a cloudless sky. BANG! An artificial cloud. “Mira,” she points, “Venga!” They fly down stairs, diving like sparrows into the street. Boys sprint across pavements and climb; men vault over fences in time for news to reach ears. "¡Ya vienen!" Excitement and fear. The rattling of cow bells and galloping nears. Men bait and dodge horns and escape through doors and up and over red wooden bars. Sticks beat on the concrete ground and closer, louder, gallops sound. Seconds away – until the last, he side steps into a house; indoors, apart, he runs through the foyer and up the stairs around a corner with long strides too fast to follow. She chooses left and sings soprano when doors won't budge and        it                       crashes                                        in. She turns and the fear is paralysing. "FERMIN!" "FERMIN!" "FERMIN!" He hurdles the stairs and explodes but it rams her to and fro, thrashing her head against the wall where horns sin and gore cement and brick. He clasps the tail and heaves its hide from side to side as hooves smash crates of wine - they slip and slide in fractured glass; he finds a horn and yanks the head! He's yanked instead near dead before the men arrive down stairs to punch and kick it; strike and stick it smack and hit it; 'til it fits and quits and flees the foyer, fast and frantic, flying flustered by the frenzy, finally finding pattering paves it peters off down the street. "¿Que ha pasado?   ¿Quien ha sido?   ¡El Balbotin   y la Chicha!   ¡Que una vaca   les ha pillado!" "¿Estas bien?" Dizzy she's there with searching hands and scolding. "Podria haber sido peor"
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95
i always thought you were thru traffic that you were just jet lag background noise the kiss in the rain i've never had but what if you aren't? what if this was the thousandth time i have loved you? what if this is just a fresh coat of paint? what if god keeps a handkerchief soaked in the day we met next to his bed? maybe theres a reason i reach for no one in bed the way i would if someone used to be there you know, they say the road behind us is littered with things we couldn't hold onto i wonder how many times you've slipped through my hands like hour glass sand do you know how much erosion you've caused? i heard cupid stopped keeping count of how many times we came together just to come apart again maybe it was just a rumor it makes me think about how many times i've almost had you like if all this talk about history repeating itself endlessly replaying is true i wonder how many times things have happened already like the time i tried talking you into loving me back back fired or the time i could have sworn jesus & lazarus were playing chess with my heartbeat but it was only you smiling how many times have i tried to tell you how many times have you read this poem how many times have i tried not to meet you in my dreams anymore it's like sleep tries to warn me of what's happening before it does but i keep having this dream where i tell you bedtime stories and each one is a different way you die and in every one i can never save you it's like you're this song i have on repeat and every time it starts over i forget the words it's like you picked up the book entitled "us" and the back cover said you'd leave so you never bothered reading it tell me you aren't going back in that bookstore just to do it again or will you tell me tomorrow? or is this the time you don't say anything at all? if this has all happened before if we call it quits before we begin again from the beginning i just want to ask you to be my fire because i am tired of these old lives and i'd like to see them burn
0
Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 2:56 PM UTC
carousel
i always thought you were thru traffic that you were just jet lag background noise the kiss in the rain i've never had but what if you aren't? what if this was the thousandth time i have loved you? what if this is just a fresh coat of paint? what if god keeps a handkerchief soaked in the day we met next to his bed? maybe theres a reason i reach for no one in bed the way i would if someone used to be there you know, they say the road behind us is littered with things we couldn't hold onto i wonder how many times you've slipped through my hands like hour glass sand do you know how much erosion you've caused? i heard cupid stopped keeping count of how many times we came together just to come apart again maybe it was just a rumor it makes me think about how many times i've almost had you like if all this talk about history repeating itself endlessly replaying is true i wonder how many times things have happened already like the time i tried talking you into loving me back back fired or the time i could have sworn jesus & lazarus were playing chess with my heartbeat but it was only you smiling how many times have i tried to tell you how many times have you read this poem how many times have i tried not to meet you in my dreams anymore it's like sleep tries to warn me of what's happening before it does but i keep having this dream where i tell you bedtime stories and each one is a different way you die and in every one i can never save you it's like you're this song i have on repeat and every time it starts over i forget the words it's like you picked up the book entitled "us" and the back cover said you'd leave so you never bothered reading it tell me you aren't going back in that bookstore just to do it again or will you tell me tomorrow? or is this the time you don't say anything at all? if this has all happened before if we call it quits before we begin again from the beginning i just want to ask you to be my fire because i am tired of these old lives and i'd like to see them burn
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91
I've waited forever for you, watching time tick by, the more I wait, the longer you take, why, oh , why can't you load? Staring at the screen, stuck in one place, can't leave, can't bear to stay. Why must you torture me so? The promise of fun and games, if only I could get past the loading stage. The more I want to play, the longer you take, is it a sign? Should I call it quits? But, no, I must finish this.
0
Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 11:14 PM UTC
Waiting
The mind of that girl is a pain sanctuary whose aching decreases due to a world that's imaginary. From home she goes out to get away, and all those nights in stranges she relies. The soft morning breeze tenderly dries the tears in her cheeks, and childishly it peeks through her bloodshot eyes looking for a trace of peace. Nobody could really tell if she, bones and flesh, is still alive or if she's just a wanderer ghost. Probably the only one of her kind. The dark circles under her eyes are a proof of the restless crying nights. The tangled auburn messed up hair tells she didn't sleep at home, but no one cares. Picking up flowers on the way back home, humming songs that once made her feel whole. She rests for a few hours and once awake she grabs a pen, she writes down a poem before she gets drunk again. Somehow she finds calm in the simple things of life, and she tries not to think about the coldness in her eyes. Barely getting through, day by day, trying not to be absorbed by all the grey. Amassing countless heartbeats to the final point where life she quits.
0
Mar 25, 2018
Mar 25, 2018 at 10:17 PM UTC
The girl who is in ruins.
Silence surrounds                                                            The sun still shines but loneliness cannot exist                                               on this perfect day Not in a place                                                                        except, too often, where time never quits.                                                       no children play. It's unfortunate                                                                       The empty park that bit by decaying bit                                                    beyond these walls our generations keep                                                             cries in memory losing grip.                                                                         of laughs and falls. It's a terrifying thought that                                                              But wait, when asked "what time is it?"                      does hope approach at dawn? it'll seem foreign and insane                               He pauses to finish a text.. to glance at my wrist.                                                    And then he is gone.
0
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 5:54 AM UTC
Regeneration
Silence surrounds                                                            The sun still shines but loneliness cannot exist                                               on this perfect day Not in a place                                                                        except, too often, where time never quits.                                                       no children play. It's unfortunate                                                                       The empty park that bit by decaying bit                                                    beyond these walls our generations keep                                                             cries in memory losing grip.                                                                         of laughs and falls. It's a terrifying thought that                                                              But wait, when asked "what time is it?"                      does hope approach at dawn? it'll seem foreign and insane                               He pauses to finish a text.. to glance at my wrist.                                                    And then he is gone.
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12
*I lost my innocence in a battle of wits Over a dinner of boiled rice and fried meats His debate ground my overrated intelligence to bits But it wasn't time, I wouldn't call it quits We went on to the starlit, moonful park We weren't sightseeing, I had to hit my mark Everything I said was turned down with a reasonable reason The more I tried to win the more I kept losing We walked and talked and I realized That our supposedly romantic dinner had been politicized As we stood on my porch and called it a night His lips touched mine, I didn't put up a fight I laid a final claim in regards to our banter His keen eyes widened I'd given him something to ponder Later that night, I received his call He asked for a rematch, I smiled, there'd be another date after all*
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May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 6:26 PM UTC
The Second Date
“The Carousel” February 7th, 2014. Valerie Viele There is never a moment to stop A real stop A true stop A sincere stop When everything quits, halts, ceases and refrains No matter where one stands or what character one sits upon Even if one is stationary The carousel still revolves One can walk this way One can walk that way One can lie down but the carousel still revolves Can one get off? Can one get back on? Can one make the choice? There is never a moment to stop and the carousel still revolves SSK<3
0
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 2:29 AM UTC
"The Carousel"
One day my best friend sent me her poems, And one poem hit far too close to home, Heartbreak Girl. In it she talked about a commercial, A commercial where a man quits smoking, And being separated from the addiction Turns him into a mess. She writes: "It was on Heartbreak Girl, The days when I couldn't eat for missing her. When every moment was made of fear That I would see something that would tear me open and make me miss her Make me re-realize that she was over (And so was I.) (The me I loved, whose ghost I still look at in the mirror behind me.) (The me I never got to say goodbye to before she died.) " These words, became a cautionary tale... I know, in a matter of weeks, I will be the Heartbreak Girl. I will be a mess. I will not be easy to put back together. My wounds will all be opened, stinging as I feel the wind blow against them. And it's gonna hurt like hell. But there will be a difference between me and the Heartbreak Girl: I know it's coming. I watch as the sand falls through the hour glass, And with every grain of sand, my heart breaks a little bit more. I try to keep it together. I try not to look at the hourglass, But there it sits, in plain sight. Unavoidable. It's coming, any day now. And it will break. But since I know it's coming, I use the Heartbreak Girl's story to remind me That at least I have a chance to say goodbye To him But more importantly to me The me I was when I told him my dreams were coming true... When I told him I was leaving... And he picked me up, spun me around, and kissed me... Because he was struck by a moment of genuine euphoria… For me. In that moment, I had everything I had ever wanted. I was the me I always wanted to be. I have a chance to say goodbye to her. And I want to do it right. That girl is everything I ever wanted to be. And I'm terrified to leave her behind. Because I really love her. But I know it's only a matter of time until I have to. And I'll be ****** if I don't give her a proper goodbye. I worked too hard and too long not to give her the goodbye she deserves. When it's time to say goodbye, I will go to that spot. I will stand there, And I will let her go, She can't stay forever, Because if she could, she wouldn't be such an enigma, I would eventually take her for granted, And I never want to do that. Because she's perfect. At least to me. Once I let her go, I will make way for the new girl, Who I'm excited to meet, And who I'm excited to become, Even though, a part of her will be broken, Eventually the wounds will somewhat heal. Somewhat. She will be amazing, And most of what I've always wanted her to be, Except for the missing piece of her heart... Because when I say goodbye to the girl I am now, I will also leave a piece of my heart in that spot. And it will forever stay in that spot. In a place that I know he will be. In the place that he needs to be. To become the man HE always wants to be, And to the man I genuinely want him to become. Even if it is without me: The Heartbreak Girl. Who I will have to become in order for him to be who he wants to be. It's a sacrifice I'm willing to make. For him. After the funeral, eventually I will have a reason to smile. Because I have sacrificed so much. So that we can become the people we always wanted. Even if we don't have each other. Even if I am The Heartbreak Girl.
0
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 11:15 PM UTC
A Response to Heartbreak Girl
One day my best friend sent me her poems, And one poem hit far too close to home, Heartbreak Girl. In it she talked about a commercial, A commercial where a man quits smoking, And being separated from the addiction Turns him into a mess. She writes: "It was on Heartbreak Girl, The days when I couldn't eat for missing her. When every moment was made of fear That I would see something that would tear me open and make me miss her Make me re-realize that she was over (And so was I.) (The me I loved, whose ghost I still look at in the mirror behind me.) (The me I never got to say goodbye to before she died.) " These words, became a cautionary tale... I know, in a matter of weeks, I will be the Heartbreak Girl. I will be a mess. I will not be easy to put back together. My wounds will all be opened, stinging as I feel the wind blow against them. And it's gonna hurt like hell. But there will be a difference between me and the Heartbreak Girl: I know it's coming. I watch as the sand falls through the hour glass, And with every grain of sand, my heart breaks a little bit more. I try to keep it together. I try not to look at the hourglass, But there it sits, in plain sight. Unavoidable. It's coming, any day now. And it will break. But since I know it's coming, I use the Heartbreak Girl's story to remind me That at least I have a chance to say goodbye To him But more importantly to me The me I was when I told him my dreams were coming true... When I told him I was leaving... And he picked me up, spun me around, and kissed me... Because he was struck by a moment of genuine euphoria… For me. In that moment, I had everything I had ever wanted. I was the me I always wanted to be. I have a chance to say goodbye to her. And I want to do it right. That girl is everything I ever wanted to be. And I'm terrified to leave her behind. Because I really love her. But I know it's only a matter of time until I have to. And I'll be ****** if I don't give her a proper goodbye. I worked too hard and too long not to give her the goodbye she deserves. When it's time to say goodbye, I will go to that spot. I will stand there, And I will let her go, She can't stay forever, Because if she could, she wouldn't be such an enigma, I would eventually take her for granted, And I never want to do that. Because she's perfect. At least to me. Once I let her go, I will make way for the new girl, Who I'm excited to meet, And who I'm excited to become, Even though, a part of her will be broken, Eventually the wounds will somewhat heal. Somewhat. She will be amazing, And most of what I've always wanted her to be, Except for the missing piece of her heart... Because when I say goodbye to the girl I am now, I will also leave a piece of my heart in that spot. And it will forever stay in that spot. In a place that I know he will be. In the place that he needs to be. To become the man HE always wants to be, And to the man I genuinely want him to become. Even if it is without me: The Heartbreak Girl. Who I will have to become in order for him to be who he wants to be. It's a sacrifice I'm willing to make. For him. After the funeral, eventually I will have a reason to smile. Because I have sacrificed so much. So that we can become the people we always wanted. Even if we don't have each other. Even if I am The Heartbreak Girl.
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89
If you must know the truth There are those just like you Going through their struggles too In this you are not alone In this vast conspiracy That is life to you and me Daily knocking to the knees In this you are not alone If you find your needing help With difficulty to work it out With the cards that you've been dealt In this you are not alone Problems that daily confront you Others have the same ones too Under the sun there's nothing new In this you are not alone You find yourself at the foot of break More wrongs than rights, mistakes you've made Where there seems no save in this giveaway In this you are not alone You often feel like calling quits As the world you're in no longer fits Making no sense in all of it In this you are not alone Mark this moment down as truth No matter what you're going through You have me beside of you In this you are not alone
0
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 8:52 AM UTC
You Are Not Alone
She is My cream nicotine The Surging through our blues The fluidity of divinity Juxtapose Whoever said love was easy… Yeah 'Ol Chap, they Sure had it right, Because no man or lady can ever Subtract Once their hue has mixed it can never go back. 2 Whipped Cream and Other Delights. And why would you? The dregs are bitter, The milk too sweet. If you water it down then All flavor retreats Life is just better off Bitter-Sweet, Cream never asks coffee On how it should mix Why do we attempt these liquid alchemy tricks? The intrusion is dilution of the Makers choice Through imperfection comes the lesson Learned perception with each sip The air red dried truth The Words stuck to the lips Tasters Digest the last drink drips Yet I question why I am so subject to infusion Her meaningful quips Why we attempt these liquid alchemy tricks? Still I question why I am so subject to the infusion of Her Dips Sometimes I call it Love Sometimes I call it Quits For You My Dear Let's Cheers Another Grip of Seared Buds and Belly Aches and Lactose Licorice So Pour Another! while the Argument still in Air and While Dilutions of gratification Grind into Frothy Despair
0
May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 8:13 PM UTC
Cream Nicotine
The houses of my Babylon lean upon each other. They will not fall, not until the last hard hand quits the last hammer, not until misfortune loses prey, not until the least last child is gently packed in wool and sent to play. Sooner will you hear their see-saw hinges wail. Will you then ask of them a song of home? The windows of the houses of my Babylon lay bear the walls around them. Who but gray grandfathers marking time press their noses to the glass? The visions of their lonely vigils fade, half life unrecorded, shadows on parade, whispered secrets kept secret. You will never know with what intent they overlook your passing through. Rain tears on the windows of the houses of my Babylon, the bath of unattended panes dropped free from heaven. They will not wash clear. They will ever wear the haze of tainted air. You think this stain the mark of unrepentant sin. Who, then, gives the absolution of so many brown-burned fingers that will not scrub up?
0
Nov 10, 2012
Nov 10, 2012 at 1:21 PM UTC
Babylonian Exile
I had the intention of just calling it quits giving up on this life of mine that's shredded to bits but oh my, I stopped in here at this HP site and met a few folks who helped set things right --they listened and gave a few kind words to me and suddenly I realized I could set myself free, that I could stop wallowing in the dread and the fear of what my ex had so long forced me to hear-- Now-- I've blocked out his cruel words he threw out at me and instead replaced them with words from Hello Poetry! Since coming here and finding this place, I'm slowly learning that this smile on my face belongs there now and it matches the one in my heart! So thank you, dear friends here for helping me start to appreciate the opportunities I can now explore and thank you so much for opening that new door of hope and possibilities that are surely waiting for me-- I'll do my best to stay unbound, to stay forever free!
0
Jul 4, 2015
Jul 4, 2015 at 12:23 AM UTC
Intention turned to Gratitude
This is more than “block” or “hide posts.” No, this is permanent, this is calling it Quits, this is “we cannot be civil towards each other after all, we cannot bear to even potentially see each other on our newsfeeds.” Unfriend. We are not Friends. We are Over. Unfriend means “out of sight, out of mind.” Is it a feeling of relief at the finality of something that wasn’t working, or a sinking feeling that yet another relationship has gone down the tubes? Probably a sick combination of both – unfriend means you’ve both finally called a ***** a ***** Given Up. “…I am done trying to be friends with you,” written in the Final message. Is anything really Final? It’s hard to know. Human relationships are messy. We try to cut people off when they hurt us. Unfollow on tumblr, block phone numbers, delete them on skype, unfollow on twitter, but sometimes we run back to each other when we cool off, despite ourselves, we think, no, it can’t be The End, it can’t be Unfriend, we had things in common, we had something, surely it can’t be Over. Can't we try again? But “Every new beginning come from some other beginnings end” as a song goes, and some endings are necessary. What we don’t want to admit to ourselves is that not everyone is a Good or healthy person, no matter how many chances you give them. And maybe some relationships are doomed from the start, maybe it really was your fault and you are just “incredibly selfish,” maybe it was their fault, it was probably everyone’s fault somehow or another in the end. There is a drop down option on facebook called Unfriend and when it’s finally utilized, no one really feels good about it. All it means is that it’s time to move on, once again. Find someone new. There are other fish in the sea.
0
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 12:03 AM UTC
There is a Drop Down Option on Facebook Called Unfriend...
This is more than “block” or “hide posts.” No, this is permanent, this is calling it Quits, this is “we cannot be civil towards each other after all, we cannot bear to even potentially see each other on our newsfeeds.” Unfriend. We are not Friends. We are Over. Unfriend means “out of sight, out of mind.” Is it a feeling of relief at the finality of something that wasn’t working, or a sinking feeling that yet another relationship has gone down the tubes? Probably a sick combination of both – unfriend means you’ve both finally called a ***** a ***** Given Up. “…I am done trying to be friends with you,” written in the Final message. Is anything really Final? It’s hard to know. Human relationships are messy. We try to cut people off when they hurt us. Unfollow on tumblr, block phone numbers, delete them on skype, unfollow on twitter, but sometimes we run back to each other when we cool off, despite ourselves, we think, no, it can’t be The End, it can’t be Unfriend, we had things in common, we had something, surely it can’t be Over. Can't we try again? But “Every new beginning come from some other beginnings end” as a song goes, and some endings are necessary. What we don’t want to admit to ourselves is that not everyone is a Good or healthy person, no matter how many chances you give them. And maybe some relationships are doomed from the start, maybe it really was your fault and you are just “incredibly selfish,” maybe it was their fault, it was probably everyone’s fault somehow or another in the end. There is a drop down option on facebook called Unfriend and when it’s finally utilized, no one really feels good about it. All it means is that it’s time to move on, once again. Find someone new. There are other fish in the sea.
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1
Maybe I'm just ****** in the head that's why I'm never happy, I give, they take, I get nothing in return but a fake safety net if it all crumbles "but I gave you that" "remember that one time.." sure I've done a lot for them but the scales are never balanced once someone calls it quits
0
Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 8:39 PM UTC
Libra Problems
She remembers the day the stick turned blue, “wow for **** up the spout” He remembers her smile when she told him.  Smile, really? Then there was telling her parents, “okay we'll make this work” Then there was telling his parents, “You threw your scholarship away for this ***** you're a dumb *** She remembers the morning sickness He remembers the hangovers She felt warm inside when he said it was her choice He felt like dying when she said she was keeping it She framed the first ultra sound photo He deleted his Myspace page She noticed the day she started showing The same day he noticed the legs on the waitress She was snickered at behind locker doors He quit the team Her mom brought home baby shoes His mom circled the classifieds She got peanut butter cravings He got hand gun cravings It's a girl It's a girl She remembers finally talking again after four months He remembers being cornered after 3rd period She wanted to pick names He wanted to hang up She remembers their second first date He remembers how nice she was This could really work please kiss me goodnight We'll see how this goes please don't kiss me The doctors say the shadow on the ultra sound could be nothing What if the thing on the picture is something She prays for the health of Amelia He begs God to do something about this They have such a bright future ahead He had such a bright future ahead She goes to Goodwill for maternity clothes He rings her up at the cash register with a kiss She remembers buying baby clothes at the mall He remembers how cute the onesies were She sees him smile Amelia...good name She's due next week He packs his cleats to make room for the crib She packs to move into his house His dad packs for a motel She's still craving peanut butter He's still craving the waitress She ate peanut butter He ate the waitress She's in labour He's in traffic Hold my hand Ouch...Okay breathe honey...ouch There's no crying Nice, quiet baby Amelia's dead I'm not a father She cries into her shirt He leaves the hospital She cries into the onesies He returns the crib to Wal Mart She burns the ultra sound photos He grabs his cleats She gets a hair cut He quits his job She returns the diapers and shower gifts His new Myspace says “single” She shops for a prom dress The waitress finds out he's seventeen Her mom hugs her as she falls asleep His dad pats him on the back after wind sprints She can't stop starring at him during prom He wonders if she went to prom She writes Amelia in bubble letters on a piece of paper she hangs on her wall a reminder of what's important He buys a Costco pack of condoms and tacks one to the wall a reminder of what's important
0
Jan 4, 2010
Jan 4, 2010 at 10:17 AM UTC
Still Born Accident
She remembers the day the stick turned blue, “wow for **** up the spout” He remembers her smile when she told him.  Smile, really? Then there was telling her parents, “okay we'll make this work” Then there was telling his parents, “You threw your scholarship away for this ***** you're a dumb *** She remembers the morning sickness He remembers the hangovers She felt warm inside when he said it was her choice He felt like dying when she said she was keeping it She framed the first ultra sound photo He deleted his Myspace page She noticed the day she started showing The same day he noticed the legs on the waitress She was snickered at behind locker doors He quit the team Her mom brought home baby shoes His mom circled the classifieds She got peanut butter cravings He got hand gun cravings It's a girl It's a girl She remembers finally talking again after four months He remembers being cornered after 3rd period She wanted to pick names He wanted to hang up She remembers their second first date He remembers how nice she was This could really work please kiss me goodnight We'll see how this goes please don't kiss me The doctors say the shadow on the ultra sound could be nothing What if the thing on the picture is something She prays for the health of Amelia He begs God to do something about this They have such a bright future ahead He had such a bright future ahead She goes to Goodwill for maternity clothes He rings her up at the cash register with a kiss She remembers buying baby clothes at the mall He remembers how cute the onesies were She sees him smile Amelia...good name She's due next week He packs his cleats to make room for the crib She packs to move into his house His dad packs for a motel She's still craving peanut butter He's still craving the waitress She ate peanut butter He ate the waitress She's in labour He's in traffic Hold my hand Ouch...Okay breathe honey...ouch There's no crying Nice, quiet baby Amelia's dead I'm not a father She cries into her shirt He leaves the hospital She cries into the onesies He returns the crib to Wal Mart She burns the ultra sound photos He grabs his cleats She gets a hair cut He quits his job She returns the diapers and shower gifts His new Myspace says “single” She shops for a prom dress The waitress finds out he's seventeen Her mom hugs her as she falls asleep His dad pats him on the back after wind sprints She can't stop starring at him during prom He wonders if she went to prom She writes Amelia in bubble letters on a piece of paper she hangs on her wall a reminder of what's important He buys a Costco pack of condoms and tacks one to the wall a reminder of what's important
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74
BFF, BF, FWB The titles for you changed too quickly We barely enjoyed the first two But the last was a blast Touching, kissing, and a whole lot of *** In our third year I called a quits I wanted love and you just wanted to hit Now I'm feeling a bit green While you ***** some new chick But not because she has you I just miss the **** I'm glad we're still friends and that you still call Losing you would mean losing it all First love, kiss, and **** All wrapped in one Our relationship ****** But it was fun
0
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 6:33 PM UTC
It Was Fun
I hate the way you treat me,you make me want to yell at the top of my lungs and scream! Is this the way a home is supposed to be, I thought we were all supposed be in peace and harmony. I tear these walls down and destroy this house that we all share, Revealing all the "love and care" you where supposed to bare. I'm sick and tired of all the fighting and all of the manipulation, you say we're all family, I call it humiliation. Your such a 2 faced person your like a dime, you say one thing and then say another you can never make up your mind. I'm glad I'm moving out, joining the marines was best decision with out a doubt. You say your tired of everyone's **** yet we're tired of it all maybe it's time we call it quits. Don't get me wrong I love you all, but sometimes I honestly wana break down these walls.
0
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 11:10 PM UTC
Anger
Barbie's undercover of the book that never quits Manipulative and menacing but, she never spits An evil being, a beauty queen, more than some t.v. b*tch I wish I had a rheostat, I'd lower/light her switch Barbie's chasing boys again, her husband doesn't care She's riding barefoot on the back of a costar or a queer She tilts her head/hair back and forth, pretends she doesn't care It's that silly kind of carefree movement; majic's in the air And I'm Watching Barbie in the afternoon I've not much more to do She's so much more than a piece of meat Barbie, so petite Well wouldn't it be great to meet, to see her face to face Forty years fly bye too fast but, That's the Barbie pace She knows her children have a mind thew grew all by their own They have to learn from their mistakes even when they've grown She wants to help her daughter out by jumping in a lake But this ain't mike, tom, chris, or jake; this could be a mistake Barbie's in a bubble bath, she's naked as a jaybird With happy smile, ear to ear, she relaxes and spreads cheer More bubbles flow from a bottle emptied quickly I only can imagine underneath her skin now prickly Watching Barbie in the afternoon Barbie, she's so sweet So much more than just a piece of meat Barbie, so petite Well, wouldn't it be great to meet to see her face to face, Barbie Share!
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Nov 7, 2015
Nov 7, 2015 at 12:49 PM UTC
Watching Barbie
My Biggest Mistake.. I won't say that I love you Cause I've said it too MUCH I won't tell you that I miss you Cause I never heard you say IT I won't say that I want you Cause I could never be under such a TITLE Only a fool would believe all the things you SAY... I don't feel a connection with you Cause all I ever heard from you were LIES I don't feel protected around you   Cause all I ever did was felt UNSAFE I don't feel loved when im with you Cause all I ever did was be a second OPTION Only a fool would stick around for such a very LONGTIME I can't take it anymore Cause all you ever did was PRETEND I can't even believe I once called you my bestfriend Cause all you ever did was USE ME I can't see you in my future Cause all you'll ever do is stay in the PAST Only a fool would continue to follow you down the same path I feel bad for the next person Cause all you ever do is FRONT I feel free free Cause now I can be on some me **** I feel like making you feel my pain Cause jealousy is the KEY Now you are officially my rebound you had me picking pedals off of roses because I didn't know if you loved me or loved me not BUT now im officially calling it quits with you and anyone else who has a problem with my decision because I stand tall shouting me, myself, I... I was born alone so ima die alone having a CHEATER is the last thing on my mind focusing on what's really important which happens to be school so mister nameless you have finally been put under the bus now as they say "Once a Cheater always a Cheater" now I know what was wrong with this picture loving you was my biggest mistake! By Zyanneh Frazier
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Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 2:17 PM UTC
My Biggest Mistake
My Biggest Mistake.. I won't say that I love you Cause I've said it too MUCH I won't tell you that I miss you Cause I never heard you say IT I won't say that I want you Cause I could never be under such a TITLE Only a fool would believe all the things you SAY... I don't feel a connection with you Cause all I ever heard from you were LIES I don't feel protected around you   Cause all I ever did was felt UNSAFE I don't feel loved when im with you Cause all I ever did was be a second OPTION Only a fool would stick around for such a very LONGTIME I can't take it anymore Cause all you ever did was PRETEND I can't even believe I once called you my bestfriend Cause all you ever did was USE ME I can't see you in my future Cause all you'll ever do is stay in the PAST Only a fool would continue to follow you down the same path I feel bad for the next person Cause all you ever do is FRONT I feel free free Cause now I can be on some me **** I feel like making you feel my pain Cause jealousy is the KEY Now you are officially my rebound you had me picking pedals off of roses because I didn't know if you loved me or loved me not BUT now im officially calling it quits with you and anyone else who has a problem with my decision because I stand tall shouting me, myself, I... I was born alone so ima die alone having a CHEATER is the last thing on my mind focusing on what's really important which happens to be school so mister nameless you have finally been put under the bus now as they say "Once a Cheater always a Cheater" now I know what was wrong with this picture loving you was my biggest mistake! By Zyanneh Frazier
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28
But what if my dreams are your reality? What if we're really Sims characters and we'll all fade away once someone quits their game? What if my pink, is your blue? What if my floors are your ceilings? What if my water is your orange juice?
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Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 4:59 PM UTC
What ifs
Anxiety reverberates through my body. My chest becomes so heavy that it feels as if a cinderblock has been lied down on it. All of my body's involuntary functions pause to listen to the demons that live in the back of my head. The demons announce to my anatomy that I have no worth, no value. The demons mock my lungs, "Why work so hard to keep her breathing when nobody on earth wants her alive." My body receives the criticisms and obeys the demon's demands. My lungs quit. I cannot breath. My mouth quits. I cannot speak, the only sounds escaping are soft screams. My ears quit. I hear nothing, besides the demons. My stomach quits. It tries to commit suicide by consuming itself causing me to curl into a ball in severe agony. My eyes try to fight off the negativity. They push the negativity out through tears, but it isn't enough. They look myself over in the mirror, trying to find some value. My eyes explore my entire body, searching desperately for something beautiful, something worth fighting for. They find nothing, but disappointment. My hands fight too. They find a blade and slide it across my wrist, a demon escapes me through the tear in my skin. My body feels a slight relief, but soon a different demon rekindles my self disgust. I let the blade dance across my body, over and over again, feeling slight relief each time. Eventually my entire body is bleeding and I am still only slighting relieved of my pain. My eyes work with my hands on the search to find a place to help the demons to escape. There is no place on my body left, that I could use to release my demons. My crying has stopped and enough demons have left my system to breath comfortably. I put the blade away, and slip into bed, my entire body aching. The physical pain is much easier to handle than the physical and emotional torture the demons would have caused. I lay in bed, trying to be as still as possible to avoid agitating my wounds. I cry to myself silently, because I know I'm going to have to rip myself open again tomorrow night. I feel numb enough to eventually to fall into a slumber. Will I spend the rest of my life rereleasing the same demons over and over again, just to feel unsatisfied and numb? Are my demons right? Is my life worthless? Especially considering I'm at my best either when I'm unconscious or when I'm numb? I am so tired of being numb. Agonizing numbness.
0
Aug 16, 2013
Aug 16, 2013 at 8:55 PM UTC
Cuts
Anxiety reverberates through my body. My chest becomes so heavy that it feels as if a cinderblock has been lied down on it. All of my body's involuntary functions pause to listen to the demons that live in the back of my head. The demons announce to my anatomy that I have no worth, no value. The demons mock my lungs, "Why work so hard to keep her breathing when nobody on earth wants her alive." My body receives the criticisms and obeys the demon's demands. My lungs quit. I cannot breath. My mouth quits. I cannot speak, the only sounds escaping are soft screams. My ears quit. I hear nothing, besides the demons. My stomach quits. It tries to commit suicide by consuming itself causing me to curl into a ball in severe agony. My eyes try to fight off the negativity. They push the negativity out through tears, but it isn't enough. They look myself over in the mirror, trying to find some value. My eyes explore my entire body, searching desperately for something beautiful, something worth fighting for. They find nothing, but disappointment. My hands fight too. They find a blade and slide it across my wrist, a demon escapes me through the tear in my skin. My body feels a slight relief, but soon a different demon rekindles my self disgust. I let the blade dance across my body, over and over again, feeling slight relief each time. Eventually my entire body is bleeding and I am still only slighting relieved of my pain. My eyes work with my hands on the search to find a place to help the demons to escape. There is no place on my body left, that I could use to release my demons. My crying has stopped and enough demons have left my system to breath comfortably. I put the blade away, and slip into bed, my entire body aching. The physical pain is much easier to handle than the physical and emotional torture the demons would have caused. I lay in bed, trying to be as still as possible to avoid agitating my wounds. I cry to myself silently, because I know I'm going to have to rip myself open again tomorrow night. I feel numb enough to eventually to fall into a slumber. Will I spend the rest of my life rereleasing the same demons over and over again, just to feel unsatisfied and numb? Are my demons right? Is my life worthless? Especially considering I'm at my best either when I'm unconscious or when I'm numb? I am so tired of being numb. Agonizing numbness.
Continue reading...
1
Rolling hills and sprawling trees Easily lost in expanses of green We lose all our troubles, worries and cares Sometimes ourselves in the frost-bitten air The smoke from the fire rises and curls The quick flowing stream tumbles and swirls. The tent in the meadow, my humble abode Like these old mountains, my problems erode The sun sprints west as nighttime steals in I hunker down to escape the cold wind The fire and I swap stories and smokes He tells me the stories of long bygone folks When the cold is too much, I call it quits I take a quick pull and crawl in my tent Out here I can't feel the weight of the world My shoulders are free, my mind is restored.
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Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 10:47 PM UTC
Camping
hi how high are you? my body is shaking within my own skin my grin shows how high my state of mind is my thoughts lined with pleasant daydreams theme undecided nothing guided only my imagination with my own narration long duration **** hits, never quits visits from old memories carries me away as if a glistening new boat was swaying me away from shore I swore my body was moving to the feel of the waves moving, and grooving proving I am who I am through my dreadlocks and poetry this is my story glory, just exquisite no, not really its ordinary I'm going to cut to the chase life is no race, I'm slowing growing flowing through my deepest emotions my devotion is enlightenment brighten my eyes and live in the moment all thats crucial, with the brutal past and the frightening future let my worries become flurries of snowflakes laid upon the earth and not my shoulders weight like a boulder in the eye of the beholder I hear sweet tunes of floyd feel the keys on my fingertips with every motion smell the stale smoke of cigarettes and marijuana this high as brought nothing but good thoughts and positive energy and talkative vibes nothing describes the uplifting enjoyment won't stop drifting shifting from planet earth to my own birth of reality
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Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 8:17 PM UTC
hi how high are you?
We stalked the dusty terrain as the sun set to dusk The air hung hot and heavy with much animal musk We almost called it quits but we spotted the Ivory tusks The setting sun shone upon turning them yellow gold And the great beast who carried them was many a years old And so they would be told And so they would be told With a charge we hasten down the hill. Ropes flung but the beast still had will. And I aimed my rifle to the climatic **** The shot rumbled across the twilight sky and the elephant had died. The majestic body to the ground it rolled. When they stole the Ivory tusks came over me a lonely cold. And so they would be sold. And so they would be sold.
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May 21, 2012
May 21, 2012 at 3:06 PM UTC
And so they would be sold
It is time to call it quits. It is time for you to go back to the West. Throw in the towel on the Black Sea. You, too. The time has come. Come together and act as a team. I am not talking about religion here. My voice contains a human element. This is a gratuitous insult. You and your nations are powerful, but you are helpless. You have no authority over your belongings or yourself. It is something I keep saying. That is all there is to it. Otherwise, everything is possible. I swear by Allah, the Creator of All. I swear by Allah, the Almighty. One day, Gaza will feed you calabaza.
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Oct 22, 2023
Oct 22, 2023 at 2:13 PM UTC
Calabaza