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"rachet" poems
Stupid ugly acting peoplewant me to do everything for them heres what I have to say Shut up and let me be All of yall need to flee Talk and talk and talk all day long shut up and go away Im Not rachet or ***** And yes im nerdy gerdy I dont care what you've gt to say Shut up and go away
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Sep 29, 2011
Sep 29, 2011 at 6:01 PM UTC
SHUT UP!
How I could have know if I reached out now. right, now im hulu watching bleach right now. Lites Cig while I write this down, for the ink. I see things from your perspective. The water, showing our reflection. Ironically? It falls behind me. Word to the six, whats that Toronto weather like? Im a slide you my text now number, so you can advice. Love your smile, that's a wow. Lets add in the pow. Its Mr. 550 you I gee ma. The only woman that bring the desert to the sea ma. uh, idk you birthday from now you libra. So rachet that's a aquarius . If life fair is, well see. Im tryin to see paris, you.
0
Mar 3, 2016
Mar 3, 2016 at 10:27 AM UTC
Needed me
... ….You make me want to return into the shell I already broke out of. I hope you Your You’re happy Because it is now a cave. From which I will spend eternity. Congrats. Congrats on showing me the world for exactly what it is. A place. A dwelling. A dwelling for those who talk against the slow, the weak. THE RECOVERING. THOSE WHO WISH TO GROW. Those who have nothing but good intentions. Intentions not for themselves but. For Others. Congrats. My soul is as rachet. As hated. As Hatred. BECAUSE OF all things that came: Your gossip. Your rumors. Your hidden enigma….*ehem agenda … Got to me. Broke me in front of reality. Naked and bounded by nothing but deceit. Discord. I call on Shiva...but now.. ...Jesus. Please. Show me the broken way. The broken way back to glory. If nails strike me down. I’m willing. I’m willing go further. Not to death. But to suffer. But not suffice or succumb. Because I'm giving in again. I’m giving in...again. “And I’m just holding on for tonight, On for tonight, On for tonight” “Help me, I’m holding on for dear....” LIFE And I decided LONG AGO That I wont. ***** THEM !!! …. “I’m gonna swing, from the chandelier, the chandelier” “I wanna fly” “Like a bird in the night” Watch my tears as they fall Make rain a ghost of A proof Of the broken Broken glass, broken mirrors Broken bones out of Words syntax..... ...
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Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 8:21 PM UTC
Suicide Note #1
I now realized why I was so weak and my tears were so sweet Because of you I act the way i do no cure to my needs I do is weep weep weep and do you care to see me sleep I dont need you looking at my face and lying to me I dont need you trynna upset me Cause you are foolish and weak trynna sell dugs just like a **** Boo Hoo No tears in theses eyes or dont you care to ? boo hoo to you and to all your kids that wanna be you You stanky rachet dope selling fool! And I dont need you
0
Sep 24, 2011
Sep 24, 2011 at 10:38 PM UTC
Daddy i dont need you
Yo Too many worrin about words Too many worrin bout language Too many muthafukkas spoutin off over who said what Well let me tell ya Im bigga Set this off like a trigga Go figga Set a trap like a rigga Then pick her Up at the spot for a gigga Ice cold beer, A 40 for this wigga Rollin fat Get in back Bounce like tigga Up and over place a bet like Doug VanHigga I made that up Bust a nut Fill this cup with a piggy pigga Round *** honeys Rachet with Dirk Ziggla
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Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 10:05 PM UTC
no "n" word...work in progress
So rachet So messy Dont tap me I'm shady. You tap out I'm crazy I'm in I'm covered Dont steady me I'll cheat you I'll eat you Don't doubt me I'll prove you I'm on you, Your in me Dont leave me I'll find you I'm bestest I'm with you I'm lady I'm ****** Dont test me, I'll fill you, With my fist *****
0
Jul 25, 2013
Jul 25, 2013 at 7:09 PM UTC
SLLUD. (So Lady Like Until Dark)
Her lips, Are mine. Her eyes, Sublime. I think of her all the time. She listens to my voice, Her smile, So nice. But to my surprise, She laughs with another. My heart Is torn, Pushed down in the gutter. Sharing happiness with others, Is beyond my advice. As this rachet jealousy Is burning like spice. But one can only learn, For she knows I am right.
0
Nov 28, 2023
Nov 28, 2023 at 4:51 PM UTC
Green
Before I left to walk to your music show in the courtyard, I slipped the knife my boyfriend gave me into my dress pocket. It was heavy enough to weigh down half the outfit, and radiated something putrid or dissonant in that crowd of flowers and sandals and paint and honey-chamomile for the entire duration, but I needed a reminder of who I am now. Being near you at all was already a betrayal of myself because now I guess I'm playing his type: the ******** girl-- the stereotype-smasher-badass-bitch girl-- calling her a "girl" isn't even fair because she chopped enough of her hair to be Wyoming's worst ****** nightmare, and she wears work boots and flannels and scars, (and sweatshirts to cover my secret scrawny arms--) She’s a piece-of-machinery girl, a rachet-and-wrenched-myself-together girl, and it took so ******* long for me to forge a metal exoskeleton hard enough to smother this stupid gushy heart. Because a heart only compromises the real **** I have to do in the real world-- not your fantasy world where no one has a job but slurping your excess passion alone is somehow enough to sustain, and the men sweep bundles of wild violets-- shooting straight out of the New York City pavement-- into their hands as gifts, and their women smile and flip their Pantene-commercial hair in slow-motion, and together the lovers paint poetry onto each other's chests in the dark, and your long-expired promise of that love-- of your dream-- that you had me believing still plunges deeper into my stomach than I ever planned it to and it feels like a white-hot knife splitting me open from throat to bladder-- You came out to hug me when the show ended. I walked home crying a hydraulic expulsion of the final remnants of my old, foreclosed heart. Then he was right there waiting for me at home, and it was so easy to pretend.
0
Jul 2, 2021
Jul 2, 2021 at 10:52 PM UTC
I'm gonna break into two one of these days
Before I left to walk to your music show in the courtyard, I slipped the knife my boyfriend gave me into my dress pocket. It was heavy enough to weigh down half the outfit, and radiated something putrid or dissonant in that crowd of flowers and sandals and paint and honey-chamomile for the entire duration, but I needed a reminder of who I am now. Being near you at all was already a betrayal of myself because now I guess I'm playing his type: the ******** girl-- the stereotype-smasher-badass-bitch girl-- calling her a "girl" isn't even fair because she chopped enough of her hair to be Wyoming's worst ****** nightmare, and she wears work boots and flannels and scars, (and sweatshirts to cover my secret scrawny arms--) She’s a piece-of-machinery girl, a rachet-and-wrenched-myself-together girl, and it took so ******* long for me to forge a metal exoskeleton hard enough to smother this stupid gushy heart. Because a heart only compromises the real **** I have to do in the real world-- not your fantasy world where no one has a job but slurping your excess passion alone is somehow enough to sustain, and the men sweep bundles of wild violets-- shooting straight out of the New York City pavement-- into their hands as gifts, and their women smile and flip their Pantene-commercial hair in slow-motion, and together the lovers paint poetry onto each other's chests in the dark, and your long-expired promise of that love-- of your dream-- that you had me believing still plunges deeper into my stomach than I ever planned it to and it feels like a white-hot knife splitting me open from throat to bladder-- You came out to hug me when the show ended. I walked home crying a hydraulic expulsion of the final remnants of my old, foreclosed heart. Then he was right there waiting for me at home, and it was so easy to pretend.
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