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"redbull" poems
Drink me away Drink me away Drink me near Where's you fridge I need a beer To help forget And to add more calories I didn't eat today I hope my momma's proud of me Give me love Give me life Give me *** for memory ***** and redbull Is my frenemy Bring me to waters, Early in the morn. Bring me to waters, Two doors from the dorm.
0
Dec 2, 2012
Dec 2, 2012 at 10:25 AM UTC
We've been partying like it's 1999 for too many years
Once       more I am        floored by        indulgence a            greed a         lust a    need complete   me        to bleed in    my        left     nostril. Last night,      I  fell   from   the           sky. Saw    why       I   existed and        misted   the   glass with    my   bind,    i   am   bound I   found   M D A   in   my      D N A A  ray     of Ad   dic  tion— con flic tion,     res tric tion,    cru ci fi xion He was     more than       just a friend Ended in me      coming     back attack of       parachutes. no—not   an      american  raid blade    cut the     lines weighed     out the     fines swallowing paper       and singing the      signs. He  saw  though     the   redbull, the   xanax, the pro  zac, the    this-   that your    mix-   match emotions that    k i l l e d   like   a rat-trap. And   for    what? Artificial    love. A c r a c k in   my    parachute   attack:      I deny. Last   night,    I   f e l l   from  the  sky.
0
Dec 22, 2012
Dec 22, 2012 at 10:05 PM UTC
Parachute
He smells like redbull and cigarettes. He’s a quaint New England cottage On a Paris street corner - Crude smoke licking at the window panes And cheap nylons stretched Across bright stucco.   He’s the reason for a nice pair of underwear. Sing oh muse! Of the heavy-hearted And her quest for elbow patches And tortoise shell glasses. A cloud of confusion from a whiff of cologne - These are the moments when the crossroads Is as plain as freckles Or lipstick on a wine glass. Propelled forward on roller skates Called desire. And white teeth gnawing on broken lips, And we let desire swell and rattle around inside - Until we will never be rid of the bruises. Brick and clouds and red lace and muddy laces And bruises.
0
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 9:46 PM UTC
A Singular Museum Encounter
Listen! Oh, peasants! Be still and hear! Must we live our whole lives frightened like deer? Content to be tossed around like waves, rolled over like dice, wandering directionless through life's clever maze like little white mice? It is time to act and stand tall! When Liberty cries for Mercy, we must answer Her call. They think us imbeciles, fools one and all, We must fight with tools, this tyrant must fall. It is time for revolution! All ye students early rise, stock up on Redbull and take your fight to the skies. We must strike from the top to take Them by suprise, and do not stop until each one of Them dies. We will no longer be fooled by this government's guise. To the skies, you mortal beings!
0
Oct 5, 2011
Oct 5, 2011 at 2:58 PM UTC
Peasants
Here is something I learnt today Be careful on what you spend your pay After a day of fun, I did not think And downed a pitcher of energy drink! Got to the pub at half past seven Drank Monster and Redbull until eleven Finally home and sleep I think But sadly not, bloomin energy drink! What is this madness, I wiggle my toes Why can’t I sleep , my eyes are closed I peek and see all my clothes are pink But still no sleep, bloomin energy drink! Some fine ideas come flooding to me Animation too seems just too easy I wonder if this is the missing link Nah, it’s the bloomin energy drink! So check the web, will I be alright? Paranoia seems so much worse at night Dad is up, my eyes don’t blink I’ll be fine he says, bloomin energy drink! So never again, I’ll be a good Daughter I’ll probably now just stick to water, You can drink so much just from the sink And no more bloomin energy drink!!
0
Mar 25, 2022
Mar 25, 2022 at 6:44 AM UTC
ENERGY DRINK BLUES
Here we are again. Lying on my side, You running your nonexistant nails Down the curves of my bare back. "I can't tell what you're writing." "I'm not writing, stupid. I'm drawing." And I lay there Reveling for 10 minutes, Not at the comfort of being touched, But because it's your fingertips Tracing your silly doddles Across my bare skin. I'm not sure how we got here. From crab rangoons and redbull, To sushi and back scratches; From best friends to this, This thing so out of touch With any sensical title. I'm too much of a **** To even begin to act like I notice, To show that I'm more aware than I seem. Time for a new distraction. "Meet Virginia" is on, time to tease you.
0
May 6, 2012
May 6, 2012 at 10:25 PM UTC
Silly Doodles
i must be some sort of permanently exhausted pigeon; claws clinging to the telephone wire drearily blinking my way through the morning meeting of the aerial acrobatic society. i am a seagull swarmed amongst the chirpy conjecture of these early birds; and my soul caws an honesty, a wail, a howl, the truth. i am a tainted swan grittily paddling myself through the marsh we call this world, a lone observer of the acrobats, the stickiness of my feet keeping me flightless. and you are a swallow; redbull wings migrate you to warmer climates. you hear the seagulls but listen to the pigeons. you notice the swan but her murky shallows are too icy for your liking. and you are a chicken; blind beyond your own free-range vicinity. you catch the pigeons as jet planes, and the seagull's whisper is alien. you don't know miss swan.
0
Nov 24, 2016
Nov 24, 2016 at 8:02 AM UTC
beaker
I am the cover-up Hiding your wrinkles and disguising the lines On those who live like you, And you are the RedBull and ***** on the rocks, Giving nights on the run and mornings straight from hell, To those who live like me. Days crumble like the burning of your bridges That you had precariously built upon nights Full from the first sip to the last drops Before the strange beds you awaken in. Sleeping and slaving away by day So that you can reign as Queen upon the Knight. But, in time you will awake to find That I am not there by your side, And as you stumble to the mirror, Your reflection without me has become something you despise. So go from guy to disguise and know You'll never find another as good to you as me.
0
Feb 17, 2012
Feb 17, 2012 at 3:47 AM UTC
Rude Awakening
You leave the apostrophes to someone else, I can't even make it in to 'im', instead I'm writing papers about the Oneida and Jonestown murders. The television is on, the air purifier is dying. I can hear the ***** fan belt of my laptop on the fritz or the fizzy bubbles of The Cranberry Redbull that I'm trying. I could be a great sport. Ya know, anything you want. Jump to. Make the Miso soup, clear off the kitchen table, buy brand new markers with no recent pictures drawn into their nibs. Throw in comfy pants. I don't know what else I have to offer, a clean bath? Some books? A magazine? The weather is exciting, we could call get Pneumonia or at least share a drink and catch Hep-C, Put our children together to catch the gift of Shingles. A motorcycle toy for my Uritis it is better. The roses from the sweater paired with leather, leggings, and a kick *** song. Inside we can talk about his hair cut and going to California. I'm intimidated by you moreover when you tell me you can eat airplanes with only your bare hands. And even if I'm a bore, I still have Streptococcus. So seal and deliver. My cerulean goddess, with the best, thank thank you for the nightmare fever you stole from the words I wrote. And at the end of your book you don't have to cop out and fall along a crippled sky. With crippled words, verbs, and losers. Score cards of different colors. Tunics proud as the walk to the river we voted from Baptism to demon-voter. Stand and deliver, flora and fauna that threatens to eat our home.
0
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 3:11 AM UTC
Cessna 360
You leave the apostrophes to someone else, I can't even make it in to 'im', instead I'm writing papers about the Oneida and Jonestown murders. The television is on, the air purifier is dying. I can hear the ***** fan belt of my laptop on the fritz or the fizzy bubbles of The Cranberry Redbull that I'm trying. I could be a great sport. Ya know, anything you want. Jump to. Make the Miso soup, clear off the kitchen table, buy brand new markers with no recent pictures drawn into their nibs. Throw in comfy pants. I don't know what else I have to offer, a clean bath? Some books? A magazine? The weather is exciting, we could call get Pneumonia or at least share a drink and catch Hep-C, Put our children together to catch the gift of Shingles. A motorcycle toy for my Uritis it is better. The roses from the sweater paired with leather, leggings, and a kick *** song. Inside we can talk about his hair cut and going to California. I'm intimidated by you moreover when you tell me you can eat airplanes with only your bare hands. And even if I'm a bore, I still have Streptococcus. So seal and deliver. My cerulean goddess, with the best, thank thank you for the nightmare fever you stole from the words I wrote. And at the end of your book you don't have to cop out and fall along a crippled sky. With crippled words, verbs, and losers. Score cards of different colors. Tunics proud as the walk to the river we voted from Baptism to demon-voter. Stand and deliver, flora and fauna that threatens to eat our home.
Continue reading...
10
i didn't say a word. the laughter was wrapping tight about my neck. two ex-girls were blushing, my glance ricocheted off, then landed on my clasped hands. i wasn't in charge of the party. i only lived where it took place. nobody had any alcohol, everybody drank coffee or redbull; talked with foreign class. i wasn't in charge of the music. i only owned the stereo system. so we listened to some pop-punkshit. i started storing excuses, in case someone asked me to dance. the boys were all grinning. the boys were all christians, while they hunted their prey. the girls were all grinning. the girls were all christians, while they still ran free. i played priest. kept my *** on the couch, swore celibacy with every fired neuron. lauren was gone, and amie threw a party. she invited an army of ******** dressed exs just to remind me i hadn't outran my guilt. the laughter started to wane, people looked to me to stir the conversation. i didn't say a word. i didn't breathe. the weight of the room was too heavy for me. i cut myself from the stares, someone asked where i was going, my feet kept moving until carpet was traded for concrete was traded for gas pedal was traded for anywhere distant.
0
Jun 7, 2010
Jun 7, 2010 at 11:46 AM UTC
amie's torture party
were neck deep in cigarettes coughing up pennies to feed each other's piggy banks just to get by kissing left and right in the hallways that are tucked away from the prying eyes but still just as ****** as the last i want to be more then a pass me by- hello-how-you-doin'-grin i want to be the alcohol that hangs on your breath from last night that warmth hanging near that soft spot on your lower lip that i want to take shelter on.
0
Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 12:11 AM UTC
Jägermeister, redbull and ******** in the woods
I shouldn’t write about you, but tonight I went star gazing and I thought about everyone I’ve ever made love with. Your name crossed my mind and it drowned me in a flood of memories. The first time you came over, you took my shirt off like rapid fire. Your breath smelt of ****** cigarettes and Redbull. You’ve been drinking. Your hair was all over the place hitting me here and there. I tried to place my fingers in-between your locks. But eventually I took your shirt off. Ten minutes passed by and we were naked. Your body below me and I was crouching lower and getting closer to your ****** I kissed your thighs, licked them gently like a lollipop, savoring the the taste of your skin. No one would ever taste like you do against my teeth. My tongue. My mouth. You were so wet. I was so ***** We switched sides, you’re on top now. Your mouth against my neck, your teeth making way into my skin like a thirsty vampire you bit me. Your hands slowly skimming my chest and tracing my tattoos. Everything was so perfect wasn’t it? The way the moonlight hit your body, the temperature of the room wasn’t freezing but when our bodies were close we could feel them melting. Funny thing, we didn’t have *** it took us three years for that to happen. I’m not sure if I wasn’t ready too or if I was afraid too. But when we did, your body felt like an ocean, and I was drowning out at sea. I had trouble breathing but you were like oxygen to my lungs and I was alive. More alive than I’ve ever been. Thinking I never loved you would be a lie, and I’ve been constantly telling myself I didn’t. But ********* I did. I loved you so much, but you were the girl with crystal blue eyes that broke my heart. The girl that got away. The one who swam in the night sky and sunbathed perched on the crescent moon. You often cross my mind and I won’t lie I miss you, our ****** friendship we had. The reason being because you showed me how to love myself. I respect you for that, I respect you for the human you are. Even if your feet were cold with me, I learned and I lived, I was the hero in my own story. You will always be an important piece of my life. Even if you’ve disappeared from
It, we were fire and gasoline. We could’ve been beautiful. We will never know now, and I’m okay with that. You are greatly missed.
0
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 1:05 PM UTC
Past tense
I shouldn’t write about you, but tonight I went star gazing and I thought about everyone I’ve ever made love with. Your name crossed my mind and it drowned me in a flood of memories. The first time you came over, you took my shirt off like rapid fire. Your breath smelt of ****** cigarettes and Redbull. You’ve been drinking. Your hair was all over the place hitting me here and there. I tried to place my fingers in-between your locks. But eventually I took your shirt off. Ten minutes passed by and we were naked. Your body below me and I was crouching lower and getting closer to your ****** I kissed your thighs, licked them gently like a lollipop, savoring the the taste of your skin. No one would ever taste like you do against my teeth. My tongue. My mouth. You were so wet. I was so ***** We switched sides, you’re on top now. Your mouth against my neck, your teeth making way into my skin like a thirsty vampire you bit me. Your hands slowly skimming my chest and tracing my tattoos. Everything was so perfect wasn’t it? The way the moonlight hit your body, the temperature of the room wasn’t freezing but when our bodies were close we could feel them melting. Funny thing, we didn’t have *** it took us three years for that to happen. I’m not sure if I wasn’t ready too or if I was afraid too. But when we did, your body felt like an ocean, and I was drowning out at sea. I had trouble breathing but you were like oxygen to my lungs and I was alive. More alive than I’ve ever been. Thinking I never loved you would be a lie, and I’ve been constantly telling myself I didn’t. But ********* I did. I loved you so much, but you were the girl with crystal blue eyes that broke my heart. The girl that got away. The one who swam in the night sky and sunbathed perched on the crescent moon. You often cross my mind and I won’t lie I miss you, our ****** friendship we had. The reason being because you showed me how to love myself. I respect you for that, I respect you for the human you are. Even if your feet were cold with me, I learned and I lived, I was the hero in my own story. You will always be an important piece of my life. Even if you’ve disappeared from
It, we were fire and gasoline. We could’ve been beautiful. We will never know now, and I’m okay with that. You are greatly missed.
Continue reading...
22
it's 2.32am and i'm sitting alone in my room cramming advert notes into my brain for the exam barely 12 hours away i can't remember anything, but it doesn't matter. i'll cram anyway, since it's the only thing i can do now i've cracked open a fresh can of redbull for this **** and i'll take it one step at a time the raw panic when i thought about having to remodule was stark and completely gripping just a couple of hours ago now, i have reached this zen-like calm and i'm not quite sure whether to be worried that i'm being distracted by the thin girls i see on tumblr my stomach growls. i ignore it. it's far too late to eat. the can of redbull i'm having is already 159.75 calories 159.75 calories too many i have never been good with numbers, i once scored 0/65 for a math test 2 months before my gce o levels but for this, i will count i will count like how ebenezer scrooge did. with great precision and scrutiny i was never good enough for you. i never will be. but if there's something i can control in my life, i will make it this less is more, and i, will always be too much.
0
Aug 26, 2015
Aug 26, 2015 at 2:42 PM UTC
numbers
I don’t much know what she looks like. I couldn’t tell you the color of her hair Or the shape of her eyes And if you put me in a crowd next to her I could spend years searching for her face And never realize she was standing right next to me. Because I don’t know who she was, And her name is blank in my memory but I know she had one because What else would my father call her on those late nights my mom spent calling him, Only for the 30 second condolences left by the voicemail recording, No. I don’t much know what she looks like, But that doesn’t stop her from walking into my memory, My mother’s memory, All wide smiles and dark shadows and long fingers interlocked in his, Interlocked in my childhood because The other woman, She doesn’t need a face to haunt me. All she needed was four months and suddenly She was lurking behind my closet door, Under my bed, The places in my head where the dark things hid, She made a home behind my eyelids, So that not even nightlights could protect me. The other woman was a parasite, And I watched as she wormed her way between them Spreading sickness Redbull ***** could never seem to cure, ******* the love and then the life and then leaving them for dead. Sometimes I hope that when she closes her eyes and lays down her head, She can still taste it on her tongue, The bitterness she created when she decided to become The other woman. She had hands like hammers and I never knew a home could be as fragile as china, But watched as shards of porcelain fell at my feet, Glowing red and blue. Watched as my mother tried to pick up the pieces, Her shaking hands always carrying more than she could hold. Watched as my father, the artist, Handed the paintbrush to the other woman, Her masterpiece, Our destruction. Watched as the other woman became the only woman Who could rip my heart out of my chest and still remain unknown. Recently I met a girl in love. Even with his wife and kids. And I recognized the other woman in her smile, her laugh, In her eyes which glowed happy. Happiness I could never achieve because I was the kid whose father stopped tucking her in When he found a better pair of lips to kiss goodnight. The tightness in my chest wouldn’t go away because She told me I should try it. But broken homes aren’t ice cream flavors. Empty beds aren’t party drugs. You don’t take a ruined life for a test drive and I know now that other women exist, But I could never hold a match to a family just to start a fire in my heart. I don’t much know what she looks like, But I know she’ll never look like me.
0
Feb 24, 2016
Feb 24, 2016 at 8:50 PM UTC
Her (Slam Poem)
I don’t much know what she looks like. I couldn’t tell you the color of her hair Or the shape of her eyes And if you put me in a crowd next to her I could spend years searching for her face And never realize she was standing right next to me. Because I don’t know who she was, And her name is blank in my memory but I know she had one because What else would my father call her on those late nights my mom spent calling him, Only for the 30 second condolences left by the voicemail recording, No. I don’t much know what she looks like, But that doesn’t stop her from walking into my memory, My mother’s memory, All wide smiles and dark shadows and long fingers interlocked in his, Interlocked in my childhood because The other woman, She doesn’t need a face to haunt me. All she needed was four months and suddenly She was lurking behind my closet door, Under my bed, The places in my head where the dark things hid, She made a home behind my eyelids, So that not even nightlights could protect me. The other woman was a parasite, And I watched as she wormed her way between them Spreading sickness Redbull ***** could never seem to cure, ******* the love and then the life and then leaving them for dead. Sometimes I hope that when she closes her eyes and lays down her head, She can still taste it on her tongue, The bitterness she created when she decided to become The other woman. She had hands like hammers and I never knew a home could be as fragile as china, But watched as shards of porcelain fell at my feet, Glowing red and blue. Watched as my mother tried to pick up the pieces, Her shaking hands always carrying more than she could hold. Watched as my father, the artist, Handed the paintbrush to the other woman, Her masterpiece, Our destruction. Watched as the other woman became the only woman Who could rip my heart out of my chest and still remain unknown. Recently I met a girl in love. Even with his wife and kids. And I recognized the other woman in her smile, her laugh, In her eyes which glowed happy. Happiness I could never achieve because I was the kid whose father stopped tucking her in When he found a better pair of lips to kiss goodnight. The tightness in my chest wouldn’t go away because She told me I should try it. But broken homes aren’t ice cream flavors. Empty beds aren’t party drugs. You don’t take a ruined life for a test drive and I know now that other women exist, But I could never hold a match to a family just to start a fire in my heart. I don’t much know what she looks like, But I know she’ll never look like me.
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59
I love when he naps in my lap. His arms folded across his chest, long legs almost hanging off the side of the couch. There is a painting of him sleeping that hangs on the wall of his bedroom, and it is very accurate. He’s so sweet, and sleepy when he smiles at me and mumbles “You’re so pretty” before falling back into a quiet snore. I’m more or less trapped here but that’s okay. I’ve got my **** and redbull and him.
0
Aug 2, 2025
Aug 2, 2025 at 9:05 PM UTC
Sleep
Ringing ears Drop dead silence Revealing fears Under the influence Tired flesh Mind awakened Spirit shakened Day is night Night is day Monologue conversations In an overflowing mind Personal revelations   Are harder to find Verbal diarrhoea Fitting nothing in criteria Spreading like bacteria Repressing hysteria
0
Nov 29, 2016
Nov 29, 2016 at 3:21 PM UTC
Redbull *****
i want to slow dance the spring away. i fall in love with you everyday, and if we don't have forever that doesn't really matter. the moments we've had together are enough to set fire to my hesitation and ignite new intentions this is worth all of the heartache that i may later have to face. and all of these days have blown my mind because i never thought there'd be a time when i'd love again. you're more than a boyfriend, you're a best friend. and in this splendor your love is tender i couldn't do better than you if i tried. when i'm with you i'm alive. i'm glowing, i'm holding onto you because i've never loved like this i wish, i could say i did at one point but i've never ever loved this way. which is to say, you make me feel like the world around me could crash and burn but i wouldn't care, because you put out the flames in my head, i could say it's not fair, how i want to compare you to every season love you beyond reason kiss you until i'm breathing the air you're needing. but thank you for loving me, when no one bothered to give me a chance and as we dance away the spring, your smile's still my favorite thing. baby, who needs redbull, when you've already given me wings?
0
Apr 10, 2017
Apr 10, 2017 at 10:33 PM UTC
deux - for april 12
These destructive thoughts are a calamity Driving my mind to the brink of insanity **** this Oops, excuse the profanity But this is the last of this thing called sanity I can no longer be part of humanity I am now so far from sane My thoughts are simply not humane Not quite sure what made things this way Maybe the RedBull made my brain grow wings and it flew away I don't really have much to say This poem really has no point anyway Maybe it's to clear my mind out . . . I am the most sane inhumane insane humane person, no doubt.
0
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 9:33 AM UTC
Spark of Insanity
Travelling at a speed as if for a moment part of my life got fast forward. Like racing against time, and I missed it by that many moments. They come and go, some stay but never too long. They see me. I do too. But they won't ever get me. Me neither. We're in it together,we make our presence known. Yet, there's a very loud silence. MJ's "They don't care about us" takes me back into my world. I'm thinking, perhaps, we don't care about us. I'm looking out, walls of black. Darkness. I'd imagine kissing you. Under the influence of my favorite redbull ***** Grins. The screeching sounds erased that momentary thought. I look away from walls of black. I see you. I thought, maybe I'd like to be you. How would you talk? What do you feel? What do you think? The rumbling sound of the doors, as if telling the person at the other end to slow down. Shifted attention, again. They enter, like sardine packed. As if my phobia wasn't already bad. I can't breathe. I might not make it to the next stop. I might faint and like living dead, grab hold of the handles and turn away. On their seats just doze off. And I'm there gasping for my inhaler. The other side of the door opens. I made it to that stop. Empty spaces, empty seats. There's you, you , you and you. I'm running from this end to the other. I'm laughing without a care. You look at me and think I'm weird. I look at you and roll my eyes. I feel the wind gushes through. I'm running almost the speed it's going. For once I feel happy, again. Like that child I'd lost while growing up. It stops. I look around from where I'd been standing. I alighted. The many doors shuts behind me. Against the walls of black it left.
0
Nov 15, 2011
Nov 15, 2011 at 12:51 PM UTC
Riding On Fantasies
Travelling at a speed as if for a moment part of my life got fast forward. Like racing against time, and I missed it by that many moments. They come and go, some stay but never too long. They see me. I do too. But they won't ever get me. Me neither. We're in it together,we make our presence known. Yet, there's a very loud silence. MJ's "They don't care about us" takes me back into my world. I'm thinking, perhaps, we don't care about us. I'm looking out, walls of black. Darkness. I'd imagine kissing you. Under the influence of my favorite redbull ***** Grins. The screeching sounds erased that momentary thought. I look away from walls of black. I see you. I thought, maybe I'd like to be you. How would you talk? What do you feel? What do you think? The rumbling sound of the doors, as if telling the person at the other end to slow down. Shifted attention, again. They enter, like sardine packed. As if my phobia wasn't already bad. I can't breathe. I might not make it to the next stop. I might faint and like living dead, grab hold of the handles and turn away. On their seats just doze off. And I'm there gasping for my inhaler. The other side of the door opens. I made it to that stop. Empty spaces, empty seats. There's you, you , you and you. I'm running from this end to the other. I'm laughing without a care. You look at me and think I'm weird. I look at you and roll my eyes. I feel the wind gushes through. I'm running almost the speed it's going. For once I feel happy, again. Like that child I'd lost while growing up. It stops. I look around from where I'd been standing. I alighted. The many doors shuts behind me. Against the walls of black it left.
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55
im slowly killing myself with bad habits smoking and not getting enough sleep im living my life like a zombie walking around half asleep there is weed trapped in my body redbull keeps me awake im really growing wings between working and studying my body is beginning to sink im killing myself with bad habits
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Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 8:12 AM UTC
bad habits
Im very proudly the best friend of a survivor. Believe me when I met her I thought "who is this pompous Richy rich ***** Then we met again when things had changed a little. When there were bigger things than what brand you wore. When there was small feet growing inside of us and a fire burning in our soul. This woman has changed me. She has reminded me what mental strength looks like. What it looks like to be "just a normal teen" when at home you are shattered and drowning. She listened to my "I have read baby center all night and I know it all now" rants and held me when I didn't think I could continue. We have gone months without talking to each other and called one another at 3am. She survived ****** assualt at a young age, she survived multiple abusive men, she survived her own inner demons and continues to do so everyday. As for me...Well I am her best friend. I am the one who is constantly checking in with her and adjusting myself to her needs. Why? Because I love her and I need her to be okay too. I am the one who sees redbull and breakfast sausage and smiles because I know her morning routine. I am the girl doubled over laughing with no makeup on in my ugliest PJs because she so innocently looked up from her phone and had no idea what I had just said. But watching her try to confidently tell me she heard me was the best thing I had seen all week. I am here for her. I am here for me. I am here for a lifelong friendship that means sometimes I don't always agree with her and sometimes we will get mad. But she is worth it. The girl I first met, the woman she has become, the woman she will find herself to be....That survivor....She's my best friend.
0
Mar 12, 2017
Mar 12, 2017 at 10:36 PM UTC
Being the best friend of a survivor
Im very proudly the best friend of a survivor. Believe me when I met her I thought "who is this pompous Richy rich ***** Then we met again when things had changed a little. When there were bigger things than what brand you wore. When there was small feet growing inside of us and a fire burning in our soul. This woman has changed me. She has reminded me what mental strength looks like. What it looks like to be "just a normal teen" when at home you are shattered and drowning. She listened to my "I have read baby center all night and I know it all now" rants and held me when I didn't think I could continue. We have gone months without talking to each other and called one another at 3am. She survived ****** assualt at a young age, she survived multiple abusive men, she survived her own inner demons and continues to do so everyday. As for me...Well I am her best friend. I am the one who is constantly checking in with her and adjusting myself to her needs. Why? Because I love her and I need her to be okay too. I am the one who sees redbull and breakfast sausage and smiles because I know her morning routine. I am the girl doubled over laughing with no makeup on in my ugliest PJs because she so innocently looked up from her phone and had no idea what I had just said. But watching her try to confidently tell me she heard me was the best thing I had seen all week. I am here for her. I am here for me. I am here for a lifelong friendship that means sometimes I don't always agree with her and sometimes we will get mad. But she is worth it. The girl I first met, the woman she has become, the woman she will find herself to be....That survivor....She's my best friend.
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Nok forlader jeg min grund, af grunde. Sad fast i blandt mennesker, 20+, kaffeånde, væk fra alt der idealisere voksenlivet, og det der reflekterede en nærmest nær dødsoplevelse i mine øjne. Sad fast i mellem andres drømme, mixed up med ***** redbull, klistrede skosåler som valser ned i gennem jomfruhinden, for at projektere deres drømme med andres. For at finde ud af at de ikke er kommet videre i deres liv end fra sidste weekend. Nok forlader jeg podier, pedestaler, guld, sølv & bronze-mentaliteten, et ungdomsmararidt der altid ender i ramaskrig, ingen solidaritet for den modsatte. Springer ud fra tippen, af egen næse. nogle burde gøre det samme.
0
Jan 14, 2018
Jan 14, 2018 at 12:48 PM UTC
20+
Angels have wings. We do too. We have the wings we need. We have the wings that have us fly and soar to wherever we please. Be it soft feather or smooth membrane or a lash across the back. It's here to keep you warm, need be. Lift you up, need be. Death has wings, too.
0
Nov 19, 2018
Nov 19, 2018 at 7:06 AM UTC
Redbull's Supposed to Give You Horns, Actually (Of Portraits)
I drink Redbull for dissociation, Trying to caffeinate my desperation, As if I could vibrate into the 4th dimension To find myself again.
0
Oct 29, 2020
Oct 29, 2020 at 8:07 PM UTC
Caffeinated Desperation
No more Monsters, Sorry RedBull but you lost my brand loyalty. I will no longer be drinking tartine, All this caffeine makes me forget, It causes problems with my life and love. So I'll save my pennies, To afford a moment of clarity.
0
Mar 13, 2025
Mar 13, 2025 at 2:37 PM UTC
No More Taurine