"resorted" poems
I always ask myself who I am
The question does not let me calm
I think I am an Indian
Some body says 'You are a great father’s son'
I am an Andhraite by birth
And happy to live on this earth
My mother tongue Telugu makes me a man
The other tongue English makes me a Universal human
I know I am a tiny drop in this vast universe
And do not have a big money purse
I have resorted to some immature verse
I know not why to some life becomes a curse
I know I am no longer young
I can’t always sing
The tiredness the old age will bring
But I feel as If I were a poetic king
One day I will leave this poetic kingdom
Some times I am enveloped with this boredom
No king Lives on this kingdom for ever
But the kingdom is a perennial river
Dec 28, 2010
Dec 28, 2010 at 7:57 PM UTC
Here I am sitting on my bedroom floor with a razor in my hand wondering if 155 days sober is enough to deter me from cutting again.
I have been so proud of myself for all of those days,
even when I was at one week and I didn’t think it was enough,
and even when I wanted to hurt myself so bad that I thought I might throw up.
I don’t want those days to have been for nothing,
but I can’t help but think of that time last summer when I was in a constant state of anxiety for 7 days straight during which I tried every trick to calm myself down,
and nothing worked, so I resorted to self harm.
Now my stress and anxiety have been building up for about a month,
and I am so exhausted that I actually did throw up,
and I can’t get up in the morning because I am so paralyzed by all my thoughts,
and I start thinking to myself
“What could be so bad about one little cut?”
Jul 9, 2022
Jul 9, 2022 at 7:06 PM UTC
I learned on the Saturday I met you that "love at first sight" is a serious illness.
It infects the body and consumes it whole, leaving nothing but happiness and affection in place of the empty, hopeless shell it once was.
I learned on Tuesday that good music and Star Wars references assist the speeding up process of a first kiss,
And just how good knowing that it would be your last first kiss ever felt.
On Wednesday, I learned how hard it was not to say "I love you" out loud.
Instead, I resorted it to silently mouthing the phrase when your head is turned.
On Thursday, I learned that you like to swirl the New York Cheesecake and Red Velvet Cake flavors of frozen yogurt, just like I do.
It reminded me of the concept of being soulmates. Our secret dance reminded me of a movie from the 1920s. Thank you, Louis Armstrong, and the lake in San Angelo for providing the perfect atmosphere.
I learned on Friday how easy it is to talk to the person you love for seven hours.
I also learned that I don't care how tired I look in the first photograph we took together, because I've been a different person since last Saturday.
On the second Saturday that I met you, I learned how hard it is to watch a movie alone with you while your lips are so close to mine.
I learned a lesson on willpower, and also that it's easier if we watch movies in theaters. But even theaters can't keep us from sneaking kisses every once in a while.
That day I learned how easy it is to dance beautifully with the soulmate you've known only for a week.
I also learned that I'm not the only person who sees the beauty I see when we are together. I glanced over your shoulder during the Jimi Hendrix guitar solo, only to see our group of friends staring at us in awe. It didn't distract me from the butterflies I had from your arm being around me.
Later that same night, I learned how anxious I feel, slipping love notes into your pocket, and saying goodbye, if only for two weeks.
That week, I learned that two Saturdays is all it takes to make you certain of whom you want to spend the rest of your life with.
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 11:10 PM UTC
there was a sparkle in her eyes
I saw it
I saw it
no one else paid her any attention
and only I noticed the apple cores of her hands
unfulfilled
starving
hysterical
barren
barred
so she resorted to magic
the crazy stuff of existence
like the wheat she stashed in her sandbag heart
and when it found her not
despair shook the earth
around her sorrowful body
permeating disillusion
confusion
immersion in nothingness nothingness nothing
lonely lonely
and bottle caps launched from her fingernails
from the spiraling stems of madness that rampaged through her bulging pulse
with piercing shards of nothingness nothingness nothing
splitting her glowing veins
and sweetening her ever-kind
clueless
knowledgeable
brain brain brain
and where was the world?
Apr 14, 2018
Apr 14, 2018 at 8:26 PM UTC
Heap of failures
Resorted into something much too massive to play out
A catch from third base that became an error
Ending a King's reign of terror
Without a trace
Apr 15, 2016
Apr 15, 2016 at 4:26 PM UTC
I learned on the Saturday I met you that "love at first sight" is a serious illness.
It infects the body and consumes it whole, leaving nothing but happiness and affection in place of the empty, hopeless shell it once was.
I learned on Tuesday that good music and Star Wars references assist the speeding up process of a first kiss,
And just how good knowing that it would be your last first kiss ever felt.
On Wednesday, I learned how hard it was not to say "I love you" out loud.
Instead, I resorted it to silently mouthing the phrase when your head is turned.
On Thursday, I learned that you like to swirl the New York Cheesecake and Red Velvet Cake flavors of frozen yogurt, just like I do.
It reminded me of the concept of being soulmates. Our secret dance reminded me of a movie from the 1920s. Thank you, Louis Armstrong, and the lake in San Angelo for providing the perfect atmosphere.
I learned on Friday how easy it is to talk to the person you love for seven hours.
I also learned that I don't care how tired I look in the first photograph we took together, because I've been a different person since last Saturday.
On the second Saturday that I met you, I learned how hard it is to watch a movie alone with you while your lips are so close to mine.
I learned a lesson on willpower, and also that it's easier if we watch movies in theaters. But even theaters can't keep us from sneaking kisses every once in a while.
That day I learned how easy it is to dance beautifully with the soulmate you've known only for a week.
I also learned that I'm not the only person who sees the beauty I see when we are together. I glanced over your shoulder during the Jimi Hendrix guitar solo, only to see our group of friends staring at us in awe. It didn't distract me from the butterflies I had from your arm being around me.
Later that same night, I learned how anxious I feel, slipping love notes into your pocket, and saying goodbye, if only for two weeks.
That week, I learned that two Saturdays is all it takes to make you certain of whom you want to spend the rest of your life with.
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 11:10 PM UTC
I spoke to my soul about love
She said, do not question it
Do not ignore it.
I resorted to my heart,
Guess what happened.
It skipped a beat
And I was reborn.
I asked scientists and doctors
And people who knew drugs
They said, it's all chemicals
I shouldn't bother myself with
They said I'm too strong
To let it ruin me.
But when you and I
Got under your blankets
And I told you I loved you
You said nothing.
F.Z.N
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 1:38 PM UTC
There's too much of me
So I slice into parts
Don't know who I am
Who I was
Where to start
My fingertips stained
a raspberry color
Let's cut off another
Another
Another
My softness dismantled
Set the mood
light some candles
This hole inside grows
So I must learn to handle
Those times where my head was held under water
Men dont give a **** if "that's somebodys daughter"
When all that you've taught me is I should be better
I think of my past self and send em a letter
The version of me that was put under ground
Carving into myself cause I cant speak out loud
Skipping breakfast and dinner or stuffing our faces
For some sense of control
To hope it erases
The feeling inside
that all that you can be
Is how flesh meat and bone
Hangs off of your body
When your own heart could stop
From barely a flutter
Flesh of the womb
Laying wet in the gutter
Taking what's ours
They go on with their lives
Resorted to tonics and herbs
Backyards and midwives
He said it's not that bad
you ******* faker
Beat in her face
Just to text her phone later
All my exes are crazy
I just wanted to bang her
Cut her down from the rafters
when you know what hanged her
It's funny it's sad
at the end of the day
We're in hell together
Across hot coals we lay
Dress your own wounds
Don't bend over for them
Instead let's
Redacted
Redacted
Redacted
Aug 9, 2023
Aug 9, 2023 at 12:00 AM UTC
I’ve resorted to making wishes on dandelions
For miracles
I know
Will never come
Oct 11, 2023
Oct 11, 2023 at 2:18 PM UTC
if i were to bread my tongue
with rocoto and cornmeal
and twist to reach the andean soil
my tastebuds long for so many nights
out of the year
olfaction and your left-sinus blockage
would stay cradled
in broken-baguette bread-crust baskets,
a trebuchet's missile,
naïve to the horn of the world,
and brittled to a carcinogenic crisp
caped in my earthenblood geysers
en el humo, en la tierra del fuego
in(fierno)
i recount by the tally marks of black felt
resorted to in the puddling of spilt tea,
(like broken china, you never missed
a beat to correct potential error
and my memory),
i count them to remember
the epiphanies standing over a red faucet
a gallon water jug, whistling snail-trickle,
wishing away the cracks in the grout
or the grout itself,
wishing away the cracks in the pottery
or porcelain facade of which
you're so fond and grace with singing cuticles
the fingers of a pianist
lacking the wherewithal
and solid brick gall
to answer the ivory's summons
i am not a piece of clay,
i respond poorly to your sculpture of my surface,
covered in oxides and baked in
hell's oven, your mountain fire
scathes me as it does cedar resin
and i am similarly embittered,
pooling sap & draining smoke
in the embers and dead charcoal
of your embrace
avant le corps, sans l'âme
sans le corps, avant l'âme
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 9:30 PM UTC
I whispered this secret to the ocean, but it was rejected on the sand.
The pressure has become too thick for me to withstand.
The words have over heated, locked in the oven…well overdue.
The truth of this all may burn, but this needs to be heard by you.
An unquenched thirst in a drought…
My world has flipped around, completely inside out.
Before I could find the right words, I resorted to the dirt.
I buried this secret as the seconds ticked…only way to obliterate how much it hurt.
One day the clock stopped ticking, I thought it was well off buried; eminently suppressed.
Come to think of it, the ***** little secret was just compressed.
Constricting so tight I began digesting my lungs…
Nothing bothered me, because everything was numb.
So I replaced my eyes with reflectors from the sun,
My heart fell in lust with the concept of a dark place to run.
Grabbed my lucky charm and a parachute, with the intent to leave one at the ledge.
From the top of the cliff I jumped, just as I made my pledge.
If I were meant to fight this battle, I’d make it to the ground: free fall.
Lucky charm in hand, all dependent on fate’s call.
This is a tough war to face alone, but the last thing I want is sympathy.
Just asking if you’d have my back…if need be.
Pretty well off on my own, I don’t want any kind of hero,
But if you can handle it, meet me at ground zero.
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 1:17 AM UTC
Vicious black rage enveloped his eyes
Electric hate cycled through him
Naturally he resorted to the action he knew best
Graphically and meticulously he planned his revenge
Enhancing his weaknesses into strengths
Forward he went, ready for bloodshed
Undoubtedly he went for is first five on the list
Letting his cold vexation take over
-EC
May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 6:06 PM UTC
Oh! mihi præteritos referat si Jupiter annos.
VIRGIL.
Ye scenes of my childhood, whose lov’d recollection
Embitters the present, compar’d with the past;
Where science first dawn’d on the powers of reflection,
And friendships were form’d, too romantic to last;
Where fancy, yet, joys to retrace the resemblance
Of comrades, in friendship and mischief allied;
How welcome to me your ne’er fading remembrance,
Which rests in the ***** though hope is deny’d!
Again I revisit the hills where we sported,
The streams where we swam, and the fields where we fought;
The school where, loud warn’d by the bell, we resorted,
To pore o’er the precepts by Pedagogues taught.
Again I behold where for hours I have ponder’d,
As reclining, at eve, on yon tombstone I lay;
Or round the steep brow of the churchyard I wander’d,
To catch the last gleam of the sun’s setting ray.
I once more view the room, with spectators surrounded,
Where, as Zanga, I trod on Alonzo o’erthrown;
While, to swell my young pride, such applauses resounded,
I fancied that Mossop himself was outshone.
Or, as Lear, I pour’d forth the deep imprecation,
By my daughters, of kingdom and reason depriv’d;
Till, fir’d by loud plaudits and self-adulation,
I regarded myself as a Garrick reviv’d.
Ye dreams of my boyhood, how much I regret you!
Unfaded your memory dwells in my breast;
Though sad and deserted, I ne’er can forget you:
Your pleasures may still be in fancy possest.
To Ida full oft may remembrance restore me,
While Fate shall the shades of the future unroll!
Since Darkness o’ershadows the prospect before me,
More dear is the beam of the past to my soul!
But if, through the course of the years which await me,
Some new scene of pleasure should open to view,
I will say, while with rapture the thought shall elate me,
“Oh! such were the days which my infancy knew.”
1.7k
Sitting in the exam, everyone was getting bored
May the time passes quickly, I was praying to the lord
Had studied, maybe there would be something to write
But it was no fault, on my side
Yesterday, came from home and didn't reached my destination
As I resorted myself, to a friend' s mansion
There we talked, laughed, ate and slept
Due morning, we realised something we had left
That we were meant to study, and prepare for the exam
Or else, get enrolled into the failer's memo scam
Still there is some time left, for the exam to be over
Till then I, will pretend to be sober
|AB|
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 10:32 AM UTC
Are you happy of what you left?
All the pain and hurt I’ve kept;
You’ll never know,
The doubt upon me you did bestow,
Are you happy you fled so fast?
Fleeing the love you so eager grasped,
Are you happy of the rules you escaped,
Because you couldn’t help but try them break,
Are you happy of all the promises you never proved?
Are you so cruel you stay unmoved.
Are you happy of all you’ve denied?
All my expectations that you defied.
Are you happy that you lied?
Happy you went against for what I cried,
Having said words too premature?
Ignoring all I said to be of unsure,
Are you happy that you’re gone?
Are you happy that you’re wrong?
Guess your not,
And guess you are,
Because you’ve resorted to bullying me thus far,
Are you happy?
That we’re through?
So if you are whys it seems untrue.
Are you happy to escape my whines?
Because I didn’t fall for your practiced lines,
Are you happy you escaped the standards I preach?
A standard your sorry *** could never reach.
Are you happy for this bitter pill?
My broken heart your wicked thrill,
Are you happy you got your prize?
Until you got bored and wished rewards of a larger size,
Are you happy that you won?
Do you think me not strong?
Are you happy?
That you’re weak,
Because no man speaks the words you speak.
Are you happy to be a worm?
As for all the others you did so squirm,
Are you happy?
That I hurt,
Are you happy?
Are you dirt?
Are you content with what you’ve done?
Are you happy with this story you have spun?
Are you happy that little’s been?
Are you happy that things go unseen?
Why can’t you just let me walk away?
Why do you play these games where I must stay?
Are you happy?
I doubt it true,
Because some what I believe you do rue,
It explains of the methods you choose,
Those methods you use to my protected heart ruse.
Are you happy of it all gone wrong?
Are you happy that together we will never belong?
Dec 7, 2012
Dec 7, 2012 at 6:18 AM UTC
As I was calling things you that weren't that hurtful such as ******* and dick, I had realized I had used those far too often and had resorted to a plain **** you". I needed a new angle on the aspect of insults within boundaries. While my need to make you feel inferior raged on I look in the thesaurus to find alternatives to the words I have already used. Of course they didn't have ******* or **** with a list of synonyms. So I decided to look at plain "mean", as I was looking at the synynoms nothing really described what I wanted to put in your brain that you already knew. I glanced over at the antynoms and they were "compassionate, kind, nice, noble, sympathetic"
An antynom to mean was sympathic
An antynom to mean is sympathetic
Sym pathetic
Sym. Pathetic.
You are pathetic with your words to show compassion, kindness, niceness, and nobleness to me. ME. You are not a piece of **** or a ********** a deadbeat or a waste of space, immature or childish, selfish or conceded. You in fact lack the ability to be sympathetic towards me, not totally apathetic. But just unsympathetic to **** me the **** off. And you do it so well.
Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 10:05 PM UTC
Dear family
I know I always seem busy
The devil is trying to get me
I'm M.I.A
And I know that you miss me.
I'm sorry that I've been distant.
Seems everything changed in an instant.
My life is so inconsistent.
I don't know what I'm missing.
Family time, I really don't mean to miss it.
My life it's needs some assistance.
But.
I guess my mind is in another place.
Thoughts off in another world.
I started seeing another girl.
Went up and down man what a world.
But now.
I'll focus on my crafts.
Slowly go up old rafts.
This poem's heart felt that I bestest could finish te draft.
This poem's to the ones I love.
The ones that I miss.
Wish it could all just be cured with a hug and kiss.
Sometimes I go up to the lake just to reminisce.
Of all the things I shouldn't have I know it's a list.
Meanwhile, I'm caught up in my self, in my world with no neighbors.
Stay to myself even if I get handed some favors.
Haven't opened up in a while.
Maybe since I was a child.
When's the last time that I smiled.
Drive in my car Til it's on E.
Resorted to consanants and vowels.
I know they wonder what I'm doing.
What I really be persuing.
Hopeing I can save myself.
Some relationships I've ruined.
Some days I wake up and just ask what am I really doing.
They say family is everything, I feel as now it is the truth.
I should spend more time with y'all.
But I spend it living out my youth.
But it's everything I love.
And it's everything I need.
Family love's the cure and drug even though it not ****
Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 2:25 AM UTC
Well, I tried the paper cut
Like Dr. Kevorkian said
But the band-aid stopped the bleeding
It didn't work, I'm still not dead
I just couldn't do it
The paper didn't cause my death
So now I've resorted to other measures
I'm typing this, while holding my breath
Well, I held my breath
Until my whole head turned blue
I woke up on the floor
Now, what do I do?
There is one more thing
But I'd hate to die like this
For I know it would **** me
To give my mother-in-law a kiss
My wife just told me
That it's time to eat some beans
So I'll eat me some and light a match
For it will blow me to smithereens
Apr 11, 2010
Apr 11, 2010 at 8:07 AM UTC
it’s just how it was.
and so things ended up the way they did.
we were quite a pair;
what with my impulsiveness and your rationality.
as i took a step back, each time i recognized the danger in your eyes, flickers unleashed.
this rendezvous meant meeting somewhere a little nearer than halfway,
not without leaving a breadcrumb trail of weariness.
see, we didn’t get around to the part of burning bridges-yellow and orange and blue flames standing tall. neither did we try dousing ourselves in gasoline just so it could stay alive, sparks like flirtatious moths attune to life.
all that we’ve resorted to was crossing the bridge and rightly so. for all we ever wanted was to learn the language the city lights spoke upon the ripples delving into atlantis’ reach. there wasn’t a need to get past the platform, plainly standing there already felt right.
this is what those weeks were all for. open-door kisses and treacherous things in the dark.
the laughing fits and slow dancing in your balcony at 2am, acoustics faint on your speakers were just ways we came up with in order to **** time.
things ended up the way they did.
your messages left unopened, my secrets i’ve bared onto your lips and your tongue was the ink you’ve etched yours with on my skin. for a while it meant more than that, we meant more than just a jet’s smoke trail of fleeting stars crash landing upon reality. we could only get to pretend for so long that the crash wouldn’t occur even as we’ve made an agreement that we’d still be alright and remain with an exchange of warm smiles and inviting eyes like the first encounter. but pretending could only sit so well in my chest but it can’t quite counteract this particular feeling rushing with intensity, an outrage that’s only worsened as those exchanges are kept.
so forgive me if i couldn’t keep contact, if all your calls go to voicemail-and i try not to listen to them but ultimately fail. the only compromise i aid to is to not reply.
that’s just how it was.
things ended up the way they did.
the passionate flames surrounded us keeping a close watch so they wouldn't engulf us
we were just bridge watchers content on not going beyond nor under
-“bridge watchers.”
May 2, 2022
May 2, 2022 at 10:18 AM UTC
The tales of a man once loved,
He who resorted to misstreating others.
Turned vial, turned dark.
He tore through hearts as if they were a craved meal.
Pulling and shredding souls with words so unforgivable to young minds.
Pushing them towards suicide he felt at ease.
A bully of minds with a cowardly heart.
They will remember him
They won't forgive him
Someday when he passes there will be no audience to his demise,
There will be no tolerance for he who is certain he is above all else.
He is a bully of the worst kind.
One who bullied a young girls mind.
-Kathia Mariana Landeros
Jul 25, 2016
Jul 25, 2016 at 11:45 PM UTC
- on the prompt "Falling in Love (more than once)"
I thought about
this prompt you gave me.
A girl on a train,
I had fallen in love with,
Silhouette of her hair
border lining the darkness of eventide
towards Bangalore.
We met in a ground a year later,
no intermittent contact held,
like quantum-entangled electrons do,
dumbfounded how it'd happened.
And again on the road in Bangalore
three years later.
A direct line to the eye's sight,
first time, under a morning seeming streetlight.
A latch bolded in the color of the eyes,
I longed to deep dive in.
Words finding silence at the wrong time,
so they resorted to not all things
and happenings having reasons
and fear of consoling a needy
in a fear of an upside down going failure.
And like between life and death are only breaths,
the silence between the sentences
was filled with ours
and death by chocolate,
and thoughts of silences
of the other's mind, unheard of,
aware only of an unbeknownst wind
of familiarity of an unknown kind.
I had fallen in love multiple times,
which is to say I'd sifted through
the earth to the other side
and started rising, from it, in it.
Following down the gushes of time
sinking and rising sensations
of guilty pleasures in the chest, insinuating
that the thing of beauty is a joy forever
but only when not possessed.
*********
There's an old man, my mother's father
not loved by anyone, angry all the time
illogically unnecessarily hurting others,
drunk trashing long hair and glasses,
rusted in the smell of decay.
I make me fall in love with him,
again and again and again,
so that he knows he's not alone,
always.
Apr 10, 2017
Apr 10, 2017 at 6:25 AM UTC
I have broken the silence, my wounded heart cries out,
tattered, torn,broken and worn, soulless, I am left without,
we connected, we wooed, in secret, we shmoozed,
she was born, we tried, we failed, but only I am forced to lose,
this desolate place, these confusing times,
the surrender, I remember, no dots connected my lines,
my sobriety brought sanity, some vanity and pain,
no bottle to bring compassion, only cold and wet in the rain,
now I strive to forgive, not blinded, I will never forget,
you have wounded and deceived, it put me down on my knees, without regret,
but I survived, I'm alive, now awake with open eyes,
thank God he took away the only one I have despised,
see I made it, frustrated, I took your worst and created,
a new life, a new dream, new wealth as it seams,
new plans, new future, new everything, with new means,
so to whom do I thank, this lagging and dragging ball on a chain,
that had lost all their might so resorted to blame, what a shame,
no I thank me without that nothing is possible,
I am rinsed and cleansed of all responsible,
not lost anymore, day by day now in stride,
**** you, **** them, the whole lot,
Signed ............. SURVIVED.
Sep 20, 2013
Sep 20, 2013 at 6:17 PM UTC
Are your eyes still closing to watch me?
I've searched the walls, stared at reflections and studied my skin
But I cannot find your scribbled face as I used to
No longer do I watch imaginations of you moving freely around me
And I have resorted to daydreaming to feel your ghost touch.
Self controlled imaginings of you brings similar pleasures
But they scares me much more
Concentration to envision provokes fear
Worries tha your illusion is conjured against its will
And pulling you from a fantasy once deserted.
Last night after a fight to summon dreams
Satisfaction was given quick as if an inconvenience
My love, I don't want to pull anymore
The invisible rope between us is no longer used in guidance
And it is burning my eyes as I pull.
Climb the rope, strain me no more
Show me that I am a dream rather a haunting
But should this truly be a cruel tug of war
I beg you, drop the rope
Allow tears to soothe wounds to come.
Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 3:26 PM UTC
You were always told that the answers you sought were inside you... residing in your body. But you never quite knew how to get them out. You resorted to cutting yourself open, you searched the scarlet letters that poured out but none of them spelled any words. It was like you were looking at a can of alphabet soup that had spilled it's contents onto the floor. And much like that can, after you spilled your contents, you too were empty. You cleaned up the mess but the inside was hollow and you still didn't have your answers.
May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 at 3:11 AM UTC
"You've eyes that bleed violence" they tell me.
Sometimes I grip my bat so hard,
my chapped nails break into my skin.
I inhale my surroundings
and spit out the excess misery.
They glare at me
as if I were the spawn of Satan.
It would explain much if I was.
A demon..
It's fitting; they all hate me anyways.
That's fine. 'Cuz I hate them too.
Not sure why everyone gives me the cold shoulder, though.
I roam the city vandalizing everything in sight,
maybe that's why.
I've been in every street fight that's come up in the last 13 years.
I've been begged to join in gangs. I don't like those.
Been on the streets since I was 7, back then I was spit on while begging for food.
Resorted to stealing everything in sight in order to survive.
Stabbed a kid for stealing my apple, then realized I had power.
I could defend myself.
Learned to steal from other homeless thieves like me,
got beat up and failed miserably the first hundred times.
Stole a bat at the age of 14.
My weapon of choice hasn't failed me since.
I spray paint **** everywhere I go, beat the **** out of anyone in my way.
Everything I "own" is stolen.
I'm a thief. A criminal. I survive.
People know it, they can smell it, I'm sure of it.
.. Though I've been treated the same since I was a kid..
Maybe I'm a demon of sorts.
So that's my name.
My name's Demon.
Lately I've been feeling someone's presence.
Maybe I spend too much time alone.
Like hell if I care, though. I don't need company.
..
Still..it's comforting..
It's not a ghost. It's someone out there.
It's a girl. She's real.
I used to hang with some alley cat; I'd feed her.
The presence reminds me of that cat.
Maybe she wants me to feed her.
Maybe she needs protection.
Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 10:33 PM UTC