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Ah the perfect boy

Mushy and gushy, all human like, with normal human skin, and smile

Scratch that

Heavy body armor, brandishing a sword, born in the mid 15th century

Hmmm, no

Aluminim for hair, copper in his head, lack of understanding of any type of human emotions

That's not right, no

How about
Not possible
Smells fishy
A being of pure light energy?
Sigh, beyond my comprehension

I guess I'll just get
A pet rock
Im celebration of international rock day
Heidi Franke Aug 13
Head can now explode
But my hair rises black
Higher than this
Feeling inside like
I am,
         the sound could send waves
In new directions.  
Capture or let go...
They both make me feel
Unable to do anything else
The roar is paralyzing me
Get me into the black hole
I need the other side
Rage-Light, flashing
      You would be blind by now
But I see too much
       Scratching out your eyes.
Isaac Jul 23
white pages before me
pure as snow

no mark, no scratch
no story to show

page after page
waiting to be used

patient, at peace
excited, and amused

each page a day
of the future world

anticipating the time
when their purpose will unfold

who will be a part of them?
everyone but those yet to be

who will enjoy them most?
the people who now get ready
Written 1 July 2018

Start purposefully and knowingly planting seeds now.
V Exeter Jul 20
Sniff, sniff. You enter my nose.
Jack or Jill may refer to a rose, but --
Both of us represent the sapphic,
intentional bitch, with a deviant itch.
Scratch, scratch. Deliberate action.

I smell sex sweat.

Sex is wet. The wetter we get,
the better we sin.
I'm all yours for fetish, on all
fours, in position.
Sex is wet. The wetter you get,
the better my quench.

Drink drink drink til the water is done,
oasis to desert.
Drink drink drink.
Swallow, willing.
Drink, drink.

Return me,
your salty seas.
Heera 4d
To build a home from scratch is like learning alphabets for the first time in your life
Only that you aren't a toddler anymore
And you already have those newspapers, articles and sheets to be read before your boss throws you out.
You see the world pace by you, moving fast and furious towards their unending circle of duties
You pause and breath out, you realise
This time alphabets have decided to cut through your skin as you skip his first name's letter L or her whole name from it.
You don't really write them on the paper  but your heart can see them even without your fingers making their outline
And you wonder how You can unsee what you have already seen
You know you can't stop how your heart pounds on only those words, read in your mind as


Out of all those alphabets,
These were the only four letters you recognise, it seems

But you get the metallic taste of other words as well, like


The touch of tongue to your upper mandible in,


The little shock and shake from under the ground as you pronounce,


But most important of it all,


As your cheeks go up in a fake smile

Maybe the home
This time will be a little crooked
With something missing
Like Y O U
From 'I love'
But you will still have L O V E
Maybe this time, just enough for yourself.
I might edit this more.
This poem implies on how it feels  when you start afresh with hurt in your bones.

Its getting bad for me but i'm trying because here is no other way.
Um... Just read aloud the words in italics as separately as alphabets and you will understand the words beside them.
Débijonne Aug 6
Almost asleep when my phone ticked;
'A notification,' it says.
Your name was there, you liked my photo.
And my stomach drowned in butterflies--
Scratch that--moths, surely they're moths.
Stronger, buzzier, like your power
To occupy and stay in my brain
With that single heart emoji beside your name.
Thinking that the double tap
Is as if you love me just the same.
Shoutout to those whose crushes follow them on instagram. Mine doesn't. :( HAHAHA
Francie Lynch Apr 21
The Sansui turntable still works well.
Like memories, round and round,
Needling me. And the more I play them,
The more they itch.
I know the dark side of the moon,
And the way the sun shines.
The dances, whirlwind moves,
That have settled now.
Inside the sleeve are notes and our words.
I will not let the dust jackets do their job.
I set Abbey Road gently on the pad,
Place the needle softly, and hear the familiar scratch.
Standing back, like watching a parade,
I listen.
Here comes the sun on a cloudy day.
You may notice I shadowed your Events
Out of Deep Gesture to your Customed Doors
Yet, stand-out Naked, begs for my Conscience
How such Blokish Skill would be so adored
It still Stings, really, for your Sun exploit
After few of the Truest Rays give space
Though mouths copped, hymns their minted throats avoid
From submitting premature drafts at-face
It is, though constrict, the Best Pill swallowed
As every Medication would redden
But, after process, heal my Will's allowed
And free myself from this Cage submitten.
But why, though Free, these Keys in my Pocket still
Scratch my Heart-Drawn Car; Welts I duly fill.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
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