"shopaholic" poems
The whiteness of pearl
The glossiness of gold
See the richness of girl
From me walking away
Feel the warmth of her slap
Sense the sound of her thrash
See the rudeness of the girl
who is walking away
She say “I love your honesty”
I know honesty the best policy
Why is she so lunatic,
who is walking away?
She asked me for date
She was in shopaholic state
Guess the stubbornness of the lunatic
Who calls me miser again
Her gold bracelet not faked
But her sympathy is baked
It’s the attitude of the girl
That is baking that cake
Boy becoming single
Hardly changes the weeks
But the girl who left him
Tails a queue of pervert geeks
Oh come on my freakin brain
Just split out the stupid pain
See the hot figure of the new chick
Who’s walking on my way
May 5, 2013
May 5, 2013 at 10:29 PM UTC
Man,
there's a cold dark corner
in my room,
your voice calls
out when I'm curled up there
on the dank musty floor,
it speaks to me; I'm coming for you.
I hold to the
voiceful melody of your
softly
spoken sounds as you drown out
the drone of negativity
and the past men who lied
when they said
they'd always love me...
His'aholic.
As I lie on my bed
in the fetal position,
eyes closed
hoping
you'll walk in, lift me onto your lap
cradled me in that protective way
only you're able to give me,
feel your fingers caress me.
Too many times I find
I walk in a stupor from the loving you gave.
Gosh it feels so long ago
and my needs wrecking my senses
once more can you do to me what you did last time,
just once more & I'll let it be.
I'm feigning...
My dystonia
is you- every time you come around
I get what I'll call
His'aholic,
uncontainable, uncontrollable
movements and twitches
twerking if need be, just to get
intoxicated one more time of off
you,
like the excitement a kleptomaniac gets
or the levels of high a shopaholic feels
my dopamine fired up every time
you do what you do to me
Him'aholic, His'aholic,
Your'aholic
my
infectiousness habits,
sweats & hot flashes-
Man
because of what you do,
mentally I'm gone,
once you take root in my veins,
in my lungs,
I forget all that's wrong with the world,
all those problems from my past
I no longer see any of those things.
It's a made up word,
less you count when
Kelly Price
used
Him'aholic for her album title.
Different meaning in
His'aholic, different in Your'aholic too,
but
that's a bit more personal and much more deep,
it a thing where
well forget I said anything
hehehe.
I make up my own words in referencing to anything about you.
Man,
I'm jonesing, longing and yearning
oh please oh please
note
the
oh please-
I'm begging you!
Your the unusual
"drug" addiction
I need to feed on,
You got me
craving, shamefully
shaking with it,
longing and in a dazed- hazy blur.
Because of you I'm a
mindless puppet, my strings
once connected to you
are torn.
The music doesn't sound right,
the dance ain't got he same
rhythm,
I feel sick when I can't have you
feel upside down,
when I ain't got my fix.
I got it bad & all I want is you
say what you want but just know
I got a illness
there's only one cure for
His'aholic
&
it's
you!
Always Me Ayeshah ®
Copyright 1977 - Present ©
K.A.C.L.N ©
All right reserved ®
Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 4:44 AM UTC
The clock was bound to strike midnight
This I already knew.
But I lost track of time,
And I stayed searching for my shoe.
It's like I was playing tug of war with a cowboy
I just really didn't have a chance.
I might as well have been doing the tango,
During a western square dance.
As soon as I tried to walk away,
The cowboy was up in arms.
He lassoed the rope around my waist,
And I heard the shrill of alarms.
Yet I still let him reel me in,
Like a fish caught in a net
I laid all my chips down and out,
Knowing I was loosing the bet.
I joined his game freely,
With my whole army down.
I had no back up at all.
A shopaholic out on the town.
And now I'm all torn up
Cause he's done and had his way.
And with a tip of his hat,
This cowboy's said good day.
He's ridden off into the sunset
And I've watched him disappear.
And I'm the cut up fragments of an unwanted ****
That the gardener tore up with his sheers.
Oct 10, 2012
Oct 10, 2012 at 5:14 PM UTC
i like to buy things
because then they are mine
always
can i buy you?
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 11:47 PM UTC
Do you look around and
pick an attractive stranger and ask
would this individual
make a good spouse?
Are they someone I can depend
on when the going get's tough,
when the world starts
to tilt on it's axis; when
things fall apart,
and everything
I ever owned
is shattered
in tiny
unrecognizable
pieces?
What about the ***
Can this person
keep up with
my desires, or
will the judge me
by my
turn ons?
Do you take a survey
that outlines this perfect
lover; and do their
beliefs and ideas
align with yours?
Such a beautiful
and tidy future
so easily predicted.
When you're young
it's easy to make a few
mistakes here and there;
it's only when you get older
that you start to
cherry pick.
Don't want to waste anymore time;
Don't want to feel like such
a fool.
No one taught you to
believe in forever, but
somehow that idea
burrowed it's way
into your heart
and set the whole thing ablaze;
Now it's a cinder
of what it used to be
when you were a child.
Twenty or so tabs
of online dating websites
and surveys are open;
Potential partners
profiles preferred;
and plan B's
starred and bookmarked,
cause you never know.
That special someone
is out there.
It's attempt,
after attempt,
until you get it right.
May 10, 2016
May 10, 2016 at 12:15 AM UTC
"Do you believe in love?"
she shook her head.
"Well, you know what love does to people—destruction," she whispered quietly.
his astonished eyes stared at her with wonder and confusion.
"Being in love means you'd be willing to sacrifice and risk everything for it; or even worse, fight against anything that against it. All my life, I only witnessed the kind of love that ruin one another."
"Look at Bonnie and Clyde. Look at Hitler's love for his Arya race. Look at Confessions of a Shopaholic. Look at Gollum. There's a thin line between obsession and love, and sometimes you can't tell which one is which."
her eyes looked far across the city; as if she was longing for something.
perhaps, he thought, it's true that woman is an open book, it's just most men don't read and it's written in ancient Greek.
"But how about your Mom? How about the owner of animal shelter? How about the Environmentalist? How about the firefighters and crisis call center officers?" he responded.
and in that very moment, she knew she was in safe hands.
Feb 1, 2020
Feb 1, 2020 at 8:23 AM UTC
I'm angry because my wife turned out to be a shopaholic ****
She thinks she owns me just because her name is tattooed on my ****
Even though I'm a poor man, my wife believes in living large.
My credit cards are maxed out because of what she's charged.
I go hungry while she and her lovers go to five star restaurants and order caviar.
I got my *** kicked when I tried to stop two large men from repossessing my car.
She brings her lovers to my house, the ***** doesn't even try to be discreet.
I'm about to pass out because for the last four days, I've had nothing to eat.
I just knocked her out, put her in a crate and mailed her to Japan.
I'm doing a terrible thing to the Japanese but at least I'm a free man.
I don't have to worry about her returning and going berserk.
She'll be stuck in Japan because she's too **** lazy to work.
My hair has turned solid gray because of what she did to me.
I may look like an eighty year old but I'm so happy to be free.
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 8:07 PM UTC