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"shreds" poems
He made sure I knew just how lucky I was to have him But he never hit me He played games with my emotions repeatedly But he never hit me He made sure I didn’t leave the house in a skirt above the knees But he never hit me He knew the words to say to make me feel so small that I could not breathe But he never hit me He tossed me in and out, in and out, until my mind was in an out of control tizzy But he never hit me He messed around on the side late at night while I rested in our bed But he never hit me He made it clear that I wasn’t to go out at night with the girls But he never hit me He told me over and over again just how hard it would be to find anyone else to deal with me But he never hit me He fell asleep safe and sound as I laid in bed trying to catch my breath through tears But he never hit me He needed to have the password to every device, app and account But he never hit me He knew the power he held and used it over my head to weaken me But he never hit me He made jokes at my expense in front of friends and family and we all giggled together instead of cringed But he never hit me He assured me the women he texted were coworkers or colleagues but I could never know what they spoke of But he never hit me He made it clear that my interests and goals were not of pertinence But he never hit me He knew the exact words to say to take my entire day downhill But he never hit me He broke my heart over and over and over again until it was minuscule shreds But he never hit me
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Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 8:06 PM UTC
But He Never Hit Me
He made sure I knew just how lucky I was to have him But he never hit me He played games with my emotions repeatedly But he never hit me He made sure I didn’t leave the house in a skirt above the knees But he never hit me He knew the words to say to make me feel so small that I could not breathe But he never hit me He tossed me in and out, in and out, until my mind was in an out of control tizzy But he never hit me He messed around on the side late at night while I rested in our bed But he never hit me He made it clear that I wasn’t to go out at night with the girls But he never hit me He told me over and over again just how hard it would be to find anyone else to deal with me But he never hit me He fell asleep safe and sound as I laid in bed trying to catch my breath through tears But he never hit me He needed to have the password to every device, app and account But he never hit me He knew the power he held and used it over my head to weaken me But he never hit me He made jokes at my expense in front of friends and family and we all giggled together instead of cringed But he never hit me He assured me the women he texted were coworkers or colleagues but I could never know what they spoke of But he never hit me He made it clear that my interests and goals were not of pertinence But he never hit me He knew the exact words to say to take my entire day downhill But he never hit me He broke my heart over and over and over again until it was minuscule shreds But he never hit me
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32
We used to swing under the big willow tree We lived 3 doors down from each other We were princesses who fought dragons We could save the kingdom and find our prince by lunch time Our moms laughed and talked about how cute we were Four years old was a cute age Fast forward a bit We went into elementary school innocent and young Boys had cooties Girls had cooties Kickball always ended with someone getting hit in the face We would always sit out field and pick grass and shape it into a little birds nest Life was good Until your parents started fighting and I mean really fighting. It scared me and I would have to go home I would make you come with me three doors down Our moms didn’t laugh anymore By Christmas break your parents were broken up and divorced Eight years old was a confusing age Junior high was mean. Girls would rip you to shreds and then hang pieces of you on everyone’s lockers Boys just wanted to make out A whirlwind of uncontrolled hormones We were the quiet ones Always flew under the radar Just trying to make it out alive We found a little spot to eat lunch under the stairs where no one would go We giggled and talked about boys who didn’t even know that we existed I remember crying in the bathroom with you because people were brutal and we weren’t good enough Our moms worried about us and how distant we were becoming Thirteen years old was a sad age Highschool is another story You were put in the hospital for a month I was left at school alone I had to find more friends I found most of them were fake So I ate my lunch in a bathroom stall Reading all the swear words that were carved in the wall You were really sick and we grew apart We were always close We will always love each other You tried to save me from myself But I didn’t let you Seventeen was an important age Now we are at different colleges I tried to **** myself while you were getting an A on your anatomy test It’s sad We don’t swing under the big willow tree or fight dragons anymore Our moms hardly talk You are a success and I am a failure We don’t really mesh I miss you every day I’m sorry I can’t be good enough for you We were princesses who lived three doors down, we saved the kingdom. I love you I’m sorry this has faded Just like everything else Nineteen years old is a dying age.
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Oct 12, 2016
Oct 12, 2016 at 4:23 AM UTC
willow tree
We used to swing under the big willow tree We lived 3 doors down from each other We were princesses who fought dragons We could save the kingdom and find our prince by lunch time Our moms laughed and talked about how cute we were Four years old was a cute age Fast forward a bit We went into elementary school innocent and young Boys had cooties Girls had cooties Kickball always ended with someone getting hit in the face We would always sit out field and pick grass and shape it into a little birds nest Life was good Until your parents started fighting and I mean really fighting. It scared me and I would have to go home I would make you come with me three doors down Our moms didn’t laugh anymore By Christmas break your parents were broken up and divorced Eight years old was a confusing age Junior high was mean. Girls would rip you to shreds and then hang pieces of you on everyone’s lockers Boys just wanted to make out A whirlwind of uncontrolled hormones We were the quiet ones Always flew under the radar Just trying to make it out alive We found a little spot to eat lunch under the stairs where no one would go We giggled and talked about boys who didn’t even know that we existed I remember crying in the bathroom with you because people were brutal and we weren’t good enough Our moms worried about us and how distant we were becoming Thirteen years old was a sad age Highschool is another story You were put in the hospital for a month I was left at school alone I had to find more friends I found most of them were fake So I ate my lunch in a bathroom stall Reading all the swear words that were carved in the wall You were really sick and we grew apart We were always close We will always love each other You tried to save me from myself But I didn’t let you Seventeen was an important age Now we are at different colleges I tried to **** myself while you were getting an A on your anatomy test It’s sad We don’t swing under the big willow tree or fight dragons anymore Our moms hardly talk You are a success and I am a failure We don’t really mesh I miss you every day I’m sorry I can’t be good enough for you We were princesses who lived three doors down, we saved the kingdom. I love you I’m sorry this has faded Just like everything else Nineteen years old is a dying age.
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60
I am a ragdoll cat. Docile and placid, I bend to your touch, my silky fur invites your inquisitive fingers. Easy come, easy go. My claws are only for show. Bred for affection, I'm the perfect pet. I'll follow you wherever you go. But the thing about ragdoll cats is when danger is near, we do not know. We see predators the same as friends because it's in our nature to go with the flow. Too many times, I've been ripped to shreds, been tossed around and thrown to the wolves. When I land on my feet and lick my wounds, I go right back to being a ragdoll.
0
Apr 25, 2016
Apr 25, 2016 at 7:23 PM UTC
Ragdoll Cat
Behind your eyes I see lions And you know them well And you fear Roars resonate in your tortured mind And you regret being bizarre You want to stay in line But the bustle in the crowds won't accept your direction You're an infection - peculiar in a derogatory sense. The howls from the people let you discover That this place is for hyenas You cower Lest you be ripped to shreds And on your panicked escape You leave a lioness behind The one you had named Unique and her cries are of a dreadful kind Claws feast into your weary soul They are your own As you keep under prison guard The character given by God Desperately you cling onto branches Not sturdy enough to hold you forever but you'd do anything to avoid being trampled By the hooves of the many When you have but a few lions left The rest were dropped as uncertainty clouded your vision Until your cat eyes Did not even benefit in the night But you are forgetting Should you choose a weak road At least chase the antelope Heaven knows You were meant to run wild Not Climb But when you become stronger as lions always do You will run before the hoof beats Because you are extraordinary And when you realize They will have no choice but to And the mass will part The moment you roar And when the herd is separated Blind or awake You shall find your lioness As she is running home Let her meld within your heart Let her be part of your masterpiece Until you recognize the majesty of your lions And without fear When you love yourself You will see the beast in mine eyes as well
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Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 10:34 PM UTC
Lion Eyes
Behind your eyes I see lions And you know them well And you fear Roars resonate in your tortured mind And you regret being bizarre You want to stay in line But the bustle in the crowds won't accept your direction You're an infection - peculiar in a derogatory sense. The howls from the people let you discover That this place is for hyenas You cower Lest you be ripped to shreds And on your panicked escape You leave a lioness behind The one you had named Unique and her cries are of a dreadful kind Claws feast into your weary soul They are your own As you keep under prison guard The character given by God Desperately you cling onto branches Not sturdy enough to hold you forever but you'd do anything to avoid being trampled By the hooves of the many When you have but a few lions left The rest were dropped as uncertainty clouded your vision Until your cat eyes Did not even benefit in the night But you are forgetting Should you choose a weak road At least chase the antelope Heaven knows You were meant to run wild Not Climb But when you become stronger as lions always do You will run before the hoof beats Because you are extraordinary And when you realize They will have no choice but to And the mass will part The moment you roar And when the herd is separated Blind or awake You shall find your lioness As she is running home Let her meld within your heart Let her be part of your masterpiece Until you recognize the majesty of your lions And without fear When you love yourself You will see the beast in mine eyes as well
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i thought it’d be poetic to leave you the same way i found you, with a contentless text— a simple entered space (i knew you wouldn’t catch it) although you seem to be someone who thinks very deeply about all someones, your thoughts about me are puddles disguised as over-complimenting oceans and i really do not know what i am or what i’ve been to you, or if i’ll be able to keep myself away from you, or why you’d drive hours to see me in the middle of the night when you “plan on kissing at least one girl in the next three months,” (could care less if it’s me) "what would i be waiting for," you asked. i’m barefoot, chasing a train i know is on tracks that lead away from where i want and need to be (but i liked the way it felt when your hand touched mine) glad i never gave you any piece of my heart, because you’re the type of boy who’d rip it to shreds, hide your claws behind your back, and tell me that i should’ve seen it coming (though you would’ve been right) maybe you’re just bored, and that’s why you decorate your skin with ink and don’t care about whose lips you’ve touched, and i wish i could figure you out, wish i could draw a perfect portrait with my words (or even just my thoughts) of who you are, but i won’t pretend i know you i hate you and your ***** tattoo (but i don’t really hate you, i hate the way i let you make me feel.)
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Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 1:38 AM UTC
sorry we never played putt-putt, have fun kissing other girls
*our hands are like flowers eaten by a fox we cut off our clothes to make room for these words and disguised our souls in nothing feelings suspended we rear-ended the world stood upon bridges waving at girls shreds of starlight reflect the falling carriages sadness and birth are beyond your marriages same story told throughout the eons our personal feelings are diluted in the sea just as we could no longer hold on our shadows found the ground and we floated down to safety*
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Mar 26, 2017
Mar 26, 2017 at 12:00 PM UTC
fox medicine
The she-devil that rides my soul Her putrid breath stinging my nostrils Her decaying teeth gnawing my flesh Her ragged nails clawing at my heart ripping my life to shreds. Written by Keith Edward Baucum
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Nov 27, 2015
Nov 27, 2015 at 6:59 AM UTC
***********
december 2011: soulmates? something out of a fairytale! handsome Prince Charming and the sweet Princess are unlikely childhood sweethearts their scripted fate tucked away under my bed. april 2012: soulmates? it’s just like in the fairytales. we flirted with chance but knelt on destiny my eyes were bright and wide as true love’s first kiss hangs promised in the air. april 2013: soulmates? the fairytale wasn’t mine. I tried to fill in the gaps with ice cream and picnics but we were a jigsaw puzzle missing half its pieces. don’t worry, I thought, I am still so very young. july 2013: soulmates? the fairytale forgotten I threw myself at people hardly worth the toss mistakenly discarding pieces of myself I didn’t expect to need later november 2013: soulmates? a fairytale of treachery. you sleeping beauty, wide awake I tore myself to shreds on your wall of thorns tread carefully, for fate is a dangerous game. january 2014: soulmates? a fairytale, for now I cast that suffocating doctrine out of my mind frozen in time, I decided now was what mattered a love like one I’d never felt before beckoned may 2014: soulmates? a fairytale assured I don’t know what the future holds, or how my story will unfold. happiness is everything and care is not for this world. love is abounding and soulmates can wait. october 2014: soulmates? they belong in fairytales. chipped and damaged hearts don’t become more whole just by finding comfort in another broken soul. all the world’s a playground these grown-up children just playing pretend because nothing’s really meant to be after all.
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Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 8:48 PM UTC
soulmates?
december 2011: soulmates? something out of a fairytale! handsome Prince Charming and the sweet Princess are unlikely childhood sweethearts their scripted fate tucked away under my bed. april 2012: soulmates? it’s just like in the fairytales. we flirted with chance but knelt on destiny my eyes were bright and wide as true love’s first kiss hangs promised in the air. april 2013: soulmates? the fairytale wasn’t mine. I tried to fill in the gaps with ice cream and picnics but we were a jigsaw puzzle missing half its pieces. don’t worry, I thought, I am still so very young. july 2013: soulmates? the fairytale forgotten I threw myself at people hardly worth the toss mistakenly discarding pieces of myself I didn’t expect to need later november 2013: soulmates? a fairytale of treachery. you sleeping beauty, wide awake I tore myself to shreds on your wall of thorns tread carefully, for fate is a dangerous game. january 2014: soulmates? a fairytale, for now I cast that suffocating doctrine out of my mind frozen in time, I decided now was what mattered a love like one I’d never felt before beckoned may 2014: soulmates? a fairytale assured I don’t know what the future holds, or how my story will unfold. happiness is everything and care is not for this world. love is abounding and soulmates can wait. october 2014: soulmates? they belong in fairytales. chipped and damaged hearts don’t become more whole just by finding comfort in another broken soul. all the world’s a playground these grown-up children just playing pretend because nothing’s really meant to be after all.
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Your head feels foggy you sense yourself unwind, It’s the same dreadful demons toying with your mind. They wait till it’s dark or the lights are down low, unnerving sickly attacks through your blood and bones. You can’t hide your black heart the demons can see, they don’t allow any space in your head to breathe.   They tear your reason to shreds you need fixing. A worn stone sinking in an ocean that’s rotting, you decay miserably since you're forced to bend the knee. How much more agony can the universe bring. Not even your screams can get you out of the cold, and you’d rather give up and drown, than go it alone.
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Sep 14, 2017
Sep 14, 2017 at 11:34 PM UTC
Demons
Poverty Holding on to me Dragging me down Down D O W N There is no revival There is no survival No way to reclaim The life that was mine Trickling away Nickel and dime I can't support my family-- I can't even support myself Can't let my children know This lack of things to provide Even though I want to; When wants and needs collide. I can't explain it to you You wouldn't understand This suffering I see Sometimes I think it only happens Just to me I have so much hope for my children They have to go further Make more Do more Be more More than I was More than I am I will never be what I want This world, so costly I can't help it- but mostly It's the people in my life, The ones I hold at night, The people who keep me going Poverty Dragging me down But I will not give up I can't release hope For my children and their children- Break this cyclical way of living; Break the death and deceiving I am stuck, but I have hope I have love and I can cope But I can't hold on much longer Ripped to shreds by the economy I loved you, my daughter Be more
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Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 10:12 AM UTC
Poverty
One thread came loose with alcoholism at a very young age. She recovered. She forgot and proceeded. One thread was yanked loose by a growing tendency to self sabotage. She clawed her way out of the spiral. One thread pulled at others when she learnt she didn’t need alcohol to have a good time. She felt deprived by self-restraint. So she slightly caved. One thread burned along with her personality when she became a stoner again. She was suffocated yet high. One thread was singed by **** She fell back into her ***** habits. She found herself here, but not quite present. She became dependant. As she flooded her body parts with superficial happiness, just a quick release, her mouth grew dry. Then the peeling skin on her stained lips began to stick together and she regressed into a still and faded silence. In the end, she was in shreds and blissfully unaware, alone with nothing but one solitary thread left to grasp at.
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Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 7:30 PM UTC
Shreds of She
covered by thorns and hidden by vines but you’re still attracted to the light that reflects from my broken sides you want to swim alone tonight but I know you’d let me hold you down Velvet rose petals and shattered glass don't mix but still you’ll love me anyway despite the scars I've left on you you’d lay with me on dead grass and let me point out your fading colors you’ll excuse my relentless attempts to bury you under ground. “you're destructive and reflective, I see myself in you” As my ridges rip you to shreds you stay with me, a ****** mess and a lonely swimmer, another garden destroyed with wasted raindrop tears
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Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 1:18 PM UTC
raindrop cottages
We dance in the ashes like Literary scavengers. In the ruins and after rages We draw the shreds of words and pages Around our naked bodies like Blankets, A quilt of the quintessential struggle Which all people suffer
0
Apr 10, 2018
Apr 10, 2018 at 3:25 AM UTC
After they burn the books
my life has been ripped to shreds my heart has been ripped apart instead of living I want to be dead I want to be rid of all this guilt you don't understand how I feel this way it's comprised and you're the delay I've been broken and beaten to the core its been years since I kicked you out the door yet you're still here haunting me I can't find a way to breathe can you believe all of the damage you've caused me in this lifetime must be a record when I put it together if it's not me it's her I've been hurting too long been put in the wrong and it's just too much can't believe you ripped me to shreds into tiny pieces I let you lead me on all along so my mistake wouldn't have it any other way I'm already gone shreds ripped into pieces none of me is decent that's left shreds
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Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 1:31 AM UTC
shreds
Do you see these nails that are bitten and torn to shreds. Do you see my hair that is mangled and tangled, it hasn't been washed in days. Do you see this acne on my face, I pick at it till it leaves scars. Do you see the clothes I'm wearing, I bet I haven't changed them in weeks. Do you see this room, I haven't cleaned it in months Do you see my teeth, they bleed because I haven't brushed them in awhile. Do you see I go on binges of eating or not eating, cause I feel guilty. Do you see I go on benders if drinking or smoking. Do you see my eyes and face are red from crying recently. Do you see my texts I never send cause you wouldn't care. Do you see when I say "I'm ok", "I'm fine" that those are just lies. Do you see my smile and laugh, it's mostly fake.   Do you see how I sleep all day and wake up and go right back to bed. You don't see but you should. This list could go on for infinitely. It's signs like this that should be noticed. Depression, anxiety or any mental illness is important for learning the signs. Your story matters just as well as your voice.
0
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 5:24 PM UTC
Notice anything
Poet, be not afraid. There are far worse things than Bad poetry. Keep writing; like a child keeps Drawing with the purest of Disregards to likeness. The more stones you turn, the more Gems you produce. The more ink you rain, The more gracious your written Children grow. All flexing builds muscle. Rough bricks form castles. Even Dalì carved canvases to shreds And started anew Not caring too much. Not caring Too much To keep painting.
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Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 4:20 AM UTC
Worse Things Than Bad Poetry
the smell of happiness it is no more the stench of worry lingers the air a wall of thorns covered with ugliness holds a rose that use to be pure and white but now is stained black with pain plucked from it's tree is a black rose withering slowly with a fading perfume of true sadness crying with its petals closed eyes filled with hesitation so soft to the touch yet so dry like a sandy desert island a soul that dreams just too much pokking through the mind's crevices covered in rust completely deep within is a growing disease of emotions with a heart that ticks but too full to beat yet pumpimg slow is cold yet thin blood this face is a fountain spraying out dust a wall of distrust holds bricks burning just like a fire thats has lost control a stomp of hatred has just taken over every part of this heart once filled of love with no time to enhale it all in a soft and warm yet crying soul is dripping wet with darkend fear strangled by the tightened barbwire cutting through each and every petal leaving behind scars with shreds of pain covering every inch of this garden of hell
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Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 6:03 PM UTC
Black Pain
Howl at the moon, lone wolf. For your anger fuels your cry. Left to roam, but without a home. Your voice echoes to the sky. Howl at the moon, lone wolf. For you have left the pack. Prideful and strong, you refuse to follow. And for you there's no turning back. Howl at the moon, lone wolf. For the forest will spread fear. Late at night, with no hope in sight. Your call will catch their ear. Howl at the moon, lone wolf. The blood flows through your core. The flesh of your enemy torn to shreds, Leaves you only wanting more. So howl at the moon, my dear lone wolf. For it's they only way you know. You'll cry to the unforgiving sky. And never find where to go.
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Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 3:35 PM UTC
Lone Wolf
there are bones between my teeth moonlight glimmering in my eyes dried blood in my nails, in my hair my head pounding (thump. thump. thump.) you know they say blood is thicker than water but that just means blood is more likely to stick in my throat coughing up family ties one by one glistening red memories, leaving only a metallic aftertaste sick nightmare fantasy of ripping open bodies im the monster in your fairytale stories lets do a bit of editing, perhaps? lets shred the whole **** book, perhaps? lets set fire to the town, perhaps? im tired of pretending to be your precious child, perfect student, "the innocent one" i want to paint obscene material in your blood (in the name of art, of course) @god do you ever feel unreal? are you even real? am i? no i have to be real, I can feel the blood dripping down my arm, the bones cracking in my spine im real. im real. im real. everything hurts!!!!! fuCK i cant wait to rip you all to shreds !!!!!! T H I S I S N O T A D R E A M walking on eggshells is far more difficult with digitigrade legs, im not gonna try to be nice anymore i dont need to be nice anymore why be nice when you can **** why just **** when you can slaughter? nobody can stop me from lighting up the post office, nobody can stop me from gouging out your eyes im no god but im closer than you im no angel but you might be soon close your blinds, lock your doors big bad wolf is back again bigger, badder, better wolf greater, darker, madder wolf teeth like knives and claws like daggers six golden eyes staring into your soul oh right, thats me! i m i n y o u r h o m e
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Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 12:10 AM UTC
werewolf thoughts at midnight
there are bones between my teeth moonlight glimmering in my eyes dried blood in my nails, in my hair my head pounding (thump. thump. thump.) you know they say blood is thicker than water but that just means blood is more likely to stick in my throat coughing up family ties one by one glistening red memories, leaving only a metallic aftertaste sick nightmare fantasy of ripping open bodies im the monster in your fairytale stories lets do a bit of editing, perhaps? lets shred the whole **** book, perhaps? lets set fire to the town, perhaps? im tired of pretending to be your precious child, perfect student, "the innocent one" i want to paint obscene material in your blood (in the name of art, of course) @god do you ever feel unreal? are you even real? am i? no i have to be real, I can feel the blood dripping down my arm, the bones cracking in my spine im real. im real. im real. everything hurts!!!!! fuCK i cant wait to rip you all to shreds !!!!!! T H I S I S N O T A D R E A M walking on eggshells is far more difficult with digitigrade legs, im not gonna try to be nice anymore i dont need to be nice anymore why be nice when you can **** why just **** when you can slaughter? nobody can stop me from lighting up the post office, nobody can stop me from gouging out your eyes im no god but im closer than you im no angel but you might be soon close your blinds, lock your doors big bad wolf is back again bigger, badder, better wolf greater, darker, madder wolf teeth like knives and claws like daggers six golden eyes staring into your soul oh right, thats me! i m i n y o u r h o m e
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34
Just because I’m vulnerable doesn’t mean I’m weak. Just because I don’t cry in front of you doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings. Just because I don’t speak up doesn’t mean I don’t have anything to say. Just because I don’t react doesn’t mean I don’t know how to tear you apart. Just because I smile doesn’t mean you can walk on me. Just because I don’t hurt you back doesn’t mean I lack masculinity. Just because you say I am fat doesn’t make me ugly. Not uglier than your soul. Just because you say I’m feminine doesn’t make my gender redundant. I’m more a man than you’ll ever be, choking on your insecurities. Getting kicks out of putting other people down, everytime you feel threatened by the vastness of the world. Just because I don’t stop you doesn’t mean you can go back to doing what you did. Just because I am me. And not the version of me, You want me to be. Just because I am me. And just because I don’t roar doesn’t mean I’m not strong. I’m more than capable of ripping you to shreds, with my weaponry of words. Just because.
0
May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 1:43 AM UTC
Gender Roles.
I beg inside my soul to have you. I don't love you. I want to feel passion, desire, and the warmth of another body pressing against me I could grab any man I wanted, but I want you. I see your brown hair let me run my fingers through, just once Your eyes soft earth Your lips pink lilacs And all I want is your body Which is very saddening. To only want to use someone, then toss them aside like trash How can you? And still fall asleep at night without thinking about a face wet with tears your fault I simply want to do to you What you have done To All the women before me, The same song as a trickery I want you to fall in love with me an instrument meets the music I want you to hold me close and kiss me, as you share your fears and truths. a melody plays softly I want you to believe in love because of me Think of me, breathe me, and miss me when we are not together accelerato tempo Until one day you meet me in a corner booth at our favorite restaurant, and I rip your heart to shreds *Look, I never loved you. I lied. I used you to get what I want. You are a pathetic, self-serving dung heap that only thinks about himself. You wooed me, I pretended to like you, so I could dig under your thick facade of masculinity, and discover your sensitive side. I know what you are--man whore--and I enjoyed using you. You can lie to everyone, every woman from this point on, but ten years from now, when you are married to wife number four and you are waiting for her to come home and she never does, I want you to crawl into the bed you made and bawl like the whining, sniveling baby you truly become at night when no one else is around you. I hope 'lonely' presses you down so hard it hurts to breathe. And maybe then you might turn into a different man or at least your miniscule brain will have an inkling of true heartbreak. Doubtful though--I win. You lose* Then I get up and walk away from you, ignoring any pleas and ****** slurs. Caesura
0
Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 12:39 AM UTC
Revenge Symphony (Payback Heartbreak)
I beg inside my soul to have you. I don't love you. I want to feel passion, desire, and the warmth of another body pressing against me I could grab any man I wanted, but I want you. I see your brown hair let me run my fingers through, just once Your eyes soft earth Your lips pink lilacs And all I want is your body Which is very saddening. To only want to use someone, then toss them aside like trash How can you? And still fall asleep at night without thinking about a face wet with tears your fault I simply want to do to you What you have done To All the women before me, The same song as a trickery I want you to fall in love with me an instrument meets the music I want you to hold me close and kiss me, as you share your fears and truths. a melody plays softly I want you to believe in love because of me Think of me, breathe me, and miss me when we are not together accelerato tempo Until one day you meet me in a corner booth at our favorite restaurant, and I rip your heart to shreds *Look, I never loved you. I lied. I used you to get what I want. You are a pathetic, self-serving dung heap that only thinks about himself. You wooed me, I pretended to like you, so I could dig under your thick facade of masculinity, and discover your sensitive side. I know what you are--man whore--and I enjoyed using you. You can lie to everyone, every woman from this point on, but ten years from now, when you are married to wife number four and you are waiting for her to come home and she never does, I want you to crawl into the bed you made and bawl like the whining, sniveling baby you truly become at night when no one else is around you. I hope 'lonely' presses you down so hard it hurts to breathe. And maybe then you might turn into a different man or at least your miniscule brain will have an inkling of true heartbreak. Doubtful though--I win. You lose* Then I get up and walk away from you, ignoring any pleas and ****** slurs. Caesura
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She's taken your body wash, and used it without permission. She's used it twice before and presumed it would be fine to take it again. You never gave consent. You even said No. She's used it twice before so what's a third time, or a fourth or even a fifth, she's just hoping you won't snitch and tell someone she stole something from you... Your confidence or your peach shampoo? She lied about the temperature of the bath water, you were supposed to drown before you felt the heat, but you didn't and now you're tearing your skin to shreds, Self-destruction on the first date, how sweet. She wants you to wash your mouth out, you said something you shouldn't and now she's mad, feeling sorry for you is in the past, the new thing is drowning you in the bath. Your heads now under water, feet kicking the floor. She's doused you with her perfume, just to see you choke against the wooden frame of the door.
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Nov 25, 2017
Nov 25, 2017 at 7:15 PM UTC
One bathroom, to three girls.
You woke me in the thin dawn. Like a riot of rain in a bleached dry summer. small green shreds of shrub sprang from my heart as tumbling birdsong might litter the long pale sky. your voice came drifting through the shallow line And I let the sound seep like a soft assault on my senses. I hear the words and picture your lips Folding around the consonants like a dance. I hear your breath carry the words and taste the phrases That linger on your tongue as if to speak them in a kiss These words that spin this cloth of gold in whispered utterings This silken tease with a wild sprinkle of kisses and anatomy. And would my words soften your eye and entice your body With fevered adventures seeking to be sated with a touch? Could you taste the blessings erupting from my tongue? Would you ache inside far beneath the longings of the flesh? It seems that every cell is sighing a simpering listless want to be captured by the haunting breath of a lover’s call.
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Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 5:34 AM UTC
Phone Call
Semester Exam Fluorescents flicker and fall upon bowed heads And printed letter-paper, organized By title, paragraph, number, and line, Interrogations set in Bookman Old Style And then words fall, flung bravely to each sheet As desperate, inky thoughts flailing for breath While to battered be by split infinitives Demanding an A, praying for a prom date. The paper's a mess, one’s mind is in shreds Fluorescents flicker and fall upon bowed heads
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Jan 13, 2017
Jan 13, 2017 at 1:55 PM UTC
Semester Exam