"sleaze" poems - Hello Poetry

It's burning my insides. Turning around my life. I'm crying now every night. Denying that we're right. Please tell me you need me tonight. This ****** isn't leaving me anytime.

0

Apr 26, 2015

Apr 26, 2015 at 8:04 PM UTC

Jellyfish

Regret

It's burning my insides. Turning around my life. I'm crying now every night. Denying that we're right. Please tell me you need me tonight. This ****** isn't leaving me anytime.

6

Touches Soft and feathery The dreamy intimacy of Some lovely golden haired angel Touches Soft and feathery Begin to burn and Sting like some twofaced ****** Touches Soft and feathery Sear my very skin Till I’m melted like earwax Touches Soft and feathery Lie

0

Jun 20, 2011

Jun 20, 2011 at 5:50 PM UTC

molly-pendleton

Touches

Touches Soft and feathery The dreamy intimacy of Some lovely golden haired angel Touches Soft and feathery Begin to burn and Sting like some twofaced ****** Touches Soft and feathery Sear my very skin Till I’m melted like earwax Touches Soft and feathery Lie

15

poisoned well of the antichrist littered with ground cover picking out ****** flecks of gravel blacktop kneeskin patience pieces of scattered space time to go back to the future of continuity lack of genius ingenuity and the suckling of the pig entourage riding in a flat top hatchback cadillac of the daily grind upperclassman japan onii-chan brother in arms from anotha motha hug from afar colliding with crackpot theory terrible fantasia cooling bricks in soggy sun swallowed his pride with a glass of self-worth and these ***** don't cook like they used to I don't look like I used to warped veil of camouflage chameleon leather with a ****** level of automobile salesman tried to get closer to god ground him up, picked out the stems twisted him into thin paper touched flame to his finger tip and a son of Adam was born gum shoe gaze or the emptiness felt at the end of reasonable doubt correctional text messaging system sent from hoarse corpses tenderly poignant in their ****** coffins will think for food cries from an outdated MENSA over ***** and under-appreciated siting on hunched shoulders to get a better look to be a martian in a plain port wharf warehouse whaling boat red tide in a Shanghai ********** floodgates made of bitter premise that last bit of purple yam **** Okonkwo Things Fall Apart fell apart due to faded highschool ambitions and bloodshot eyes cruel like the shade of off-cerulean champagne fizz tickles at the soft meat of his tarnished throat and silver tongue as the matchstick framework so fragile in comparison fizzles out on drenched sidewalk while cigarette ash floats by like gray gnats

0

May 30, 2013

May 30, 2013 at 4:03 PM UTC

jacob-sykes

The Glass Breakfast

poisoned well of the antichrist littered with ground cover picking out ****** flecks of gravel blacktop kneeskin patience pieces of scattered space time to go back to the future of continuity lack of genius ingenuity and the suckling of the pig entourage riding in a flat top hatchback cadillac of the daily grind upperclassman japan onii-chan brother in arms from anotha motha hug from afar colliding with crackpot theory terrible fantasia cooling bricks in soggy sun swallowed his pride with a glass of self-worth and these ***** don't cook like they used to I don't look like I used to warped veil of camouflage chameleon leather with a ****** level of automobile salesman tried to get closer to god ground him up, picked out the stems twisted him into thin paper touched flame to his finger tip and a son of Adam was born gum shoe gaze or the emptiness felt at the end of reasonable doubt correctional text messaging system sent from hoarse corpses tenderly poignant in their ****** coffins will think for food cries from an outdated MENSA over ***** and under-appreciated siting on hunched shoulders to get a better look to be a martian in a plain port wharf warehouse whaling boat red tide in a Shanghai ********** floodgates made of bitter premise that last bit of purple yam **** Okonkwo Things Fall Apart fell apart due to faded highschool ambitions and bloodshot eyes cruel like the shade of off-cerulean champagne fizz tickles at the soft meat of his tarnished throat and silver tongue as the matchstick framework so fragile in comparison fizzles out on drenched sidewalk while cigarette ash floats by like gray gnats

46

Cold and lonely sights like these Scare and push me toward the ****** Of nights I knew so well when I was young Of closing bars and empty lots Nightly walks and ***** thoughts Things I'd thought my frozen hands had wrung But now they're back and tempting me In silent forms that I can't flee Like an image some old musician once had sung

0

Apr 2, 2011

Apr 2, 2011 at 5:41 PM UTC

james-banks-worsham

Old Country Song

Cold and lonely sights like these Scare and push me toward the ****** Of nights I knew so well when I was young Of closing bars and empty lots Nightly walks and ***** thoughts Things I'd thought my frozen hands had wrung But now they're back and tempting me In silent forms that I can't flee Like an image some old musician once had sung

9

I know you've got a heart of gold and emotions that run along your sleeves but lately, you're better with a bottle and some scrapped knees. You're introverted A minuet ****** But it's not the the skin you bare Or the the way you touch It's the way you've given up You grew into the buildings And buried yourself inside between a mattress and ***** sheets They won't save you No, my beautiful raggedy Anne No, they'll turn that heart of gold to stone They'll paint your face with prophecies- Little indecencies You'll be ripped from some ***** banks magazine A pin up doll Such a perfectly decayed dream I want to cut the string that holds you up Hit the ground running- Remove your mind from others hands and Fight Let bad blood filter into the streets and watch the acquainted burn into the night

0

Oct 9, 2013

Oct 9, 2013 at 11:59 PM UTC

tiffanie-noel-doro

Introverted ******

I know you've got a heart of gold and emotions that run along your sleeves but lately, you're better with a bottle and some scrapped knees. You're introverted A minuet ****** But it's not the the skin you bare Or the the way you touch It's the way you've given up You grew into the buildings And buried yourself inside between a mattress and ***** sheets They won't save you No, my beautiful raggedy Anne No, they'll turn that heart of gold to stone They'll paint your face with prophecies- Little indecencies You'll be ripped from some ***** banks magazine A pin up doll Such a perfectly decayed dream I want to cut the string that holds you up Hit the ground running- Remove your mind from others hands and Fight Let bad blood filter into the streets and watch the acquainted burn into the night

24

Used to be convincing, now I'm word mincing Funny guy telling lies, stop that face from wincing Shut the word forge down, absurd surge start to pour out Brain matter splatter in colored conviction, how I rattle off with four dimensional diction Once this **** was scripted, now these lips don't do cryptic, legendary fiction, not yet mythic Contemporary Christians sit listless, labeling those they hardly know That's we, people like me, as infamous and wicked, can you even conceive Not that I need the acquittal, never say please for a spoon full of ****** Hate this human disease; doubtful economic, muted mumbles of Ebonics, questionable hearts freeze Turned cold-blooded because violence it seems is our cure all reprieve Instead of honest admittance, no room for forgiveness, when we elect politics that lie Ignite the engines that chain drive, infernal furnaces of the reapers design Calling out to the sky; "forgive us were blind!" Upon final inception, the birth of nightmarish conception Awoken to world of hard line lesson, seasons of trick testing So tell me then, can you live with A or B? dip those toes into sea and you'll know what I mean Dare you to please.

0

Jan 10, 2014

Jan 10, 2014 at 12:43 PM UTC

scipio-africanus

Untitled

Used to be convincing, now I'm word mincing Funny guy telling lies, stop that face from wincing Shut the word forge down, absurd surge start to pour out Brain matter splatter in colored conviction, how I rattle off with four dimensional diction Once this **** was scripted, now these lips don't do cryptic, legendary fiction, not yet mythic Contemporary Christians sit listless, labeling those they hardly know That's we, people like me, as infamous and wicked, can you even conceive Not that I need the acquittal, never say please for a spoon full of ****** Hate this human disease; doubtful economic, muted mumbles of Ebonics, questionable hearts freeze Turned cold-blooded because violence it seems is our cure all reprieve Instead of honest admittance, no room for forgiveness, when we elect politics that lie Ignite the engines that chain drive, infernal furnaces of the reapers design Calling out to the sky; "forgive us were blind!" Upon final inception, the birth of nightmarish conception Awoken to world of hard line lesson, seasons of trick testing So tell me then, can you live with A or B? dip those toes into sea and you'll know what I mean Dare you to please.

17

Take me back to Chelsea please Where the flossed and glossed smile at me And everyone’s kind to an open mind That’s materialistic in design. Where locals embrace me all open armed Whenever I’m crinkling cash in my palms. So eject me fast from this boorish ****** And take me back to Chelsea please. Take me back to Chelsea please Outside the city’s financial squeeze Where mummy and daddy pay the cheques For my escargots and Ready Brek. I’ll wield through the system with the family name And use all the power of my local fame. Oh, to live life without la joie de fees Come take me back to Chelsea please. Take me back to Chelsea please To put my social norms at ease. I miss my measly excuse of friends Who constantly ***** to make amends For their failed entrepreneurial careers Their dialect a hodgepodge of gobbles and sneers. I long for their monotonous wheeze So take me back to Chelsea please. Chelsea, Chelsea you’re all I adore From the A308 to the A304. You’re the sole nirvana I can’t bear to depart, Your femmes fatales know the paths to my heart. But you will always have the its lock and key So Chelsea: come and take me back please.

0

Jan 8, 2017

Jan 8, 2017 at 5:47 PM UTC

wordsbadlywoven

Take me back to Chelsea

Take me back to Chelsea please Where the flossed and glossed smile at me And everyone’s kind to an open mind That’s materialistic in design. Where locals embrace me all open armed Whenever I’m crinkling cash in my palms. So eject me fast from this boorish ****** And take me back to Chelsea please. Take me back to Chelsea please Outside the city’s financial squeeze Where mummy and daddy pay the cheques For my escargots and Ready Brek. I’ll wield through the system with the family name And use all the power of my local fame. Oh, to live life without la joie de fees Come take me back to Chelsea please. Take me back to Chelsea please To put my social norms at ease. I miss my measly excuse of friends Who constantly ***** to make amends For their failed entrepreneurial careers Their dialect a hodgepodge of gobbles and sneers. I long for their monotonous wheeze So take me back to Chelsea please. Chelsea, Chelsea you’re all I adore From the A308 to the A304. You’re the sole nirvana I can’t bear to depart, Your femmes fatales know the paths to my heart. But you will always have the its lock and key So Chelsea: come and take me back please.

30

The transvestite in the corner sauntered over to me dripping ****** while I tightly gripped j&b; on the rocks in a heavy glass ignoring myself and he whispers heavily in my ear after colliding with the bar, sitting down hard "I want to be treated like a woman, and ****** like one." The ****** next to us at the bar, Thin legs crossed, drinkless and bruised hearing this, turned, Saying around a thin menthol on a long filter "Oh' honee'y" Making a small 'tch 'tch 'tch noise with her tongue seductively. "You don't **** us, *we **** you.*"

0

Oct 10, 2010

Oct 10, 2010 at 8:54 AM UTC

B_Lid

Unabashed Debauchery.

The transvestite in the corner sauntered over to me dripping ****** while I tightly gripped j&b; on the rocks in a heavy glass ignoring myself and he whispers heavily in my ear after colliding with the bar, sitting down hard "I want to be treated like a woman, and ****** like one." The ****** next to us at the bar, Thin legs crossed, drinkless and bruised hearing this, turned, Saying around a thin menthol on a long filter "Oh' honee'y" Making a small 'tch 'tch 'tch noise with her tongue seductively. "You don't **** us, *we **** you.*"

15

TREES BLOWING IN THE NIGHT SKY MELLOWING SLOWLY AS I WALK ON BY THE GENTLE BREEZE SUMMER ****** NIGHT LIFE EASING SOMEWHAT PLEASING FROM THE SUDDEN PACE OF MORNING GRACE THE DAWN HAS PAST SO FAST TAKEN FOR GRANTED TO FIND THE ANSWER AND THE AROMA OF AIR STILL AND BARE FLOWERS HAVE BLOOMED AS THE DAY TIME LOOMED UPON BROKEN DREAMS AS IT SEEMS HOPE AND FEARS THROUGHOUT THE YEARS LINGERING LONGINGLY EXCEPTIONALLY TASTE OF THE NIGHT LIFE AND SMELL OF GLADNESS UNTIL THE END

0

Aug 30, 2013

Aug 30, 2013 at 5:20 PM UTC

carolyn-bayne

THE AIR WE BREATHE

TREES BLOWING IN THE NIGHT SKY MELLOWING SLOWLY AS I WALK ON BY THE GENTLE BREEZE SUMMER ****** NIGHT LIFE EASING SOMEWHAT PLEASING FROM THE SUDDEN PACE OF MORNING GRACE THE DAWN HAS PAST SO FAST TAKEN FOR GRANTED TO FIND THE ANSWER AND THE AROMA OF AIR STILL AND BARE FLOWERS HAVE BLOOMED AS THE DAY TIME LOOMED UPON BROKEN DREAMS AS IT SEEMS HOPE AND FEARS THROUGHOUT THE YEARS LINGERING LONGINGLY EXCEPTIONALLY TASTE OF THE NIGHT LIFE AND SMELL OF GLADNESS UNTIL THE END

25

I can do whatever I want, I can do whatever I please, dress myself in dirt and lingerie, wear my filth on my sleeve, a ***** a ****** I've just got a fixation for the darkness that draws you in, I hope my eyes are empty, I hope my pulse is weak, I get high off my hearts palpitations, I'm the yeast in your mouth, the E. Coli in your bowels, I'm the **** underneath your nails, wipe the snot off my lips and rub it in my cuts, I'm a walking talking bacterial infection, a living breathing cesspool, human garbage. - S.G.

0

Dec 9, 2013

Dec 9, 2013 at 3:04 AM UTC

stella-gamber

Pathogenic.

I can do whatever I want, I can do whatever I please, dress myself in dirt and lingerie, wear my filth on my sleeve, a ***** a ****** I've just got a fixation for the darkness that draws you in, I hope my eyes are empty, I hope my pulse is weak, I get high off my hearts palpitations, I'm the yeast in your mouth, the E. Coli in your bowels, I'm the **** underneath your nails, wipe the snot off my lips and rub it in my cuts, I'm a walking talking bacterial infection, a living breathing cesspool, human garbage. - S.G.

22

The sound of silence. Peace after violence. A mother’s browbeaten servitude. A child’s coerced gratitude. The world’s most prosperous nations. Architects of the most dangerous machinations. Economies like never before; A life that still leaves you wanting more. The embezzlement of public finances. The settlement of a case’s nuances. Two colluding entities declaring each other free of ****** With ease, starving YOUR wallet until YOU are down on your knees. The oath: ‘to protect and serve.’ The reality? ‘To suspect and unnerve.’ A cartel that’s in charge of the guns; Like leaving a brothel in the hands of Huns. The lie of representation in government. The election, expectation of endowment. Spending your life washing your master’s feet, Then somehow being surprised by their trickery and deceit. The mistake of prioritising convenience. The finalising of our own, eventual obsolescence. We are a species that will die Clueless of our role in it, desperately asking ‘why?’ When it’s way too late.

0

Aug 19, 2018

Aug 19, 2018 at 9:17 AM UTC

Jdelia420

Paradoxical couplets

The sound of silence. Peace after violence. A mother’s browbeaten servitude. A child’s coerced gratitude. The world’s most prosperous nations. Architects of the most dangerous machinations. Economies like never before; A life that still leaves you wanting more. The embezzlement of public finances. The settlement of a case’s nuances. Two colluding entities declaring each other free of ****** With ease, starving YOUR wallet until YOU are down on your knees. The oath: ‘to protect and serve.’ The reality? ‘To suspect and unnerve.’ A cartel that’s in charge of the guns; Like leaving a brothel in the hands of Huns. The lie of representation in government. The election, expectation of endowment. Spending your life washing your master’s feet, Then somehow being surprised by their trickery and deceit. The mistake of prioritising convenience. The finalising of our own, eventual obsolescence. We are a species that will die Clueless of our role in it, desperately asking ‘why?’ When it’s way too late.

25

The Satan residing in the cornea, Tries too hard to insist And the continuously contaminated Clockwork fails to resist. The ***** of the aces – Corrupt In a while it will erupt, And puke out disrupt ****** emotions outburst Of unbearable lust. The pubescent plaque Haemorrhages seeds of deeds Culminates all over – the wicked weeds. Seductive seas The mind browses ****** ***** the louses. Engulfed in the trap of crap Cornea turns Pornea.

0

Mar 4, 2010

Mar 4, 2010 at 12:11 PM UTC

shiva-nagri

Pornea

The Satan residing in the cornea, Tries too hard to insist And the continuously contaminated Clockwork fails to resist. The ***** of the aces – Corrupt In a while it will erupt, And puke out disrupt ****** emotions outburst Of unbearable lust. The pubescent plaque Haemorrhages seeds of deeds Culminates all over – the wicked weeds. Seductive seas The mind browses ****** ***** the louses. Engulfed in the trap of crap Cornea turns Pornea.

17

I don’t care if you steal a quick look, when you think I can’t see it. As long as it’s furtive, it’s by the book. A man looks at a woman; it’s only human. But when you stare at my big “girls”, then leer in my face-- you’re a disgrace. I’m not putting up with your ****** The next time it happens, I’m going Thelma and Louise.

0

Jun 22, 2017

Jun 22, 2017 at 9:52 PM UTC

scarlet-mccall

Thelma and Louise Part 2 (PF re-post)

I don’t care if you steal a quick look, when you think I can’t see it. As long as it’s furtive, it’s by the book. A man looks at a woman; it’s only human. But when you stare at my big “girls”, then leer in my face-- you’re a disgrace. I’m not putting up with your ****** The next time it happens, I’m going Thelma and Louise.

11

Are you blind? Can you not see? I do this **** without a thought I do this **** so effort Less - ly Like an old man sittin in his rockin chair Sippin on some green - tea Like I'm speedin down The highway just free to be - me Can you not see? Writings like an ***** and it functions like a heart - beat Boom boom - strap your ***** in and find a comfy *** - seat Boom boom - my writings all be formin when I'm walkin down the **** street Boom boom - Ima be lol'in as my fans line up - boom boom - for a meet n greet. Do you finally - see? Its like a mean grean hulkish transformation Ima straight beast. I be smashing competition like Michael Jordan - its a straight feast. Hulk smash! Its a fine treat. I be swishing all my buckets as they All be kissin my - feet It all comes without a thought and Comes very natural- ly like a virus - coursing through my veins like a musical dis - sease Ima sneeze... Achoo! And pass it onto others - as much as I - please. ***** freeze! Ima infect the world with my Musical. - ****** Now that I've laid my piece While sippin on some green tea While ridin so free I hope you finally - see - Ima straight beast. Peace! 😂

0

Oct 25, 2020

Oct 25, 2020 at 3:03 PM UTC

SirxKenneth88

My Hand At Rappin

Are you blind? Can you not see? I do this **** without a thought I do this **** so effort Less - ly Like an old man sittin in his rockin chair Sippin on some green - tea Like I'm speedin down The highway just free to be - me Can you not see? Writings like an ***** and it functions like a heart - beat Boom boom - strap your ***** in and find a comfy *** - seat Boom boom - my writings all be formin when I'm walkin down the **** street Boom boom - Ima be lol'in as my fans line up - boom boom - for a meet n greet. Do you finally - see? Its like a mean grean hulkish transformation Ima straight beast. I be smashing competition like Michael Jordan - its a straight feast. Hulk smash! Its a fine treat. I be swishing all my buckets as they All be kissin my - feet It all comes without a thought and Comes very natural- ly like a virus - coursing through my veins like a musical dis - sease Ima sneeze... Achoo! And pass it onto others - as much as I - please. ***** freeze! Ima infect the world with my Musical. - ****** Now that I've laid my piece While sippin on some green tea While ridin so free I hope you finally - see - Ima straight beast. Peace! 😂

34

By the old garages near the railway sidings slipping or sliding, through the tiding hiding away, or near to the solemn aspects of ****** with ease, she can tease the eve of your heave- ** or go, no, stay, she says, just today, or all of your tomorrows shall be forgotten Lonely was the name on a tag, lagged, left forgotten at the bottom of the river, where she lay, today, floating away- But he stays, the way his spirit lays, let( )down or all around this town, how it lingers; the memory of love or lust on drunken Friday nights by the fright of old Frank Alight, setting alight the houses in furor, or moor the more he bores by the moored shore of that amour armoured, charmed, alarmed at the speech patterns in the night sky, as she lay down to die, or to cry, questioning why, Frank could try and do this, Brutus, brutally mutually assured destruction, social construction or constriction, the friction of hands around the throat, she never floats, just sinks corpses stink, porous ink stained every lane leading to the place where in disgrace, he beat her face, and replaced the lace, in the place leading to the lake

0

Aug 12, 2014

Aug 12, 2014 at 4:54 PM UTC

reece

Reciprocating Precipitation, Stained the Nation (No Adulation for Emancipation)

By the old garages near the railway sidings slipping or sliding, through the tiding hiding away, or near to the solemn aspects of ****** with ease, she can tease the eve of your heave- ** or go, no, stay, she says, just today, or all of your tomorrows shall be forgotten Lonely was the name on a tag, lagged, left forgotten at the bottom of the river, where she lay, today, floating away- But he stays, the way his spirit lays, let( )down or all around this town, how it lingers; the memory of love or lust on drunken Friday nights by the fright of old Frank Alight, setting alight the houses in furor, or moor the more he bores by the moored shore of that amour armoured, charmed, alarmed at the speech patterns in the night sky, as she lay down to die, or to cry, questioning why, Frank could try and do this, Brutus, brutally mutually assured destruction, social construction or constriction, the friction of hands around the throat, she never floats, just sinks corpses stink, porous ink stained every lane leading to the place where in disgrace, he beat her face, and replaced the lace, in the place leading to the lake

26

silencio green headless are on the counter screaming their watch-less glare they lie silent in their wrathful stare at my wall-less lair this was not supposed to be the bilipid layered says I cannot watch you out to die the zeroes yell this time coreless deficient famine the clock ticks its time i think my mom is at the dock of the sea harbor in Sublime and don't their lobsters never die? if that is cake then so be it and then we will make you mine. chant with me, hey no more negativity, we'll go out and find a dime it was till then I saw the ****** at the rear end of the bus who told me... no more... no less was what the bus was fee-d a journey travelled and journey lost to Target I ventured to and back and here the sandless land I find you weighed measured and broken by your own laughing stairs. llorando

0

Oct 16, 2012

Oct 16, 2012 at 2:17 AM UTC

waveringtags

America's Favorite Peanut Butter

silencio green headless are on the counter screaming their watch-less glare they lie silent in their wrathful stare at my wall-less lair this was not supposed to be the bilipid layered says I cannot watch you out to die the zeroes yell this time coreless deficient famine the clock ticks its time i think my mom is at the dock of the sea harbor in Sublime and don't their lobsters never die? if that is cake then so be it and then we will make you mine. chant with me, hey no more negativity, we'll go out and find a dime it was till then I saw the ****** at the rear end of the bus who told me... no more... no less was what the bus was fee-d a journey travelled and journey lost to Target I ventured to and back and here the sandless land I find you weighed measured and broken by your own laughing stairs. llorando

30

I am your disease, every time I come around you vanish me in every cry whimper or sneeze I am the ****** in side your head you are to scared to embrace I am the horns of the devil and the smile upon the angels face I am the dream you cant control I am the drug that makes you go we've turned into the monster that we fought not to be deep in a darkened whole black eyes no longer see burning bridges perceptive imperfection a left hand turn in the right direction I am your release everything you want you take from me echoing your disease all you are and all you will ever be elapse relapse reprise your demise I am the horns of the devil redesigned objects perplex reflect there subjects I'm the smile upon the angels face you are the moral in my dark soul the purpose to be found a voice tells you to let go it's more beautiful 6 feet underground laying in bed dreams of voluntary aggression upon waking disappointing depression or are we being naive now, thought dissection deflect suspect rejects, infection perfection who will even see the things we create think it's great to annihilate the whole human race debilitating thoughts not knowing how to feel like naive dogs lost without there master treasure pain, because without pain there is no pleasure hit the main vain insanly refrain from the mundain strain bane lame thoughts plains of blood stains I'm asking not knowing what is real conditions of contradiction & elusive entities entanglement of putrid bodies in a mind stricken by poverty

0

Apr 2, 2015

Apr 2, 2015 at 7:14 AM UTC

leal-knowone

Malady

I am your disease, every time I come around you vanish me in every cry whimper or sneeze I am the ****** in side your head you are to scared to embrace I am the horns of the devil and the smile upon the angels face I am the dream you cant control I am the drug that makes you go we've turned into the monster that we fought not to be deep in a darkened whole black eyes no longer see burning bridges perceptive imperfection a left hand turn in the right direction I am your release everything you want you take from me echoing your disease all you are and all you will ever be elapse relapse reprise your demise I am the horns of the devil redesigned objects perplex reflect there subjects I'm the smile upon the angels face you are the moral in my dark soul the purpose to be found a voice tells you to let go it's more beautiful 6 feet underground laying in bed dreams of voluntary aggression upon waking disappointing depression or are we being naive now, thought dissection deflect suspect rejects, infection perfection who will even see the things we create think it's great to annihilate the whole human race debilitating thoughts not knowing how to feel like naive dogs lost without there master treasure pain, because without pain there is no pleasure hit the main vain insanly refrain from the mundain strain bane lame thoughts plains of blood stains I'm asking not knowing what is real conditions of contradiction & elusive entities entanglement of putrid bodies in a mind stricken by poverty

45

Hey, look at me. Skin shown, cleavage down to my toes. I know how to make them look, I can make them want. I'm the heart-breaker, Twirl you around my perfectly manicured finger, I know how to breathe. I know how to ****** I'm the girl everyone wants to be. Perfectly advertised, desirable. Beauty, intelligence All pertains to me. Who am I? I'm every teenage girl, who Has no self-esteem. Who lies, cheats, and manipulates, just to be seen. And I have a question, Still want to be me?

0

Apr 29, 2012

Apr 29, 2012 at 8:16 PM UTC

miranda-santoro

Typical.

Hey, look at me. Skin shown, cleavage down to my toes. I know how to make them look, I can make them want. I'm the heart-breaker, Twirl you around my perfectly manicured finger, I know how to breathe. I know how to ****** I'm the girl everyone wants to be. Perfectly advertised, desirable. Beauty, intelligence All pertains to me. Who am I? I'm every teenage girl, who Has no self-esteem. Who lies, cheats, and manipulates, just to be seen. And I have a question, Still want to be me?

18

Steve You make me feel like a ****** I just want to love you Till your parents walk through. No door to the room I wonder if you smell my perfume Euphoria is the name Just like our flame. I love feeling you Just to touch you Gives me thrills And the consequential chills. I replay it in my head That time in your bed Holding each other like we’re cold So intimately you hold. I wonder if we will marry And you will be my Jerry If we will be stable like a rock And down the aisle we will walk. God I want you so bad But I don’t know what is out there I think of you before I sleep Us in a pair. Please love me The way I love you It would make my life The way I always imagined it to. Your mom is a drunk Your dad is cool If you end up like him I would be a fool Not to marry you. I could watch you watch sports Just like I did with my dad I would enjoy every minute of it And I know you would like my stepdad. So please tell me You like me too I will always like you Steve this I promise you.

0

Dec 26, 2013

Dec 26, 2013 at 3:59 PM UTC

amanda-s-1

Steve

Steve You make me feel like a ****** I just want to love you Till your parents walk through. No door to the room I wonder if you smell my perfume Euphoria is the name Just like our flame. I love feeling you Just to touch you Gives me thrills And the consequential chills. I replay it in my head That time in your bed Holding each other like we’re cold So intimately you hold. I wonder if we will marry And you will be my Jerry If we will be stable like a rock And down the aisle we will walk. God I want you so bad But I don’t know what is out there I think of you before I sleep Us in a pair. Please love me The way I love you It would make my life The way I always imagined it to. Your mom is a drunk Your dad is cool If you end up like him I would be a fool Not to marry you. I could watch you watch sports Just like I did with my dad I would enjoy every minute of it And I know you would like my stepdad. So please tell me You like me too I will always like you Steve this I promise you.

41

In the mirror you make no glisten yet you are so real and I still have to listen; my reality, my dreams steal My mind binds me away from trusting; why must I not speak to the only things that amount to something? Why are you so quiet? Silence eats at my insides anxiety bites my stomach, decaying matter resides My infectious disease quite ugly, pain filling with ****** You ruined me, I miss your thrills left my tongue with stretch marks from abundance of pills...

0

Sep 12, 2016

Sep 12, 2016 at 8:12 PM UTC

elise-t

Special Help

In the mirror you make no glisten yet you are so real and I still have to listen; my reality, my dreams steal My mind binds me away from trusting; why must I not speak to the only things that amount to something? Why are you so quiet? Silence eats at my insides anxiety bites my stomach, decaying matter resides My infectious disease quite ugly, pain filling with ****** You ruined me, I miss your thrills left my tongue with stretch marks from abundance of pills...

16

You like a troll. You ain't got no bankroll. You dance on a stripper pole. You live in a sh*t hole. During the day you hibernate like a mole. Everything you got you stole. You lost all hope. You can't see your life under a microscope. Around the house you mope. Don't look at me like I'm mother teresa or the pope. There's another life on the other side of the slope.

0

Jan 10, 2015

Jan 10, 2015 at 9:30 PM UTC

harmony-sapphire

Lifestyles of the ****** & Unfamous

You like a troll. You ain't got no bankroll. You dance on a stripper pole. You live in a sh*t hole. During the day you hibernate like a mole. Everything you got you stole. You lost all hope. You can't see your life under a microscope. Around the house you mope. Don't look at me like I'm mother teresa or the pope. There's another life on the other side of the slope.

11

I am your disease, every time I come around you vanish me in every cry whimper or sneeze I am the ****** in side your head you are to scared to embrace I am the horns of the devil and the smile upon the angels face I am the dream you cant control I am the voice that tells you to let go it can only last so long before we all lose control I've turned into the monster that I fought not to be deep in a darkened whole in an instance, just an instance burning bridges sewing stitches broken wishes perceptive imperfection a left hand turn in the right direction I am your release everything you want you take from me elapse relapse reprise your reprise I am the ****** in side your head cut off noise to spit there face I am the horns of the devil and the smile upon the angels face you are the moral in my dark soul I am the voice that tells you to let go laying in bed dreams of voluntary aggression upon waking disappointing depression has a purpose really been found or are we being naive now it's more beautiful 6 feet underground voice ripped out as you try to make a sound who will even see the things we create think it's great to annihilate the whole human race get involved and help dispose of the waste debilitating thoughts not knowing how to feel like naive dogs lost without there master treasure pain because without pain there is no pleasure I'm asking not knowing what is real conditions of contradiction & elusive entities entanglement of putrid bodies in a mind stricken by poverty I am your release everything you want you take from me elapse relapse reprise your reprise I am the ****** in side your head cut off noise to spit there face I am the horns of the devil and the smile upon the angels face you are the moral in my dark soul I am the voice that tells you to let go

0

Feb 24, 2015

Feb 24, 2015 at 9:31 PM UTC

leal-knowone

Horned God

I am your disease, every time I come around you vanish me in every cry whimper or sneeze I am the ****** in side your head you are to scared to embrace I am the horns of the devil and the smile upon the angels face I am the dream you cant control I am the voice that tells you to let go it can only last so long before we all lose control I've turned into the monster that I fought not to be deep in a darkened whole in an instance, just an instance burning bridges sewing stitches broken wishes perceptive imperfection a left hand turn in the right direction I am your release everything you want you take from me elapse relapse reprise your reprise I am the ****** in side your head cut off noise to spit there face I am the horns of the devil and the smile upon the angels face you are the moral in my dark soul I am the voice that tells you to let go laying in bed dreams of voluntary aggression upon waking disappointing depression has a purpose really been found or are we being naive now it's more beautiful 6 feet underground voice ripped out as you try to make a sound who will even see the things we create think it's great to annihilate the whole human race get involved and help dispose of the waste debilitating thoughts not knowing how to feel like naive dogs lost without there master treasure pain because without pain there is no pleasure I'm asking not knowing what is real conditions of contradiction & elusive entities entanglement of putrid bodies in a mind stricken by poverty I am your release everything you want you take from me elapse relapse reprise your reprise I am the ****** in side your head cut off noise to spit there face I am the horns of the devil and the smile upon the angels face you are the moral in my dark soul I am the voice that tells you to let go

55

Zoom me in Mister Rock the seize is here Who cares about that ****** ? The Cirrus clouds falter when the ozones hots up there, good here, Jessica's bronzing by the shadow of the Martello Tower feeding scraps to Koi Fish who have enough love.

0

Jul 8, 2013

Jul 8, 2013 at 5:59 PM UTC

jo-spencer

On a lagoon somewhere

Zoom me in Mister Rock the seize is here Who cares about that ****** ? The Cirrus clouds falter when the ozones hots up there, good here, Jessica's bronzing by the shadow of the Martello Tower feeding scraps to Koi Fish who have enough love.

9

There is a little space within our heart Like a small screen for images from a projector to fall An incessant cinema at play; the modern one, of course! Swiftly edited imagery convey much Than a long winding start to end boring script Faces, Places, Situations, Emotions, everything Become an image, some you remember; And some, you do not forget; Then, some, you cannot forget Is memory made of remembering the unforgotten? The Mathemagician taught: Align names with “time or space” to remember a person Took my own name; said ‘Kal’ is ‘time’ and ‘esh’, ‘God’ Remember Kalesh as “God of Time” During lunch, he asked me “What’s your Name?” To remember, you need a reason A cheque to arrive every month; A date to keep; a scar in the mirror; Some ****** some mystery around the moves; But, as the reason weakens, remembrance fades To retain you in that Space within the heart, I have… Those midnights in my lap, with your eyes gazed at “Tom and Jerry”; Those tasting sessions, I rated awesome- Every dish you made in that “Barbie Kitchen set”; The endless times, losing the fist fights, as you had “Boost for energy” My shameless switch overs of “positions” for your annual debates; Not to forget; not, to remember...

0

Jan 29, 2016

Jan 29, 2016 at 3:19 PM UTC

KaleshKumarAK

To Remember or Not To Forget?!

There is a little space within our heart Like a small screen for images from a projector to fall An incessant cinema at play; the modern one, of course! Swiftly edited imagery convey much Than a long winding start to end boring script Faces, Places, Situations, Emotions, everything Become an image, some you remember; And some, you do not forget; Then, some, you cannot forget Is memory made of remembering the unforgotten? The Mathemagician taught: Align names with “time or space” to remember a person Took my own name; said ‘Kal’ is ‘time’ and ‘esh’, ‘God’ Remember Kalesh as “God of Time” During lunch, he asked me “What’s your Name?” To remember, you need a reason A cheque to arrive every month; A date to keep; a scar in the mirror; Some ****** some mystery around the moves; But, as the reason weakens, remembrance fades To retain you in that Space within the heart, I have… Those midnights in my lap, with your eyes gazed at “Tom and Jerry”; Those tasting sessions, I rated awesome- Every dish you made in that “Barbie Kitchen set”; The endless times, losing the fist fights, as you had “Boost for energy” My shameless switch overs of “positions” for your annual debates; Not to forget; not, to remember...

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