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"terminate" poems
You choose to ask me about me, you choose to want to know me. You speak words out my vocabulary! You speak of your world so fine. You lure me into your mind. You try speak the truth while talking lies. You tell me about beauty and brains combined. You tell me I look fine and my poetry is in line. You tell me you'd want to know if I'm woman enough. If I can really play tough with whips and cuffs! I ask you how? Cause this is my body? What more can a woman define being a woman? I then realise the misconception. Try give you direction, but your minds path is too narrow, filled with ***** ***** and lubes! Reluctant to teach a head with no backbone, I smile:) you then begin again. You tell me that that smile you have, is worth a million rands, you tell me my curves don't lie, that could handle me right? you tell me about the bed, the floor, the kitchen counter, you define me by how many rounds I can encounter! This is my body..how dare you try you undress me? How dare you define my womanhood out of desperate needs? You terminate my soul and don't bother to ask more. You say thanx like I did a good job. For watering your ego and moaning your insecurities away. Respect my body sir. Then ill Salute you.
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Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 7:17 AM UTC
Respect my body
1196 To make Routine a Stimulus Remember it can cease— Capacity to Terminate Is a Specific Grace— Of Retrospect the Arrow That power to repair Departed with the Torment Become, alas, more fair—
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5.2k
To make Routine a Stimulus
I thank the Lord above For all the times That I fell in love And I thank the one below For the pain That I have come to know I know it so well Through the scars From all the times I fell They’re the reason why I’m an empty shell They have shattered my hopes And destroyed my dreams But it’s the love I have That muffles my screams I have more love than pain Or so it seems Until I’m crushed with this burden And I come apart at the seems But my soul burns bright No one can dim it But this girl just pushes me Everyday to my limit She drives me crazy Completely insane And for a minute I feel nothing Not even the pain But once control I regain It becomes all too familiar I wonder if it’s worth this And is it my fault Did I birth this? Did I terminate this bliss? Did I do something wrong? If I did Why has this been going on so long? If this isn’t feeding off love Then what’s it running on? My brain twisting and turning With different notions My heart flaming and burning With different emotions I struggle to tell you That life isn’t fair And that about you I never did care You try to look into my mind Knowing not the conflict That rages on in there The Devil pushes God pulls so I get no where Whether I should walk away Or sit and stay Is a battle between my heart and my brain That I think never ends I just hope when it stops The right one wins
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Jun 13, 2010
Jun 13, 2010 at 7:17 PM UTC
Victory
All things die All kingdoms fall Every waking hour Incessantly recall Grim reaps all Drip by drip Burn Till wicks end Choice, who here decides? Pleasure beguiles, sets purpose via Once voice strewn, lost through Millions of cries in the continuum Each time you blink your eyes There is a glimpse Behold! Nothingness! Slaves to your own demise What's the point prolonging? When you are coming forth by day Grim reaps all All the while vitality escapes Eternity succumbs to imminences of fate Familiar pulsating rhythms will terminate So what's the point? Grim reaps us all Coming forth by day
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Aug 16, 2011
Aug 16, 2011 at 8:16 AM UTC
Coming forth by day
I was too young to hate, falling asleep afraid, my dreams never stayed straight, they contorted and they twisted, then the monsters would come and visit,I'd blink and appear in an asylum, hugging the walls in the dark it starts, I'd only be able to hear them, no light and I could never see any windows to know if it was day or night but hearing the sounds would make me take dirt and push it in my eyes to banish my sight, I start to hear the footsteps as they circled around me so I'd stand still in hopes they couldn't hear me but they would mimic my families voices so I couldn't help but reach out and that's when I'd feel something dry and slimy, I'd scream as I notice its loose skin that I'm touching and the tears would wash out the dirt and leave my eyes blurry and grimy, a labyrinth of horrors separated me from the world and my sanity, locked away with the worst things my imagination could conjure, I'd wake up to my parents shaking me and yelling to snap out of it but I'd only see shadows and something separating the head from my fathers shoulders, as a child my sanity was very narrow, nothings worse than trying to sleep at night but instead you see a man sever the leg to your mother then trying to **** out all the bone marrow, I couldn't escape, and every day for so many years I had to suffer at night whenever the black curtains would fall and suffocate, I was too young when I learned to hate, I hated to be me when I wasn't me and I hated to be seen when it wasn't really me, that's when i learned what it was like to be your worst enemy, before I was eight I already felt like I was one big error, I would stay up late but my eyes would fall and my dreams would terminate as I fell into another night terror.
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Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 1:19 AM UTC
Night Terrors
I was too young to hate, falling asleep afraid, my dreams never stayed straight, they contorted and they twisted, then the monsters would come and visit,I'd blink and appear in an asylum, hugging the walls in the dark it starts, I'd only be able to hear them, no light and I could never see any windows to know if it was day or night but hearing the sounds would make me take dirt and push it in my eyes to banish my sight, I start to hear the footsteps as they circled around me so I'd stand still in hopes they couldn't hear me but they would mimic my families voices so I couldn't help but reach out and that's when I'd feel something dry and slimy, I'd scream as I notice its loose skin that I'm touching and the tears would wash out the dirt and leave my eyes blurry and grimy, a labyrinth of horrors separated me from the world and my sanity, locked away with the worst things my imagination could conjure, I'd wake up to my parents shaking me and yelling to snap out of it but I'd only see shadows and something separating the head from my fathers shoulders, as a child my sanity was very narrow, nothings worse than trying to sleep at night but instead you see a man sever the leg to your mother then trying to **** out all the bone marrow, I couldn't escape, and every day for so many years I had to suffer at night whenever the black curtains would fall and suffocate, I was too young when I learned to hate, I hated to be me when I wasn't me and I hated to be seen when it wasn't really me, that's when i learned what it was like to be your worst enemy, before I was eight I already felt like I was one big error, I would stay up late but my eyes would fall and my dreams would terminate as I fell into another night terror.
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Dec 8, 2015
Dec 8, 2015 at 9:36 AM UTC
+27789936586 TOP SPIRITUAL ABORTION CLINIC IN CBD
Put on the old LPs tonight, Alex, from a time long before you were born. Top of the queue was Petula Clark belting out Don't Give Up, defiant as an alley cat in a street fight. Remembered how in her heyday, she'd been forced to conceal the fact that she was married --- all performers being mysteriously virginal in those days. Thoughts segue several years to my time in the service and a female lieutenant who was my OIC. Served a 20 year career, but never knew a finer officer. She realized leadership was saying the things that made you want to follow. Just after making captain, due to pregnancy, she was forced to terminate her service career. Today, women routinely travel in space, perform extreme surgeries, design skyscrappers; one just might become president. And somewhere in the tenements of NYC a young poet spins metaphor straight from the streets and the cosmos, constructing a world in lines we'd all wish to enter.
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Jul 6, 2012
Jul 6, 2012 at 2:22 AM UTC
Don't Give Up --- A Poem for Alexandra
Illuminate my eyes with impossible outcomes oh, my imaginary solidarity someday our angles will tangle and we will be rounded worn down to sawdust from the friction of rubbing elbows but not today no not today I wanted to be the sky I wanted my molecules to terminate and permeate into mush I wanted many things that I could not have and looking down upon this sewer city with lights and rain puddles I realize how far from the ground I am how far from the ground I have come sandy shores and seashell hands i'm struggling with the idea of rolling up my trousers tucking away the clean fabric or letting the dust collect onto the seams and hems into the creases around my eyes I do not want those things that I can not contain and I see myself free-falling upwards into the ocean of seaweed and pearls if only I dared more if only I tried oh I wanna try
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Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 12:01 AM UTC
sea glass and sand dollars
Its silvery eyes full of blazing moon, Its stare as cold as death in brilliant glow, With sense sharply horned of familiar tune Of scared preys hushly scurrying below. With stealthy talons perched on silver bough, Rotating head do help view all round; Then by mysterious commands to strike now A rat in mouth dangle without a sound. This night is there to stalk and terminate; Its mission to **** get the ruffians off. As though allowed on terms to live to mate Under rooftops, barns, it soldiered aloof. You hear it hoot, hooting shadows at night, O'er fields beyond the moon's silvery light.
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Jun 24, 2018
Jun 24, 2018 at 9:59 PM UTC
The Owl; Sonnet #5
I will befriend you because I must, not because I want to. You told me that what I believe in is wrong and what you believe in is right So tell me, it's right to strip away the right to love whomever you want. It's right to tell a girl she cannot terminate a pregnancy even though she was ***** It's wrong for women to want equality? It's wrong for me to be a feminist? This is where you are wrong, because I have grown up my entire life with views on how things should be. We should be able to love whomever we want. To terminate pregnancies if they need to. For women to get some equality because it's opinion. You can believe whatever you want, but do not tell me I am wrong because to me, my opinion is right and yours is wrong.
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Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 11:55 PM UTC
Wrong and Right
594 The Battle fought between the Soul And No Man—is the One Of all the Battles prevalent— By far the Greater One— No News of it is had abroad— Its Bodiless Campaign Establishes, and terminates— Invisible—Unknown— Nor History—record it— As Legions of a Night The Sunrise scatters—These endure— Enact—and terminate—
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The Battle fought between the Soul
Don’t tell me how I should look, I don’t have to please you. I spend my days considering you’re opinion, I shouldn’t have to. You come around here and you judge, and mock, and discriminate In other words, you shoot bullets. Woman belong in the kitchen, huh? Don’t forget it’s where the knives are kept. Everyone knows woman are taught to grow in, I’ve heard it all before Were taught be kind, and timid, and gentle, and caring Why do you think the best guard dogs are female, though? We loyal, and aggressive, and when we work up the nerve we could tackle you to the ground. How many woman spend their days thinking of how to look better? I’d give it a good 98% 98% Think about it And what’s sad is, the last 2% will get no recognition for their inner beauty. Do you even know what inner beauty is? Try watching for it, instead, it might change your world. Now take a step back, take a look, put yourself in my shoes. Be judged by each and every person You think it’s just men that judge? Ha! I’m judged by all of my friends even, I can’t escape it. Men can sit around and say what they want, and do as they please, and be praised for it. That’s bull **** You reek of it. How many woman have dyed their hair for you? How many woman have lost ten pounds for you? How many woman have cried for you? How many know you don’t deserve it? Woman are taught to shrink themselves, but in the words of Beyonce, I woke up flawless. I will choose to eliminate you from my life I will terminate you by any costs, and I will replace you with people who make me feel so **** fine. I will grow into something greater than you will ever be, and you will learn your lesson. I will teach future generation that they are beautiful the way they are No man will tell them whether or not they are beautiful, God knows they don’t have a clue what true beauty is. My friend had a boyfriend once, he would force her to weigh herself weekly and tell him what her weight was. And if she wasn’t small enough, he would force her to work out. I hated him that day forward, and I tell her every day that she is beautiful because her own **** boyfriend couldn’t do it. So much for love. I will rise above, and I will portray beauty for what it really is. I will be the female guard dog this generation of young woman needs. I will teach girls that beauty is what makes you happy. If putting on ten pounds of makeup makes YOU happy, then do it! Never do something for liking of anyone else.
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Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 12:12 PM UTC
Female Guard Dog
Don’t tell me how I should look, I don’t have to please you. I spend my days considering you’re opinion, I shouldn’t have to. You come around here and you judge, and mock, and discriminate In other words, you shoot bullets. Woman belong in the kitchen, huh? Don’t forget it’s where the knives are kept. Everyone knows woman are taught to grow in, I’ve heard it all before Were taught be kind, and timid, and gentle, and caring Why do you think the best guard dogs are female, though? We loyal, and aggressive, and when we work up the nerve we could tackle you to the ground. How many woman spend their days thinking of how to look better? I’d give it a good 98% 98% Think about it And what’s sad is, the last 2% will get no recognition for their inner beauty. Do you even know what inner beauty is? Try watching for it, instead, it might change your world. Now take a step back, take a look, put yourself in my shoes. Be judged by each and every person You think it’s just men that judge? Ha! I’m judged by all of my friends even, I can’t escape it. Men can sit around and say what they want, and do as they please, and be praised for it. That’s bull **** You reek of it. How many woman have dyed their hair for you? How many woman have lost ten pounds for you? How many woman have cried for you? How many know you don’t deserve it? Woman are taught to shrink themselves, but in the words of Beyonce, I woke up flawless. I will choose to eliminate you from my life I will terminate you by any costs, and I will replace you with people who make me feel so **** fine. I will grow into something greater than you will ever be, and you will learn your lesson. I will teach future generation that they are beautiful the way they are No man will tell them whether or not they are beautiful, God knows they don’t have a clue what true beauty is. My friend had a boyfriend once, he would force her to weigh herself weekly and tell him what her weight was. And if she wasn’t small enough, he would force her to work out. I hated him that day forward, and I tell her every day that she is beautiful because her own **** boyfriend couldn’t do it. So much for love. I will rise above, and I will portray beauty for what it really is. I will be the female guard dog this generation of young woman needs. I will teach girls that beauty is what makes you happy. If putting on ten pounds of makeup makes YOU happy, then do it! Never do something for liking of anyone else.
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Drumsticks pound at a continuous beat For every fourth count they sound And they resonate like the drone Of a hive of bumblebees. Common sense tells oneself to hide – Run far, far away from the sound of the drone – For if one gets too close, a sting will ensue. I, however, cannot run; The hive is in my head, And it gets louder every day. No spray, no poison can terminate No net, no flower can rid My mind of the little terrors Lurking at the end of my ear canals. For the monsters are trapped – I am trapped – in an invisible prison, A prison which was has no key, no guards. With impenetrable walls of steel And the torture of loudness that Not even an immortal could endure. But the worst term of my sentence is time – I will be here for a very long time – As I will be imprisoned here Forever.
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Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 10:53 PM UTC
Dragging a cup across the jail bars
Dear God we need to leave this town, friends! Please don't let me abandon you all here shivering in underemployment The West is calling with a Daniel "BOOM," the South whispers in a mountain mama window pat Other countries laugh at us, but will we join their jeers, show them we are not just circus bears? Multi-national parasites, we're too trivially divided to terminate O God, how my leisure hours went, so much faster than the work room's ones without any vent I complained and complained to my friends and fam on the phone, but the time just spiraled stagnant like a slow spirit taking six thousand years to explore a too small habitat I haven't got nearly so long.
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Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 8:07 PM UTC
Every Night Get the Spark, the Feeling of
Every employee's name was listed in the address field Except for one The one I never noticed That we never noticed We all marched into the meeting room as ordered Found the CEO on an extra tall stage To tell us "Today is Emma McGurk's last day But she says it's the first day Of her tenure As Director of Forecasting of Unintended Consequences She's not going So I need all of you, all 300 of you, To help me terminator." (Or was that terminate her?) So we gave each other Brady Bunch nods I had to look up to make eye contact (or is that I contact?) with superiors Then we marched to The cubicle of Emma McGurk Me remembering what Santa Ana had said: "With a few hundred more men like the San Patricios, Mexico would have won the battle." And the battle wasn't to be won by us It was to be won by Emma McGurk The CEO tried to move her Ten of us tried to move her Then one hundred And then all three hundred Even I made an effort But she wouldn't budge So we had to move... To another building Hearing that Emma McGurk was still ensconced In the position existing only in her noggin Until finally the old building had to be imploded A fifth-grader winning the honor of triggering That dusty downfall of Emma McGurk's cubicle And the building that sheltered it It wasn't until Signing Day Eve That I saw her again Pouring ink at a haiku-con "The pay wouldn't be that bad," she told me. "If it was by the snicker instead of the word."
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Jun 8, 2012
Jun 8, 2012 at 9:35 PM UTC
The cubicle of Emma McGurk
Sara L Russell 17/3/15 at 13:25 What will they say of you in future times? Were they duped by your duplicity or did you fall on your double-edged sword? Was the devil we knew any better than the unknown? The future has a way of arriving early. Are you ready now, for what it yet may bring? Will you be knighted, or, benighted and beleaguered, Fall fallow by the wayside of your ways? Will the name of Cameron carry on, Whatever else is lost or left behind? Will David slay the apocolyptic giant of global warming, yet terminate the service of National Health? Was it wealth, or a poverty of emotional maturity that led to such flotations and privatisations? what sensations did you feel, did you reach referendum, did you feel the earth move? We never saw your manifesto made manifest. We, the voters who voted not for you, yet saw you rise, anticipate your fall. Do promises count as any kind of plan? And the future is arriving post-haste, like a present waiting to be unwrapped. Elections have a way of arriving early. We are ready, with a big sharp X.
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Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 9:35 AM UTC
The Name of Cameron
PREAMBLE *in the future we’ll all be perfect and there’ll be peace forever and no one will have to complain ever cos we’ll know every part of body and brain and mind and we’ll have them all fixed wherever* 1 in the future people will not say 'Ouch!' they will say 'Yum!' cos we’ll have fixed the part in the brain where they feel pain and it’ll all be pleasure but the skin point or tissue point would all have implants for auto-repair 2 in the future people need not go to school cos we’ll have enough good drugs to fix their brains and diamond points in their folds for life-long updates and upgrades; and those Outdates we'll slow humane-terminate 3 in the future people will never feel negative or down cos we’ll know where it comes from and flood it with the juices from the smiley area cos we’ll know where they come from too and we can control brain droughts and mind floods 4 in the future women will not carry babies nor men either; so couples can have *** each strong in desire and like satyrs in performance and all no condoms either and they’ll never conceive cos we’ll have all the combinations ever in frozen silos that we’ll make copulate in infinite possibilities and impossibilities 5 we’ll still have nations though cos the Leaders will be able to choose what brains they want their citizens to have and all engineered in the Nation Babies Pods where all babies will come from so that we will still have China Mind, America Mind, Poland Mind, India Mind, Japanese Mind, Dutch Mind, Polynesia Mind, Utopia Mind, Ideal Mind, Reptile Mind, God Mind and so on… so really you needn't worry; you'll still have personality *so really in the future we’ll all be perfect and there’ll be peace forever and no one will have to complain ever*
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Oct 24, 2010
Oct 24, 2010 at 2:44 AM UTC
my brave new world
PREAMBLE *in the future we’ll all be perfect and there’ll be peace forever and no one will have to complain ever cos we’ll know every part of body and brain and mind and we’ll have them all fixed wherever* 1 in the future people will not say 'Ouch!' they will say 'Yum!' cos we’ll have fixed the part in the brain where they feel pain and it’ll all be pleasure but the skin point or tissue point would all have implants for auto-repair 2 in the future people need not go to school cos we’ll have enough good drugs to fix their brains and diamond points in their folds for life-long updates and upgrades; and those Outdates we'll slow humane-terminate 3 in the future people will never feel negative or down cos we’ll know where it comes from and flood it with the juices from the smiley area cos we’ll know where they come from too and we can control brain droughts and mind floods 4 in the future women will not carry babies nor men either; so couples can have *** each strong in desire and like satyrs in performance and all no condoms either and they’ll never conceive cos we’ll have all the combinations ever in frozen silos that we’ll make copulate in infinite possibilities and impossibilities 5 we’ll still have nations though cos the Leaders will be able to choose what brains they want their citizens to have and all engineered in the Nation Babies Pods where all babies will come from so that we will still have China Mind, America Mind, Poland Mind, India Mind, Japanese Mind, Dutch Mind, Polynesia Mind, Utopia Mind, Ideal Mind, Reptile Mind, God Mind and so on… so really you needn't worry; you'll still have personality *so really in the future we’ll all be perfect and there’ll be peace forever and no one will have to complain ever*
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In my head I am the Russian Roulatte In a tee *** I beg for trust When poured out The foam becomes of your mouth I do buisness in China Shipped to Pueto Rico Make tongues flip as sharp as a Nurican Dominican Jitter till hearts stop beating on top of Italian pool tables I steal breathes from science who believe in what is not in the Bible I am your Russian Roulette Make a feline spray a *** spot in here ****** Make a King errect New Your late night star lights when they stu'n Change the tune in your song from spittin rap versus to singing to God that you was wrong I beat the drugs Put a end to your habbit So when you feel you cant utter a verse I'll let you howl like a suffering rabbit Because no one knows how to use me right I am the only bullet tucked in to take away your life As soon as I leap forward to your attention you will be adoment to a pension Stire clear I am here No intentions but to terminate erosions Respect what I may Careful when you choose to play You must reconsider the outcome I am The Russian Roulette. © the Russian Roulette S.T. Rebel of Eden
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Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 6:58 AM UTC
THE RUSSIAN ROULETTE: hard street style poetry
**Standing barefoot on cold floors, i watch the plant in the window as i swallow the white capsule whose job it is to terminate the throbbing in my membrane, and i am a spinning blur, and i am wondering can you hear the voices that are screaming out of me at this time. at this moment, the rain has stopped and i am finished with my deed, the window looks like soil with paint thrown into watery waves. walking back to my territory, i drop on both knees, suddenly and face first i fall into the couches cushion. repeats: "take me out of here take me out of here take me out here." until my breaths gives up on playing dead, and my face is purple and red. I stand on wobbly knees, face feeling like a Southern summer day, I am thinking of you  and I move on. **
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Jul 30, 2013
Jul 30, 2013 at 7:05 PM UTC
a short telling
“Will you love the glimmer of dew that shines from the point of my shovel as I bury your body in the forest on the mainland?” He says as he demands that I terminate the only thing I know I’ve ever loved -forced abortion
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Mar 7, 2019
Mar 7, 2019 at 3:48 PM UTC
Life or death
Choose your words carefully, now Stick a coffee filter Between your mind and mouth Please try to control what comes out Hold your tongue Staple that muscle To the pinks of your gums Please just do it for my mom End the R-word Print it in a million books And watch the pages burn Put a stop to the harmful looks Terminate ******** It isn't a synonym for "absurd" It's not just a filler-word My cousin is not to be discarded If I could eliminate The word I hate I would cut the letters up And hide them away from the ones that I love Dispose of this nasty term Cut this expression down Watch this word infest with worms And let the death be the talk of the town
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May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 1:27 PM UTC
The Word I Hate
Coal dust + asbestos + Silicone pull J U G U L A R straighten larynx Plug my cord in. Run: digitized opalescent sky Terminate process heart exe. Cannot be found reboot reboot reboot sign up to facebook sign up to dumb luck sign up and sign off C:/prey C:/pray C:/pray that I don’t get swallowed by this machine that I don’t get swallowed by this 01101101 01100001 01100011 01101000 01101001 01101110 01100101
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Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 5:53 PM UTC
Deconstruct
She sits alone, mostly. Rolling within the rank sweat and smog filled room she calls her "home"   Black and white, black on black, white on white. Crisp and clean, yet muddied with her emotional tolls Gangly legs lay crissed and crossed into the apple sauce, folding in and bent at the knees   Her Raven hair is swept across the floor like a ***** mop left out to dry in the rotten sunshine (or so she calls it) Portraying the swayed emotions that she feels like a long black river of gnat buzzing irritation   "Stupid." she whispers in a mocking tone, head cocked to the side with a face filled with blankness        "Stupid Pretenders," she mutters in a voice as soft as the whispering ghosts, lost within the sounds of the dead Pretenders. That is what she calls them as they flit too and fro, ignorance and bliss surrounding the obvious facts   Floating in and out of her mind, she has memorized every single one of their faces, down to the last detail; Every last acne scarred face that tormented her while she was a "just a child", they billow down into her mind   The blank and fish glossed eyes never truly seeing, staring blankly ahead of them while they passed by, oblivious Like running brooks, and rays of light they ebb and intertwine into who she is (or who she thought she once was)   She enjoys pretending that she knows their stories, has lived their lives, all while she is glaring madly into lost space Having been swept astray, she descends deeper between lulling calls of the dead, mourning in sweet song for her fruitless life   They plead with her to sacrifice her existence, escorting peace into her tattered soul, to terminate her withdrawn pain Lending her the hand of the Black Rider who comes at dusk, singing a haunting lullaby to drag her down into the dawn
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Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 2:28 PM UTC
To Hold the Hand of the Rider
She sits alone, mostly. Rolling within the rank sweat and smog filled room she calls her "home"   Black and white, black on black, white on white. Crisp and clean, yet muddied with her emotional tolls Gangly legs lay crissed and crossed into the apple sauce, folding in and bent at the knees   Her Raven hair is swept across the floor like a ***** mop left out to dry in the rotten sunshine (or so she calls it) Portraying the swayed emotions that she feels like a long black river of gnat buzzing irritation   "Stupid." she whispers in a mocking tone, head cocked to the side with a face filled with blankness        "Stupid Pretenders," she mutters in a voice as soft as the whispering ghosts, lost within the sounds of the dead Pretenders. That is what she calls them as they flit too and fro, ignorance and bliss surrounding the obvious facts   Floating in and out of her mind, she has memorized every single one of their faces, down to the last detail; Every last acne scarred face that tormented her while she was a "just a child", they billow down into her mind   The blank and fish glossed eyes never truly seeing, staring blankly ahead of them while they passed by, oblivious Like running brooks, and rays of light they ebb and intertwine into who she is (or who she thought she once was)   She enjoys pretending that she knows their stories, has lived their lives, all while she is glaring madly into lost space Having been swept astray, she descends deeper between lulling calls of the dead, mourning in sweet song for her fruitless life   They plead with her to sacrifice her existence, escorting peace into her tattered soul, to terminate her withdrawn pain Lending her the hand of the Black Rider who comes at dusk, singing a haunting lullaby to drag her down into the dawn
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Save me from nothing I plead As I waste away my days Nothing has become my need When something gets in my way I turn around and walk back Walk back to where I began I’m scared of adversity He’s always on the attack Failure’s what he demands To be my identity Help, save me from this nothing It is consuming my life I promise I’m not bluffing It would make me feel contrite Please, save me from this horror Monotony’s got to me I want to divert this road Or bomb it with a mortar Because I just want to see My failures die alone Please, I just need to be saved I cannot seem to escape This road that’s already paved A path that won’t terminate A path that is like Ping-Pong Back and forth, and back and forth The only two steps I take Like singing the same **** song I am running out of worth When my whole life’s at stake I’m walking on a racetrack And life is racing past me Just constantly being lapped And I can’t seem to gain speed What else is there left to do? I need to find an answer But this test’s impossible It was made by a voodoo Who controls all the answers The key’s stuck in a lock hole This nothing-ness is scary There’s nowhere for me to go I’m asking you to spare me From this state of vertigo Staring at a map that’s blank North is south and south is north What is this supposed to mean I have nothing in my tank My future path has been scorched Fumes are all that I can see I don’t know how I got here I really wish that I did But I can’t seem to see clear Farewell is what I should bid This is rough, I can’t take it I would like to try, but why? Why try if I’ll only fail? Help save me from this abyss I just want to see the sky And maybe meet some angels If I had a direction Or a light brighten my path And show me my complexion I’d take without being asked But if I took some matches And soaked them in gasoline I couldn’t ignite a light Even on my dry patches So that obviously means My path will never be bright Nothing is what I’ve become It must be what I deserve From all the nothing I’ve done Failure’s the spot I reserved I don’t want to move forward My motive lacks passion Which gives me no where to go So I’ll just skip the torture Put my plan into action And receive nothing I’m owed.
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Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 1:37 PM UTC
An Ode to Nothing
Save me from nothing I plead As I waste away my days Nothing has become my need When something gets in my way I turn around and walk back Walk back to where I began I’m scared of adversity He’s always on the attack Failure’s what he demands To be my identity Help, save me from this nothing It is consuming my life I promise I’m not bluffing It would make me feel contrite Please, save me from this horror Monotony’s got to me I want to divert this road Or bomb it with a mortar Because I just want to see My failures die alone Please, I just need to be saved I cannot seem to escape This road that’s already paved A path that won’t terminate A path that is like Ping-Pong Back and forth, and back and forth The only two steps I take Like singing the same **** song I am running out of worth When my whole life’s at stake I’m walking on a racetrack And life is racing past me Just constantly being lapped And I can’t seem to gain speed What else is there left to do? I need to find an answer But this test’s impossible It was made by a voodoo Who controls all the answers The key’s stuck in a lock hole This nothing-ness is scary There’s nowhere for me to go I’m asking you to spare me From this state of vertigo Staring at a map that’s blank North is south and south is north What is this supposed to mean I have nothing in my tank My future path has been scorched Fumes are all that I can see I don’t know how I got here I really wish that I did But I can’t seem to see clear Farewell is what I should bid This is rough, I can’t take it I would like to try, but why? Why try if I’ll only fail? Help save me from this abyss I just want to see the sky And maybe meet some angels If I had a direction Or a light brighten my path And show me my complexion I’d take without being asked But if I took some matches And soaked them in gasoline I couldn’t ignite a light Even on my dry patches So that obviously means My path will never be bright Nothing is what I’ve become It must be what I deserve From all the nothing I’ve done Failure’s the spot I reserved I don’t want to move forward My motive lacks passion Which gives me no where to go So I’ll just skip the torture Put my plan into action And receive nothing I’m owed.
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Happiness is the seed left dormant within the darkness let it germinate... Disappointment is the **** which torments with sadness let it terminate..... Nurture the good thoughts good reads... Rupture the negative thoughts bad deeds.... Let the positivity flourish... Let's heal the anguish... Let's love the broken and give them light... Let's help the fallen and help in their fight...
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Jun 6, 2017
Jun 6, 2017 at 1:16 PM UTC
Good read