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"twix" poems
M&Ms; and 7up Hershey's bar Reese's Peanut Butter Cup Snickers and a drink of Mountain Dew There are three flavors of Charleston Chew Twix; Twin Bing Salted Nut Roll is king I really could eat them after / with anything Breakfast, lunch, dinner and in between I bought me a candy bar It was made with carmel nougat and cream I'm gonna eat it Oh yeah, my tummy will scream My little obsession It's a bit obscene There is no tummy ache that could come between SUGAR!!! And this chocolate fiend
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Jul 31, 2016
Jul 31, 2016 at 1:44 PM UTC
Addicted
**** My buddy My man The only time id eat a ginger bread man **** I huff and I puff And I blow nothing down There ain't nothin but a couch and some Doritos I could even knock down **** Couldn't hurt a fly But I might blow smoke in your eye **** So nice so fly Man I'm high as the sky **** Where am I? At the store craving some s'mores **** I like twix too Don't call me a Jew **** We all have fun We laugh But we're too high to run ****
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Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 10:49 PM UTC
Smoke
I love Orange Juice. I am honestly addicted. Breakfast, Lunch , and Dinner I'll enjoy this yellow liquid. I 'll even drink some while cleaning the dishes, mopping the floor, open my door, carry my self out and drink some more. You ever had Orange Juice and Chocolate !? Chocolate Chip cookies, Kit Kat, Hersey , Sneakers . Chocolate Cake, Fancy Chocolate , Chocolate *** Twix ! Any of this, fits the Chocolate and Orange Juice Fix. I love the Tropicana Florida Made Orange Juice. Is that what the Tropic's like? Is that what Florida like? The air and people give you a tang that at first is strange? But in the end you'll say "I am addicted to these things" ? I, love, Orange Juice.
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Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 3:42 PM UTC
Orange Juice Every Where
The Christmas rush has started, and the countdown has begun Advent doors are opened, but look what you have done You've ridiculed the Bounty bar, and your spoiling all the fun Why buy a Celebration, if your not happy after one ? What's behind the cardboard doors, what did you all expect A gold ring perhaps, or the keys for a corvette? Why bother with an advent, when you have no respect There's no need for chocolate genocide, or coconut neglect You shouldn't be so outraged, with your Christmas Celebrations I don't understand the malice, or the advent hesitations If you don't want a bounty, buy heroes or sensations It's hardly a matter for Interpol, or the united nations Celebrations are your choice, there's no cause for your regret The outcome is quite obvious, why are you so upset Are the pictures not a clue, to what your gonna get ? No rarity of Bounty hunters, so don't mess with Boba Fett Are Maltesers that much lighter, in a Galaxy far away Maybe you will find Mars, in between the Milky Way A Twix or Galaxy Caramel, they we're for a different day But you've dissed your celebrations, and no longer want to play Some YouTube clips have surfaced, and I have read the blogs I think it's just pathetic, seeing chocolate thrown down bogs Your creating your own misery, as well as yule time logs You won't be very happy, when your toilet blocks and clogs On day two you still complained, and you wanted to resist Is that because the chocolate, was not on your Christmas list Would you be pleased with mistletoe, if you never did get kissed Christmas spirit has been lost, with your Snickers in a twist Some people are just morons, that's the message that they've sent Their expectations are to high, and cruel jokes are never meant Why is Bounty not as good, to start of an event A Snickers in your calendar, doesn't mean a ruined advent
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Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 1:58 PM UTC
Advent hesitations with your Christmas Celebrations
The Christmas rush has started, and the countdown has begun Advent doors are opened, but look what you have done You've ridiculed the Bounty bar, and your spoiling all the fun Why buy a Celebration, if your not happy after one ? What's behind the cardboard doors, what did you all expect A gold ring perhaps, or the keys for a corvette? Why bother with an advent, when you have no respect There's no need for chocolate genocide, or coconut neglect You shouldn't be so outraged, with your Christmas Celebrations I don't understand the malice, or the advent hesitations If you don't want a bounty, buy heroes or sensations It's hardly a matter for Interpol, or the united nations Celebrations are your choice, there's no cause for your regret The outcome is quite obvious, why are you so upset Are the pictures not a clue, to what your gonna get ? No rarity of Bounty hunters, so don't mess with Boba Fett Are Maltesers that much lighter, in a Galaxy far away Maybe you will find Mars, in between the Milky Way A Twix or Galaxy Caramel, they we're for a different day But you've dissed your celebrations, and no longer want to play Some YouTube clips have surfaced, and I have read the blogs I think it's just pathetic, seeing chocolate thrown down bogs Your creating your own misery, as well as yule time logs You won't be very happy, when your toilet blocks and clogs On day two you still complained, and you wanted to resist Is that because the chocolate, was not on your Christmas list Would you be pleased with mistletoe, if you never did get kissed Christmas spirit has been lost, with your Snickers in a twist Some people are just morons, that's the message that they've sent Their expectations are to high, and cruel jokes are never meant Why is Bounty not as good, to start of an event A Snickers in your calendar, doesn't mean a ruined advent
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Betwixt the shrub and hubabubb 'neath bracken's shadowed scowl came a Wren pop-hopping when arrested by a yowl He spied another grovely bird chattering with the gloom realising it had been observed it screeked with spittled spume *Stay back, stay back alack, alack I've nothing left to give and should you shake the life from me unhappy you shall live* Like him the grovely had a one leg and too the veshy eye and when he flexed his deeker wings he knew this bird must die. The unctuous Wren popped back and forth as did the groveley bird and there they stood 'twix shrub and earth exchanging not a word. Just this once I'll let you go announced the cautious Wren he turned his fractious beak to blow and was never seen again.
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Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 11:29 AM UTC
Song of the cautious Wren
The old man sat somewhere twix bemused and bewildered, Staring out at the mist that lay upon the puse horizon of twilight. Horace, the brown and white dog with the shaggy coat, came and curled himself around his masters feet, The old mans hand fell upon the dogs faithful head, gently he stroked the dog, yet without sentiment, but rather with a sense of habit, formed by years of ritual. and so each day he sits and awaits the coming twilight. 21st December 2010
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Dec 25, 2010
Dec 25, 2010 at 3:35 AM UTC
Twilight
I've drank a thousand beers I've smoked a million cigarrettes I've ate at least a hundred Twix bars I've watched Breakfast at Tiffany's hours on end I've flirted with every male waiter that brings me unfulfilling dish after unfulfilling dish I've bought weekly **** dark outfits and I've spent my life savings on beautiful MAC make-up and a new Legacy and pumps I think you'd like I've gotten my hair colored every color I can think of I've tried being an apathetic punk, an upbeat cowgirl,   a wide-eyed polyanna, a harsh madonna, a fuck-you-feline, an emotionally charged marilyn, and a classy Diane I've memorized witty jokes, and roasts, and rivetting last lines I've modeled and sang and became an athlete I've played hard to get, I've played easy and teasy And I've twirled my hair and crossed my legs and learned to walk while swaying my hips I've ran miles and kilometers and meters and I've lifted weights and done zumba and yoga and hiked and biked and **** There's no comfort                                  and no          getting    to                                                            you.
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Oct 3, 2012
Oct 3, 2012 at 1:10 PM UTC
****
You're afternoon, my love, and I'm forenoon, and the twix between burrs our saddle. Eros, on your high steed, we beseech your Olympian authority to make mutual our latitudes so next when the clock strikes twelve our eyes, yours and mine, my love shall meet within that same hour, and there we'll dine upon the other.
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Jan 24, 2011
Jan 24, 2011 at 7:47 AM UTC
The twix between
A passion wrought from lover’s hands aglow To dash on rocks within a blazéd heart. Two lilies twix the shores are wrench’d apart Til winter’s face doth brim the line of snow. And such is us, my dear. My darling beau, Who sleeps on fragile dreams devoid of art: In thought, I catch you veiled across the mart; In likeness of the shadows oft you go. So long as tender mem’ries wither not My hands will not forget the shape of thee. Within my soul, I flutter with an ache From frightful visions that our hope is shot, But Calm doth bathe me in her past’ral sea. Your beauty lifts my spirits when I wake.
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Jul 7, 2012
Jul 7, 2012 at 6:03 PM UTC
Italian Sonnet For My Ex-Wife
This **** is hot bundled up in my bowels. Oh how it boils, how it makes me howl. Bran muffins and coffee, they do not mix. Stuck here in traffic, I need to drop these Twix. Oh how time drags on when you've got the runs. I need a hole in the earth to place my buns. I've held in these turds for so long, I was actually sad to see them go. Goodbye brown buddies. Just go.
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Oct 24, 2012
Oct 24, 2012 at 10:17 PM UTC
Fiber (#) Two
Sisters Twix From VooDoo they do Hail Into The Night They Came To Eat the Soul and Trail Their Names are Psychic Sisters For Marker I Now Post On Guard With Prayer Your Sacred How Your Passion is their Host
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Jun 10, 2016
Jun 10, 2016 at 7:19 AM UTC
Rosary
Happy Halloween Trick or treats at the front door, give them candy, but they want more. I put poison in their candy bar, razors in their apple will leave a scar. Tired of hearing, the ringing of my bell, all these **** kids can go to hell. Putting tacks in their Milky Way, don't they know candy causes tooth decay. Even with the lights off, they still knock, I hate every kid on this **** block. I give them lint from my dryer, their stupid costumes, I light on fire. I put pennies in their pillow case, some kids so ugly, don't need masks on face. I smile at their moms, standing on the sidewalk, all the hot ones, I can't help but gawk. When they say trick or treat, I make them lick my smelly feet. Putting pins in their Baby Ruth, no longer will they have a sweet tooth. Putting nails in their peanut butter Twix, I have a big bag filled with rotten tricks. I put Anthrax in their Snickers, on the Kit Kat i cover with chiggers. Three Musketeers are filled with staples, Butterfingers have splinters from wooden tables. Naughty kids get a bag of my **** from the toilet, that I often sit. Maybe next year they will learn, or I'll give them ashes from their parents urn. Sometimes I scare them and make them beg, their so scared, you can see *** running down their leg. I've even given left overs from the fridge, all the maggots make their bodies twitch. Next Halloween, if I'm not in jail, I will urinate in every candy pail.
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Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 8:17 PM UTC
Happy Halloween
Yesterday evening, As I was traveling, We hit the river styx. The bussers got to scattering, And a man made out of twigs Sat next to me with a swish. With teeth all a'chattering Through a stutter-ridden lisp, He blubbered and he spit As he asked me for a kiss. I said "that's quite flattering, But you smell like stagnant **** And I don't have any patience For this attempted tryst." With a devilish twist Of his knotted, wooden wrist, He handed me a Twix, And said "eat this piece of candy And I'll grant your every wish." I knew it would be handy When I packed some liquorice, And though he was too handsy, His promise seemed legit. I traded him my sweets And I ate his offered treat, Then I feel asleep as quick As a widow starts to weep. I must admit I was shocked To find myself a heap, A pile of trash Cast aside To be swept off of the street. Lesson learned, Ingrained deep: Never trust A timber creep You meet upon a bus, And never eat Offered sweets, Or else you will get mugged.
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Mar 1, 2013
Mar 1, 2013 at 8:30 PM UTC
-- Publicly Transit--
I broke up with her for good reason but now all I can really do is remember how good we were. I try so hard to remember her flaws and faults: how selfish and narcissistic she could be. how her loyalties were elsewhere. how I was never enough. but they don't compare when I remember: how she kissed me around strangers, and ran after my train every single time, just to be a goofball and show the world that I was hers. how she could make me feel better by just being there. I try my best to ignore her but even if I don’t see or talk to her for weeks she’s still in my mind, always, because I can find her in everything. I find her when I smell her perfume or see something from Nevada, when I eat Twix and ignore the word mhm and the colors blue and green. When I make mac n cheese and eat all of it. when I go to school and when I come home. and whenever I see a rose, especially if it's red. I don’t know how people can give someone so much of themselves and then have their heart broken. I gave her pieces of me that I can never get back and I don’t know how to continue being Sammy without those pieces.
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Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 6:02 PM UTC
the problem with loving
i think we all addicted prescriberd like lil sick kids depressed for only fitted new era for the news to get bull **** for the twisted mini van is two in front and get ****** took gin and juice but sniffed it glue shoved and huffed a bag no lunch asked to twix it or maybe captain crunch take a break chit chat with satan who offers a kit kat say please satan stand back demons with a stare notorious b i g glare my eyes riding spines backless lines one word lies as she gets shifted christmas feelings the only part not gifted reverons speaking one words up lifting g o d is a new prescription because our days they are so limited like edition section or fiction a book did not quite fit him becaue he was more interseted in women who taught pain and sour living taking faith that was not giving spread hate as if they sinnin then grinning blasphemy is the only one listening as to see every one living the way they sinnin eating the plates they skimming treating favors as dares to forbidden that is so insignificant of our innocent oh so delicate like a rebel or maybe a filiment that leading the path with light and a laugh the joker the midnight toker taught take the money and run you sure ******* cuss alot for a nun teach our children that *** is fun its weird how ignorant we all feel when its all said and done
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Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 12:54 AM UTC
i think we all addicted
The academy of hungry men opens for business only when the night draws in. The night is time for being thin, Cholesterol is fat and won't get in. I have a tin of boneless ham A rich man me, in the academy and where hungry men would hunger on, I'd eat the ham and then be gone. No fees to pay and words cost just enough to widen out the mouth, which then tightens up a belt to say, the academy is not a place to play. The gravy train left on the boat or so the hungry man in ragged coat informs me. Clever men in the academy not me, I'm just passing through and on the way to something new but the night drew in and so I took a pew and with a pewter spoon spooned up some watery stew, it's what they do and when, in the academy of hungry men.
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Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 2:48 AM UTC
Oliver twix
You're like a headache that doesn’t go away. When I try to erase you, you scream “No Way!” All I hear is your throbbing, All I feel is your pain. All your memories are burning a hole through my brain. when our eyes meet, I’m the first to turn my head. When I try to shake you off you only manage to spread. I’ve only managed to love you, and I think that ruined me. He was perfect, but my mind said, “If he’s not him we aren’t meant to be.” I know you hate me, everyone does. I just wish my love for you would fade away to fuzz. I don’t only taste blood sometimes I taste microwave burritos or Twix You ate yours with the cheese that always sticks But now they only make me sick when I start to chew. You wrestled your brother and let him win because he’s smaller than you. I can only blame myself because it's my fault you’re gone. I shouldn’t have been scared I should just held on. maybe then I’d have butterflies in my stomach, Not bees in my mind.
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Nov 21, 2015
Nov 21, 2015 at 10:16 PM UTC
The butterflies, and the bees
Fueled by arizona tea and a sugar rush that enables me to work to a higher standard. Enabling me to live my life with a smooth taste of chocolate in my mouth and only thoughts of you in my mind. Comparing our relationship to a twix I am the chocolate and you are the caramel mixing together perfectly creating something so unique it can will not be compared. Thinking of the beauty of it all the beauty of you and me
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Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 4:56 PM UTC
Sugar Rush
I have known pain In every form All too well My box of memories is filled to the rim with moments so vivid That if I close my eyes I can almost taste the blood between my teeth Pain has been Someone I have turned to When emotion has defeated feeling Sometimes just a pinch of the skin To remind myself That I am real That this Is real Pain is an alarm clock ringing Begging us to wake up In a world full of dreamers Who just cant seem to face reality Without pain Without the sandpaper glued to our palms Life would slip right through our fingers Pain is attached to every year of my life Marking the moments that mattered most From ages where seconds of happiness seem blurred And mostly pain is remembered Age 4 Chin shattering against the kitchen floor Skin and bone to hardwood When a game of horsey with my older brother Goes too far Stiches sewing me back into place I can still taste the melted twix bar that I was given For being such a good patient Age 7 Scrapes from falling off the bicycle Were enough to get me to stop trying Needless to say I never learned how Age 12 Words thrown at me like razor blades in the school cafeteria Hurt enough for me To use them against myself In fits of aching rage My body refuses to let me forget Age 15 Watching my father Sick from chemotherapy Hunched over in agony Hair falling to the ground like the ashes of cancer victims Watching him suffer Hurt more than any broken bone Than Any paper cut Scratch to the surface The worst kind of pain I've learned Is the kind that can not be erased from memory With a rub to the eyes Is the kind where You are forced to watch Loved ones Experience it Without being able to help Or do anything to ease their discomfort The worst kind of pain Is being witness Is being bystander Pain is more than a bully Pain is a backstabbing neighbor Who pulls a gun to your head just when you think you've got it right Is a ghost A physical form that fades But remains forever alive in memory In the faces of people you've hurt In the scars of skin that forces you to remember what happened What happened Does not define you But the thing about pain Is that whether or not you want it to It shapes you.
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Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 4:02 AM UTC
Pain
I have known pain In every form All too well My box of memories is filled to the rim with moments so vivid That if I close my eyes I can almost taste the blood between my teeth Pain has been Someone I have turned to When emotion has defeated feeling Sometimes just a pinch of the skin To remind myself That I am real That this Is real Pain is an alarm clock ringing Begging us to wake up In a world full of dreamers Who just cant seem to face reality Without pain Without the sandpaper glued to our palms Life would slip right through our fingers Pain is attached to every year of my life Marking the moments that mattered most From ages where seconds of happiness seem blurred And mostly pain is remembered Age 4 Chin shattering against the kitchen floor Skin and bone to hardwood When a game of horsey with my older brother Goes too far Stiches sewing me back into place I can still taste the melted twix bar that I was given For being such a good patient Age 7 Scrapes from falling off the bicycle Were enough to get me to stop trying Needless to say I never learned how Age 12 Words thrown at me like razor blades in the school cafeteria Hurt enough for me To use them against myself In fits of aching rage My body refuses to let me forget Age 15 Watching my father Sick from chemotherapy Hunched over in agony Hair falling to the ground like the ashes of cancer victims Watching him suffer Hurt more than any broken bone Than Any paper cut Scratch to the surface The worst kind of pain I've learned Is the kind that can not be erased from memory With a rub to the eyes Is the kind where You are forced to watch Loved ones Experience it Without being able to help Or do anything to ease their discomfort The worst kind of pain Is being witness Is being bystander Pain is more than a bully Pain is a backstabbing neighbor Who pulls a gun to your head just when you think you've got it right Is a ghost A physical form that fades But remains forever alive in memory In the faces of people you've hurt In the scars of skin that forces you to remember what happened What happened Does not define you But the thing about pain Is that whether or not you want it to It shapes you.
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I was cold and unforgiving when you threw yourself at me, You gave me everything you had and I said it couldn't be. I took everything you gave me and laughed straight in your face, You couldn't be the chosen one, someone has to take second place. When everything was gone you solemnly sulked away, but- you'll be back again tomorrow because we do this everyday. Your break will come around and you'll just want a twix, but I'll only take your money-for I'm a vending machine and I know all the tricks.
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Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 9:03 PM UTC
Stress
The thrill of it nicking a Twix from the corner shop, a lunchbreak one day in the mid-nineties looking inconspicuous between the chocolate and packs of smoky bacon crisps. Sam pilfered a Snickers, a Wispa, we dashed outside, ran back to school, couldn’t believe it, looking at our stolen goodies, not a splash of guilt alive in our minds.
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Oct 15, 2016
Oct 15, 2016 at 2:51 PM UTC
Stealing
Hi Dad, I don’t know if you can read Facebook posts in heaven. I hope you can. Or can feel this on a spiritual level or something like that. It’s your birthday tomorrow. You are or would be 60. I’m not sure how it works once you’ve passed on. I love you. I know I didn’t say it enough. But I love you so much. And I miss you. Happy birthday. I want to call and leave a voicemail singing to you. Or you pick up and I sing to you. I hope you’re eating something awesome in heaven to celebrate. Like our favorite linguini with clam sauce, or some spicy wings or a juicy cheeseburger, perhaps some authentic Chicago Giordano’s deep dish pizza. I miss you a lot. I miss your dad jokes. I miss when I was little and you would comfort me. I miss when I was sick at school and you would come pick me up and we would walk somewhere and get really good snacks and Twix ice cream bars and go to the park because I wasn’t really sick....I just knew you were off and I wanted to spend time with you. I took everything for granted and I’m so sorry. Happy birthday. If you knew my father you know he was the funniest man in the whole room and his laugh, just like mine, was so contagious. His smile, it lit a place up. I hope you are proud of me. I am trying really hard to be better than I have been. I hope you visit me in my dreams. I hope you’re celebrating. I just hope you don’t feel pain. I love you. Happy birthday dad. -“Face”
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Oct 26, 2019
Oct 26, 2019 at 11:49 PM UTC
Happy Birthday
and as i tap on my keyboard making noises unspeakable i notice that somewhere between the Y and the I is a U, and I wonder why apple would set up such a cliché a metaphor I would want to use in times like this where my writing is vulnerable and uncouth i can’t even be angry with you, against you pressing on your V line since i knew the movie was bad i mean i just knew it as soon as the VCR ****** in the thick, boxy, tape that this film was going to be just like the others— immature and messy, you were unable to articulate the simplest of my sentences insert line here you didn’t even look new, you weren't even an opportunity you told me you were willing to be the elevated beam in my single music note that we would create harmonies even my mother would like to hear but she hated you and you didn’t understand why I liked Bach more than Mozart, or why I didn’t like Mozart at all you weren't a gentleman, but I am beginning to think those don't exist until well into our 30s when our hearts are tender enough to feel empathy you don’t deserve a poem, or the image of heaven the capital letters you rained in my text messages made my eyes open a little bit wider i went to cvs and i bought the twix the blanket and the ***** we used to do that together asian men still write me poems for the morning, i walk out of dorm rooms with water that never knew the cold and my head it; pounds from dehydration, its been a while since I’ve been in love but some us are in love i mean the dumb ones, the despicable ones how are they achieving something the kids with 4.0 gpa’s couldn't make an equation for insert lines here and why the hell do i keep looking at my phone, waiting for your name to shine bright telling me what to do what to say insert lines here why did you sleep with her, on her, side by side, parallel making hexagons and trapezoids keeping me out of the loop why did i say ok
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Apr 9, 2017
Apr 9, 2017 at 8:00 PM UTC
On You
and as i tap on my keyboard making noises unspeakable i notice that somewhere between the Y and the I is a U, and I wonder why apple would set up such a cliché a metaphor I would want to use in times like this where my writing is vulnerable and uncouth i can’t even be angry with you, against you pressing on your V line since i knew the movie was bad i mean i just knew it as soon as the VCR ****** in the thick, boxy, tape that this film was going to be just like the others— immature and messy, you were unable to articulate the simplest of my sentences insert line here you didn’t even look new, you weren't even an opportunity you told me you were willing to be the elevated beam in my single music note that we would create harmonies even my mother would like to hear but she hated you and you didn’t understand why I liked Bach more than Mozart, or why I didn’t like Mozart at all you weren't a gentleman, but I am beginning to think those don't exist until well into our 30s when our hearts are tender enough to feel empathy you don’t deserve a poem, or the image of heaven the capital letters you rained in my text messages made my eyes open a little bit wider i went to cvs and i bought the twix the blanket and the ***** we used to do that together asian men still write me poems for the morning, i walk out of dorm rooms with water that never knew the cold and my head it; pounds from dehydration, its been a while since I’ve been in love but some us are in love i mean the dumb ones, the despicable ones how are they achieving something the kids with 4.0 gpa’s couldn't make an equation for insert lines here and why the hell do i keep looking at my phone, waiting for your name to shine bright telling me what to do what to say insert lines here why did you sleep with her, on her, side by side, parallel making hexagons and trapezoids keeping me out of the loop why did i say ok
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