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"walked" poems
Death told her            her life should end and he was her friend Calmly, she stole my gun      she walked outside in the sun pulled the trigger, set the mood barrel to her head to conclude I saw her head come undone ,,, Reached down, for my gun Eyed the chunks in her hair Now to my head |                              |I draw a rose there.
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Oct 4, 2011
Oct 4, 2011 at 9:42 PM UTC
Rolkan (Suicide)
Clothes have outgrown me many times over, but this sadness never does. One size. fits all. There should have been an obituary for cancer,  not you. Wishing these slits within my skin could have been replaced by a reality check from you, “You chose to exist.” My name causes a sigh to escape from lips, that do not feel like they belong to me, the girl, whose words always had to be special. The schematics of hospitals like a birthmark in my brain, born into sadness, a gut feeling as a child. Never trusting time due to what it delivers. Death, being the only thing I desired. But you,  who I love, endlessly- robbed by it. Whose ebb for life glowed so feverishly. Stopped comparing depression to lace, restricted the belief that suicide is poetic, seeing things as they were. More often than not, applauded for feeling emotions deeply. Every second that dies, the shift of my heart quakes. This world is not tender. II. Sad. I have known the flowers I wanted at my own premature funeral, knowing how many bouquets honored you that day. split open my veins like a dimension reminiscent of days where I anticipated deathbeds. My family wondered, can we make it through another day? Death scares me for what it has taken, yet, I’m not afraid to die- it’s all I deserve. So I await the day pain erupts from my throat, acknowledging the days a soul lived inside of my body- footprints that walked, belonging to me. But I learned so well. How to suffer with a smile, dreading the beating of my heart how unfair— I don’t want to take these deep breaths You deserved,while I masquerade as a member of the undead Never outgrowing the desire to rot with the phantoms residing under my bed. III. Jokes played by the universe. punchlines delivered, how could anyone to stand to be in the same room as myself? How could anyone look over skyscrapers and sunsets, and not be infatuated with concrete consuming them? How I shared a sigh of relief during the thought- of knowing people would thrive without me, or the power of a belly laugh, resembling a laugh track audience drowning out 3 AM suicidal thoughts.
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Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 11:23 PM UTC
Writing Suicide Notes In Gel Pen
Clothes have outgrown me many times over, but this sadness never does. One size. fits all. There should have been an obituary for cancer,  not you. Wishing these slits within my skin could have been replaced by a reality check from you, “You chose to exist.” My name causes a sigh to escape from lips, that do not feel like they belong to me, the girl, whose words always had to be special. The schematics of hospitals like a birthmark in my brain, born into sadness, a gut feeling as a child. Never trusting time due to what it delivers. Death, being the only thing I desired. But you,  who I love, endlessly- robbed by it. Whose ebb for life glowed so feverishly. Stopped comparing depression to lace, restricted the belief that suicide is poetic, seeing things as they were. More often than not, applauded for feeling emotions deeply. Every second that dies, the shift of my heart quakes. This world is not tender. II. Sad. I have known the flowers I wanted at my own premature funeral, knowing how many bouquets honored you that day. split open my veins like a dimension reminiscent of days where I anticipated deathbeds. My family wondered, can we make it through another day? Death scares me for what it has taken, yet, I’m not afraid to die- it’s all I deserve. So I await the day pain erupts from my throat, acknowledging the days a soul lived inside of my body- footprints that walked, belonging to me. But I learned so well. How to suffer with a smile, dreading the beating of my heart how unfair— I don’t want to take these deep breaths You deserved,while I masquerade as a member of the undead Never outgrowing the desire to rot with the phantoms residing under my bed. III. Jokes played by the universe. punchlines delivered, how could anyone to stand to be in the same room as myself? How could anyone look over skyscrapers and sunsets, and not be infatuated with concrete consuming them? How I shared a sigh of relief during the thought- of knowing people would thrive without me, or the power of a belly laugh, resembling a laugh track audience drowning out 3 AM suicidal thoughts.
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60
When I met you You took my breath away In retrospect I should have just walked away And started breathing again
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Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 3:07 AM UTC
Out of breath
I walked among a garden green, well paved and split by beams of fence posts new and densely lacquered, This garden that man has gently shattered. Far in I found small office blocks, amid the green were charging docks, and soon did I sit down and sigh at tender faces -- eager for wi-fi. The fauna made for a lovely sight as joggers came and passed it by, their music playing on phones strapped tight, the moment was waste and so I cry, For what life did lose to technology.
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Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 7:50 PM UTC
Technology park
It's never quite right, he said, the way people look, the way the music sounds, the way the words are written. It's never quite right, he said, all the things we are taught, all the loves we chase, all the deaths we die, all the lives we live, they are never quite right, they are hardly close to right, these lives we live one after the other, piled there as history, the waste of the species, the crushing of the light and the way, it's not quite right, it's hardly right at all he said. don't I know it? I answered. I walked away from the mirror. it was morning, it was afternoon, it was night nothing changed it was locked in place. something flashed, something broke, something remained. I walked down the stairway and into it.
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57.7k
Cut While Shaving
All these wild thoughts beautifully inspired by you. The way you looked at me when you walked away, got me feelin some type of way. The way you wear those jeans, got me wishin you would put me on. The way you smilin, if you're an angel, then there is something wrong. got my thoughts wildin, vibes getting strong, The way you lookin, I know you feel the bond. Got my attention, the way you move those hips now you really turning it on. Your body language speaking loud and clear It wasn’t a mistake, destiny is got us here now let me take you there. The vibes will never disappear. Thoughts wildin with your lips in my ear. I want to take you now and, right here. I'll take you anywhere. Time is precious so lets not waste it here.
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Jul 18, 2017
Jul 18, 2017 at 11:01 PM UTC
Thoughts Wildin
Who will cry for the little boy? Lost and all alone. Who will cry for the little boy? Abandoned without his own? Who will cry for the little boy? He cried himself to sleep. Who will cry for the little boy? He never had for keeps. Who will cry for the little boy? He walked the burning sand Who will cry for the little boy? The boy inside the man. Who will cry for the little boy? Who knows well hurt and pain Who will cry for the little boy? He died again and again. Who will cry for the little boy? A good boy he tried to be Who will cry for the little boy? Who cries inside of me
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Apr 27, 2017
Apr 27, 2017 at 12:29 AM UTC
Antwone Fisher
I live in a forest of fallen sunflowers, old and wise, they speak to me of the days gone by When the sun sets among the wilderness blaze, they tell me night is befalling, and I must make my departure They tell of decades ago, how they’ve watched as humans lived their lives, most rotten in nature They spoke of the one that used to tend to them, how gracious and kind, how pure and warm For the sunflowers spoke with melancholy, for they knew that their former caretaker was well gone So for a moment they wept their tears of seeds, and sung soft melodies of their former caretaker They spoke to me and warned of the evils of humanity, how they were too once the victim of the evil They asked why humans destroyed what’s beautiful around them, why they wish to sabotage what keeps them breathing But they spoke to me and said I was a rare human, one that had good intention, and a sensitive heart As night began to fall, I left the forest of sunflowers, carrying their tearful seeds To spread as I walked away, to maybe rejoice and create life once more The forest I hope will remain tomorrow, that it stands the test of time
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May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 2:46 PM UTC
The Forest of Sunflowers
When I cannot look at your face I look at your feet. Your feet of arched bone, your hard little feet. I know that they support you, and that your sweet weight rises upon them. Your waist and your ******* the doubled purple of your ******* the sockets of your eyes that have just flown away, your wide fruit mouth, your red tresses, my little tower. But I love your feet only because they walked upon the earth and upon the wind and upon the waters, until they found me.
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42.9k
Your Feet
I can see the light of Dawn The everlasting darkness fading Cold leaving my bones And the warmth of hope filling them again Though the stars have lit our way As we walked down this path Nothing is greater than seeing the Sun
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May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 5:37 PM UTC
Sunrise
You have the right to love and be loved as well. The right to, not just break but, shatter from your shell. Run free, run proud sing to me and sing it loud. Slacks and dresses spinning and twirling, backs and arms bending and curling. Dance like the puppets do not seeing the strings touching you. *please puppet master loosen your grip please god let his hand slip* Listen to me love theres no need for the begging and the pleeding, theres no reason for the weeping and the bleeding. Never stray from whats true in your heart and like a soft candle light, it will guide you through the dark. Now I've spoke with your master it's not such a disaster, he told me with no laughter, "No one will ever out last her." But the grey sky above has killed my sense of love and with so much to talk about but nothing left to say, I bit my tongue and just walked away.
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Sep 17, 2011
Sep 17, 2011 at 10:46 PM UTC
Puppet Show
My father walked me down the aisle, But my mother held my arm. He went with me, But we went not towards the altar, But towards the door. My father walked me down the aisle, And the ***** rang through the church, Humming through the elaborate crown molding, Carved by my ancestors. He went, Not beside me, But before me, And I watched, As he was illuminated by the bright, Overbearing, Texas sun. My father walked me down the aisle, But I did not wear white. My father walked me in silence, And I shed tears not for a man standing at the altar, But for the one I would never see again. My father walked me down the aisle, And no veil obscured my face. All eyes were upon me, but not for my pristine beauty, Instead for my clenched jaw and furrowed brow, Severe and fierce to distract from my glassy eyes. My father did not leave me at the end of our walk to sit beside my mother. She clung to me for support and sobbed breathlessly, Loudly, Unavoidably, And I carried her with one hand, My sister the other, And walked towards my future. A future family, Not one person more, But one person less. I walked, One final time, With him. My father walked me down the aisle, And I will never forget it. Hundreds of eyes isolating my family from the crowd, Slow and muffled sounds drowning in the deafening beat of my heart, Blurred faces staring, Black heels clacking against the cobbled path from the church, The anguished wails of my mother, The whimpering of my sister, And the wooden box that glided before us, Pulling, A string tied to our patriarch, The pin key of our family, Pulled taut and then snipped with the slam of the hearse doors. My father walked me down the aisle, Before I had a chance to grow up. He walked me, Out of the church, Away from the altar, Never to be walked again.
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Feb 27, 2018
Feb 27, 2018 at 5:17 PM UTC
My Father Walked Me
My father walked me down the aisle, But my mother held my arm. He went with me, But we went not towards the altar, But towards the door. My father walked me down the aisle, And the ***** rang through the church, Humming through the elaborate crown molding, Carved by my ancestors. He went, Not beside me, But before me, And I watched, As he was illuminated by the bright, Overbearing, Texas sun. My father walked me down the aisle, But I did not wear white. My father walked me in silence, And I shed tears not for a man standing at the altar, But for the one I would never see again. My father walked me down the aisle, And no veil obscured my face. All eyes were upon me, but not for my pristine beauty, Instead for my clenched jaw and furrowed brow, Severe and fierce to distract from my glassy eyes. My father did not leave me at the end of our walk to sit beside my mother. She clung to me for support and sobbed breathlessly, Loudly, Unavoidably, And I carried her with one hand, My sister the other, And walked towards my future. A future family, Not one person more, But one person less. I walked, One final time, With him. My father walked me down the aisle, And I will never forget it. Hundreds of eyes isolating my family from the crowd, Slow and muffled sounds drowning in the deafening beat of my heart, Blurred faces staring, Black heels clacking against the cobbled path from the church, The anguished wails of my mother, The whimpering of my sister, And the wooden box that glided before us, Pulling, A string tied to our patriarch, The pin key of our family, Pulled taut and then snipped with the slam of the hearse doors. My father walked me down the aisle, Before I had a chance to grow up. He walked me, Out of the church, Away from the altar, Never to be walked again.
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58
The road seen, then not seen, the hillside hiding then revealing the way you should take, the road dropping away from you as if leaving you to walk on thin air, then catching you, holding you up, when you thought you would fall, and the way forward always in the end the way that you came, the way that you followed, the way that carried you into your future, that brought you to this place, no matter that it sometimes took your promise from you, no matter that it always had to break your heart along the way, the sense of having walked from far inside yourself out into the revelation, to have risked yourself for something that seemed to stand both inside you and far beyond you, that called you back in the end to the only road you could follow, walking as you did, in your rags of love and speaking in the voice that by night, became a prayer for safe arrival… by: David Whyte excerpt from SANTIAGO
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Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 8:05 PM UTC
Santiago - by David Whyte
In crowds of shade, In the place near the start. There is only one face. And she said with her last ounces of blood dripping from her face, with the last gasps of air she will ever know… “There is a moon, there is a sun, and there are the stars. You were the moon among stars, I was the sun chasing you around the world.” The words poured out like my tears as I held her closer turning her chin so I can stare into her fading eyes... “I may have been with all those stars, but they’re all the same. They burn out fast, so it won’t last. You were the star of stars, and I was chasing you around the world.” I watched the glow from her face leave as it walked off with my sanity. I pulled her in closer, tightly, with all my might. I was hoping I would be able to hold her so tight that she would become apart of me.
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Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 4:56 PM UTC
Star of Stars
he drank wine all night of the 28th, and he kept thinking of her: the way she walked and talked and loved the way she told him things that seemed true but were not, and he knew the color of each of her dresses and her shoes-he knew the stock and curve of each heel as well as the leg shaped by it. and she was out again and whe he came home,and she'd come back with that special stink again, and she did she came in at 3 a.m in the morning filthy like a dung eating swine and he took out a butchers knife and she screamed backing into the roominghouse wall still pretty somehow in spite of love's reek and he finished the glass of wine. that yellow dress his favorite and she screamed again. and he took up the knife and unhooked his belt and tore away the cloth before her and cut off his ***** and carried them in his hands like apricots and flushed them down the toilet bowl and she kept screaming as the room became red GOD O GOD! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? and he sat there holding 3 towels between his legs no caring now wether she lft or stayed wore yellow or green or anything at all. and one hand holding and one hand lifting he poured another wine
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32.1k
Freedom
A friend of mine walked up to me and asked me: "What is a good woman?" I replied "you would know if you were a good man" He said "Stop joking I really wanna know" "There is no definite answer, but when you meet one, it will show" There are many characteristics that make a good woman, but it would take days to speak them all Since my friend brought this to mind, I thought I would list a few for y'all A woman who is proud of what she brings and won't complain over petty things A woman who is well spoken and not opposed to listening because communication is key from the beginning A woman who is wise and able to realize the pit you are in doesn't matter because she will help your rise A woman who wouldn't try to control her man but also wouldn't be a doormat And when trouble comes up, her feet won't be flat (she's ready to go) A woman who never stops believing in the man that you are and the man you can become So much confidence in you, it almost makes her seem dumb A virtuous woman who prays for you more than she prays for herself Remembering God is number one above all else A woman who tries to pay for herself before you can offer Knowing the difference between selfless and selfish is something you should prefer A woman with the power of forgiveness But don't abuse it Because a good woman is not stupid She will lose it You will lose her and have no one to blame when your heart takes the hit If you hurt a good woman, in my eyes, you aren't worth the saliva I spit The ice cream no one would lick The one that gets thrown down in hope ants would leave a picnic To pick apart your existence Use your common sense Realize what's in front of you and cherish it Woman is the title a female receives at a certain age But it takes a good man to realize a good woman is on the next page I'm not saying a good woman needs to have this quote for quote I don't think any woman does, if so, let me know I haven't met any besides my family, but I don't go down that road I'm being patient, waiting for my good woman is giving me time to grow So I can give her the best Brandon Everett Davis, the world doesn't know To not be on their level, would be a sin Let's become better men for these good women
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Dec 22, 2012
Dec 22, 2012 at 3:37 AM UTC
A Good Woman
A friend of mine walked up to me and asked me: "What is a good woman?" I replied "you would know if you were a good man" He said "Stop joking I really wanna know" "There is no definite answer, but when you meet one, it will show" There are many characteristics that make a good woman, but it would take days to speak them all Since my friend brought this to mind, I thought I would list a few for y'all A woman who is proud of what she brings and won't complain over petty things A woman who is well spoken and not opposed to listening because communication is key from the beginning A woman who is wise and able to realize the pit you are in doesn't matter because she will help your rise A woman who wouldn't try to control her man but also wouldn't be a doormat And when trouble comes up, her feet won't be flat (she's ready to go) A woman who never stops believing in the man that you are and the man you can become So much confidence in you, it almost makes her seem dumb A virtuous woman who prays for you more than she prays for herself Remembering God is number one above all else A woman who tries to pay for herself before you can offer Knowing the difference between selfless and selfish is something you should prefer A woman with the power of forgiveness But don't abuse it Because a good woman is not stupid She will lose it You will lose her and have no one to blame when your heart takes the hit If you hurt a good woman, in my eyes, you aren't worth the saliva I spit The ice cream no one would lick The one that gets thrown down in hope ants would leave a picnic To pick apart your existence Use your common sense Realize what's in front of you and cherish it Woman is the title a female receives at a certain age But it takes a good man to realize a good woman is on the next page I'm not saying a good woman needs to have this quote for quote I don't think any woman does, if so, let me know I haven't met any besides my family, but I don't go down that road I'm being patient, waiting for my good woman is giving me time to grow So I can give her the best Brandon Everett Davis, the world doesn't know To not be on their level, would be a sin Let's become better men for these good women
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40
I like to play horror games Amnesia was the first one I played The monsters were scary The envoirement was eerie But if I'd call the monster Steven Instead of scared I'd be merry Steven was such a funny guy He looked funny He walked weirdly Nothing of him would terrify The only time he'd scare me was when I'd open the door Sometimes the jumpscare would make me fall to the floor Many years I have played these games Even though I was scared, in the end I'd be okay That was until I stood next to my brother He was not yet in his grave This experience was like no other It crashed on me like a giant wave I'd never seen him lay so still It was hard but I wanted to try Though I knew it could only go downhill I wanted to touch his hand one last time I lowered my body and reached out my hand I was pretty sure he would scare me right then & there But my brother didnt move, not even a hair And I realized at that moment how much I wanted that jumpscare
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Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 11:03 PM UTC
Jumpscare
"i'm watching you, stupid ***** Madison pointed at pyper as the girls made there way out of the dining room. "thats enough madison." Cordelia scolded. Nan followed pyper up the stairs into her bedroom. "why are you following me?" pyper asked, looking at nan in disgust. rolling her eyes and shaking her head. "you have madisons money." nan crossed her arms and smiled. "excuse me??" pyper replied as if she were offended by Nans accusation. "mhm, and you have zoeys sunglasses.., cassies ipod, and 25 dollars you stole from emilys purse. along with her art pencils." nan replied. "wow, you're A cleptomaniac." Nan laughed. "okay, how do you know all of this???" Pyper asked, her cheeks red from embarissment, and her head lowered in shame. "i'm psychic. i can read minds." nan explained. suddenly cassie walked past pypers room in search of her stolen ipod. "has anyone seen my pink ipod???" Cassie questioned, it was sitting on my bed, and now i can't find it anywhere. " she looked around hopelessly. "well then look in your room cassie. give me 5 minutes and i'll help you look." pyper shouted. "wow, you're a real piece of work arent you?" nan rolled her eyes and chuckled. "what is your angle, nan?" Pyper questioned, rolling her eyes aswell. saying names name as if she were mocking the whole idea of her. "my angle, PYPER. is this, you give everyone there **** back or i'm telling cordelia and you're out of here." Nan smerked. "you're not going to tell on me anyway?" pyper asked sadly. "no, not onless you do it again." nan sighed, "we stick together here, we're a family, we don't steele eachother down thats not what we're about." nan explained sympatheticly. "wow, thats funny because that's all my real family ever did." pyper replied with big sad puppy dog eyes. nan nodded, "i'm not here to listen to your ******** excuses or your sob stories. if saying that you've had a hard life, and never had anything given to you. and the world owes you. helps you get to sleep at night then fine, cool beans. but i'm not buying that shit. and these girls don't owe you anything. now, i expect everyone to have there **** back by the morning, or i will tell cordelia." nan sighed and rolled her eyes. "okay." pyper nodded with a wounded look upon her face. Cassie stood outside of the door, still listening. her eyebrows raised in anger. and then made her way up the stairs and into madisons room. "what are you doing here pipsquick. im NOT in the mood." Madison sobbed. "oh i think you're in the mood for this, i know who took your money." Cassie smiled.
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Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 3:40 PM UTC
america horror story:coven fan fic part 5
"i'm watching you, stupid ***** Madison pointed at pyper as the girls made there way out of the dining room. "thats enough madison." Cordelia scolded. Nan followed pyper up the stairs into her bedroom. "why are you following me?" pyper asked, looking at nan in disgust. rolling her eyes and shaking her head. "you have madisons money." nan crossed her arms and smiled. "excuse me??" pyper replied as if she were offended by Nans accusation. "mhm, and you have zoeys sunglasses.., cassies ipod, and 25 dollars you stole from emilys purse. along with her art pencils." nan replied. "wow, you're A cleptomaniac." Nan laughed. "okay, how do you know all of this???" Pyper asked, her cheeks red from embarissment, and her head lowered in shame. "i'm psychic. i can read minds." nan explained. suddenly cassie walked past pypers room in search of her stolen ipod. "has anyone seen my pink ipod???" Cassie questioned, it was sitting on my bed, and now i can't find it anywhere. " she looked around hopelessly. "well then look in your room cassie. give me 5 minutes and i'll help you look." pyper shouted. "wow, you're a real piece of work arent you?" nan rolled her eyes and chuckled. "what is your angle, nan?" Pyper questioned, rolling her eyes aswell. saying names name as if she were mocking the whole idea of her. "my angle, PYPER. is this, you give everyone there **** back or i'm telling cordelia and you're out of here." Nan smerked. "you're not going to tell on me anyway?" pyper asked sadly. "no, not onless you do it again." nan sighed, "we stick together here, we're a family, we don't steele eachother down thats not what we're about." nan explained sympatheticly. "wow, thats funny because that's all my real family ever did." pyper replied with big sad puppy dog eyes. nan nodded, "i'm not here to listen to your ******** excuses or your sob stories. if saying that you've had a hard life, and never had anything given to you. and the world owes you. helps you get to sleep at night then fine, cool beans. but i'm not buying that shit. and these girls don't owe you anything. now, i expect everyone to have there **** back by the morning, or i will tell cordelia." nan sighed and rolled her eyes. "okay." pyper nodded with a wounded look upon her face. Cassie stood outside of the door, still listening. her eyebrows raised in anger. and then made her way up the stairs and into madisons room. "what are you doing here pipsquick. im NOT in the mood." Madison sobbed. "oh i think you're in the mood for this, i know who took your money." Cassie smiled.
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1
We all want to Support stopping racism, because we sent black and white men to die in war together, before we could be educated together, The end gender inequality, Because women can't where cloths, and feel safe, walking down a street alone, with out feeling were going to get ***** Same or different *** relationships, Because the way you love your significant other, wouldn't be the same if they changed there gender to the other? Transgender rights, Because there a man everywhere else but in there pants, And men don't get cervical cancers, So yes legally changing my gender won't help me if i need a treatment only a lady would get, and this goes vice a versa, But I shouldn't have to worry about any other pains, except the possibility of one in my unwanted **** **** victims, including males, Yes you, Feminist views, Please just Stop over looking, Men go though it too. And we all may know men may be the main cause, Women have just as much play, No human, Wants an unwanted Violation, to come into any contact with them so personally, See all these things, we want to stop, and they need to, but, When u last walked down the street, what stranger did your Arrogant eyes peek? they saw someone, and you though they were, too fat, too small, too tall, a **** needs to button up, he used to pop pills, now he cant pay his bills, and there's so many I'm leaving out, like what they thought about you, so you see, each of these little groups, we just pass each other on the street, even when we didn't even meet, it's human nature, our natural order, to insult each other, some just get the really blunt edge. maybe we should change how we think and act, before we go wishing for things out of our knack's.
0
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 10:04 PM UTC
Change is not a possibility, its only a dream.
We all want to Support stopping racism, because we sent black and white men to die in war together, before we could be educated together, The end gender inequality, Because women can't where cloths, and feel safe, walking down a street alone, with out feeling were going to get ***** Same or different *** relationships, Because the way you love your significant other, wouldn't be the same if they changed there gender to the other? Transgender rights, Because there a man everywhere else but in there pants, And men don't get cervical cancers, So yes legally changing my gender won't help me if i need a treatment only a lady would get, and this goes vice a versa, But I shouldn't have to worry about any other pains, except the possibility of one in my unwanted **** **** victims, including males, Yes you, Feminist views, Please just Stop over looking, Men go though it too. And we all may know men may be the main cause, Women have just as much play, No human, Wants an unwanted Violation, to come into any contact with them so personally, See all these things, we want to stop, and they need to, but, When u last walked down the street, what stranger did your Arrogant eyes peek? they saw someone, and you though they were, too fat, too small, too tall, a **** needs to button up, he used to pop pills, now he cant pay his bills, and there's so many I'm leaving out, like what they thought about you, so you see, each of these little groups, we just pass each other on the street, even when we didn't even meet, it's human nature, our natural order, to insult each other, some just get the really blunt edge. maybe we should change how we think and act, before we go wishing for things out of our knack's.
Continue reading...
57
Awakening will find me through the daily mundane faith's step in front of tiny step for the sake of Christ's great name Even David the brave did not set out with a lofty ambition to see the giant slain but walked forth instead with a servant's heart obediently for his father, carrying cheese and grain and as he went in faithfulness about this simple errand God raised him up with sling and stone to champion His fame
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Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 2:52 PM UTC
Daily Mundane
Uncertainty fills the air And suddenly I'm not so sure. Nostalgia begins to decay But why? Heavy, heavier... I inhale and sigh with, what, exasperation? Creation? These are all mere distractions To prevent myself from colliding With myself, With how I feel. Emotional trauma, Part I - Coming soon to a childhood near you! We laugh it off But it does not leave us. Nothing can leave us As easily as you walked away That night. I will not forget what I saw. Engraved in my brain Causing me to crumble Tumble, tumble... Crash.
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Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 12:06 PM UTC
Crash
I broke up with McDonalds On Valentine's day People said she was no good for me I had to get away So I told her, It's not you, It's just a phase I'm going through But as we all know - Dumping fast food is not a pleasant thing to do. So I broke up with McDonalds, didn't see her for a while Was doing pretty well - there was the occasional drunk-dial When I walked up to the window And I slipped into the queue - But then I came back to my senses And realised the thing to do... Was to keep on walking Keep on walking Right past her Ignore the temptation To suckle On those golden arches Ignore those bed-like burgers And those oh-so-easy fries Divide our shared world up And sever all ties! Yes! I broke up with McDonalds and my life is better for it When my girlfriend serves up rabbit food I simply adore it I was scared of life alone with no kebab to walk me home But...       What I once spent on burgers...                                                      I now spend on...                                                                                  Haribo! Oh Haribo! Haribo!   You are a fruit tree in a sack And although it feels wrong to see you Behind my girlfriend's back She can not be hurt by wrongs she does not know! No - the new love of my life is Haribo, oh Haribo! But then one evening after work My girfriend came home early. Caught me curled up on the couch   Soaking up her girly   DVDs In front of me A bowl of Not nuts, nor seeds... But fizzy, yes fizzy, Cola bottles   That were   FIZZY! How could you do this? My girlfriend screamed at me. Cannot you see the damage that they do-eth to your teeth? (She'd been reading Shakespeare) No, my eyes are on my face, I can't see in my mouth. Right, she said, If you think I'm joking then I'm going to kick you out. So she kicked me out the flat and that was that she said. Not quite... I grabbed my stash of Haribo from underneath the bed. I told her all the things about her that I really hated And the moral is: Relationships with things that you can't eat are over-rated.
0
Feb 20, 2011
Feb 20, 2011 at 2:52 PM UTC
McDonalds
I broke up with McDonalds On Valentine's day People said she was no good for me I had to get away So I told her, It's not you, It's just a phase I'm going through But as we all know - Dumping fast food is not a pleasant thing to do. So I broke up with McDonalds, didn't see her for a while Was doing pretty well - there was the occasional drunk-dial When I walked up to the window And I slipped into the queue - But then I came back to my senses And realised the thing to do... Was to keep on walking Keep on walking Right past her Ignore the temptation To suckle On those golden arches Ignore those bed-like burgers And those oh-so-easy fries Divide our shared world up And sever all ties! Yes! I broke up with McDonalds and my life is better for it When my girlfriend serves up rabbit food I simply adore it I was scared of life alone with no kebab to walk me home But...       What I once spent on burgers...                                                      I now spend on...                                                                                  Haribo! Oh Haribo! Haribo!   You are a fruit tree in a sack And although it feels wrong to see you Behind my girlfriend's back She can not be hurt by wrongs she does not know! No - the new love of my life is Haribo, oh Haribo! But then one evening after work My girfriend came home early. Caught me curled up on the couch   Soaking up her girly   DVDs In front of me A bowl of Not nuts, nor seeds... But fizzy, yes fizzy, Cola bottles   That were   FIZZY! How could you do this? My girlfriend screamed at me. Cannot you see the damage that they do-eth to your teeth? (She'd been reading Shakespeare) No, my eyes are on my face, I can't see in my mouth. Right, she said, If you think I'm joking then I'm going to kick you out. So she kicked me out the flat and that was that she said. Not quite... I grabbed my stash of Haribo from underneath the bed. I told her all the things about her that I really hated And the moral is: Relationships with things that you can't eat are over-rated.
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61
have you ever believed in something so blindly so genuinely that the moment you realize it isn't true, something inside you changes forever? i wanna tell you a story, see seldom do i ever go swimming in drinks deep enough to drown in but when i do i speak in tongues about things that none of my memories are allowed to talk about like that christmas at the isthmus where my girlfriend plucked a conch shell whiter than gods teeth out of the sand held it to her ear and stopped time that day she was a shade of blue the could've made the ocean sick see, she loved to play jokes when she held the sea shell to her ear she gasped, called my name and said "i want you to hear this" i said "yeah, right, everybody knows it's just the same old sea" she replied "no. not this one. this one is special. listen. theres music in this one" she handed me the shell like a promise she couldn't keep and i held it to my ear with all the potential of seeing shore after being stranded at sea for years only to hear a tired dirge of silence spill from its emptiness i guess she didn't know how desperately i wanted to hear it too because ever since something inside me snapped now sand pours out of every post card i open i hear seagulls in telephone static sometimes i have dreams where i bury my hands in every beach i've ever been on and exhume this graveyard of noise every time i try to sleep i spit up fishhooks and i guess i'm obsessed but maybe if i hold my ear to enough vacant things then i could have back the time stolen from me since it happened maybe they would get it if they knew what i wanted when i blow out birthday candles maybe they'll find me face down in a wishing well i watch eternal sunshine of the spotless mind every day pretending i can forget too because this sea sickness has followed me for years because yesterday i walked into a music shop and all the pianos broke but the only thing i can think to say is *do you know how bad a memory has to be that you fantasize about forgetting it?*
0
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 1:03 PM UTC
measure
have you ever believed in something so blindly so genuinely that the moment you realize it isn't true, something inside you changes forever? i wanna tell you a story, see seldom do i ever go swimming in drinks deep enough to drown in but when i do i speak in tongues about things that none of my memories are allowed to talk about like that christmas at the isthmus where my girlfriend plucked a conch shell whiter than gods teeth out of the sand held it to her ear and stopped time that day she was a shade of blue the could've made the ocean sick see, she loved to play jokes when she held the sea shell to her ear she gasped, called my name and said "i want you to hear this" i said "yeah, right, everybody knows it's just the same old sea" she replied "no. not this one. this one is special. listen. theres music in this one" she handed me the shell like a promise she couldn't keep and i held it to my ear with all the potential of seeing shore after being stranded at sea for years only to hear a tired dirge of silence spill from its emptiness i guess she didn't know how desperately i wanted to hear it too because ever since something inside me snapped now sand pours out of every post card i open i hear seagulls in telephone static sometimes i have dreams where i bury my hands in every beach i've ever been on and exhume this graveyard of noise every time i try to sleep i spit up fishhooks and i guess i'm obsessed but maybe if i hold my ear to enough vacant things then i could have back the time stolen from me since it happened maybe they would get it if they knew what i wanted when i blow out birthday candles maybe they'll find me face down in a wishing well i watch eternal sunshine of the spotless mind every day pretending i can forget too because this sea sickness has followed me for years because yesterday i walked into a music shop and all the pianos broke but the only thing i can think to say is *do you know how bad a memory has to be that you fantasize about forgetting it?*
Continue reading...
84
I never knew what beauty was until I saw him With every imperfection, With every stumble, and with every stutter, My heart knocks hard inside my chest Trying to escape Hoping to be captured by his warm, calloused fingers. And you don't even know who I am That day you bumped into me I dropped all my books You helped me pick them up And I got to look into your eyes They were a lovely color Not even Picasso could recreate And you still don't even know who I am We bumped into one another again at a party You slurred apologies and "excuse me's" And I laughed it off Trying to Ignore the fact that your hand was creeping on my waist Your fingertips igniting sparks in my skin You held your deep gaze with your Picasso-colored eyes And dragged me into a room tripping over nothing I thought you finally knew who I was The next day at school you bumped into me again You had dropped my phone This time you didn't pick it up And you walked away without a second glance or apology And you still don't even know who I am
0
Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 3:20 AM UTC
Beauty