"wrods" poems
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turely wulod wnat to witre ye a ncie peom
but i cnnaot seem to get tehse wrods rghit
ye see all my letrets are so mxied up
resmelbin' excat wath be on my mnid
tho smeowehre i hvae hared taht wehn ineded
the fisrt 'n' the lsat lteter rhgilty palced
one salhl be albe to msaetr 'n' raed
wrdos rhgit in the eaxct crorcet odrer
ye see i srue am not taht wreid at all
tho at laset not mroe tahn any one can
wahtveer uopn to, or waht we slahl
jsut nveer be of toshe rdaey to ban
wihcveer ye siltl do not udnrtaensd
do not be of tsohe be jgudin' the man
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..lvoe alawys...
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عرفان بن يوسف © AH 04/03/1439
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Nov 24, 2017
Nov 24, 2017 at 9:11 AM UTC
**She stirs her coffee
He** m u m b l e s,
*stomach gRumBLes*
wrods fmblue**
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 5:45 PM UTC
“Just write,” they told me. And I did.
My smooth cursive running over
each ****** page.
I wrote run-on sentences
without any punctuation that ran on for days without
a single breath of air and when I finished
I spleled wrods wrnog
and didn’t even try to fix them.
Then I began to write about you,
and no matter how hard I tried to stop,
the words flowed out of me
like they were meant to be on paper all along.
I wrote of the time you dragged me to your beach house
on Long Island
even though I was sick and miserable.
You lay in bed with me all weekend until finally
I made it out to the beach.
I went home sicker and redder than I had been before.
But you loved me anyway.
I wrote of the time when we tried to drive across the country,
but we got bored somewhere around Harrisburg.
Aunt Jay’s Pancake House made the trip worthwhile.
I can still taste your buttery pancakes and
my gooey French toast on my lips.
I wish we could go back there just one more time.
I wrote of the day you said goodbye-
the first time that is.
I didn’t get out of bed for three weeks,
you know,
wondering why you even called to see if I was ok.
When I finally pulled myself up and out
of the stuffy, black room
I was surprised the sun was still rising
and the world was continuing on without
us.
I wrote of the day you said goodbye-
the second time.
You didn’t call this time
or write
or give one sign that you were hurting so badly.
I could have fixed you.
I could have loved your pain away.
“Just write,” they told me, “And all of your pain will disappear.”
They don’t understand, though.
I’m not worried about my pain.
I want to go back and write away yours.
Jul 25, 2011
Jul 25, 2011 at 8:26 PM UTC
Dear Dear,
I am writing to informe you about YOU
You has broken the heart of ME,again
You has lied,and lied over and over,again
Even YOU has promised to not do such thing,again
But remarkable YOU has broke the promises,again
We dont understand why the ME forgive the YOU,again
We cant even imagine how the ME can convince forgiving the You,again and ******* again and again and ******* ******* again;but the Me did.
So,after log talks with the Me.we decided and he,to make a remarkable effort togethe just to say these few wrods;
Fuck you,m not forgiving yu anymore
You will be forgforgoten ,moved on on be sure
Goodbye you freaking *****
Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 4:36 PM UTC
What I am.
A filthy mess
Ugly
Rude
Aries
Transgender
Acne and anxiety
RIDDEN
accident
PRONE
.
W!!!O!!!R!!!T!!!H!!!L!!!E!!!S!!!SS!!!
SPECIAL SKILLS:
jumping a rope 3 times
Forgetting my pills
Mispelilng wrods
What I am not
(THE OPPOSITE OF WHAT I AM)
Clean (NOT !!! ADDICTED !!!)
handsome
Kind hearted
Libra
NATURAL !!! BORN !!! MALE !!!
MENTALLY STABLE
SPELING BEE CHAMPEEON
MUSCULAR
LADYKILLER
POPULARGOODLOOKINGBEAUTIFULLOVEDLOVEDLOVEDIAMNOTLOVEDBYMYMYSELF,PEERS,ORFAMILY.
SPECIAL ******* SKILLS
GETTING MYSELF BEAT UP EX.) BEINGSELFDISTRUCTIVE//NOTLEAVINGMYABUSIVEFUCKINGRELATIONSHIP//NOTKEEPINGMYFUCKINGMOUTHSHUT
CONSTANTLY TRYING TO **** MYSELF WHEN IM AFRAID OF DYING
EATING LIKE A ******* PIG
DEAR GOD, DO I EAT. I EAT///EAT///EAT///
IM A FAT PIG-WHORE WHO CANT EVEN WRAP HIS FINGERS AROUND HIS ANKLES OR SEE HIS BONES, HIS VINES OF IVORY SHIMMERING IN THE MOONLIGHT, NOT BEING ABLE TO STRUM MY DELICATE RIBS LIKE A HARP
I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///I///WANT///TO///BE///SKINNY///
but oh well i guess.
j
Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 12:46 AM UTC
A POETS INNER VOICE
NEEDS TO BE HEARD
EVERY STROKE OF OUR PEN
EVERY CHOSEN CHERISHED WORD
EVERY FEELING WE FEEL
EVERY BEAT OF OUR HEART
EVERY THOUGHT WE POSSESS
MAY OUR WORDS NEVER PART
EVERY MEMORY WE HAVE HAD
EVERY LOSS IN OUR LIFE
EVERY MOMENT OF GLORY
EVEN WHEN WE ARE IN STRIFE
FOR A POETS JOURNEY IS A HARD ONE
THIS I CAN SUPPORT INDEED
BECAUSE WE CHOOSE OUR WRODS
SO OTHERS MAY READ
THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR COMMENTS
ON MY WORK SO FAR.
Nov 10, 2017
Nov 10, 2017 at 3:16 PM UTC