[A] is for
An
Archer with
An
Arrow through his
Adams
Apple, very
Applicable, to the
Ample
Amounts of
Amiable
Attitude,
Adorning his heart, in
After
Action
Attributes, that impart, the
Admiration, of
*******, in this
Acting out of
Arrogance bit. he is,
Astute, in his
Allure, and
Aloof, in the
Air, of
Aspiration, in which, he was
Alienated in the
Agony, of
Asking
Assassins, the
Aforementioned. lights, camera,
Action. recipe of the
Ancient
Admirals of
Avian
Aliens, that
Attacked, with the
Arms and fists, of
Arachnids, now
Aching to be
Activated in sudden
Allegiance to the
Answers, of the truth.
Accumulating wealth for
Anarchy's of
Abating
Angels in
Atrophied,
Alchemical
Academies of the ever
After life .. . of silence.
****** strengthens in these
Accolades of violence, in
Alliance to
Appliances
Appearing in the
Arson of
Apathy, happily, to
Anguish in the
Amputation of my
Abdomen, if it meant i'm a real
American, even, when, only
Ash, remains.
Acclimating in its remains
Attained, the
Articles of my pain, in
Affluent shame, next time ..
Aim... oak
[A]?

[B] is for the
Bah of
Black sheep, and
Big
Bit¢hes, fat cats,
Bombarded in the
Blasted,
Bastion of
Blackened
Benevolent
Blokes,
Berating the
Blasphemous,
Be-seech, of
Brains, to feel
Bad, about the
Blotching of
Binary codes, erroding, the
Blanked out
Books, of
Belittled
Bureaucrats,
Bowling
Back the
Bank rolls of
Betterment, from the
Back of the
Blackened
Bus, as i'm
Busting guts, in the
Bubbling
Butts, of *****
Benched, but
Beautiful, in the
Battle, in the
Bane, of existence.
Baffled, in the strain of
Belligerence, in
Beating the
Beaming
Butchery into
Billy's
Broken
Brains, in
Bouts, of
Battering
Bobby's for
Bags of
*******
Before, affording to
Build
Bombs, is just
Beyond
Breaking
Beer
Bottles on the
*******
Benefactors of
Boulder
Bashing with the
Beaks, of
Birds, with no
Bees. just a
Being, trying to
[B]


[C] is for the
*****
Courting the
Choreography, in
Computerized
Curtains,
Circumventing the
Cultured,
Contrivance of
Chromatic
Cellars,
Calibrating, to the
Contours of
Calamities,
Celebrating the
Cyclical,
Cylinders of
Cyphered
Calenders,
Correcting the
Calculations, of
Crooks
Coughing, in
Courageous
Coffins of
Canadians,
Collecting
Cobble stones, from
Catacombs, in the lands of the
Conquered,
Capturing the
Claps of thieves, sneaky
Cats, of greed. its
Comedy. oh
Comely, to my
Cling of
Cleanliness, and for your self
[C]

[D] is for the
Dip *****, as they
Delve
Deeper in the
Deliverance, of
Deviant
Deities,
Dying to
Demand
Dinner
Delivered in the throws of
Death,
Deceiving
Defiance of
Darkened
Dreams,
Demeaning that which
Deems the
Dormant of the
Dominant, to be
Demons of
Deviled
Devilry,
Dooming us for
Destruction.
Deploy the,
Damsels in
Duress.
Defiled and
Distressed,
Detestable and
Dead. in the thump of
Drums,
Dumbing down the
Debts of,
Dire regrets.
Dissect the
Daisies of,
Disillusion, in the current
Days,
Diluting night into
Dawn,
Disconnecting the
Dots of the
Dichotomy, and arming me, in the
Diabolatry, of,
Demonology, as i watch me
Dwindle away, the
[D]

[E] is for
Everything in nothing,
Eating the
Euphoric
Enigmas of
Enlightened
Elitists,
Exceeding in the
Extravagant
Essence of
Esoteric
Euphemisms,
Escaping the
Elegance of the
Elements in the
Eccentricity of
Eclectic
Ecstasy,
Exhaling, the
Exostential blessings, of inner
Entities, and renouncing the
Enemies of my
Ease,
Easily to appease
Extraterestrial
Empires,
Extracting the lost
Embers of
Enlightenment, in
Excited delight, but to later
Entice, the fight, and
Escape, like a thief into the night of
Everywhere,
Entering the
Exits of
Elevators leading no where, to
Elevate, this useless place,
Encased in malware in the
Errant
Errors of
Every man,
Enslaved, of flesh and
Entrails,
Enveloping the core of
Everything, that matters,
Enduring, the chatter, of
Evermore,
Ever present in
Everybody
Ever made to take
[E]

Funk the
Ferocity of
Foolish
Fandangos, with
Fanged
Fanatics,
Fooled in the
Fiasco of
Fumbled
Fantasies,
Falling through the
Farms of
Freely
Found
Fans,
Flying in the
Fame of
Fortune.
Fornicating on the
Fallen
Fears of
Fat
Fish getting their
Fillet of
Fills.
Feel me in the
Frills

Granted with
Generosity.
Giblets of
Gratitude and
Greed,
Greeting the
Goop and
Gobbled
Gore,
Gleaned from the
Glamour of
Ghouls in
Gillie suits,
Getting what they
Got
Going, in the
Gratuitous
Gallows of a
Game
Gaffed by
Giants.

Hello to the
Horizon of
Hellish
Hilarity, in
Hope of
Happy, to
Heave from
Heifers, to
Help the
Hemp
Harshened
Hobos in
Heightened
Horror, to
Honor the
Habitats of
Hapless
Habituals,
Herbalising the work
Horse, named
Have Not, in the
Haughtily
Hardened
Houses of
Happenstance.

Ignore the
Ignorant
Idiots, too
Illiterate to
Indicate the
Indicative
Instances of
Idiom in the
Irrelevant
Inaccuracy of
I,
In the
Intellect of
Idle
Individuals,
Irritated with the
Irate
Illusion of
Idols
Illustrated upon the
Iris,
In the
Illumination of
I.

******* the
Jobless
Jokers, and
Jimmy the
Jerkins from their
Jammie's, in
Justified,
Jousting off the
Jumps, in
Jokes, and
Jukes of
Just
Jailers,
Jesting for
Jammed
Jury's to
****
Judgment from the
Jitter
Juiced
Jeans of
Jesus.

**** the
Keep of
Khaki-ed
Kool aid men,
Kept in the
Kilometers of
Kits,
Kin-less
Kinetics,
Knifing the
Knights of
Kneeling
Kinsmanship,
Keeling over the
Keys of
Kaine, with the
Karmic
Karate
Kick of a
Kangaroo.

Love the
Levity, in the
Luxurious
Laments of
Loveliness,
Lovingly
Levitating in
Level,
Lucidly.
Living in
Laps, of
Lapses,
Looping, but
Lacking the
Loom of the
Latches
Locked with
Leeches of the
Lonely
Lit
Leering of
Lightly
Limbs, that
Lash at the
Lessers in
Loot of
Lost letters,
Lest we
Learned in the
Lessons of
Liars.

Marooned in
Maniacal
Masterpieces,
Masqueraded as
Malignant
Memorization's of
Motionless
Mantras, but
Merrily
Masking
Mikha'el the
Mundane, who is
Musically
Mused of
Monsters,
Mangling the
Monitor, but
Maybe just a
Moniker of
Marauders.

Never to
Navigate the
Nautical
Nether of
Never
Nears.
Not to
Nit pic the
Naivety of
Nicety.
Notions
Neither take
Note
Nor
Name the
Noise of
Nats in the
Nights of
Neanderthals
Napping in the
Nets of
Ninjas

Ominous in the
Obvious
Omnipotence of
Oblivious
Obligatory
Opulence,
Of
Other
Oddly
Orchards
Of
Offices,
Ordaining
Orifices in
Offers of
Ordinary
Ordinances in
Option-less
Optics,
Optionally an
On-call Oracle, in
Optimal,
Overture.

Perusing the
Pestilent
Pedestals of
Personal,
Parameters,
Pursuing the
Petty
Plumes of
Piety with the
Patience of a
Pharaoh,
******* on the
People with the
Penal
Pianos of
Port-less
Portals, in the
Paperless
Points in the
Palpal
Pats of
Pettiness.
Poor, but
Prideful.

Quick to
Qualify the
Quitter for a
Quick
Quill in
Queer
Quivering of
Quickened
Questioning,
Queried in the
Quakiest of
Quandaries.
Quarantined to a
Quadrant, of
Quagmires.
Questing the
Quizzing of
Quotable
Quartets.

Relax in the
Relapse of
Realizations, and
React with
Racks of
Rolling
Rock to
Rate the
Rep of the
Rain-less.
Roar in
Rapturous
Rendering of the
Random
Readiness in the
Ravenous,
Rallying, of the
Retinal
Refracting of
Reality.
Realigning, the
Righteous
Rearing of the
Realm, and
Retrying.

Steer the
Serenity in
Sustainability, and
Slither through the
Seams of
Slumbered
Scenes.
Secrete the
Solo
Sobriety of
Sapped
Sassys,
Salivating upon a
Slew of
Stupidity,
Steadily
Supplied in
Stream,
Suitably
Slain in the
Steam of
Sanity.
Sadly, i
Still
Seem,
Salvagable.

Topple
The
Titans in
Tightened
Terror.
Torn
Territories
Turn
Turbulent in
The
Teething of
Totality.
The
Telemetry of
Time,
Tortured of
Torrent
Theories,
Told in
Turrets of
Transpiring
Terribleness, from
Tumultuous
Tikes unto
Teens,
Trading
Toys for
Tea.
Thrice
Thrusted upon by the
Tyranny of
Tanks.

Unanimous is the
Ugliness in the
Undertones of
Undreamed
Ulteriors
Undergoing the
Unclean in the
***** of
Utterly
Upset
Users,
Uplifting the
Unfitting
Ushers in
Underwear-less,
Ulcers,
Undergoing the
Ultra of
Uberness.

Venial in
Vindictive
Viciousness of
Vindicated
Venom,
Venomously
Vilifying the
Vials of
Villainy in the
Veins of
Vampires,
Validity of
Valuable
Violence, is
Valiant in the
Vaporous
Vacationing of
Vagrant
Vices.

Why
Whelp in the
Weather
When you can
Wave to the
Whirling
Wisps,
Whipping Where the
Whimsical Were
Way back in the
Wellness of
Whip its,
Wrangling my
World,
With
Waterless
Worms, as
War shouts are
Wasted in the
Wackiest
Walks of
Waking
Wonder.

Xenophobic
Xenogogue, of
Xenomorphic
Xeons, turn
Xyphoid, in the
Xenomenia of my
X, my
Xenolalia of
X, to
***. im lost in the
Xenobiotic zen of
Xerces, on a
Xebec to the
X on the map.
Xenogenesis, in the
Xesturgy of my
Xyston
Xd

Yelling
Yearned from
Yelping.
Yard
Yachts
Yielding, to the
Yodel of
Yeah
Yeahs, to the
Yapping of
******
Yuppie
Yoga
Yanks, over
Yonder.
Yucking it up with the
Yawn of a
Yocal.

Zapped from a
Zone i
Zoomed with
Zeal in the
Zig and
Zag of my
Zapping
Zimming
Zest, upon a
Zombie-less
Zeplin.
Zealot,
Zionist, or
Zoologists,
Zeros or ones, just
Zip your
Zip locked. and
Zzzzz
Zzzz
Zzz
Zz
Z
Zero

There was once a famous painter who, to express his love for a woman, cut his own ear off and sent it to her. We all know the story. Even I, a pretty eccentric and extreme person myself, thinks that's way too extreme. but hey, nothing says I Love You like a ****** chunk of cartage stuffed in an envelope right?

A couple days ago you told me to do something that scares the **** out of me, at least once everyday. No, I didn't cut my ear off or anything like that. lol. but that night I sat and thought about things that frighten me but to no avail. I wouldn't say I'm fearless, but I'm a person who enjoys taking risks and prides himself on surviving the most horrific experiences. There aren't many things in this world that rattle me. I'm not superstitious, I have no interest in what others think about me, and pain is only temporary. Well, Physical pain. Pain of a more emotional variety can last. Years even. An intangible, constricting weight of question. A couple thousand needles of "What if?". A potent venom of repeating "I wish". The things that spread your eyelids apart in the middle of the night. When you tell your body "No." When you squeeze your pillow and mumble to your own thoughts "No, don't you dare wander to that place." When you plead with yourself to forget.

Nights like this are the reason why I find it hard to write you, the nights where I don't sleep, can't sleep until I write you and even though most times I don't send the messages, (Or they get sent to you accidently baha) I'm gonna send this one to you. Because it scares the **** out of me.

Starting is the hardest part. It's been probably forty five minutes since I've started the occasional ritual of tossing my bed covers aside and pacing around my room tenderly as if I'm scanning the ground for the words I need, as if I could just pick them right up and hand them to you. However, I always find nothing. I skip every other step on the way down to the computer and sit gingerly in my lame floral chair, watching my cursor blink against your empty message box. It speaks to me. "Blink type something ****** Blink." After a few minutes of typing and erasing and typing and erasing I thought "This is stupid." Then I remembered the story about the painter. It made me think. People have always done stupid things for love. Sure, I'd be embarrassed and vulnerable and possibly even having you meet me with a spine shattering "sigh", "This is getting old." or even have "What is the ****** point?" hammering my morning thoughts. But Hey, At least I'm not mutilating myself.

Well. I tend to beat around the bush a lot, but at this rate I'm just stepping on the twigs. Dancing on the torn leaves and such. I'll stop. I have some things I want to tell you.

I won't let my guilt stop me from saying what I want to say this time as I've done many times in the the past. I think that's what holds me back, the guilt? Whatever.. I mean you're over it, I should be too. I know you're over me too, but that won't stop me either. Des, I miss you. I miss your voice. The medicine in your laugh, the discipline in your scowl. The way that we'd talk all through the night till one of us unked it. The several stones that would plop in my stomach when I would get a text from 'Desire Deslonchamps', Your french *** name (It's so **** btw) I miss the armada of butterflies roosting on my ribs whenever you'd tell me you adored me. I miss our conversations, you have always reached higher than anyone else I have ever talked to intellectually and I mean that quite literally. it baffles me how no matter who else I was with, they were never good enough. That I was always comparing them to you, and thinking "Des wouldn't have said that." or "Des would have loved this more." No one is as funny or talkative or as tender or as wild as you. I would stuff every single one of those girls in a shredder just for even 5 minutes with you.

I look through your pictures all the time, I feel like a teenager sifting dreamily through a magazine looking at some chiseled, oiled up celebrity that doesn't even know she exists. I read everything you post, I worry when you seem sad, I laugh when you laugh. Everytime Facebook tells me you've uploaded and new picture I always go look and end up sighing like a ***** maiden. Excuse the metaphor but it's true. haha.

A couple days ago, when you were telling me about your ex, for a second I kind of thought you were talking about me... and I got so excited, I really thought that you still felt for me and that maybe I hadn't completely lost it and that you weren't jaded or whatever, but when you showed me what you actually did write him, and everything and... ugghh, I just felt so stupid. Sososososo stupid. I don't know why... and I know you still really like him and everything, but I just want to let you know that the level of emotion and personal attention I have for you is strong and consistent. I'm not saying that no one will ever feel for you as strongly as I do, But I'm saying that it'd be pretty **** hard to top it. I just want to let you know that this will never go away. I have tried everything short of a lobotomy but I can't ever, and will never forget about you. I know how foolish it is, but there is no way I could ever help it. Humanity help me, it's literally impossible to knock, like that crazy romance **** You see in movies. It's unreal.

Desiree I think about you more than I think about Sableyes and Adoring fans and Acid trips and soft melodies. All of the things I daydream about. Whenever I daydream, I always add on the wishful thought of someday sharing whatever I'm dreaming about with you, or just sharing me with you. I laugh hysterically in my head at the thought of ever being what I once was to you again, a laugh developed by my pride to stifle my cries and soak up my tears before they ever surface. No, I'm not sad all the time, just when the thinking reaches a fever pitch. Sad isn't the word, more like frustrated. You know me better than anyone on this planet, seriously, You know that I have problems communicating my feelings properly. Most of the thinking is me trying to put words together for you. Though I usually don't come up with anything until I actually do write you, There's always been one thing that I've wanted to tell you that I could never form an appropriate form for and even saying it now would do it an injustice because I can't make these words jump off of the screen and wrap it's arms securely around waist, or whisper quietly in your ear or emulate the disparity of them properly, it's all I got. This xenomorphic phrase.

Physical pain may be temporary, but I'm still too much of a ***** to cut off my own ear, So these words, They're all I have left. The only thing that I can give to you with every bit of a human heart and genuine honesty I have...

Desiree Deslongchamps,

I love you.

An aching agonizing anguish

Breathlessly breaks bonds

Coldly constantly cracks

Dread's distant deathlike deeds

Eerily everlastingly endlessly

Float flying frostily

Growing greedy

Hauntingly horrific

Immensely insane

Just joylessly jailed

Killing kindlessness

Lying lovelessly losing life

Missing my misfit mourning mind

Now nowhere near new naturality

Over old objects or obsessions

Priceless piercing pain

Quiet quarrels

Rusting rage restless reaped rationalizations

Silent scary severed soul's sorrowful secrets sink sadly sighing softly

Tasteless tears torn trust

Unknown unloved unforgiving

Veiled vying vacant vengeance

Worse wild wordless wispy white worried winding whispers

Xenomorphic

Yesterdays

Zero zoetic zest


Please comment I love to read other people's interpretations of my work :)

Some say it's Sensational,
Emotion driven,
And even that it's Xenomorphic.

Causing people to want more,
And allows them to deepen the well they use for love.

'Til it is taken.

Causing people to fear it,
And avoid the touch of another.

Since to them it's Savage,
Exspelling,
And Xericed the well they use for love.

Awesome,
Breaking,
Crashing,
Deafening,
Engulfing,
Flood,
Gallopi­ng Horses,
Insanely Jettisoning,
Killer Landslide,
Maniacally Nebulous Outpourings,
Perceptively Quizzical Rhetoric,
Slumbering Truth Under Veils,
Willfully Xenomorphic Yokeless Zen

Amazing
Beautiful
Cravings
Desire
Ecstacy
Fantasies
Glistening
He­arts
I
Juxtapose
Knowing
Love
Missing
Now
Only
Passions
Quench
Ra­ging
Souls
Teasingly
Utter
Verbomanias
With
Xenomorphic
Yearning
­Zealousness