"zipped" poems
Far and near
they are two stars
rose in the same orbit.
One shows up is a
dazzling shimmering sun.
One is so polished fine
as if the zenith is
zipped in zero bytes.
No grave can grasp
it in the end.
It has no end, no size
zero left to demise.
An ocean is no more
now is only a drop.
Now the ocean
is in a drop.
Still on the ground
walking the walk
but those giant feet
do not show up!
Can we hear it bending
the ear on the ground?
The orbits on the go
with the sun on the top
pile into the vibration within
only to float up a notch
then bends down once more.
Nov 8, 2017
Nov 8, 2017 at 10:03 PM UTC
I've loved many boys
With different colored eyes
But the way I remember them is
By the shape of their hands
The way their thumbs curved
Or how their palms felt against my own
The weight of them on my thighs
Or how they ran through my hair
The times they zipped up my dress
And settled on my shoulders
The moments when they grazed my own
As they handed me my keys
The motion of them as they spoke
And the motionless of them when they were silent
The smoothness of them in the beginning
And the calluses after time had passed
Sometimes, I forget the faces of these boys
Or the way their voice sounded over the phone
But I'll never forget the way it felt
With their hands intertwined in my own
Jun 23, 2018
Jun 23, 2018 at 11:45 PM UTC
Your eyes are my *******
Your kiss leaves me breathless.
Your fingers are my toys.
I submit my body and my heart
For your abuse or adoration.
With you the red bag stays zipped.
Don’t you dare give me a blindfold
Don’t you dare gag my mouth
Don’t put leathers between us.
Only one thing does it for me.
Call it a fetish or call it love.
I just want you.
Feb 3, 2018
Feb 3, 2018 at 1:17 PM UTC
*** *** *** ba-dum da-dum]
The Cuck walked up to the cocktail stand
and he said to the man running the stand...
"HEY!" *** *** *** "Got any *****
The man said "Go away you filthy perv."
"Cocktails is all I've ever served!"
"Why don't you take a hike?"
The Cuck said "Go ***** a ****
The he strutted away! [struttin' struttin']
He gotta get paid! [by the hour]
Gotta go to work! [at Trump Tower]
... 'Til the very next day.
*** *** *** *** *** ba-dum da-dum]
The Cuck walked up to the cocktail stand
and he slapped his **** onto the stand...
"HEY!" *** *** *** "Got any *******
The man balled his fists and said...
"Why don't you go get a pocket toy and ***** that you filthy pervert who can't get laid so he comes and bothers the cocktail man because he has no game!
How about you go to another bar and stop acting LAME!"
The Cuck said "Your sister wasn't lame."
Then he zipped up his pants [waddle waddle]
as he strutted away [got the zipper stuck]
but that's all okay [showing off the package]
Till the very next day.
*** *** *** *** *** ba-dum da-dum]
The Cuck walked up to the cocktail stand
and he said to the man running the stand...
"HEY!" *** *** *** "Got any ******
The man got ****** then he started to smile.
"Come on, fellow! I bet you haven't had ***** in a while."
Then they strutted away [my **** itches]
but that's okay [they don't care they're *******
watch out for snitches [shut yo **** mouth]
'Till they arrived at the trap house
*** *** *** *** *** ba-dum da-dum]
"Here you go sir, she'll make your **** stir
She's even got a sister you can **** next to her!"
The Cuck's mind began to go....
"How about.... no!"
"But I like this place...
It makes my heart race...
and it would bring me joy....
it would make my day...
do you think we could...
do you THINK we could...
double team your wife so you don't have to pay?!"
Then he scrambled away! [zipping up his pants]
The man was angry in a trance! [hope he tied his shoes]
He even left the ***** [why'd you do that]
Instead he ******* the Cat.
*** *** *** *** *** ba-dum da-dum]
Jan 4, 2017
Jan 4, 2017 at 9:43 PM UTC
1.MY MOTHER WOULD STAND IN FRONT OF THE MIRROR AND PAINT HER LIPS RED FOR A MAN WHO WASNT MY FATHER.
2.MY BEST FRIEND STOLE HER MOTHERS LIPSTICK TO IMPRESS A BOY AT SCHOOL AND THE NEXT DAY SHE CAME INTO CLASS WITH A FAT LIP.
3.THE BEAUTIFUL BOY FROM MY FIRST PERIOD CLASS FRESHMAN YEAR BROKE MY HEART WITH LIPSTICK STAINS CRAWLING UP HIS JAW.
4.THE INSULTS ON THE BATHROOM STALLS WERE WRITTEN IN BLOOD RED LIPSTICK.
5.MY GEOMETRY TEACHER USE TO SNEER AT ME WITH SCARLET LIPSTICK ON HER YELLOW TEETH.
6.THE GIRLS IN MY FAVORITE BOOKS ALWAYS MADE ME CRY. THIER RED LIPS STILL HAUNT ME.
7.WHENEVER I’D TAKE IT OFF MY LIPS WOULD STILL LOOK PINK AS IF YOU’D SPENT HOURS KISSING THEM.
8.WHENEVER I THINK OF RED LIPS I THINK OF THE SCENE IN ****** WHERE HUMBERT IS ******* HIS LITTLE NYMPHET IN A DESPERATE ATTEMPT FOR HER TO STAY AND HER RED LIPSTICK IS SMEARED ON HER MOUTH AS SHE STARES UP GLASSILY AT THE CEILING
8.WHEN YOU FINALLY GOT OFF MY BROKEN BODY THAT NIGHT MY RED LIPSTICK WAS SMEARED ACROSS YOUR CHEEK. YOU PULLED ON YOUR PANTS AND ZIPPED YOURSELF UP . YOU THUMBED THE RED MESS ON YOUR CHEEK AND SMIRKED AT ME AND SAID. “GOD I LOVE THOSE RED LIPS"
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 12:13 AM UTC
Dad this suitcase hurts
I don't like it
It makes me feel unwanted
All of my favorite things fit in this suitcase
All of my things stay zipped in this suitcase
I can fit in this suitcase
If I can fit in this suitcase
Why do I go anywhere
Why do I sleep here
I have no home
Everywhere is home
My suitcase goes everywhere with me
And I know this may hurt for you to hear
Because you never liked the suitcase either
But, "you have to pick and choose your battles" right?
You have to let some things go
Isn't that how you say it?
How does it feel to let this one go
How'd it feel to let me go
Don't be so surprised
Nothing wins in a battle with avoidance
No one holds court with the jester
And no one laughs at the comic who didn't get on stage
T-ball starts in the spring pops
Sign me up
I want to learn how to play
I want to wear baseball hats
And run the wrong way around the bases
Ooh I would thoroughly enjoy to miss the ball entirely off the tea
Maybe even fall down trying to field a grounder
Will you get me a blizzard when the games is over?
Will you wake up to play catch with me before work?
Please sign me up
I want to play
I want to swing
Swing pops
Pick this one
Pick and choose this one
I hate this suitcase
It has wheels
I can go anywhere with it
I don't want to go anywhere
I want to be home.
Feb 27, 2012
Feb 27, 2012 at 4:19 AM UTC
Once upon a very old time,
In a perfectly ordinary forest,
Created solely for my words in rhyme,
There lived a very smart tortoise, modest and earnest.
In this same forest of the mind,
There lived a vivacious hare,
She was so stunning, all animals she could spellbind,
And wherever she went, she spread love in the air.
It so happened that the tortoise, our protagonist,
Found himself having an intimate crush
On the hare and if you get my drift,
He wanted to live a life with her, lavish and lush.
So he decided that to her he would propose,
And try to woo her with his intelligence and brains,
To marry her was his ultimate purpose,
He would surely convince her of his pros and gains.
But to his utmost horror, she rejected him downright,
And looked at him in pure disgust,
“no”, she said, “ you can’t win my love’s right,
because it is not for you that I lust.”
But persistent, and smart, he threw a challenge of love,
To her straight to the face,
“will you agree to marry me, my pure white dove,
if ever I beat you in a race?”
The hare agreed readily to the proposition,
Amused to think she could win without a care,
Alas, she didn’t know what the tortoise knew about the situation,
For he had read the story of the tortoise and the hare.
As soon as the race started, away she zipped,
While the tortoise slowly followed behind,
“He’s lost!”, she thought, “ his cream has been whipped!!...”
but the tortoise had something else in mind…
Half way through the race the hare began to tire,
“Oh!” she thought, “for the tortoise I’m still way far ahead…”
so into the hollow of a tree she did retire,
to have a nap in nature’s comfortable bed.
She was still sleeping blissfully when the tortoise reached her,
And saw her asleep in the hollow,
He could have won the race and won his love so dear,
But though he had knowledge, his mind was narrow.
“She’s the girl I love”, he thought,
we should be on equal terms, I shouldn’t get an unfair chance,
and without any fortitude and forethought,
he took a rash decision without a second glance.
“hey! Wake up! The race is still on! Don’t stop!”
his bellowing voice awoke the hare,
she nimbly bounded away, refreshed from the pitstop,
leaving the tortoise to stand and stare.
Obviously, the tortoise lost and well,
What happened after, I know not,
I hear he spent the rest of his life brooding in his shell,
But all this teaches an important lesson about love, does it not???
Nov 5, 2010
Nov 5, 2010 at 10:38 AM UTC
Zinging the zen-zone I was in
A zany request zig-zagged my way.
Princess Zinnia from the Zuider-Zee
Required a zippy line or two
To paint the zeitgeist of our times.
With the strength of a Zamboni-
With the power of a Zeus-
And an uncommon zeal I set out
To zap the doubt that slowed me.
With the flair of a Florenz Ziegfeld
And his zoftig choir of beauties,
I morphed into a zealot
Gamboling in the zephyrs
That wafted in from Zurich and Zaire,
Not to mention Zanzibar.
I felt like a Zacharias
When my zealous work went bust.
The writing turned into a zonk-
The accolades were zilch.
I felt like I’d been zippered up
Like a zebra in a zoo.
I lost my zest for going on
And slopped around in old Zoris,
Listening to zydeco’s beat
And feeling like a zit.
But then the Zodiac-
My zinging-singing sign
Came to my rescue
And I was marching off to Zion.
I was one wowie-zowie-zucchini
As I zipped across the pages
And zoomed from one idea
To an even zippier one.
So here, Sunprincess, is your verse
I’ve used up every letter zee
And gone from very bad to worse
But of this challenge, I am free.
ljm
Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 12:58 AM UTC
You ran & jumped & then slipped
Over Williams leg you tripped
Your ankle you broke
It is no joke
In blue plaster it is now zipped
But it's not all bad I say
You can still smile - don't dismay
I'll get rid of your shrugs
With plenty of hugs
And you can play Minecraft ALL day!!
(C) Pixievic
Apr 14, 2016
Apr 14, 2016 at 9:53 AM UTC
My chest felt like bursting
My ribs felt as if broken
All sight didnt seems clinging
All sound couldnt be eaten.
What is happening? What is this feeling?
My lips were zipped tightly.
I could hear my heart murmured
I could see my veins running
And the drumming became louder
Like the march of the army.
Didnt I do well? Should I ring the bell?
I've no slightest idea.
My eyes been jumping now and then
As the walls kept beating me up
I shook my head like a titan
With my lungs screamed out to the yard.
I've had this enough I say
Stop getting into my way.
No more pretends to be fine.. You'll see..
I'll put the end to the line.. Let it be..
Oct 10, 2012
Oct 10, 2012 at 5:13 PM UTC
Do you remember the summer,
when that Brown dusty path
lead into that forgotten wood?
Where the Green seemed so alive
it threatened to swallow you whole?
Where the Red of the flowers seemed so real
the entire day
felt like a dream?
Do you remember the flower
standing watch at the edge of the trees?
It stood in Violet defiance of all around
and you understood, and were humble.
Do you remember the sky,
that for the first time in so long
reminded you that it was Blue?
When the sun shined down
so White and pure you thought
it might just wash you away.
Do you remember the leaf,
hidden in the shadow of the canopy?
That reminded you of how even here
death's Black hand remains but
even it can have a peace about it.
Do you remember the sunflower
that just woke up to greet the world?
As it stretched its Yellow
as far as it dared
just so it could speak to you.
Do you remember the dragonfly,
that flew like everything was up to him?
The way he zipped to and fro
and then fro an to.
So quick you saw only Orange
as he blurred himself to your eyes.
Do you remember the cool
as you laid down to nap in the grass?
The Pink on your toes seemed to fit
so well amoung the wildflowers.
Where you slept for only moments
but felt refreshed like never before.
Do you remember the summer,
when that Brown dusty path
lead into that forgotten wood?
Where the Green seemed so alive
it threatened to swallow you whole?
Where the Red of the flowers seemed so real
the entire day
felt like a dream?
Jan 7, 2011
Jan 7, 2011 at 8:40 AM UTC
More than just something
Just shy of it all
Pick me up when I am down
Dust me off when I fall
A beacon of beauty
As your eyes fill with light
Guiding the way back
When I'm lost in the night
Your secrets are safe
As my mouth is zipped shut
And your love is a potion
That seals every cut
My darling, I dare you
Just give yourself to me
And I'll make you as happy
As you will ever be
Nov 2, 2015
Nov 2, 2015 at 11:16 AM UTC
I was last on the register, so
as soon as I said
that I was still there
everyone stood up and left.
Katie was still there
and she pointed at me and
asked me if I was coming tonight.
I said that guessed not and she asked me
If I knew that she wasn’t
my girlfriend.
I didn’t answer so she informed me
that I wasn’t allowed to be jealous that
she goes to parties that I don’t.
I asked, ‘what party?’ and she rolled her eyes
and left. I walked out of the classroom alone and
wondering what the hell just happened.
James saw me across the yard
and shouted
if I was coming tonight.
I told him to **** off
and walked quicker
every time he tried to
call me back.
A few kids on the bus
swore at me through
the open window, their
middle fingers and crude words
working together in pitiless tandem.
I turned up the volume
in my ipod
and kept on walking.
It carried on snowing. It had been
three days now and three times
we had been called to assembly
so the headmaster could announce
which schools had been closed for the day.
That morning he was
proud to tell us
that we were the only school
in the area
to still be open.
The snow was four inches deep
and rising and grey and dangerous.
Through the frosted windows
in the front door I could see
my keys. I kicked the wall
and nearly shattered my toes.
I climbed over my gate to the back of my house.
For a while I thought about
breaking a window.
The cat found me and pawed me shins
and I told her I was sorry,
but I couldn’t let her in the house.
I sat in a frozen plastic chair
and looked across the white
and green garden. The cat
joined me, and sat on my lap,
her body as close to me as possible.
I zipped her up inside my jacket
so only her head poked out and
we sat there,
watching cartoon’s on my ipod.
Batman fought The Joker again, and
Gumball finally got to kiss Penny.
The Joker escaped again
and Gumball realised
that it was all a dream.
It got cold and dark and eventually
both the cat and I fell asleep.
My mother shook me awake
and unzipped my jacket to let the cat out.
She asked me if I had a good day at school, and
I rubbed my eyes
and told her that
I couldn’t remember.
Oct 12, 2012
Oct 12, 2012 at 10:53 AM UTC
I'm sorting pictures in the archive box.
Shelved for that day that I kept putting off.
The job's to cull and have less stuff to store,
but spiders lurk and snakes are sliding out.
The photo shouts in raw dismemberment.
A howling wind, the prowl of packs of wolves.
I stare at trembling splinters held so close.
Her daytime Self looks like a sweet old dame.
I hear again the creak as floorboards pause;
my breath is held lest I miss steps that halt,
outside my door in seconds held at bay.
I see the handle
slowly...
lower..
down.
Her strides are swift and next, her perfume's here.
With broken breath, she yields to clawing drives
and throws my bedclothes off like spider webs.
My youth she steals as night groans on and on.
For merchants took her bloom on stormy sea.
I clutch my knife and picture stabbing her;
But I've no strength to do the deed - I'm five.
Her mouth is pushed on lips zipped up and cold.
The bed is torn in tangled bits of knots.
My legs are jammed together- ripped apart.
My pillow's wet as aunty takes her cut.
Dec 3, 2022
Dec 3, 2022 at 8:36 PM UTC
A little oasis occupied in a cafe
that approaches capacity.
Three opposite, two adjacent,
a couple at the windows to the right.
Six or seven more around the corner, out of view
Early twenties guy, has a slightly too-small zippered sweater,
with head down and a two-handed hold on his phone
the left relinquishes its grip for a minute to wipe across his face.
Late fifties man in a blue,zipped, baggy, sweat shirt
and early-nineties hair gone grey.
A phone too, but of a more palm-and-fingertip interaction
with pursed lips and an occasional surveying of the room.
A quiet girl at my right leaves and four chatty middle-aged yoga ladies
squeeze onto the table for two.
They obliterate my concentration
and I resort to a cocoon of headphone noise.
Their too-strong perfume forms a veritable blue cloud
and leaks into the taste of my tea.
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 3:40 PM UTC
O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN!!
By Vedanta Anagha
What I heard was complete silence.
I recently saw a man with no words—
A quiet admirer of this world.
Phone in his left hand,
Pressed gently to his ear,
Standing as if talking to the sky,
Standing as if hearing the heart.
I stood behind him, lost in myself.
My call was full of words,
The air offered soft, gentle love.
I didn’t hear the voice,
I didn’t hear the whispers.
I try to join him in the peaceful crowd.
I try to understand—to hear what silence is about.
He is quiet. He is honest.
My words cut through the edges of recovery.
He gives all of himself to the voice he hears.
What I learned today was just a mistake—
One I make every day.
His calm gaze pierces the world.
His zipped lips speak every truth.
To me, He is now a teacher.
And I call him–
Good Evening, Sir!
Sep 17, 2025
Sep 17, 2025 at 9:44 AM UTC
He is who you want to see at the airport,
half asleep, pastel sweatshirt half zipped.
Half length shorts ending just above the knees.
Eyes matching the green and blue abstract swirls
patterned into the carpet to hide passenger sick-up.
The background to travelling japanese circus photos,
they’ll look back in their scrapbooks,
past the ponies on the baggage carousel,
see him waiting for the delayed international arrival.
Stiff legs tread quietly down grey hallways,
stringing a stickered suitcase along moving walkways,
thoughts caught between continents, in escalator’s teeth.
Tiptoeing over the hot coffee spilled like oil,
the taste of morning breath clinging to the back of the throat,
chalky as chilled ashes, abandoned and unswallowed.
When the taxis are cold and the day’s been worn out,
before it’s even begun; patchy fabric stretched over toes
rubbing thin on the inside of your shoes,
he’ll circle your head like a daisy crown.
To hold the tiny scars on his broad shoulders,
traces blemishes like a mine sweeper,
would be like orange juice at 40 000 ft.
Intimate in a way only TSA agents know how to be,
looking for explosives behind the ribcage, to the left.
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 3:48 AM UTC
Actually feeling like death is better,
Better than letting her borrow my sweater,
Cold but she needs the warmth more and pleasure,
Doesn’t come easy when we’re talking Heather,
Endlessly flowing love has nowhere to go,
Fire and water that will burn and will flow,
Getting pain and repose all in one blow,
How do you regulate love? no one knows,
Infidelity fills the atmosphere,
Just like how the mug and all of your beer,
Kills you over time quickly drawing you near,
Little voices, the insanity premier,
More drugs to drown the drastic discomfort,
No way you know how much I have suffered,
Open the blinds but keep emotions covered,
Painfully black and white out the colors of,
Quirky emotions that fall off the shelf,
Remind yourself that nobody can help,
So you end up understanding that the self,
Tortures you and you can’t blame anyone else,
Under pressure and stress twenty-four seven,
Violence seeping out pores till’ I’m deafened,
Woke-wise so I won’t make it to heaven,
Xenophobe so no change cause depression,
Yields surprising results in the face of,
Zipped up introverts in the place of poets.
Nov 9, 2018
Nov 9, 2018 at 3:02 PM UTC
Lizbeth stood in front
of the tall mirror
inside her mother's wardrobe
she was wearing
a short black dress
her hair was tied
in a bun at the back
I stood watching her
uncertain why
we were in her parents' bedroom
and why she was *********
her mother’s clothes
hanging on hangers inside
I looked around the room
a big bed made tidily
a chest of drawers
a built in cupboard
a picture on the wall
opposite the bed
of some country scene
and above the bed
a huge crucifix
made from wood
with a plaster Christ
look at this one
Lizbeth said
I looked at her hand
taking out a long red dress
she held it up
then put in front of herself
and turned to face me
what do you think?
it's a bit gaudy
I said
shall I try it on?
no I can see
what it would
look like on you
I said
she sniffed it
she must bathe
in **** scent
Lizbeth said
she did a spin
holding the dress
against her
how do I look in it?
she's taller than you
it'll fit her better
I said
not so sure
Lizbeth said
hold this
I held the dress in my hand
she unzipped her black dress
at the back
and pulled the black dress
over her head
and stood there
in a white bra and *******
give it here
she said
and taking the dress
she put it on
her own black dress
was on the floor
here zip me up
at the back
she said
I zipped her up
at the back
watching the straps
of the white bra disappear
as I zipped her up
she turned on the spot
and looked at herself
in the tall mirror
well? how do I look now?
well at least
it's longer
than your own black dress
I said
it came to her ankles
she looked down at it
yes too ****** long
she said
unzip me Benny
she said
I unzipped her
seeing the strap
of the white bra
come back into view
she pulled the dress
over her head
and put it back
on the hanger
she stood there
in bra and *******
how do I look now?
undressed
I said
do you like me
like this?
I feel kind of
uncomfortable
you standing like that
I said
why do you feel
uncomfortable?
what if your parents
come home now
and see you like this
and me here with you
and you in your underclothes?
she smiled
guess they'll feel
uncomfortable then
she said
I picked up her black dress
best out it on
I said
now?
yes now
my parent's bed is over there
all made up and fresh
and waiting for us
she said sexily
I stood holding
the black dress in my hand
where are your parents?
out some place
when will they be back?
don't know
best get your dress on
and out of their room
I said
what about my room?
the bed's smaller
and unmade
and the room's untidy
but we can still
do it there?
I heard voices from downstairs
is that them back?
I said in a low voice
Lizbeth pulled a face
**** me yes
let's get to my room
and so she put
the red dress back
in the wardrobe
and shut it up
and we rushed across
the landing to her room
and shut the door
behind us
I looked around her room
it was as she said
untidy
the bed unmade
books
LPs
soiled washing
over the floor
and the curtains unopened
that was kind of close
she said
yes
I said
downstairs the voices
were loud
and a row seemed
to be going on
but Lizbeth seemed unconcerned
standing there
in her white *******
and bra
holding the black dress
gazing towards
the unmade bed
but I had other problems
swimming around
inside my teenage head.
Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 4:13 AM UTC
Yellow mango
flesh perched
on ruby red lips,
her elbow
propped on the
bar, watching
the leaving
ships,
News crackles
of a major hurricane,
tourist are
leavin
locals are
stayin
When the
surge subsided,
far inland it
reached
her body
was found
washed up
on the beach
the seas dead calm
the wind's mouth
zipped.
They knew it
was her by her
ruby red lips.
AD
Jan 19, 2011
Jan 19, 2011 at 5:58 PM UTC
Look behind everything you’ve been told, and see the lies unfold
Not everything is as it seems, as though we may try to avoid plots and schemes
A world awaits where we be zipped up and laying inside a cage
Perhaps infinite fires of the souls delight, might pry forbidden truth’s to sight
We’ve only read of hell, but what indeed if we be internally brought to the plate, the brim, the fiery pits of dark sin
I’ll sing hymns of anarchy and bleed my lips bare dry
I’m a woman made of fury
With eye’s that seek means of a way to purity
This is who I am
Though the world seems to try and shut me down
Fury... builds into rage, not always staged
Shalt you be enraged?
Though meant for a stage
Admittedly so, you’ll be witness of my show
That just like the snow will fall on the heads of those who don’t know
©Jessica Stull
Dec 14, 2018
Dec 14, 2018 at 12:15 AM UTC
Who the Hell wants to
Go off to Heaven?
Think about it please:
If you had to spend
All eternity
With “goody two shoes”,
And “zipped up virgins”,
And “pious *******
Always putting on
Thick sweaters of wool
Cause there ain’t no heat,
Playing “Yahtzee” and
“Old Maid” and “Go Fish”
And “Bingo” and “Red
Rover Red Rover”
Send the next bore on
Over! You’d pray and,
Oh my dear, you‘d wish
To come down to Hell
Where the party’s at!
By the time Heaven
Starts serving soda
Water and broccoli
Oh my dear you’ll crave:
***** Linguini
A full Trough of Sloth
A Southern Wrath Wrap
Greed’s mead, Peppered Pride
Glutton’s Mutton and
Sweet Envy’s Smoothie.
Can you live with just
Holding their cold hand?
Sitting on some cloud,
Gazing and never
Feeling or touching?
Never burning, nor
Experimenting?
This is blunt, but think,
This is where all the
Interesting folks
Go! Laughter? Its here!
Debauchery? Here!
Creativity!
Ingenuity!
We are what made life,
LIFE! Think about it!
Has obedience,
Has docility,
Has simplicity,
Has submission changed
This world? This universe?
A wise man, once said
“If heaven is where,
“Nice” folks like you go,
Then its surely hell
That I’d rather know”
Here is the freedom!
Here are the cool kids!
Why starve in the light,
When in the dark there’s
Every delight and
Every single thing
Enjoyed throughout life?
Feb 24, 2011
Feb 24, 2011 at 1:53 PM UTC
She felt as if she was going to explode. She hated herself, the guilt began to consume her as she waded in her own disgust. Ugly, fat, and now a failure. For once she wanted to follow through and make the voices in her head going against her demons proud. Not yesterday, unfortunately not today, but maybe (probably not) tomorrow.
But, we want to stay with you... forever.
There's only one thought on her mind. Nothing but this single thought mattered. Just one, nightmarish, thought racing through her head.
But the voices were far too cunning to ignore.
Get rid of it!!! Get rid of it now!! If you don't you will be a failure. A fat failure!! Get rid of it while you still can. All of it.
She walks calmly past her mother; her composure plays the role of some sort of genius guise. She'll never know, no one will ever know. At least for now.
Hurry up!!! You wouldn't want all that to settle, would you?
The toothbrush was sitting where she had put it that morning, after using it to brush her teeth. This time, it was being used for a different purpose. A disgusting, wonderful, agonizing, joyful, painful, perfect, ugly, beautiful, addictive, freeing purpose.
What are you waiting for?! Do it now silly girl.
Nothing else made her feel so powerful.
That's how it's suppose to feel. That's how you know you're doing it right.
Many minutes zipped by, as if her brain pressed the fast forward button. She quietly got up, flushed the toilet, turned the water off, brushed her teeth, changed clothes, and exited the bathroom. The cold, hard floors were all too familiar to her beaten down knees.
Good girl.
47 minutes had passed during her absence.
She began to feel anger for herself. Once, just once, if she could go a whole day without deprivation or gluttony, maybe she could feel what it was like to function properly.
But, we're proud of you!!
All she wanted was to be able to go out with her friends and not be terrified. The secret must stay a secret.
No one can know about me!!
She began to think out loud.
"How will I ever become fully recover(ed)?"
As if on cue, the demons inside her head replied.
You won't.
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 6:42 PM UTC
*Andromeda Pulses Eager To Shine,
Black Sky Outlines Swirled Lemon Lime,
Comets Race With Tails Ablaze,
Dazzling Dancers Which Capture Our Gaze,
Earthenware Births From A Cosmic Soil,
Fiery It Thrives--To Our World It Is Loyal,
Ganymede Dances With Calypso In Flight,
Heavenly They Dance Through Days And Nights,
Illusions Reality In Wind They Sway,
Jasmine Fills The Breeze Of April And May,
Knapsacks Of Gold Lay In Coarse Sands,
Lavish T'were The Warm And Loving Lands,
Mercury Peers Around The Light In The Sky,
Never Will It Dare To Speak A Lie,
Orion Plays Among The Other Stars,
Prancing He Hunts In A Prairie Afar,
Quiet, Spirits Drift Along The Currents Of Time,
Radiant They Skip Gleaming Like A Dime,
Shrill Heartbeats Throttle The Ear,
Together Moons Lurk--Ever So Near,
United Blue Nebulas Sing In Pride,
Water Crystallied Trying To Hide,
Xenophobes Hide Underneath Worn Roads,
Yonder Throats Sing Untill Their Melodies Erode,
Zipped Were The Lips Of Change*
Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 5:20 PM UTC