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I _ _ _ _ MY MOM...I hate my mom for being stupidingly softhearted
I hate her blindness
I hate how she sees the "good" in people who are just evil
I hate how she forgives even if betrayed again
Only to forgive yet again
I hate how she sacrifices for someone not worth it
I hate that she cares so much
I hate how she worries about someone
who is not even worried about her in the slightness
I hate how she continues to support someone
who failed her a thousand times
I hate her warmth
and her brightness annoyingly blinds me
I hate that she is that kind of a mother.
I hate her really hate her really really hate her!
But most of all I hate myself for being hateful
For being cold hearted,
For being stubborn,
For being selfish, and self-centered
And for loving her despite of that
I **** MY MOM
me, myself, and iRENeI miss me
The lost me..
The old me
The simple me
The shallow me..
The innocent me..
The child in me..
Where are you?
Where am I?
Can you find me?
Or shall I find you?
Will I ever?
A world where I scream
The infinite words of silence
Where no one hears
Yet they understand
Where people walk
Upon their eyes fall behind
Speak this world where
Only I know
I can't comprehend
This meaning of this
An everlasting mistake
As my days become my nights
My nights become days
I realized time sleeping
In the depths of nothingness
What do I do?
What do I have to do?
To make things
Things on my mind
Be like those of numbered alphabets
Leave behind the baggage
I didn't even know what's inside
Or go on and move forward
For things that may come but hide
Seek what is time?
Or seek what is in front of me?
Find me for I am lost in the darkness
Blinded by light
Eyes on me
Stare and love me
Why don't you see?
In my eyes I want to be
I like you
But do you?
Twisted in the arms of somebody
The Plight of the Gentilea hundred thousand capybara came out
of a manhole on third avenue by the river
walked up third
and over to Bronx Zoo
to liberate their cousins
and back down third down past the Bowery Ballroom
and the skeleton of CBGB
and onto the Brooklyn Bridge
I should have known:
something was coming ;
the Haredim in Williamsburg were off the streets
at business-open on a Thursday ;
I assumed it was Saturday ;
I left the house to empty streets—assumed I was hung-over ;
I hadn't slept off Friday ;
I hallucinated a guinea pig the size of a Fiat
eating my neighbour's garbage bags
and his two square feet of yard
a casual lover fucked me that night
with loud victorious abandon ;
we were dancing a lemonjuice capoeira
all kicks and burning abrasions ;
we were a jaguar and an anaconda
debating dinner plans in snaps and jumps ;
the capybaras took Prospect Park Zoo that night
liberating their ance
THE ALBINO DARKNESS IS OUR LIGHTthis aint no light o the lord we're walkin in me old PETS
this is the visible darkness. this is the albino darkness ur seein in.
a k9 gift of scent cones ( for Max and BElle) rise like horns from my sleeping noggin
it is a gift from the sunny day inside the dream.
Moose Head n ExCElSiOr Hotel Trailboth in the flesh me
and in the memory..............................................................u
can safely move in line
mong the poodle featured roses
the big phantom dog thought UPAHEADANDLOOKINGBACK
felt us both to be in clean, fresh
and in tidy unopened bloods. (with eating human bone fantasy there somewhere)
like them balmy lemmon fresh spark lings
from out 1 of em washing up liquid advert
i tried to detach the mid 70's discontinued dance techs
from moose head cremation ceremony
smoke fright wig/halo rising out of head hair holes
gift ov nevergreenhousefly(Nimrod the 19th)
seems in xtc
chasing my mouse arrow across warm ice of computer screen.
words beneath ice:
google. spirit. machine. rising.
out window scene
the non evergreen trees are waving
goodbyes with last hand of leaves-till next spring then
with a parting gift of green leaf sun screen
for the albino creatures of the wood
-we re reaping shades of indigo
forms without shape
shed without a reason
scattered by the faceless gods
at times when music made no sound
For NowFor now I'll hold you in my heart while you belong to another;
For now I'll hug you daily and act like a friend and brother;
For now I'll count the days that go by that I hold in my secret;
For now I'll only tell a few that I know will keep it;
For now I'll find a way to live while I am dead inside;
For now I realize that there is nowhere I can hide;
For now I'll go on through the days, of pain and endless "fun";
You may say it's just a phase, but I choose when it's done.
Swimmingly Daze R WONT againput on UR white stilettos
and go pondward 4 the tadpoles
or take this box of black magic to the retired swan feeder in the vale
then we can watch the angelmen put the sun back in its box
I am HERE...yet to be FOUNDI AM HERE, yet to be FOUND
I feel lost; I don't know what to do.
I don't know what I am doing.
Or if there's anything worth doing
I'm here in the end yet I am just beginning
I want something more
I know I'm meant for something greater.
Yet it seems that my hands won't reach it.
And every time I think about it
I feel a hole in my gut,
that's telling me there's more to life
than just being THIS an irrelevant stone
waiting, just waiting to be found
waiting to be polish
hoping, just hoping that I would come out
as a precious as I was born to be
or even more precious than a diamond
Is this enough?
Is this ALL OF IT?
I feel like I'm gasping sand in my hands
It is slowly slipping away
The more I hold on to it, the faster it slips.
But the lesser hold, the greater probability,
that the wind blows all of it
What do I do?
I lied when I said "Let it go."
Because I know I can't
Because I know I won't
But time can tell
I secretly hoped I would be not just so
IronmanHear me read it
My friends used to call William "Ironman" because the first time we kissed he got a nosebleed and the taste of his blood haunted me for a long time after it. We'd only been twelve years old and apparently the anxiety spiked his blood pressure to the point of combustion... I remember that when we were forced to take sex ed a few years later we were divided into separate classes for boys and girls, in case a diagram of an ovary was too risqué and we became animalistic and started clawing at each other in our seats, but nonetheless when our teacher Ms Jacobs had explained to us what an erection was in my mind all I could picture was the blood rushing to his nose and then the slash of cranberry across my blouse.
With the idea planted in his mind it didn't take long for William's hands to start wandering, but the image persisted. Every time I thought about just letting it happen I wondered what would happen if he got too excite
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More