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Post by themirrorthief on Jun 19, 2019 20:49:15 GMT -5
your rage worries me you are so angry you say your childhood was violent strained downright scary but I wasn't there and cant say to me you are a bit scary so much rage so quick to take offense in a world of imperfect people your struggle must be a great one you smoke to much cigarettes and weed and you do drugs to keep you off drugs you hate yourself apparently because you can only stand your artificial dope self and that isn't cool I have no right to judge but I worry I don't want you to wind up like the girl in the chili peppers song POLICE STATION that would be such a horrible waste I want the real you not this one sorry I cant help How I feel I care
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Post by themirrorthief on Jun 29, 2019 0:31:43 GMT -5
I wanted it to be perfect but its so hard to pour so much into emptiness I found it all imperfect in a most sad fascinating way so long and sad this song called my life I dipped into the well of forbidden and to easily obtained I was shy and backward sly and factward and it all drifted by so slowly and then faster like a runaway train less confident every day and in most respects but I want to keep it keep it all
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Post by themirrorthief on Jun 29, 2019 0:41:06 GMT -5
I watched you from afar and then closer much closer like a dream now dripping with the sweat of your honey poised over me promising heaven or even more the haunted raining fields when I pick up the portents of my misfortunes and I dream on with the new messages so frightening but beautifully staged apocalyptic utopia filled with spice pain and never ending soulful rains making art so lovely and unpretentious just personal sensations soaking through and all around me and your sweet sighs and pretty eyes this thing
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Post by themirrorthief on Jun 29, 2019 0:43:26 GMT -5
hold your beauty near my broken heart heal me with your breath so sweet and warm like fine hair it kisses my inner longing and makes me stare into myself and try to find something that would make me worthy and so it goes
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Post by themirrorthief on Jul 5, 2019 0:33:17 GMT -5
spine tingling and fantastic the colors inside my exploding mind game I touch you with love understanding and vice but you know how afraid I am and push me away to dream alone to sigh at home while the stars rush into each other and create nothing but soul searching and bittersweet memories of today and tonight all the times we never got it right just out of sight out of hand but love is a guide and it calms us even when its mostly inside and a little sublime
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Post by themirrorthief on Jul 5, 2019 0:34:07 GMT -5
should I put titles to my poems...to make each distinct...or whatever
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Post by themirrorthief on Jul 5, 2019 0:34:47 GMT -5
its such a tough life people
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Post by themirrorthief on Jul 9, 2019 21:12:52 GMT -5
you will never figure it out no one ever does hey, its a mystery and a damned fucked up one in my humble opinion everyone is their own worst enemy it seems the fondness for drama is a tad weird by Odin's sacred beard today women are dangerous they hate themselves so sincerely so much for women's liberation so now im a hater time to buy a gun go totally nuts no if ands or buts once I WAS A wise man now I know for damned certain I will never understand
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Post by themirrorthief on Jul 9, 2019 23:15:37 GMT -5
Im going to write a million poems then maybe a million more I have a lot to say about nothing as a general thing but I still want to speak my mind dysfunctional, brain damaged piece of shit that it is its all I have to work with so work with me k my ears are buzzing loud my blood pressure is boiling over but I wont die that would make things easier you see so I will write more poems I hope one or two don't suck and if they all do that would just be my god awful luck
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Post by themirrorthief on Jul 13, 2019 0:43:57 GMT -5
I gotta get back to prose, this stuff is just hot air coming out of my tailpipe(ass)
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Post by themirrorthief on Jul 27, 2019 2:09:58 GMT -5
he had found the perfect formula. the combination of powerful drugs that induced sleep and incredibly vivid dreams. He lived in this dream world for quite some time. It was a beautiful thing and a complete escape from shitty reality.
He often found himself within ancient ruins. Beautiful they are, marble and granite and all the rest. And women, drifting here and there, mostly naked and their bodies so ripe. he would talk to them all the time and whisper things to them. they would laugh and call him a dreamer. He did not miss the irony.
when the drugs ran out he would paint three or four paintings. It was grueling work but with the aid of lots of wine, cigarettes and weed...he would make it through. Then, when he had a thousand he would buy more of the dream inducers. It was beautiful...and people told him his artwork was improving by leaps and bounds.
LIfe had been hard before, he had been in the army. He had killed people and they had tried to kill him. He had been wounded a number of times. His right eye was gone and he was missing two fingers on his left hand. IT had been hell, he had seen things that made him stagger. The killing, the raping, the blood, the senseless destruction. He marveled at it all. Who wouldn't friends.
He was also a semi professional wrestler. It was fun and he met girls that way. Occasionally he could dig a real girl. Their soft bodies and big eyes always made his Johnson rigid...that is hard a fuck if you get my drift. Catch it I meant to say...fuck it...fuck it all.
Wait I digress, or is it just me. In his dream state he often went days without eating...he was very slim and dangerous. Dangerous because he held no less than 16 black belts. He loved going in a bar and taking down some huge asshole who was half drunk and all stupid.
Leon...his name...the hero of this story. Had a hard compact body and nearly 14 years of strenuous martial arts training. In all of his classes he graduated number one...a born killer.
The one day he was attacked on the street by a jealous husband. Leon beat him to a pulp and frankly it felt damned good. The man was in the hospital for a very long time. He never did get back full use of one leg. Leon had crushed his kneecap. Thus were he fortunes of war.
Leon finally drowned late one night. He was very drunk, very stoned, and very naked. he had decided to go swimming but out in the deep part he had literally just passed out. That was the end...no this is the end. I don't do funerals, or at least not well. Leon did get a kool white casket that some old girlfriend bought. It was nice, or so they tell me.
actually Leon faked his death because he was a Chinese spy. He did jobs for them in exchange for sex behind the Chinese restaurant. he also liked their egg rolls. their egg fo sucked though. Leon did hid dope and Chinese hotties and gave trumps secrets to the Chinese. Of course he made it all up but what the fuck. He was a democrat...reality sucked. Leon did live on the edge though, the edge of a shitty small town with only two taco bells. This worried him a lot and he was not the type to worry much. That was until the day he met kitsumekat. That hot bitch ran his ass ragged and stole all his dope. But the sex was divine and that was all that mattered. Hey, he was a progressive thinker. Sometimes he even went out with Antifa and sprayed piss on people...and sucker punched them. Then he would get drunk till he puked and that was how the poor devil sterilized his soul. It was the best of times and it was the worst of times. And dope was expensive man.
insanely bitchy and moist with madness by meanus
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Post by themirrorthief on Jul 27, 2019 2:46:06 GMT -5
love is like a tear a sparkle or mist dripping and dreaming mournful almost and filled up with sighs tenderness and passion yet sadness is her sister like a frozen waste one flounders so starved for a taste of life that means something John Keats was a fool but he knew beauty and that bit of genius made him immortal
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Post by themirrorthief on Jul 27, 2019 2:47:30 GMT -5
my poems are like a box of chocolates leave them in the backseat and they melt
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Post by themirrorthief on Jul 30, 2019 21:46:05 GMT -5
U awesome silent sun
blistering under the silent sun that awesome black hole that shines so bright my mind need no bible to point toward my creator the greatest ever incubator where things become ole mighty sun I am your child I struggle toil beneath you and your bathing warmth keep me as long as you will as I assault this terrible pill called my life
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Post by themirrorthief on Aug 5, 2019 0:24:33 GMT -5
there is no twilight for mystics believe me I know there is so much for you to feel to touch and create the swirling abyss of your mind can clear itself and see right into all these visions that wait everywhere everyday money, love, satisfaction are all there if you can see through the mist of time and the unknown that can be known a strange power can be had and its beautiful a thousand gifts can flood into your psyche for you to bend into a highway of higher emotional understanding all the hardships are steps up a ladder to beauty where you see so much get in touch with God he lives in your heart just obey and trust and remember he never punishes anyone he leaves that up to you
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