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Traitor.Staring me in the face, what do I see?
My own little backstabber grinning at me.
Oh, and wouldn't you know it:
You're a little traitor and you're afraid to show it.
Acting sweet, delicate, and stoic;
But I know where your loyalties lie.
I know where your loyalties die.
Oh, trust me. I know.
Staring me in the face, what do I see?
Just another slut, your words pointed at me.
Oh, and wouldn't you laminate your title,
And you threaten to be suicidal.
Oh, I know all about it.
How much experience you've had on the floor;
I'll show you the door.
If your father ...If your father was a saint,
pin a flower to his lapel
or lay one upon his grave,
and a kiss upon his cheek,
or blow kisses to the stars.
if your father was a jerk,
spit in his face or stomp
happily upon his grave and
bless the one who taught
you to spit and to stomp.
if you father is a bit of both,
pluck the flower petals and
guess if he loves you or not.
He does! But he only loves
you a little more than himself.
a road, a tree, a rock.She will leave him, quick so she will not look back.
She will move so fast she won’t even take the time to shake the dust from her shoes,
Because even if she cannot be with him, she cannot condemn him.
But she will stop beneath the chestnut tree.
For a time, it will remind her of what she has thrown away,
of how she can still save him if she is willing to sacrifice eternity.
But she will save him differently, leaving him so he can find the way himself,
without his love for her to blind him.
The path, like her father, will lead her on
and the rain, like her mother, will drown out her footfalls.
He will spend more time blinking b
73 - First-AidI’ll say it now:
I don’t know how to save a life.
The first time I wanted to learn
how to take care of myself,
I opened a first-aid kit
hoping that it would help me
I unwrapped all of the bandages,
glanced at the packets of medicine,
and wondered if the ointment would actually work
on wounds that weren’t on the surface of my skin.
That was the same day
I learned that an antiseptic stings more than soap on
this is why we use alcohol to numb
In health class,
they taught me what to do if I ever injured myself.
Figure out what is wrong,
raise the wound to prevent bl
I take comfort in being honest for onceThe timer never resets itself, but murmurs a low and grating noise, scraping through my frontal lobe like tires on a fast car.
And I’m thinking of the next lie to tell someone else tomorrow because the truth is, I’m not okay and I have not been okay and I will never be okay.
Would if I could, I would never be touched or spoken to because I’ve grown accustomed to nostalgia and harsh humming and feelings like fresh dough, just risen.
I can’t count how many lies I’ve told, because my tongue is peanut-butter-without-jelly, and I insist the truth is lurid so at least you’ll say my lie is idiotic and I’ll
Daily on C-SPANCompassion falters – fervor withered;
Grace, once hardy, with prop and crutch still staggers
Conceived and nurtured in hope, that place now trampled and waste
Humility, so easily entreated, long forgotten
PRIDE in its full ARROGANCE has come
It finds no room to give; hard, unyielding; ill-suited for parley
With knotted fists and vile in bluster
HATE and MALICE are near kin; quick in PRIDE’S defense
GREED and ENVY, owning loyalty to none, serve their own;
Finding comfort among them – bloating in the guise of rights
Asfalttisamurai eli muutama tarina rohkeudestaAsfalttisamurai
Kirkossa kuulutetaan kuolleet
Kostonsa kanssa avioituneet
Lasketaan miesten lukumäärä
Veri virtaa viemäreissä
Taivas kaikuu seinämissä
Askeleeni heijastuvat ihmisistä
Opin pitämään enkeleistä
Revin siipeni rintakehästä ja lennän takaperin
Peittyy järvet asfaltilla
Aivomme täyttyy oksidilla
Lapset huutaa perkelettä
Hän tarjoaa elämän vettä
Kasvavat teddykarhut koiranputkea
Asfalttisamurai teloittaa rikolliset
Katkaisee kaulat paheelliset
Saapuu sankarina ehtoollispöytään
Sirkuksen fiinein elegantti
Mä istun aulassa ja odotan bussia
Mä olen tanssinut turhankin
Three Cheers for the DispossessedIn the fading light instead of a feast
We crouch over the crumbs of each others' company.
I don't know that I expected a crowd
But there are a few stragglers here
Even though I don't know their teams or all of their names.
Before I wrote for you.
Molded my soul for your life.
In the breaking of the nighttime hours
When the sun goes red
And my heart beats faster
And I grow sluggish with incomprehension
Wondering what I was doing here in the first place
Or how I could lie to say I had this to give
Or why it ended up in the heap it did
I'm still standing but in a stupor
Looking for the next step caught among the stragglers.
And I won't write for you.
But I will write for all our sakes.
Because streaming before me is this sunset
And a thousand broken promises that I refused to call by that name.
And what little I did give broke apart anyway
In part because I failed and partly because it wasn't all mine to give
Or yours to take.
And for the past five years I've molded my life
Keep Panicking and Never Grow StrongAnxiety suits me like a colourful flag banner on an empty street
It shivers, it rises and falls, it should have been taken down last Christmas.
And I feel like a stray cat we picked up last night, covered with sores and sick and we're never sure if we can cure her, not completely.
I want to speak openly, I want to be brave, but my throat is covered with a bad case of guilt and has been lost for the -perfect- words, and I'm terrified of being dismissed for using the wrong ones
Sometimes I think I can't help myself, how I feel completely drained after a short workout, how I feel raw-throated, aching, irritable. Maybe right now, I c
So Very BoredI haven`t been this bored
In a considerable amount of years!
I`m sitting at my computer
Nearly in tears!
S`pose you could say
I have a writers block.
This isn`t even funny,
So I`d prefer if you didn`t mock.
I wouldn`t wish this feeling
Upon any me or anyone,
So maybe I`ll just go watch T.V...
Wait! What have I just done?!
WinterThey fear the coming winter
The chiming of the bell tower
Razor shards of bone splinter
Death leaves the mouth sour
Low and Behold! A beast's rise
ringing, ringing, it's Jack Frost
Lay the claims that snow buys
The bells ring, graves crossed
Mountains of stone are built
To keep the keep's men dry
Stained snow, bad blood spilt
Lesions of hoarfrost, men die
Beware not the coming winter
The ringing bells which it tolls
Beware the blades you sinter
And the dying of cooling coals
To Be AliveLive before you die, or else you'll die before you live
Life is not a circle, so don't go 'round and 'round
Know that death is coming, but go to sleep knowing you will wake
Only light can make you see, so step out of the darkness
the choices we makea man who grows up with the mindset to live and let live is at a crossroad
he sees the dangers associated with his options but has no better course of action
hes living in a small cramped basement apartment struggling to carry the heavy load
him and his girlfriend's attraction only only strengthened by a strong interaction
but the problem is she thinks she might be pregnant and not sure if she will keep it
he knows that he has to give up his dreaming and make a true path for himself
but its hard out here and he needs a better path than nickel and diming shit
his only options go straight and risk not having enough or getting worse and risk h
Attention is a love-hate syndrome"She would be so happy," You think, "To see me smile at her."
You don't see the worms of anxiety you put under my skin, burrowing into my fingers, making them twist unnaturally like startled birds, pulling my shoulders around me like a blanket.
You make me ashamed to be pretty.
"I am special. She wouldn't mind if I touched her. It's *me*, after all."
You can't see the hate-marks you leave in my skin, the deep-seated shame carefully installed to let me know I am sullied because another man has touched me, and how steep the slippery slope is.
You make me scared to be pretty.
(My sister once told me I needn't worry about rape because I am too
Lovely rainbow tape lightning
And cherry soda rain
The thunder of their laughs
Numbing the pain
Skies made of honey
Dirt made of pixie sticks
Oceans of Fanta
As their songs begin to mix
Dancing to the lullaby of a dawn since past
Waking to a bed of candy and kin
Realization of what happened hits
To wake to a world where the drugs always win
en iyi fabrikadan geceye çıkışımızı
çıkmış olmaktan mutlu
ama işe muhtaç,
kimse fazla bir şey demezdi
- önce marşların gırgırı
sonra da bir kez daha çalışan
eski motorların kükremeleri
ve patlamaları duyulurdu
- yılgınlık içinde geri vitese takıp
fabrikayı arkamızda bırakmak üzere
- her birimiz ayrı yerlere doğru
- kimi karısına ve çocuğuna
müthiş bir beyinle sıkı bir vücut
ender biraraya gelir
ya da sıkı bir beyinle müthiş
ya da müthiş bir vücutla müthiş bir
daha da kötüsü, pek sıkı olmayan
bir beyinle pek müthiş olmayan
vücutlar çok sık biraraya
hatta, halkın tamamı
dünyanın haline gel de
sinema salonunda yalnız oturan
ya da süpermarket kuyruğunda
gece sisini delen
bir ışıktır aşk
üstüne bastığınız bira şişesi
sarhoş olduğunuzda bulamadığınız
on yılda bir gerçekleşen
ezilmiş bir kedidir aşk
köşedeki pes etmiş gazete
diğer insanın mahvettiğini
sandığın şeydir aşk
zırhlı savaş gemileriyle birlikte
kaybolmuş olan şeydir aş
kavşakta balon satan adamı
arabalarını kaldırıma yanaştırıp
balonun fiyatı yüzünden
tartışmaya başladılar, fiyatı
içlerinden biri ona
kafasına iki mermi
balonlarını alıp, "şimdi
partiye başlayabiliriz," dediler ve
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`ChewedKandi has certainly gone out of her way to keep the vector community on the right path. Always making sure that her talents are infinitely scalable, Sharon has put her bezier curves to excellent use, and firmly anchored herself as an inspirational leader. We're absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for June 2013 to `ChewedKandi. Congratulations, Sharon! Read More