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A typical male poem that won't pull over for directions

Joined
Oct 15, 2002
Messages
133
i want to cry...i want to hit you
bash myself to sleep and use brick wall punching bags
excrrete all the milk of my human violence
everything..my life... diagnosed one big tumor
digitally convert myself to feeling nothingness
android, robotic, --a comatose humor
Delilah please do not run with those scissors!
cut me weak but do not hurt yourself
because of stains of yesterday..i now am in the age of blame
please little girl, remove your rattle and diaper..
to relieve restrictions ...and fix my face with mortician paint
maybe this is all bullshit...my life stored in these keystroke poems
in distortion and megabytes of silicon and plastic
my platinum age of my pussy, pampering, pacifier, pouring tears
-----------------------------------------
and you know i spoil you all pink as a labia..so here's another retarded mummble with a chuckle thrown in due to lack of understanding my surroundings that i call a poem...
i'm adding another one..i didn't spend much time or contemplation on it.. just a small rant
the greeks expressed their freedom..
the breaking of their chains in tragedy
i myself love action movies
the crumbling of a building ...
the flinging of shattered glass in explosion
tear down those constructs that imprison us
add signs and marketing devices with bulletholes in the side
there is your liberty
destroying things around you bringing the ultimate pride
relationships, your job, school...
I think beavis and butthead had something deeper going on..
to take a swallow, and moisten genitalia..
and just fuck it all away...
self destruction my construction..
and i am conscious of who'll it'll hurt..
biting and chewing noses..just to spite a face
fed through a kiddie grinder...or maybe that's the image i like
where i can always play the victim..
maybe that what makes me the biggest victim of all
[ 05 December 2002: Message edited by: BLULITER LackofMorality ]
 
and one more...god i write too much..
when life means nothing more
than the shards of glass on the floor
of a glass thrown in frustration
just wanting it to all end
when a bottle of pills in one hand
and a bottle of gin in the other...
is all you have left..
and you put it aside for another day
hoping tomorrow everything will be ok
 
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