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CP May 2014
Don't talk to me of love
Don't talk to me of love
I want none
This illusion of the above is crap
The words have lost their meaning
They're just stealing what we push on them

Don't talk to me of love
Oh would you like a dove to fly above?
Well ****
This word love, doesn't work like that
That is all just crap
Don't talk to me of doves and roses
Roses are a symbol of love they say
Quite right it has thorns all over it
And it quickly withers

Don't talk to me of love
Placing our hopes in others
What are these lovers going to do for you?
They all just fall through

This love you speak of needs glue
It's shattered and broken  
It's cynical and tired
And you know what - it's fired!

Don't talk to me of love
Talk to me of self love
Talk to me of friendship and family
Don't talk to me of superficial love
The coupled, masqueraded facade we all seem so willing to participate in
Put it in the bin

Don't talk to me of love
CP May 2014
Late night thinking
Unblinking and sinking
Rethinking my choice of words
It's absurd
Everything is so blurred
Fragments shifting through holes
I take on all these roles
What lost souls

Late night thinking
Tinkering with memories
I need remedies
These fragments slash through flesh
Fresh wounds fester
Exposing new memory holes

Late night thinking
Should I have said that
Combat of my mind
Memories become no mans land, blind
Confined within the crevices of my mind
I just want to unwind
Let's leave all this behind

Tomorrow, perhaps, you may find
Some peace of mind.
CP May 2014
Our advice is loose a few pounds
You're too round, they said
They frowned and drowned your silhouette
We'll kick you to the ground

Our advice is take up less space
Women with grace should know their place
You're a disgrace
A women should not leave a trace,
For this is a mans place

Our advice is speak less
Your opinions are too excess
Just go fix your dress
You have men to impress
Don't depress them with your free thoughts

Our advice is cater to your surroundings
These stings of femininity are your duty
But you see you cannot flee
They key to your freedom
Hangs around the neck of ****
Beaten till you're numb
Look what I've become
Come come, look what you've made us do
Beat you till you're blue, because you flew

My advice is, crush the bones of your oppressors
Put on your armours, grab your spurs
Smash the words of your oppressors
You deserve answers not slurs

My advice is gracefully place your furs on your throne, built of their souls
Throw away their scrolls into the coals
Admire the fire within your porcelain chest
And create a bonfire for the blessed

Their advice is done, you are no longer their nun
Now teach these to your son
Or he may too be, thrown into the sun.

-CP.

— The End —