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Zero Nine Apr 2017
Miriam Marcus struggles up out of bed. She's caught up in blankets and clothing, stuck with a foot in the sheets. Coffee smell. Pungent, slightly sweet, it pulls her by her shoulders, with its body to the door. Then, sharp and deep, scents of a trashcan floating chicken in its own juice punch her in the nose. In the hall, lights flicker. In front, on the couches, bodies pile up, pile over the room. Get caffeine. Dodge the food spoiling happy on tables, counters, and do what you do as you do. Every day.

What's wrong?
Short. Succinct. Acute.
I never even wanted
this picture.
(You did!)
First smell is a fragrance
soft to my nose.
(Sour cream.)
Will I be number 6 in
this two bedroom
forever? Will I
lose my job?
(Probably.)
What's wrong?
Short. Succinct. Acute.
I never even wanted
this picture.
(You did!)

You wanted this medication,
baby. You can't tell me different,
though you could try. *****,
why you gonna waste my time?
I'm waiting for you, waiting
for you to catch up. While you
play twenties in your thirties
I urge your image using only
raw throated screams, always
unseen behind your head in
floating, incorporeal code!
And it kills that I can't know
(Pour coffee.)
if she'll catch up!
(Ignore it.)
I'll chew her heart into chunks,
(Work day.)
just let me!
I'll eviscerate her, devour her
and **** her out
into a self made five mile hole
in the lonely woods!
Just let me.
....
Must we hurt ourselves
Diving into the fray?
Must we **** ourselves
Hoping in misery?

Shall we beat ourselves
On being an imbecile?
Shall we treat ourselves
Lower than we feel?

Shall we pick roses
Thorns and bladed leaves
Blood-red colors in corsets
Of Pain and Lust that lives
Anna Lee Jan 2017
Back then
the love
you always gave to me
knowing when my heart
was starving
and me
giving nothing back
the memory leaves
a sour taste
on my tongue
Sombro Dec 2016
You're a trophy,
Bragging rights,
A shot of servility, yet to be drunk
A ship on some waves which I may command
Poseidon inside them,
Yet to be sunk.

I remember you, don't I?
We waltzed a little, stepped on each others' toes
But we don't sound so good now,
I'm confused to hear you speak,
At least, at least I know you
And at least I can chirp to you,
Little tree, Rock solid face, without emojis or discipline
Tell me more about yourself.

What awaits me tonight
What lurk in your mind?
Foully feminine, dusky on broke wings
And sprightly on toes of splintered wood.
Cave in, fall down, and maybe I'll find you again,
But up until now,
I've only heard you selfishly

              and wikl never ztop doin so
The spelling mistakes at the end are deliberate, they're supposed to show mistaken attitudes which we cannot avoid, I hope that comes across somewhat :)
Àŧùl Dec 2016
Love is better,
Love is bitter,
Love is sweet,
Love is sour,
Love is ****,
Love is cool,
Love is hot!

Because
love is the fuel* for life.
HP Poem #1307
©Atul Kaushal
Crimsyy Nov 2016
Numb loathing cannot portray
all the words I could say,
I may shake but
my insides rage.

Here comes my sun,
to me, you're no one
I'll be alright,
I'll sleep tonight,

You're childish, disgusting
placing empty words
where "sorry" should be,
Sorry I spat you out,
I just detest sour coffee.

Watch me set
your words on fire,
Watch me pull out
the card that'll
end this game,
watch me wash
my hands clean of you,
watch me forget
your name.

- Crimsyy
M L Soo Nov 2016
To stand alone on a distant shore
My being stricken with love and grief
The soul, it sings, of lost amore
and beckons back a loving thief

Like petals- surfing, on cold night air
Moonlight- drizzles through the dark,
The moon- it offers a wicked stare
and echoes the acid that fills the heart
Devin Lawrence Jul 2016
I'm so tired of fighting....

When is screaming going to heal?
When will the cold keep us warm?
Using words like needles
though your heart is plush with love;
why do you push
and then ask me to pull?

This love is ripe.
This love is sweet -
just like the fruits of our latest nights -
and yet we are so sour.
You can throw quarrels and daggers
laced with spite and cyanide,
but then what can be done
when your fruits shrivel
and die?

When your mind clear,
as too is your path,
and I'm always there
waiting on the other side.

I'm so tired of fighting,
but I'd only sleep with you.
So keep this room sacred,
and let the only noise heard
be the sounds that lips make
when they dance with each other.
Colm Jul 2016
Sourness escapes my lips,
Pulling tails around my waist,
Into my oldest shoes I slip,
Italian beasts from a bygone age.

My eyes are full of nothing today,
That is except for weariness,
And perhaps a little tiny streak,
Of something resembling  belligerence.

My clock was screaming out dismay,
And I displaced it on a whim,
Desperately searching for a way,
To snooze until a different day.

But no sirree that couldn't be me,
Because this morning I believe,
That I've too much reliability,
To let such sourness ruin me.
Some mornings... Haha
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