Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Sep 2014 T2m
1487
I'm sorry?
 Sep 2014 T2m
1487
Sometimes people you've forgiven
do one last ****** thing to you
and you never recover
and you never see them the same again.
 Sep 2014 T2m
betterdays
there once was a time,
when her face was unlined.

her hands,unseamed
and uncalloused.

her eyes, bright and unclouded.

her *******, perky and full.

her back straight,
her stomach, tight and naturally, slightly concave.

and she had legs, that turned heads and a walk,
that created many,
a wolf whistle.

but then,

she had a life,

left her youth behind,

married,
badly, as time would tell.

had four children,
watched one die.

discovered,
she had married,
a selfish, gamblin man.

got a job
and then a second,
just, to feed her clan.

watched the love die.

then, watched him leave
with a resigned ,
yet  a relieved sigh.

raised,
two rambunctious boys
and a sickly, stubborn girl.

then, watched them leave.
launched them,
succesfully,
into the world...

now, the years,
have gone, bye the bye.

and with,aching back and teary eyes, she shuffles on
toward her demise.

with the memory of
times long gone,

and the echoes
of wolf-whistling guys,
legs long and lean
and her unlined face
with, eye catching smile.
giving her a sense of
inner grace....
that plays upon
her lined and crumpled face.

as she relives her youth
in her memories
as she finds that wonderous place, when once she was young.....and oh so beautiful.
the many strands of my my mothers beauty now
lies intertwined.......
in the visage of her face.
but she lives more and more
in her memories of a carefree youth....
 Sep 2014 T2m
i
mercy
 Sep 2014 T2m
i
warm tears
stain my cheeks,
begging for mercy
and a little blood.
 Sep 2014 T2m
i
-you (10w)
 Sep 2014 T2m
i
you will
certainly be
the ultimate,
paining death
of me.
 Sep 2014 T2m
Queen
staircases
 Sep 2014 T2m
Queen
I love starecases
I love the different levels of them,
especially the colours,
black, brown which ever hue,
one likes or chooses.
however,
I hate the ones we have at home,
the ones covered in ****** stains,
I know
I sound insane,
but the ghost still lives and on walks on them,
the ghost of mom,
you remember dad,
you were there when she died,
in my arms,
when you shot her brains out
one,
two,
like a boxing match,
she was knocked out,
why didn't you listen to her?
when she told you to put the gun down?
she now sleeps six feet underground,
so much for the love of staircases.
Next page