Strangers

Used to know a crazy hoe, now I don't mess with her
I was always stressed and depressed, she raised my blood pressure
I never found my nuts compressed under overbearing weight
Torture urges did I suppress, all I could do is wait
A torture surge did I possess, with every slut that followed
Each left my crotch a total mess, my nutsack squished and hollowed
The year has been a huge success, in terms of getting hurt
And yes as you would guess,
I mean the way that makes me squirt

One more pluck from the tree of my ailing heart
This prose will be nasty, like the wettest of fart
A young lad is going through a lot, I cannot front
So now if you would, allow me to be blunt
I no longer desire the warmth of a cunt
You can take your boobs and give them a punt
When one plays with your head as well as your gut
And they never supplied the destruction of nut
They demote themselves, from sheets to the streets
And I'll promote myself, to the beater of meats
I see how to some that came off a little gay
Understand that I don't desire men in any way
When your cock is a scale replica of the Eiffel Tower
A singular "meat" does not justify its power
Moral of the story, a young lad will be fine
All I need is oral, the self-serving kind
Have a good day and always remember
Unless she tears sack, you should never defend her

 
Was it worth it?  I'm talking about my life, here  
and the time and devotion I poured into her life  
I Felt it was a wellspring of life for me (too)  
 
at least we are still good friends.  
 
Weighted,  my  mirror blinded me  
from reflections –  
deflected… inflections… interpretations…
or perhaps I just didn't  want to believe  
 
I fell last month and there was no one around  
to catch me and it hurt...a lot (still smarts).  
Damn, I am constantly licking the deep scratches  
that used to bleed bright now a sticky dark red  
 
[ Mmmm, the smell of metallic iron
smearing the red elixir meant for life
over my skin like a soothing salve of control ]
 
 
At the end of the tunnel  
I found light if but a ray
 to whisk me away  
to the next terminal  
where hopefully  
a friend waits to keep me
embrace me  
longer  
than the broken mirror  
that weighs me down  
here with false hope  
&  
tearful facade  
 
We will ever
Be friends and love one another. . .
 
my love, however,  
is  
like cheap perfume
doesn't go away  
right away,  
 
 
it lingers...  

Quietly, I found myself
a secret place to hide my things
it's in the space,
the vacant places
the empty sockets that were left
the dead veins holding the rest,
holding the rest from a decent shot
at taking a nice, new breath.
It's all I've got.
This is all I've got left.
Try not to leave this place a mess,
when it's time.
When it's the end of the end.
I hope to God I don't think of it.
I hope to God that I can get out of it.

Because I'VE CHANGED.
Atleast I think that I did.
So what the fuck kind of sense does it make to do this?
And I'VE TRIED.
And you fucking know that I did.
Every ounce of hate I've tamed, and let go to the wind.
And I SIGH.
Because it's impossible to win.
There's nothing left to fight for when there's no one left to see it.
It's in the empty, vacant places.
The place where the deepest darks are kept locked a secret.
The empty sockets that it left.|
Quietly, I cursed myself.
I guess I just haven't changed much yet

I got an ominous vibe
Didn't remember who they knew
Some souped up car in the garage
An eerie shade of blackish-blue

I felt like an intruder
Ducking to descend the basement steps
Various weapons adorned the walls
Strangers stood in the shadowy depths

I moderated my consumption
Needed a level head
A fistful of pills was offered
Yellow, white, black, and red

Refusing felt like a mistake
Looked around for a familiar face
Only strangers filed into the room
It was a dark, and shrinking space

My senses started to swoon
I think I dropped my cup
Cloaked figures looked on with concern
When I think I finally woke up

My throat acidic-like bile
A funnel was making me gag
A wretched, old man poured liquid
From an odorous, leathery bag

I tried to resist the violation
Helpless to raise a limb
The room now spooky, and empty
Only me, and him, and Him

A catheter coiled beside me
I could feel its irritation
It led back around to the wine skin
That fed my irrigation

He pumped it like a bellow
The other content to observe
Said in a soothing voice,
"To refuse Me took some nerve."

One cackled, "Don't lose your mind!"
As foam dripped from his chin
I struggled to keep it together
The veil of sanity thin

He came behind, and embraced him
As crooked fingers pressed my eyes
When again permitted to open them
I witnessed a synchronize

They shared the strongest features
His muscles, mind, and looks
They reached along a shelf
And chose one of the books

Raised letters of tarnished hues
The title, Poems by Pent
It opened pluming dust
To a page with corner bent

A morbid incantation
The strangers began to read
The funnel was removed
My nose began to bleed

Blood seeped into my mouth
Which I had no strength to shut
I began to suffocate
As the strangers read my smut

They finished the last line
As I managed one final breath
He told me, "Words have powers,
And these have caused your death."

Stirring sugar into it,
Is the vision I have of you,
As we sat sipping in the morning,
And the taste of your lips,
That still lingers,
Decades later.

Cream mixed in becomes,
The liquid chocolate of your skin,
Still brings tingling to mine,
And is a memory,
That delights my eyes,
Decades later.

Decades later,
Still,
Heartache,
Heartbreak,
Hurt,
Regret.

In lament,
I drink my coffee black.

The memories have faded,    
And with them,    
Much of the pain.    
     
As those memories faded,    
The anger,    
Why him?    
Why not me?    
Vanished,    
Wondrously,    
Completely.    
     
Bright colorful snapshots,    
Replaced by,    
A mellowed image,    
Washed out,    
Nearly lost to the fog of time,    
Grainy,    
Nearly transparent,    
Gray,    
Shadowy.    
Remembrances,    
Of what once was.    
     
Bits still survive,    
In Sepia.    
     
I held your hair back,    
While you vomited,    
Your too much beer,    
You had at the party.    
     
Walking across campus,    
My arm around your waist,    
Your hand in my back pocket.    
     
Walking in the warm spring rain,    
Soaking wet,    
Laughing,    
We were so very young.    
     
There are many,    
No longer vivid,    
Still warm me at night,    
Faded,    
Not forgotten.    
     
I thought of you,    
The other day,    
When Joanie,    
Died.    
Alone.    
Breast cancer.    
     
Your wedding was the week,    
After mine.    
Yours ended,    
Mine is dying.    
     
I Googled,    
The name,    
I knew you by;    
Nothing.    
     
I Googled,    
The name you took,    
Marrying him,    
Before divorcing him;    
Nothing.    
     
Vanished.    
     
Achingly.