|This folder houses all the requests that expired or pieces that have no submit link. I will randomly request them again in the future, if possible.|
Diminshed IQ'sDiminished IQ'sDiminshed IQ's by slutkisssmackgirl
Lobotomies and genocide,
Little girls all dressed in white,
Virgins for fourteen years,
Whores for forty,
They wear white dresses down the aisle ,
With hearts that are red and burning on fire.
They walk into an institution,
As soon as they spread their legs,
Dancing around high on medication,
Inhaling what's left of the dregs.
What an awful situation,
Nothing will fit,
Their clothes they are not tight enough,
Their dresses they shall slit.
Their I.Q's are diminished,
It takes so long for them to finish.
Mentality they wear on their sleeves,
Gives them nightmares when sleep
And when they dream.
ChaosChrist, I must have slept funny, my leg's gone dead. I must have been pretty deep over too, I don't even remember getting back to the flat. I don't remember anything since that guy pushed me down, with that girl screaming. Yeah, she's still at it, I can't have been over long. Crying now, I think, I can't hear properly. I think they put cotton wool in my ears, didn't want me waking up.Chaos by SaViNgGrAcEs
Why isn't this leg moving? I need to get up, see what time it's got to. But I like this lazy half-sleep bit of waking up. And I feel sick.
I open my eyes and my headache cracks me between the ears. I try to wince and suddenly realise every part of me hurts, and it's pain like nothing else. Pain in my very insides, worming its way up and down me, throbbing and shivering and wrestling with me. Pain that shudders from my belly and takes up so much room in my body I feel like it's going to
Dead First LadiesWhen girls go pull their dresses up,Dead First Ladies by janne-landet-poetry
Life deals the final blow:
That even though you rock the look
You aren't Jackie O,
There, in the field behind the church
The marigolds won't last;
I see these little details never
Noticed in the past.
If he doesn't know what hit him, well
Then I'm not gonna tell,
If he doesn't know that I know, then
He doesn't know me well,
And if I come away from it
With spiders in my hair,
Remind me just how hesitant,
How fumbling his stare,
For the world is made of little things;
The button on my skirt
That I'll pro'ly never see again;
All pleasure and some hurt:
If dead First Ladies blush and turn
Their shameful heads away,
I know they're wishing, secretly
They're where I am today.
There are grass stains on his trousers
And I gladly take the blame,
But I ask him if he loved her
And he only speaks my name,
I said I wanna be her, but
Thought better of it, then
Turned Presidents to humans and
Then boys right into men,
'Cause when you're old, all accidents
YesterdaysYesterdaysYesterdays by HouseofChabrier
I dont usually let myself think of you or my youth
I dont listen to music that I heard with you
I dont favor or savor anything about our generation
I dont reject it, but I also dont ever reflect on it.
When you left I cried until our sons begged me to stop.
I couldnt but did anyway, I never stopped working,
I never gave up or gave in, but I did fall apart.
Gathering myself back up again I failed to pick up some of the pieces.
There are remnants of me scattered over this earth
Bits and pieces that no one ever wanted or had any use for
Little shards that sometime turn up under foot
And unknowingly drive splinters of pain into my heart.
No one ever sees these little splinters,
If they do they dont know what they are looking at
I see and recognize small bits of my love, dreams, and zest for living.
I ponder a small hole in self confidence,
And there is a huge ditch of loss and despair I studiously avoid.
Kisses, ah so many to forget and
- you cannot submit your own work
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