I asked her if she was going to sell her body again
she said she didn't want to talk about it right then
so there was something to talk about
something to be aired
It wasn't hard to figure out,
she was making ends-meet when I met her
then once we hung out
she told me of all the evil things in her life
her boss who is always asking for head
because he said he needed to get off
it made him feel better, she said
his balls hurt, it was the clap
when I first noticed it
I showed her what was going on
she thought that always happened
that it was normal in all men
before I had gone to her work,
because she invited me to
every day she said I made her feel safe
for two whole months.
She was still working,
not making enough money
although the designs all went out
she made a measly dollar per
though when she staid on
without me there
doing her deed in the bathroom
she could pay
for her babys' food and then some
so she told me one day
it is over
that is that, I cannot have this with you
She got new clothes and make up
Her shoes were also new
everything about Her changed
Her demeanor towards me
there was another man
other men
the smell on her, the ebb
in her
unnatural
clap
slow
patient
rising out and through
and that fucker told her it was normal
for your dick to drip like that
and she believed him
bringing it into our bedroom
I loved her
with every ounce of my being
although with this betrayal
I could only learn to forget her
and these realizations were just the beginning...
who_leo
16 June 2015
And she's a Moon, Cosmic.
Thinking about her
seems redundant
for her own existence
is but a figment
of her own imagination.
She's lived a thousand lives
worn a million faces
with each mask falling
from her broken facade
to show the ruins left behind
from the drugs and selling herself
so that men may have their kicks
so that she may make the bills
to pay for the little one who waits
back home to get sick from her breath
covered in the cum of her clients,
Still she wonders why her family gets so sick,
why her child is always ill sleeping next to her at night,
why her parents always look at her
with eyes so empty–
because they know what she does
in the bathroom stall of the print shop
bending over to show how well she's studied
and done her kegels to please the men.
Her parents know
that she drugs unwilling parties
with the help of the dwarf
to make her wallet bigger,
but what she doesn't remember
is if the coffee he's brought her
was dosed with scopolamine or not
sometimes she's curious
why her pussy aches,
why her chest pounds,
why her neck is sore,
why her head hurts–
scopolamine, burundanga.
He rapes her
when he doesn't want to pay her
she's okay with it
she's fine
she's a good girl
when she's on her knees,
her aching knees,
when she's bent over the toilette
getting pounded from behind
by yet another
and another
and another and another
and another and
another
and
another
and another,
she's fine with it
it's what she's been taught
what she's been made to be
what the drugs have done
what the desperation led her to:
becoming a tool for the pleasure of others.
Labels:
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you know who you are
05 June 2015
Contrary to popular opinion I want to LIVE!
When your life is a roller coaster
you've got no choice
other than to take that ride
enjoy your time in the light
shadows and spikes
like a neon forest
climbing up the side
its glow engulfs you just
as you fall down so hard
as you fall down so far
that the only thing you've got
is that breath
coming quickly in and out
you're so in love with it
you're so in love with it
with yourself, and that is okay
because we all want to live
we all need a break
you've got no choice
other than to take that ride
enjoy your time in the light
shadows and spikes
like a neon forest
climbing up the side
its glow engulfs you just
as you fall down so hard
as you fall down so far
that the only thing you've got
is that breath
coming quickly in and out
you're so in love with it
you're so in love with it
with yourself, and that is okay
because we all want to live
we all need a break
Labels:
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01 June 2015
Her Eyes Shone Like An Accretion Disk
She speaks to me in code
with the way everything came back
the memories
of nights at that bar just talking,
chatting, asking to just imagine
how blessed one must be
to be able to teach someone
to make love again.
Then I didn't know
I was completely unaware of it,
I had never had that chance
and never thought I would get.
Until I met you
and we went into that room
where we took off most of our clothes
making love without kissing.
We talked afterwards
you looked at my tattoos
I looked at your lips
the gap in your thighs
We didn't get to exchange numbers
but I looked for you there
many times
many many times
and you probably saw me
but you didn't let me know
I wanted to love you
something inside me just
wanted to love you
all I really wanted
Time passed, washing away
what happened that night
putting it in the back of my head, memory
where I never suspected it would come back.
So we met that day
9 months later
and you pretended, as
I pretended
like it had never been.
We saw each other
not 15 hours later
to catch a movie
about gentlemen with umbrellas
I touched your hand
I held it in mine
and from that moment
You had me.
I didn't care where I'd met you
before, on the streets
all I could see was that beautiful being
there, inside your eyes.
Flickering screen turned into flickering dance floor
we moved, swinging to the music
and just as the place closed
I kissed your lips
Then just outside on 23rd I kissed you,
then on 17th and 6th
again on 15th and 6th
all the way to 12th and 6th
Until you came up to my place,
invited because I knew your friends,
we talked about this night
then we went to my bed
I touched your skin softly
making amends where I could
stitching together the gaps
in your corporal heart.
Tearing my own out
undoing years of slowly sowing
stitches together, I found you
but you unraveled into a lie
with the Cinnamon water
blessed by a priest
sprinkled inside the corners
offering to open up some truths
which just came pouring out
like a sickness slowly dripping
to the sound of meeting hands
painful globes and wretched stench
of the truth leaking out.
She said it was normal
to feel this way
I said it was a terrible way to live.
She said I'd taught her
how to make love again
feeling herself in the moment
not having to forget.
For that I am thankful
because that night
so many years ago
sitting at that bar in Coral Springs
Sour Girl and I had our chance meeting
without much do or say
we were dancing around each other
like stellar bodies nearing decay.
You spoke truths
words that echoed through time and space
did I not listen well enough?
Where were you from?
Live Long and Prosper.
with the way everything came back
the memories
of nights at that bar just talking,
chatting, asking to just imagine
how blessed one must be
to be able to teach someone
to make love again.
Then I didn't know
I was completely unaware of it,
I had never had that chance
and never thought I would get.
Until I met you
and we went into that room
where we took off most of our clothes
making love without kissing.
We talked afterwards
you looked at my tattoos
I looked at your lips
the gap in your thighs
We didn't get to exchange numbers
but I looked for you there
many times
many many times
and you probably saw me
but you didn't let me know
I wanted to love you
something inside me just
wanted to love you
all I really wanted
Time passed, washing away
what happened that night
putting it in the back of my head, memory
where I never suspected it would come back.
So we met that day
9 months later
and you pretended, as
I pretended
like it had never been.
We saw each other
not 15 hours later
to catch a movie
about gentlemen with umbrellas
I touched your hand
I held it in mine
and from that moment
You had me.
I didn't care where I'd met you
before, on the streets
all I could see was that beautiful being
there, inside your eyes.
Flickering screen turned into flickering dance floor
we moved, swinging to the music
and just as the place closed
I kissed your lips
Then just outside on 23rd I kissed you,
then on 17th and 6th
again on 15th and 6th
all the way to 12th and 6th
Until you came up to my place,
invited because I knew your friends,
we talked about this night
then we went to my bed
I touched your skin softly
making amends where I could
stitching together the gaps
in your corporal heart.
Tearing my own out
undoing years of slowly sowing
stitches together, I found you
but you unraveled into a lie
with the Cinnamon water
blessed by a priest
sprinkled inside the corners
offering to open up some truths
which just came pouring out
like a sickness slowly dripping
to the sound of meeting hands
painful globes and wretched stench
of the truth leaking out.
She said it was normal
to feel this way
I said it was a terrible way to live.
She said I'd taught her
how to make love again
feeling herself in the moment
not having to forget.
For that I am thankful
because that night
so many years ago
sitting at that bar in Coral Springs
Sour Girl and I had our chance meeting
without much do or say
we were dancing around each other
like stellar bodies nearing decay.
You spoke truths
words that echoed through time and space
did I not listen well enough?
Where were you from?
Live Long and Prosper.
Labels:
©,
Alí,
Eyes,
Gonzo,
poem,
poetry,
sour girl,
transcendence,
truth,
why am I sick,
writing,
you know who you are
26 May 2015
On a rainy day, court is in business.
There in the court
with the massive Queen
which sits in the middle of the great hall
just spitting out words to the masses, orders
Our lovely maiden–anticipates
swords unsheathed all in a row, stiff
swords unsheathed all in a row, stiff
a queue of would be gentlemen await her
across the entrance of the great hall.
While their hands tightly grasp their swords
their lips whispering of her great deeds,
it rains as the Queen loudly drowns away
a soothing sound of water coming down.
If it doesn't rain, the land withers.
If it doesn't rain, the crops die.
If it doesn't rain, there is no dinner.
If it doesn't rain, babies starve.
So she saves the world
enchanting crowds with red lips
floats across the open court
on her nimbus cloud.
Labels:
©,
Alí,
art,
color,
dandelions,
dream,
Epic Post,
Eris,
Gonzo,
HappyBlue,
pill head,
placebo,
queen,
sour girl,
stranger than fiction,
truth,
unique,
why am I sick,
writing,
you know who you are
"No, sabe que? Todo bien." Ella dijo.
It is a brand new day!
Gracias por las lecciones
De nada por las lecciones
I loved every minute inside you
De tus ojos
Y aun asi
me hayas dejado
quemando por dentro,
Estoy feliz.
I am happy,
because it didn't feel right
towards the end there.
It became something of a joke,
My love for you.
Que Dios os bendiga a los pecadores
Ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte,
Amen!
Que sigamos resando
por perdones ajenos, queriendo
momentos prestados
nunca devueltos.
Cambio de papeles
Click Click Click Click
Alma capturada digitalmente
The Ghost In The Shell, it
Whispers sweet nothings
to an ear eager to please, just then
emotions become toys
la lengua en la oreja.
There is something to be ware of:
Te ame.
Verdaderamente lo hice,
pero eso fue, y no sera.
En el nombre del Padre,
del Hijo, y del Espiritu Santo.
Gracias por las lecciones
De nada por las lecciones
I loved every minute inside you
De tus ojos
Y aun asi
me hayas dejado
quemando por dentro,
Estoy feliz.
I am happy,
because it didn't feel right
towards the end there.
It became something of a joke,
My love for you.
Que Dios os bendiga a los pecadores
Ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte,
Amen!
Que sigamos resando
por perdones ajenos, queriendo
momentos prestados
nunca devueltos.
Cambio de papeles
Click Click Click Click
Alma capturada digitalmente
The Ghost In The Shell, it
Whispers sweet nothings
to an ear eager to please, just then
emotions become toys
la lengua en la oreja.
There is something to be ware of:
Te ame.
Verdaderamente lo hice,
pero eso fue, y no sera.
En el nombre del Padre,
del Hijo, y del Espiritu Santo.
Labels:
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freedom,
Pereira,
placebo,
poem,
poetry,
reality,
Risaralda,
transcendence,
you know who you are
Trying
I waited to throw out the cigarette butts with your lipstick on them. I just couldn't bring myself to before, but now it's no biggie. I guess it's my way of cutting it out of me.
Labels:
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freedom,
Gonzo,
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Pereira,
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stranger than fiction,
strip,
this is strange,
truth,
writing,
you know who you are
Lunar Pirate
Labels:
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Alí,
awakening,
boredom,
CopyRight.,
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Eris,
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Pereira,
photo,
Photography,
poem,
poetry,
you know who you are
16 May 2015
On the passing of dreams
All I can imagine is the worst
of all things happening
without even closing my eyes
I can see it all.
27 April 2015
Eviceral
That moment when you feel something cold and distant in your bones, when the pit of your stomach falls to depths unknown, and all you can do is watch processions of emotions crawling their way down your throat.
Eviceral.
Eviceral.
04 April 2015
These things
Things I learned from you:
Knitt
Smile through the worse of times
It is best to go with the flow unless it is something that you don't believe in
Fools rush in, but it's funner that way
The IMF is a bunch of Daft Cunts
Kissing is beautiful
Making love with your eyes closed is okay
It's okay to miss people
You should be a vocal and aprehensive lover
Learn to listen
Speak when necessary
Drinking helps anxiety
It is okay to miss someone
It is not okay to let that someone hold you back
Don't loose yourself to the pleasures of the world
Always try to help people
Be kind
Love
For this I thank you, and I still think about you in the most positive light. Even after everything.
Knitt
Smile through the worse of times
It is best to go with the flow unless it is something that you don't believe in
Fools rush in, but it's funner that way
The IMF is a bunch of Daft Cunts
Kissing is beautiful
Making love with your eyes closed is okay
It's okay to miss people
You should be a vocal and aprehensive lover
Learn to listen
Speak when necessary
Drinking helps anxiety
It is okay to miss someone
It is not okay to let that someone hold you back
Don't loose yourself to the pleasures of the world
Always try to help people
Be kind
Love
For this I thank you, and I still think about you in the most positive light. Even after everything.
20 January 2015
13 January 2015
On Moons and other stuff.
Time weighs heavy and yet people still dance to old routines. It would be nice to actually find someone "different" for a change, all the wrong echoes, all the wrong flags, and the blind following on the tail of the devil. M-O-O-N: that spells torture, a Chinese finger trap and a packet of fags, don't get smoke in your eye.
Labels:
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awakening,
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CopyRight.,
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destruction,
digital suicide,
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Eris,
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Pereira,
poem,
poetry,
Whore
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