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Facade"So,"

A slight nod,

"Are you going to make this your own choice?"

The girl I spoke to leaned forward, towards me, now at eye level.

I handed her a small flower.

Black and White.

And then added, as she stayed silent,

"Oh, and~ pushing the self-destruct button doesn't count!"
Traitor.Staring me in the face, what do I see?
My own little backstabber grinning at me.

Oh, and wouldn't you know it:
You're a little traitor and you're afraid to show it.
Acting sweet, delicate, and stoic;
But I know where your loyalties lie.
I know where your loyalties die.
Oh, trust me. I know.
Your secrets.
Indecent.

Staring me in the face, what do I see?
Just another slut, your words pointed at me.

Oh, and wouldn't you laminate your title,
Contaminating cycle,
And you threaten to be suicidal.
Oh, I know all about it.
How much experience you've had on the floor;
I'll show you the door.
Attention whore.
a road, a tree, a rock.She will leave him, quick so she will not look back.
She will move so fast she won’t even take the time to shake the dust from her shoes,
Because even if she cannot be with him, she cannot condemn him.

But she will stop beneath the chestnut tree.
For a time, it will remind her of what she has thrown away,
of how she can still save him if she is willing to sacrifice eternity.
But she will save him differently, leaving him so he can find the way himself,
without his love for her to blind him.

The path, like her father, will lead her on
and the rain, like her mother, will drown out her footfalls.
He will spend more time blinking b
If your father ...If your father was a saint,
pin a flower to his lapel
or lay one upon his grave,
and a kiss upon his cheek,
or blow kisses to the stars.

if your father was a jerk,
spit in his face or stomp
happily upon his grave and
bless the one who taught
you to spit and to stomp.

if you father is a bit of both,
pluck the flower petals and
guess if he loves you or not.
He does!  But he only loves
you a little more than himself.
I take comfort in being honest for onceThe timer never resets itself, but murmurs a low and grating noise, scraping through my frontal lobe like tires on a fast car.
And I’m thinking of the next lie to tell someone else tomorrow because the truth is, I’m not okay and I have not been okay and I will never be okay.

Would if I could, I would never be touched or spoken to because I’ve grown accustomed to nostalgia and harsh humming and feelings like fresh dough, just risen.

I can’t count how many lies I’ve told, because my tongue is peanut-butter-without-jelly, and I insist the truth is lurid so at least you’ll say my lie is idiotic and I’ll
Daily on C-SPANCompassion falters – fervor withered;
Grace, once hardy, with prop and crutch still staggers
Conceived and nurtured in hope, that place now trampled and waste
Humility, so easily entreated, long forgotten
PRIDE in its full ARROGANCE has come
It finds no room to give; hard, unyielding; ill-suited for parley
With knotted fists and vile in bluster
HATE and MALICE are near kin; quick in PRIDE’S defense
GREED and ENVY, owning loyalty to none, serve their own;
Finding comfort among them – bloating in the guise of rights
Asfalttisamurai eli muutama tarina rohkeudestaAsfalttisamurai 


Kirkossa kuulutetaan kuolleet 
Elämänsä aloittaneet 
Kostonsa saaneet 
Kostonsa kanssa avioituneet 
Lasketaan miesten lukumäärä 
Kerätään kolehti 
Sujahtaakin kolehtiin
Vessapoletti 
Veri virtaa viemäreissä 
Taivas kaikuu seinämissä 
Askeleeni heijastuvat ihmisistä 
Opin pitämään enkeleistä 
Revin siipeni rintakehästä ja lennän takaperin 
Peittyy järvet asfaltilla 
Aivomme täyttyy oksidilla 
Lapset huutaa perkelettä 
Hän tarjoaa elämän vettä 
Kasvavat teddykarhut koiranputkea 
Asfalttisamurai teloittaa rikolliset 
Katkaisee kaulat paheelliset 
Saapuu sankarina ehtoollispöytään 
Sirkuksen fiinein elegantti 


Mä istun aulassa ja odotan bussia
Mä olen tanssinut turhankin
Bagarmossenincense floats up to you,
voodoo child,
from the helheim up to the abyss of clouds.

It's spring, and it's time to sing a song
of marshlands.

It's spring in the land of winter, come sing me in the colors of the jungle.

But don't drift back to your seashell,
it's still sunny,
and from the crevices in the kitchen wall,
at 4 am,
are blooming native flowers

and damn are they beautiful.
Keep Panicking and Never Grow StrongAnxiety suits me like a colourful flag banner on an empty street
It shivers, it rises and falls, it should have been taken down last Christmas.

And I feel like a stray cat we picked up last night, covered with sores and sick and we're never sure if we can cure her, not completely.

I want to speak openly, I want to be brave, but my throat is covered with a bad case of guilt and has been lost for the -perfect- words, and I'm terrified of being dismissed for using the wrong ones

(again).

Sometimes I think I can't help myself, how I feel completely drained after a short workout, how I feel raw-throated, aching, irritable. Maybe right now, I c
So Very BoredI haven`t been this bored
In a considerable amount of years!
I`m sitting at my computer
Nearly in tears!

S`pose you could say
I have a writers block.
This isn`t even funny,
So I`d prefer if you didn`t mock.

I wouldn`t wish this feeling
Upon any me or anyone,
So maybe I`ll just go watch T.V...
Wait! What have I just done?!
Yes We CanI live on the island of Yes We Can,
Where everything is equal and fair.
Here, art is the same as pressing a button,
And beauty is only a knife away.

Here on the island of Yes We Can,
There is no such thing as fat and ugly
There is only beauty and perfection--
All else is done away with quickly.

On this isle of Yes We Can,
No one has heard of this thing, “bullying,”
There is only Correction and those who
Refuse to accept it.

On the island of Yes We Can,
Love is in the air.
Love of money, love of beauty, love of ourselves.
Forget anything or anyone else.

Here on the island of Yes We Can,
There are no such things as favorites,
O
Three Cheers for the DispossessedIn the fading light instead of a feast
We crouch over the crumbs of each others' company.
I don't know that I expected a crowd
But there are a few stragglers here
Even though I don't know their teams or all of their names.
Before I wrote for you.
Molded my soul for your life.
In the breaking of the nighttime hours
When the sun goes red
And my heart beats faster
And I grow sluggish with incomprehension
Wondering what I was doing here in the first place
Or how I could lie to say I had this to give
Or why it ended up in the heap it did
I'm still standing but in a stupor
Looking for the next step caught among the stragglers.
And I won't write for you.
But I will write for all our sakes.
Because streaming before me is this sunset
And a thousand broken promises that I refused to call by that name.
And what little I did give broke apart anyway
In part because I failed and partly because it wasn't all mine to give
Or yours to take.
And for the past five years I've molded my life
Toward somebod
Attention is a love-hate syndrome"She would be so happy," You think, "To see me smile at her."
You don't see the worms of anxiety you put under my skin, burrowing into my fingers, making them twist unnaturally like startled birds, pulling my shoulders around me like a blanket.
You make me ashamed to be pretty.

"I am special. She wouldn't mind if I touched her. It's *me*, after all."
You can't see the hate-marks you leave in my skin, the deep-seated shame carefully installed to let me know I am sullied because another man has touched me, and how steep the slippery slope is.
You make me scared to be pretty.

(My sister once told me I needn't worry about rape because I am too
LSDL
Lovely rainbow tape lightning
And cherry soda rain
The thunder of their laughs
Numbing the pain
S
Skies made of honey
Dirt made of pixie sticks
Oceans of Fanta
As their songs begin to mix
D
Dancing to the lullaby of a dawn since past
Waking to a bed of candy and kin
Realization of what happened hits
To wake to a world where the drugs always win
EscapeIt all comes down to this!!!! We have to believe we can prevail if we don't believe it then before we've even started we fail. Come with us leave earths pull behind, fly with us through the stars for far too long mankind has been trapped on this ball of dirt. The secret to success is to think beyond the confines of what society has taught you leave this box ESAPE!!! That is the desperate cry of all ESCAPE fear, ESAPE doubt, ESCAPE ignorance, ESCAPE the cell of your current understanding!!! Ask questions, demand answers from the universe if you don't do it who will? This is OUR opportunity to do something for our own existence, ignorance be da
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Instinct

:iconirrendernarr42:

What does the young mother think,
When she finally holds the result?

After a moment of total disgrace,
after months of self-loathing,
after houres of pure agony...

What does her mother instinct tell her?
What voice does she hear inside her?

Is it the voice of the strict matron?
"Take it, for the survival of our race!"

Is it the voice of the loving mother?
"Please, it is not the child's fault..."

90

8 20 7
:iconirrendernarr42:

Instinctby ~irrenderNarr42

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I'm just a man, so I really have no idea what choice a women in such a position would make...
©2012-2013 ~irrenderNarr42
Category: Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Urban & Spoken Word

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Submitted on
May 18, 2012
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:iconkartiksharma:
Mood: Love ~kartiksharma May 19, 2012  Student General Artist
Beautiful!!
I love your style of writing now! :) ♥
Reply
:iconirrendernarr42:
~irrenderNarr42 May 20, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
thank you^^
and thanks for the fav.
Reply
:iconlyrajolt:
!LyraJolt May 19, 2012  Student General Artist
Ahhh, I may never been in this postion but, I know how it feels like to act least pretend to be a mother .. It depends on the young mother, some will hate the thought of a child, others might of always wanted one just to love it, I would want to keep it XD but I wouldn't know how this would happen to me if I am waiting after marrige.
Reply
:iconirrendernarr42:
~irrenderNarr42 May 19, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
well...good luck with that then:)
Reply
:iconlyrajolt:
!LyraJolt May 19, 2012  Student General Artist
Good Luck with what :I ? Nothing like that is happening to me, I just had to babysit tons of kids before so I know how it is ~
Reply
:iconirrendernarr42:
~irrenderNarr42 May 19, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
But you DO want children, right? or did i understand that wrong^^
Reply
:iconlyrajolt:
!LyraJolt May 19, 2012  Student General Artist
Yes I do XD Sorry, I just didn't understand what you meant by good luck >~< H3H not one day without confusion
Reply
:iconirrendernarr42:
~irrenderNarr42 May 19, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
that seems hauntlingly familiar^^
Reply
:iconthebloodedrose:
Mood: Sadness ~thebloodedrose May 19, 2012  Student Traditional Artist
thats so sad
Reply
:iconirrendernarr42:
~irrenderNarr42 May 19, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
yeah...
Reply
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