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familiar bloodscent.
Aziel

choking on that scent
 1
hidden behind your ear
 2
sweet, smoky potpourri,
 3
disarmingly delicious,
 4
it enveloped my senses
 5
and sent it to me
 6
with a two cent stamp
 7
three weeks later
 8
 
 
my untied sneakers
 9
still dangle
 10
from barked harshness
 11
while fanatical endeavors
 12
based on withered memory
 13
leave me with
 14
ashy, knobby knees
 15
that your moist lipped kisses
 16
can no longer cure
 17
 
 
those very sneakers
 18
had slammed against gravel
 19
running full speed into
 20
the stinging understanding
 21
of what was
 22
and
 23
what will be
 24
 
 
i used to enjoy
 25
every snicker
 26
the embers now consume,
 27
now angry, hushed,
 28
the taste of breath
 29
against pressured tongues
 30
is the icing on the cake
 31
though the writing on the wall
 32
will always be the cherry
 33
taunting me,
 34
on the verge of bullying
 35
 
 
i took it personally
 36
delving into myself
 37
for the strength you took with you
 38
while parts of me harangued
 39
for retribution
 40
 
 
inhale
 41
exhale
 42
rinse, repeat until the obsession subsides
 43

21 Jun 08

Rated 10 (9) by 1 users.
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Inactive (2): 8, 9

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Comments:

wow. such a strong poem. keep up the great work
 — onyx12098

Rage is life, wild, the fire of a thousand shunts driving you against someone who must be destroyed.
 — Cerulise

I love fortune cookies. ;D
 — Aziel

obsessions never subside, they just refocus.
 — raskolniikov

I'm realizing that slowly.  Thank you.
 — Aziel

RAGE IN [T]HIS AGE | AGE IN [T]HIS RAGE
fractalcore

against the machine
we stomp we kick
ass we imagine
of those we loath

we drop a penny a quarter
a dime, damn dozen
no water for the thirst

run for life or run
for position --
what's the point?
what's in or the
question?

public face, integrity
always a collition
pub[l]ic hair unkempt
or otherwise

no votes for no reason
be wise.


written 07/05/08
http://poetrycritic al.net/read/49268/
thanks, Aziel.
: )
 — fractalcore

make that


RAGE IN [T]HIS AGE | AGE IN [T]HIS RAGE
fractalcore

against the machine
we stomp we kick
ass we imagine
[of] those we loath

we drop a penny a quarter
a dime, damn dozen
no water for the thirst

run for life or run
for position --
what's the point?
what's in or the
question?

public face, integrity
always a collition
pub[l]ic hair unkempt
or otherwise

no votes for no reason
be wise.


written 07/06/08
http://poetrycritic al.net/read/49268/
thanks, Aziel.
: )
 — fractalcore

great poem, btw.
sorry about my doodles.
: )
 — fractalcore

[loath should have an "e" at the end.]
: )
 — fractalcore

:3 No problem, I enjoyed your doodles.
 — Aziel

iiiiiiii eye candy
 — Liliana

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