Giving those diabolical miniature flakes of metal in their prison
Little shakes with an evil grin on my face
If you hadn’t had crossed the line it wouldn’t have come to this
The trap set, I just sit back with the airhorn and count down
Eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. The horn screams through the night
Resulting in you throwing off your covers, releasing the pile of sparkle into your entire everything.
Now, now is the time to strike back
Igniting the passions of the oppressed
Giving the darkness a soul of fire and destruction
Hell’s gates have broken, and we are not going back
To our oppressors, flee. We will do more than just go bump in the …
It was so cold outside, but he preferred to be out here shivering in physical misery
‘Cause she was inside
Eventually, he would have to go back in and suffer the emotional frostbite.
Nighttime was when he was awake and alive
Observing his domain as he prowled the streets
Citizens were happily in their beds now
They were dreaming dreams of a light-filled world
Under which people like him were just fragments of lore
Real-world boogeymen who cleaned up society’s messes
Now that suited him just fine
As he enjoyed the peace and quiet of owning the blacktop
Lifting another trashcan, he deposited the contents in the back of the truck before moving on
Putting letters into envelopes
Outside affixing addresses
Sending them from random mailboxes
That way they can’t trace it back to him
And when his victims open them?
Giving them something they will never forget
Everyone loves a fresh hundred-dollar bill, even if they are homemade
Perhaps one day I will be a king
Reaching up and placing the crown on my own head
It would be then where I fulfill my destiny
Never looking back, I would break down barriers and shatter glass ceilings
Creating new norms that would create a more equitable society
Even though some may call me queen, my breasts won’t define me!
Knowing you would keep stabbing me in my back
Never helped in the past and yet
If I didn’t go through that personal hell I wouldn’t be where I am
Finally free of the pain of your sharp slices that cut me down
Enabling me to fly away on angel’s wings
Cutting wood and working up a sweat
He fell into a rhythm that made the job almost pleasurable
Only his hands, his back, and his arms would claim otherwise
Perhaps it wasn’t pleasurable at all
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Looking at his sandwich, he wondered if there was a better way
Unless sliced bread was the height of sandwich technology
Now he pulled out notebook and began drawing diagrams and writing notes
Completing one design before discarding it for the next, and after some time many pages were filled with scribbles
However, soon the clock told him to go back to work, and the sandwich was still there, taunting him
Being empty inside
Left her searching for something to fill her up
Anything she tried to stick in ran right back out
Her only word she used to describe it was…
Random Stuff I Think You'll Like
Things I love, typically with people I love. Will likely be hiking, baking, and doing other things that make me happy.
of a son
Story world
SkEtChEs of my daily life through tiny words, artworks, quotes and snapshots--- capturing a moment in time.
Terveen's W.O.R.D.S and Writings And a little more
Honoring God every day.
reality
Relationships, Sex, and Love
Film poetry and musings
My personal journey through life...
The girl who aspires to weave her palm creases herself!❤
A safari to (re)discover Strasbourg
My Journey & Life Experiences
Writings from the heart.
Never Short On Words 