Please Love ME.please
Written by Jacob Ibrag Single knock. They know it’s us. No need for extra, they’ve been waiting a while. I’m supposed to do something that’s been due for some time. Problem is I don’t know what they want or how to go about in asking them. Pushed into the center, they’ve been wanting a while. Waiting […]
I’ve been dislocated so many times. Mentally and physically and it hurts beyond what you can fucking believe. When I was born, I learned to shut up or get busted in my goddamn face. My sanity has been lost so many times and I’ve wished I could die so many more. My life has been destroyed to unrecognizable shards over and over and there is no guarantee it won’t happen again.
All I have to show for it is loneliness. Isolation is my comfort and reward. I see their pictures all the same. Happy families. They got that fucking snatch when that’s all that mattered and now they have the love secure if they want that too. The snatch comes from love, affection, respect, fear, pity and very few had those for me. I am no better and no worse than anybody else so my soul is a fucking evil core.
Whatever mask I wear or how my life looks from the outside it just doesn’t fucking matter. You cry out and you cry out and nobody helps or comes near. And you cry out and cry out alone. You help everyone or you put out the hate and it doesn’t matter. Another night alone. Another life. You put your thoughts on the line and your heart and your goddamn pain and art and it goes unnoticed so you keep drinking and dying inside and you don’t know why. How am I different than everyone else? I didn’t think I was a bad person but I must be to deserve this waking death beating me down telling me I’m worthless and not worth the love I have.
I don’t want the family life, but I wish I had the choice. The family is just proof that someone loved you enough or hated you too. I fought so long for someone to care for but I’m giving up because I accept I am a prick and that’s not in my book. It’s always been that way for me and that’s how it will always be. That’s why I’m not afraid to dive deep and fly high and let it all go. Nothing to lose except a full belly and bed, but without companionship, what’s the point. A bullet to the mind. A bullet to the soul.
Written by Jacob Ibrag ‘I won’t keep you. Take what you need.’ The taste of implosion, a fluid symphony. Transference. Backs to one another. Embrace ridden with escape. Beautiful getaway. Peeking back years later, butterfly wing what ifs. ‘What could’ve been. We could have, and didn’t.’ Photography by Lauren Grayson
Do you ever read a poem? And reread a poem? And you still don’t know what the fuck it is about or have any kind of emotional response to it at all? And at the same time you see that it has hundreds of likes and comments from people trying to ride the coattails of a successful blogger by jerking everything off? Well this is that poem!
Enjoy the unartistic ambiguity. Notice the bland imagery and the arrogant, but terrible word choice. Bon Appetit!
The Herpes Addict has been following this particular blogger for quite awhile now under several different monikers and we just might be blessed with another gold covered turd of a poem for next weeks edition of most overrated poems unless someone else can step up to the plate!
We were all by the fire
But I didn’t know anybody but darkness
But I felt
Everyone is fucked up
There is a clown that I remember from earlier
He’s much worse at night
And a clown
I can’t see them because my glasses were smashed in the pit
But I can hear them talking about candy and chocolate bars
I ask the quiet guy I just smoked a bowl with what they mean
He smirks and tells me it’s feces
And we both know this is all ridiculous
But then he leaves and I’m all alone
Dark, blurry and so alone
With drunk men, drunk woman and a clown
And they are all teasing and fighting
And there are talks of touching boners and candy and chocolate bars
But I’m thirsty so I ask someone for help
And he teases me and leads me down a dark path to water
And back to my chair by the fire
He got a black eye in the pit
And he lets me know it too
Everyone is turning lights off
And he wonders aloud what the fuck they are doing at five in the morning
With the lights off
And I do too
But I know
And the boy with the fro keeps bringing me weed and it makes me feel safe again
Until I get too tired and there is nobody to talk to
And then I go try to sleep in the car and not throw up
At the crack of dawn I turn the engine on
Drive through the grass
Drive through the town
Blind except for colors
I come to the highway
Left or right?
I choose right
I was correct
I know a lot of you guys wanna rag on Amy Schumer all day by calling her a fat pig and joke stealer but I think you might be being a little too hard on her. I found this picture of her to show she was once doable and I don’t think it’s a big deal to “steal” jokes. Who can own a fucking joke? And if you do what you want with the premise it shouldn’t matter.
People do covers of songs and that’s okay but it’s not okay to use a joke that has probably been repeated for years on end? Comedians need to stop being whiny, little bitches. The joke isn’t yours. What you do with it is yours. Joe Rogan needs to stop smoking grass and pcp and shut his mouth.
Would you rather go through an entire lifetime as a virgin without a boyfriend or girlfriend and an otherwise good life or would you rather have as much puss/dick as you want and be cut in half for a day unto death? And why?
Did you ever notice that if you have a douche bag friend on facebook, other douch bags you know will comment on that persons page a lot.
Originally posted on The Lithium Chronicles: I have God in my words and the devil in my ear, and a sister, who keeps telling me to find my magic. © Nicole Lyons 2017