Poetrist
If you are under age 18, ask your parents if this poetry is genius.
Happy Birthday
3000 Days I am old.
6000 Days i was told - My identification on hold.
My mother the same. My brother not born and
even my father watches poor series of a pervert class
telling me "it will pass", while i am alone and they are
never like us. Please send me to Mars or where-ever
i am from! Tell my mother i will get my brother and
tell my father he is wrong, he shell see his pussy
reflecting into his face, i hope it breaks:
3000 pieces, one for every day i feel like from outa space. I hope he bleeds like me. i hope he dies like me. And i hope he tries like me – its not too late.
Happy Birthday Pussy.
Too Easy
It's not my fault, my body is a wreck: hormones dont like my sack: no testosterone, no estrogen, what the hell am i? I am going insane! My voice is high, my penis is small, all i do is looking up, everyone is tall. All i want is all i see, like that apple on that tree, all the good, the sweet, the fun, the love and the joy, but all they see is: a boy.
Years they avoid me, they pass and oversee, i cry so forced to stick to my tree. Until i see: i am the good sister of the bad apple, forced to stick to my tree, forced to purity - i win.
Functioning
Day in, day out, come in, come out,
i do what i can but i cant do anything, i am in pain.
I stare at the screen and work on my thing:
falling in love with those i never been. Why, seriously,
why? Fuck my life, i wanna get high!
But i cant do anything, i am in pain.
Then again i get up, i get down,
i stay down and wait, everywhere is hate.
I lie, i lay, i cry, i stay, then turn around and run away,
like every fucking other needle in the hay.
Why, seriously, how much more
do i have to pay for being...
okay.
Day in, Day out, come in, come out – not today.
Natural
He says he can predict...
i reply "i am sick, leave me be, i gotta go".
"Where" he wants to know.
"Inside a place i built" i throw.
And then what? Exactly, you never believed in God. Neighter did i but i need to survive, so i go inside to scream at him, the guy in the robe, the fat dellusional, the wanna be pope. He forgives me, but i dont, i just love the place, it gives me hope.
I am lost and i am sad, imperfect and maybe bad.
I curse, i fart, i fuck and say: "I AM... Natural!".
"He accepts your pray" Jesus predicts, if only i admit.
He says he can predict...
i reply "i am sick, leave me be, i gotta go".
"Where?" he wants to know. "Inside a place i built" i throw.
"And then what?". Exactly, you never believed in God.
Neighter did i but i need to survive!
So i go inside to scream at him, the guy in the robe, the fat delusional, the wanna-be pope.
He forgives me, but i dont, i just love the place, it gives me hope.
I am lost and i am sad, imperfect and maybe bad.
I curse, i fart, i fuck and say: "I AM... natural!".
"He accepts your pray" Jesus predicts, if only i admit.
Mindblow
Okay, what is this life, this body and this mind?
Am i separated from myself or from the earth? Is it all soft or hard? Is it slow, or fast? Do i have to be the first, or the last? Paradoxes can suck my dick, because no one else is! No one is blowing me but this world, this dream, where is never more, it's only the rest! Unless, i guess, i listen and solve the quest. Okay, I am ready ever-since: i am human, i am waiting! Come on, do it, hit me, flash me, hug me, # me, $ me, gay me!