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Nature's WayLooking out of his head, lying in bed
Early summer morning, sun far from dawning
Starlight, heaven's sight, glitters above
Persistent contemplation, surfacing mental masturbation
One soul, plight unknown, by the winds blown
Feeble mind, pen in hand, paper's echoing demand
Trio of friends, long before, ignorance closed that door
Squeaky hinges, decayed with rust, learn new found trust
Could this be, reunited, yesterday's wrongs righted
Possibly, not so simple, scars, life's dimple
Not to be removed by a handshake today, nor things to say, nature's way
Accenting the smile, inside each child, soul worthwhile
Feeble mind, words to find, ink flows, no rewind
Together, move ahead, page returns from the dead
Clearing of soul's idle jabber before its clabber
Lighten load, remove soul rot, feeble mind can't remember, ink and page never forgot
CluelessWhat part of "I'm done." did you not understand?
You and your endless stream of lies are no longer interesting.
You bore me to tears. I'd rather attempt a conversation with a fucking telephone pole than endure another second of your made up horseshit.
Did "I don't care." get lost in the barrage of insults you're screaming at me or the putrid mush between your ears?
Your opinions of me are of lesser value than a pint of cold piss.
In fact, I couldn't be more proud that I failed to meet the requirements on your list.
You have been nothing more than an expensive waste of my time.
Once upon a time I'd have drank your bath water just to kiss your ass.
Now, I'd sooner jackoff with a cocklebur mitten than touch you.
Shall I repeat another point that's lost in your pretentious tangent berating my very existence?
"I don't want you here."
Not only do I have no desire for you to be here, I don't want you at all.
Do you think patronizing me with your sweet sexy talk is going to work, a
Freelance Pleasure ProviderWhat's your pleasure?
Would a night on the town, dinner and dancing, tickle your fancy?
Could you get lost in a quiet candlelight evenin' far from the hustle and bustle of the metro? Or possibly some combination of the two would whet your pleasure palette?
Maybe you're not entertained by the thoughts of the same old same?
Was it thoughts of a sensual massage by strong, calloused hands that made your nethers perspire?
Or does a caring, listening ear and broad shoulders on which to rest your weary head revive the butterflies of your inner schoolgirl?
Your pleasure provider awaits your call.
Will you not be satisfied by usual vanilla servicing?
Might it be that you long to be pleasurably pillaged for hours on end?
Does formal attire and intelligent conversation leave you wanting?
Would your needs be better met if you're physically devastated with a tenderness that you'd not believed humanly possible before you experienced it for y
Letters To Pretentious Pukes From A Pompous PrickLetters to Pretentious Pukes From a Pompous Prick
Good evenin', fellow dickheads and assholes.
Shall we ALL go fuck ourselves? Nah. That's been overdone already, eh?
It leaves me with a feeling of emptiness that reminds me of the hollow feeling that accompanies the dehydration and assorted strawberries that are the rewards I'm privileged enough to be blessed with after pleasuring a used up coke whore for 8-12 hours.
Perspiration being the only bodily fluids lost from my system, aside from miniscule bloodloss.
What can I say? I get lost in my "work", man.
Well, now... *lightbulb* Hmmmm... Upon spilling that babble onto the page, I realize something.
WHY is it that I'm not being compensated for services rendered? Seriously.
Excuse any arrogance in the tone of the following:
(or fucking blow me, I don't care) Th
Answered Prayers?Struggling to breathe
Forcing air into my lungs in shallow breaths
Dizziness comes in spells that leave me disoriented
Stumbling through my house like a drunk, though I've not had a drop in years
Goose bumps proceed excruciating chest pains
Breathing becomes a nearly impossible privilege
Could it be the gods finally have seen fit to end this tortured existence?
I light up a smoke and resume my prayer vigil
To whomever shall listen:
"I don't want to live any longer in this physical plane. Bring this miserable excuse for a life to an end and let no one remember my name."
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More