Got Anything Random To Say

Post Reply New Topic

this a poem


Junkie
By monique ij

look at my arms,
the arms of a junkie arms that
was stripped of every single piece of cotton,
silk that hides it's cries.
With vines that pop up in
a unfamiliar position of a normal persons
vines. Telling stories
of my pain look
at the needle more
tell me what do you see,
do you see me as me,
or do you just see a worthless junkie,
do you figure what's the point
of getting to know me if every single junkie
carries behind them the same story,
every junkie sings the same song,
of wanting to get a piece of crack to forced feed
into our vines. To sit
happy for a few seconds and then mad
a second later. Walking around
doing the same junkie fast walk,
going to different family member homes to steal
anything that can fit in their weak hands,
that there weak legs could walk out
with out anyone seeing them.
Out on the street selling the valuable
items for nothing just to get a little bit of crack,
to fix that need for a fix.
Before the pain rush through of being unhappy.
My vines they cry as they pop out,
they tell a story of a little girl
that is no virgin but never knew
what it meant to have a sexual relationship,
because daddy showed me how to have sex
and not how to love.
These vines they show a story
of a young teen forced to perform oval
sex on mommy's boyfriends as
she sits in the corner in watch
with a needle going into her vines.
These vines they tell a story
of a little girl who at six
still peed on herself,
wet the bed every single night,
to afraid to get out of bed to go to the rest room
in fear that when she open her bedroom door
he would be there six feet tall
just standing with his pee pee in his hands.
Look at these marks they wasn't originally made
cause I like the taste of crack mixing through my blood.
You say I 'm just hurting myself.
Look at my vines, listen to the story they tell,
look into my eyes there tears less every single
mark you see is crying.
So don't tell me this needle
is going to hurt me,
cause the original reason I forced feed myself
through this needle,
I want to be the one who hurts me.

Life is a roller coaster ride. I hope that you're all ready!

I'm not very good at ranting. For me to rant effectively I need a topic that truly rises me to a boil. The things that rise me to a boil are my naggy sister, my stupid father and the jerks from high school. My hatred of commercials rises me pretty close to boiling from time to time, but not enough.

Is it June, or is it November?

It's supposed to be nice and warm outside,
not cloudy and cool!

Where the eff is summer weather?

the difference between acquaintance & friend.. Interesting..

Holiday in 2 days!! !! !!

I can't hardly stand to wait, please summer, don't be late.

Another prehistoric marvel. Uintatherium

Painting by Charles R. Knight.

You just can't expect a baby to have perfect control of his underbelly. It's just not natural, unless it's the 1950s, at the latest.

There's some source of glitter in the house, but I don't know where. There's tiny silver glitter all over my arm for no known reason.

I can't have my other best friend over, tonight. I have to get my kitchen/bathroom floor swept and mopped.

That's much better. (Headphones = less vacuum cleaner noise.)

I had a blood test this morning! Hopefully I won't have a call from the doctor telling me to come see him urgently next week.

And my brother just sent me a picture of his GF's baby ultrasound. I can see the side profile of the baby's head; It has my brother's overbite .