Oh how bittersweet,
The way you hold me-
Only long after i cried, in defeat,
Cold vanilla coffee
-
Oh how you toy with your prey
A roof over my head? How generous.
Hold it over my head, and tell me that I must defray
Now tell me how I'm treacherous
-
Always hated how you never finished your coffee
Now i drink mine like I'm grown
Does it, too, remind you we're all faulty,
When you look me down upon your throne?
-
Funny how you guide my independence
Yet threaten to cage me when i spread my wings
''How rebellious, you lack common sense''
You're right, I'm sorry mommy, I'll stick to rusted swings
-
And like 2 peas in a pod,
Oh how easy your words twist the knife
Each one frozen in my heart, unthawed
And oh how quick i am to 'ruin' your life
-
I will admit, i still hate this bittersweet brew.
It quickly turns cold, and it reminds me of you,
But i know ill continue to drink it, even if i splutter
For in the end, blood will always be thicker than water.
Imitation of Life
They clap for the enactment, never knowing
The actor/actress forgot their own identity long ago.
One smiles the smile the script is showing,
A toy with nowhere else to proceed.
The Imitation breathes, it bleeds, it charms- but
The authentic one expired somewhere in one's arms, strangled by the need to be what they see, as that looks real, but just an Imitation of life
I twist what you think that you already know,
I stretch you to soaring, shrink you to low,
I ripple your outline and widen your grin,
I toy with the edges that hold you within,
I flicker each time as you slip into view,
I dance with the shape that you think is you,
You laugh at the stranger I help you become,
I’m a thief of your shape till at last you succumb,
You ask what I am as I alter your frame—
The carnival mirror—I play the same game.
I would never be understood by any man
I can't put up a pretense of who I am
I'm very simple and want very little
But they can't seem to handle my mental
I'm not sure if the rejection would cause me to change
I'm not sure I'm appreciated or want to remain the same
I could try to be that average woman for that average man
Wrapping them around my finger and screaming demands
Just take everything for granted including their pride
Take every moment as a joke and just go along for the ride
Playing head games and toy with them while leading them with lies
Treating them like a puppet for what's between the thighs
No one seems to like or want the person I am within
Sincerity and Faithfulness just flows beneath my skin
Do I need to change the person I am just to be accepted
I'm tired of being misunderstood and getting my emotions affected
It's only so many females like me that are left in this world
Who request from you little or nothing just to be your girl
If I start to come off different, it's the men I'm going to blame
You're the reason I doubt myself and wonder if I need to change.
Oh, Kitty cat, you are at once docile and daring
You prowl the night in search of some prey
With soft steps, as you stealthily cross the doorway
You never meow and into the dark you boldly stray
Our home with its premises is your domain
With glowing eyes that are cold as ice,
I often see you padding up and down the corridor
Looking for some unsuspecting mice
At the end, you come up with some tiny thing
And enjoy tossing it between your paws
Flicking your tail and darting up and down,
You toy with it lifting and dropping it from your jaws
Seeing what you have brought home today
I stay so shocked, petrified and breathless
Instead of a mouse, you have carried a snake inside
Proudly placing it before me like a victor fearless.
My Kitty cat, you are both sweet and fierce
How fast, from a dove, you turn into a whiskered brat
Though I enjoy all your daring deeds and feats
I don’t want to see you growing over smart.
Always at attention,
Giving us lessons,
Angels toy with aggression,
A session of healing,
Revealing a weakness,
Peeking inside,
So we decide to react right,
A sight to be treasured,
As your emotions get measured,
A pleasure in the victory,
Angels always stand ready,
Helping to steady the helm,
As storms rip through the realm,
Elements of light,
Fighting for our delight,
Carry us through a dark night.
the long-lost plush toy with ill intent
somehow had been shoved into the attic’s vent
his face was scarred, his teeth were creepy
I could not relax that night, though I was sleepy
I kept thinking he was going to get an axe
then sneak upstairs and kill me and Max
Max is my cousin who has no sixth sense at all
He slept soundly, while I listened for sounds in the hall
Nowadays I'm a semi-recluse.
often, I feel the need to retreat,
reverse yet further
into a temporary nest
of a woolgathering and
imprecise brain.
It is feather-fluffing time,
time to watch squirrel's scamper
over a slack jawed presence,
to ogle thoughts from afar
as they fuzzily forage
after each other.
A wide Walnut tree,
spreads out of my imagination,
furry paws toy with cracked visions
in their nutshells.
Nobody here, nobody phoning or
knocking,
Just a crow cawing on a branch
which might be (in truth) my right arm.
That limb always was the most
social
and gregarious part of me -
I often talk to myself with it.
The whooshing of threadbare curtains cuts through deadening silence,
while shadows on the wall toy with a hermit's sanity.
The graze of unseen, jagged fingernails scrapes against sweaty flesh,
injecting poison into subcutaneous tissue,
unwieldily setting the stage.
A heaviness of humid, stale air presses down on compressed lungs,
as maniacal laughter bounces off cracked ceilings.
Buzzing flies circle, swooping down
just to taunt—then vaporize into nothingness.
Muttering voices cling to the inside of a failing cranium,
overtaking a discarded soul, slowly stripping away morality.
Irises blacken, then return to sapphire, before blackening again.
Sitting, rocking back and forth with arms wrapped around legs,
speaking in tongues—
the transformation has begun.
A shattered will; possession seems inevitable.
Fighting feels increasingly hollow.
The smothering venom accelerates.
Chattering crescendos
until your body becomes complete chaos,
and what's left of your soul is trapped within a cage,
locked deep inside the pits of demonic despair.
Ain’t Gonna Go To Hell For Anybody by Dylan
I find your lines like wine
Making me drunk with love
You toy with my mind
And I’m infatuated enough
But when I think about it
I cool off and pray with faith
Sex and lust is lousy
If you don’t love me God’s way
It’s better to marry
Than to burn like fire
Real love is carried
In red heart of desire
I know we can fool around
And likely have a good time
But hell is a long way down
I don’t want to lose the divine
The love I deserve
The love I desire
Found in holy word
Not from the pit of fire
I’m not going to hell
For any one over flesh
I’d be just as well
Waiting for true happiness
I ain’t gonna go to hell
For anyone no sir not me
God has a plan and well
I’d rather belong to Thee
Trying, tripping, tanking, toil,
Typical of my intellect’s termination.
Trinkets are tied to incompetence,
those are the twisted tips of my mother.
As I travel closer to toe the top,
I toy with the seconds that tick by.
there is an end
repetitive engaged
newer orders
where we come from
is where nothing returns
the service of birth
to not come home
on foreign soil
only to war
only for war was i thought of
this one will not win
this strategy of me
a world
they enjoy and toy with me you will
toil till death does its part with you
you tend to my munitions
i confer and advance
you engaged me
and again i gain ground
no fence?
know fence
no place
mine
handless land, crawling
time honored minute, non traditional
warfares itself upon the service
none shall attend
being built in a bottle
speak
2024.12.24 Christmas Eve.
Dear Santa,
I admit, I have been naughty this year,
Still, here is my wish list.
A train set to keep my heart closer to my father.
A cleanable white board to Live Chat with my mother.
A battery operated sound box,
Which can record and say my word every time I want it.
Some metal boxes to keep my USB and SSD as storage.
A plush toy with a monkey face,
Who apparently has been my best mate.
Every day, I sit at the desk to surf on the internet,
May I have a surf board, to surf in the sea and get wet.
With my current family situation,
I really need some miracles and good imaginations,
A book full of tricks will be fantastic.
Better still, if I inherited some magic will be perfect.
Love from B66.
Steel Ruler
My steel ruler, Mr I Will
Toy With Your
Affections, passed away
last Wednesday. The doctor said it was a
severe, sudden disease that
was going around that got her. At her funeral in
the backyard I sung to
her her favourite vowels i and v, then I
confessed for her to be the
Cheese Stick snatcher. My stationary wept, then I
supervised, judged, a
celebration adagio that was
secretly a
competition. Of course, the ones whom didn’t move
slowly were
automatically OUT! And the winner was:
Mr Hole Puncher. No prize was given. Who placed
2nd? Well, in
my mind there’s
no 2nd.
The Ivory Tower
the talk of the city,
a seat of power,
in want of pity,
the clueless lack words,
add adjective stirs,
queues belated verbs,
a scheme to wreck,
your human nerves,
guesswork's an illusion,
stall tactics delusion,
your decency challenged,
you're thrown off-balanced,
and insecure is definitely assured,
they have control,
your life they own,
like a cat, they'll toy with you
they'll tear you up and enjoy the view
till you're one of them,
... a child of the damned,
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