Blanks.

crownq:

I’m at such a complacent state in my life that all of my words sound bland. None of it contain the emotions and mystery it once had. I miss the levels of complexity of the thoughts that circulated my mind at the oddest hours. Now I’m just an empty well and my thoughts are among the most ordinary. My goal is to be able to blatantly, but eloquently, express every emotion known to man on paper (or Internet). It really is difficult to bathe everybody in my words about bliss because nobody will ever be able to wrap their minds around it or I’ll never be able to express it in the way I want to.

agony-of-thai:

I like to chase after cold women, it’s almost as if I enjoy their company as they stick knives in me or some shit.

(Source: cloying)

schoomschoom:

How did your brain come up with that? Which two neuro-chemicals in your brain suddenly commit incest to conceive that sin of a thought? 

Which part of your fking heart pumped enough blood to muster enough courage and ignorance to FEEL it was alright to say that shit?

When did your tongue accustom itself with such filth? Do you know your words roll off your tongue recklessly like snowballs? In your case, shitballs. Shitballs that gain speed, momentum, guilt, emotion, and prejudices. Do you know that these words lack control? They lack discipline; therefore, they spiral downwards into the process of procession. They leave imprints in the landscape I call impression. They continue to roll until stopped, having caught itself on something immovable. Can you see the irreparable damage it has left behind its wake? Wake up. 

Do you think of what you say afterwards? Explain yourself. 

jhayjhaythejetplane:

You call yourself a poet?
Let us engage in spoken word warfare.
I’ll be the armageddon in physical manifestation,
you’ll be the soldier unarmed, defended only by your skin
and your salvation from sin.
Here’s a bullet from my weapon of mass destruction,
can your religion put off your damnation
when the projectile pierces your skin?
Will your deity accept your penance to free you from sin?
Fools, fools all around us.
Fools disguised as good samaritans, fools that act
as if their words were truth,
and all else are lies
but when your words are stagnant and redundant,
who would believe your amateur rhymes?

Only those who bathe in stupidity
would state that there is only one solution.
Don’t you realize it yet, pseudo-poet?
We, as humans, hold the key to our very salvation.
You say love is a fairytale and we all worship sex,
but your rhymes ain’t complex, they just lack context
because religion may be a fairytale to some.
Yet you deny them the freedom of choice,
you deny them of their voice
so here’s our united shout from the whispers you silenced.
Here’s the final blow
that will send you to your proposed maker.
If his existence is real,
then will he guard your idiotic endeavors?

Armorless warrior, you are but a fool in the eyes of god.
Striving to fight in a nonexistent crusade,
making those in limbo into disbelievers.
We are god. We are religion. We are the church,
we command our own legions.
We need not no book, we need not no deity.
We are feared by all, we are
humanity.