fugly-fruit

I'm a little crackpot, short and stout! Here are my fake boobs, here is my gout! When I get all steamed up hear me shout! Turn me over and f*ck me out! I'm a horny crackpot, yes it's true! Let me show you what I can do! You can f*ck my pussy and my crack Just turn me over and I'll lick your sack!

Author's Notes: After so many months of hating this specific person, I decided to write a poem to rid myself of rage. If you're wondering why "stiff" it was because she commented that I dance like a rock. I hope you guys like it! Hate Poem to dear Bridgette I drown in a sea A sea of hate, burning my soul My anger fuels me to live In living, it leads me to kill Death hangs in the air, looming so ominously One little push and you'll be there Slowly falling into a bottomless pit of despair I am like a bottle, so full of emotion With you laughter and smiles, giggles and rhymes I seethe, resisting the urge to slit your throat Yet you c

Death Poem to Bridgette You're dead, how joyful Yet your friends seem so mournful "They're next, you know…" I say to your grave Here I am at your funeral, but inside I prance and rave "Aren't you glad? I'll kill them all One by one, I'll make them fall Then you won't be so lonely rotting in hell Dear Bridgette, I mean you only well…" There they are weeping and grieving Little do they know I comfort them seething Oh how I plan to torture them 'til they scream Yes, that be a bone-chilling dream How I'd love to wring their pretty necks To burn their flawless skin To pluck their dazzling eyes To purge their lovely figures Their a

Farewell dear Bridgette Here ends my dedication to you dear Bridgette As writing these poems grow tiresome and even start to bore With every word, every rhyme, I had poured in my hate For me to add or to erase, it is rather too late I doubt you remember what enraged me as so But it is better it you shall never really know Keeping this grudge keeps me down and in pain So it is time to stop pretending, time to stop this charade I absolutely loathe you, your being, your essence Given a chance I would kill you with no hesitance At least it would end this long time longing To slowly slit your throat, yes, that is my calling But I cann

How Love Turned to Hate There you were strutting down the hall And somehow that made my heart fall Or maybe it was the way you ruffled your hair Or the way you seemed not to care Or the way you flashed your mega-watt smile Whatever it was, it made my heart rile I was so stupid back then, a sight to see A fool of love, yes that was me Love, the bitch, had blinded me from the truth Unable to see, it led me to pain and suffering I was such a dunce to think that I had a chance I was so enthusiastic, I'd jump and prance I'd shut my eyes to the fact you were such a prick But I am to blame, that was my pick I thank the curse of fate

AN: The title is "testimonies" because at the start of the story Riley was reading Alina's testimonies on her friendster page. When i wrote this story, friendster was a big hit.... Riley's POV Perfect… That's the word to describe him… Why did I even develop this feeling for him… Of all the men… I just had to pick a guy in a perfect relationship… I sigh while disconnecting from the net. Maybe reading Alina's testimonials was a bad idea… I just wanted to find out what she's like beside N's rants… All he'd say is "Alina? She's so perfect!!!" or "She's so sweet!" or even worse, "I can never imagine my life without her…" Well, I was greeted

Testimonies Chapter II POV of Ice Riley… I wonder why you've been avoiding me lately? I don't recall doing anything bad to you. Have I hurt your feelings somehow? No use worrying about it… It won't get him to notice me again… I open the door to the office and drop my bag on the meeting table. Slumping into one of the many chairs, I notice Riley's bag is on one of the chairs. Is he here? I slowly make my way to one of the many doors leading into smaller rooms. With my 2 years in the council, I don't even know why the office has so many little rooms. Maybe it's for private meetings of something, or maybe it's used to snog your gir

Turn up the radio, what do you hear? Some sentimental fool who can't sing, but only brings tears Oh how can I forget, the time is near That inane day that comes only once a year It's Valentine's Day, isn't that great? But to be honest it brings me only hate Seeing couples who like to kiss and touch In terms of though, I must say they don't have much When they are too busy flirting and groping They do not realize people around them are hurting They probably don't know when they flaunt their so-called love, puking is a must Especially when they share their sickening gazes of lust Little do they know, seeing them is such a scorn So