sexborn-poison

Julia Huynh

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7 deviations

Literature

jazz matazz

chambers of spirtitual, physical energy builds within maybe its physchological faith or maybe its just plain shit call me insane, but i believe there are no limits spellbounded by jazz tunes that re-create the amounts of musical food i consume whispers of thumping basslines that tickle the waves of sound make way because they're comming, and they're comming faster than james bond call me obesse, but i just finished gulping down those buttered rhythms they're now digested in my system ready to bounce of my fathom

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7 deviations

Literature

player hater

the words you spoke made my heart float the actions you created impulses the fractions of time and moments in my life where i would think what is there to live for? i wish i never met you i wish i never knew you i wish all you spoke weren't lies and i wish i never fell for that guy who allowed me to experience the overrated at the end of it all everything in my life are just spaces that fill the nothingness but oddly enough they're contagious time will fly by and you'll seek another target the poor girl will fall into your arms and yet again you've won you will do the same to her as you did with the rest of us then leave us stra

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jazz matazz by sexborn-poison, literature

Literature

jazz matazz

after party by sexborn-poison, literature

Literature

after party

drinking on jet black patterns of fleecy white cotton of bubbly wishful memories that blisters the remainders of today the moon will dance it's sonata and the sun won't go away whispers of fluctuating arms extend to point at whos up for the blames desires of choking cables run through viens of crippled minds as one man stands up and discovers what he's going to find another man stands up and discovers why he's been blind, while you sit there awaiting for something to happen you're chewing on something so splicing like glass you could still smell vapours of smolted iced gas from empty cynlinder bottles of what was once occupied by

Proof by sexborn-poison, literature

Literature

Proof

You free yourself from this biomass charrade of lies and truths and misunderstand the freedom of just being you. Know the limits of life is one to live. Then puke the limits of death just to taste its juice. So you spell those words like your a professional while i'm stuck behind a collage of spoken word poetry like a criminal. Sensor the reality behind closed doors until I dismiss myself from a gradient that's no longer a chore. Use your common system to dictate what life really is to your grave and I shall listen with a bitten lip and a stern ear as I turn away. To see you bathe in sin as I soak my mind in gin makes me remeber ou

Apple Sauce by sexborn-poison, literature

Literature

Apple Sauce

blood trails are the only evidence of our breathing, emotions run fluidly is the only evidence of us being human and reading on depressent magazines that spit out lines like,"it's ok to be alone" tremours the moments of my breaths as i take to look at my life as an empty bowl. looking at lame t-shirts on couples like,"i'm with stupid" triggers my mind to find all the little loopholes. missing money, craving money is the worst feeling when you're hungry. they say to always look at all the good things in life well let me ask you, where did they find a shovel shitty enough to dig up that pitiful line? fuck courageous, sponatenous, and f

apple sauce. pt.2 by sexborn-poison, literature

Literature

apple sauce. pt.2

Minutes strike upon that hour glass and clutches your every breath. Don't you just wish you could take back all those schemes that you have missed? There's nothing here but a few lines of written ink on pale sheets of print. Ok, so i've said that being weak, lonley, and sad is effortless. Well i'll take that back. Its just pure depressing. I've thought about what you all said, and i'll commit. I'll change my ways and look at life in a whole new light, but if i fail i hope you're there to catch me with all your might. If not, i'll have to chew on anti-depressents and listen to the minutes ticking and reminice. Continue to w

release by sexborn-poison, literature

Literature

release

The only satisfaction you know is the lust that you hold within your massive corrupted mind. It punctures your wound of non-loving, so you describe it as you not reiceiving. Well, have you ever thought its not prescribed initially for something so effortlessly pounding, beating, breathing, missing? Kay, let's decorate time with sound. We'll flourish it with embellishments of loud music and things that we could inhale and let things rush with just one puff, have our fun and have our last laughs then pull the trigger to a semi-automatic chamber that releases a fuel engine the size of your palm tainted brain it will fill the void and rele