Unrequited Love

“Unrequited Love”

That’s it! We’re through!
You’ve let me down for the last time!
You promised so much, but delivered so little.
I poured my heart out to you.
I trusted you to cherish my words and keep them safe.
But you tossed them out as though they never existed.
Over and over again I gave you another chance.
Time and again, I was willing to start over.
You taunted and teased me. You led me to believe you’d stay.
Those with an opinion said, “Give it a chance, it’ll work out”
But some said, “Forget it, go back to what’s familiar and comfortable”
I took a chance on you and you failed me.
But this time I saw it coming.
I noticed the same telltale signs. The erratic behavior.
The slow responses to my requests. So I readied myself for the crash.
This time I outsmarted you. I was prepared.
I stole everything and hid it where you’d never find it.
So where am I now?
Shall I go back to the old, familiar and reliable?
It’s true my choices are few and limited.
I thought I once loved you Vista, but you’ve forced me to go back to XP.

~Eliza Valenzuela-Carr    ©2008

My Inner Child Is A Mean Little F**ker!

 My mommy never loved me….

She slept around, got drunk.

My neighbor took some pics of me.

He said I was a punk .

I got so fuckin’ angry,

I killed the cat next door.

I wore my mommy’s panties.

Set fire to a store. 

I’m really not a monster.

I’ve never been the same.

Since my daddy left me.

My inner child’s to blame.

 

 

I Told You I Love Leftovers! So Here’s A Poem By Malia Ann…

I’m posting this poem written by a lovely, talented lady by the name of Malia Ann. Please be sure to link to her blog:  http://maliaann.wordpress.com

   

 LEFTOVERS

 

I’m here behind the sofa

quiverin’ and twitchin’,

I’m hiding from what Mom is

cooking in the kitchen.

 

It’s food that’s been leftover

from the dinners that we’ve had,

But I don’t recall them smelling

nearly quite this bad.

 

I’m choking and I’m gagging.

The fumes are everywhere.

I think it might smell worse than

some moldy underwear.

 

The dog has packed and moved out.

So have the cat and mouse.

I even saw the garbage man

go running past our house.

 

The stink is getting stronger.

Sister’s passed out on the floor.

Dad has grabbed his car keys

and he’s dashing out the door.

 

Oh those leftovers are nasty.

I’m still shivering in fear.

But at least we have to have them

only once a year.

 by Malia Ann Haberman

Parasite

 

I wrote this during my “angry period” after the end of a recent relationship. I’m not angry anymore, more like indifferent, but I still like the poem.

 

How dare you call yourself  human. 
You are a parasite.
You live and feed off your victims, contributing nothing in return. 
You are a bottom feeder. 
You lurk in the depths of hell and feed off the hopes, dreams and naivete of the innocent and the sinless. 
You continue to pick at the bones when the flesh is long gone then run off with the carcass so there is nothing left to bury. 
You’ve fooled many. 
I among them. 
You morph effortlessly so no one catches on. 
But when you’ve made your final transition it’s far too late to avoid the inevitable death of another soul.