Flockynockynihilipilification - Epic Fail
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Ongoing11m
Last published Fri, May 1, 2015
Some of the worst poems ever written, locked away where no-one should ever ever read them.
*Written by me unless otherwise specified.
"My Poem" is my own version of Simon Armitage's "Poem". It is all about the good and bad things I have done in my life but obviously not as good and less exciting as I'm only young.
Flockynockynihilipilification - Something Worthless
Epic - 1. A long poem, typically one derived from ancient oral tradition, narrating the deeds and adventures of heroic or legendary figures or the history of a nation. 2. Heroic or grand in scale or character
Fail - A grade that is not high enough to pass an examination or test
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poetry with no rhyme or rain most of these r rlly old and embarrassing but im keeping them for the lore
To Be Broken
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𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐢𝐧 ✔️
"𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲, 𝐄𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠." "𝐈'𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐄𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐞. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞. 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐧." This is a story of 2 broken souls who help each other heal. 2 broken souls with hectic lives. But within all the chaos they find comfort in each other. They become each other's rock. But can they hold on to each other despite every obstacle? More importantly can they hold on to themselves? The blooming of a flower of serenity in an ocean full of ugliness. The love story of Sin and Elyse. **warning: heavy subjects are discussed within this story. Trigger warnings- if needed- are given at the beginning of each chapter. **SMUT. SMUT. SMUT. #1 in eroticromance #1 in bestfriendstolovers #4 in romancestories #5 in romancefiction #7 in friendstolovers #6 in bestfriends #11 in saved #10 in childhoodsweethearts #10 in highschool [NOT EDITED] Started: august, 23, 2021 Finished: October, 14, 2021Complete
𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐀 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝
"You're atheist," I remind him. "You don't believe in god." "I believe in you," He murmurs, letting the cigarette hang from his lips. "I believe in whatever you believe." He says, letting the confession roll off his tongue as if it were that simple. As if god, the devil, heaven, hell-as if none of it really had meaning to him. "That's not how it works," I mutter as we walk down a few more alleyways-the city of Manhattan coated in a light blanket of snow. Henry Vitiello had never had anything to pray for, that is, until he met me-the only thing that had ever opened his mind up to the possibility of religion "Isn't it?" He argues, taking the cigarette by his middle and pointer finger before blowing the smoke out. "I'II dip my hands in holy water if it means I could touch you." "You'd probably burn." 𓆩♡𓆪 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎, the reaper. He's a prick. An asshole. A pretentious son of a bitch. He's not perfect. He's not even decent. But he's hers. She could be a bottle labeled poison but he was an alcoholic, and he had drunk her empty. Now he was hungover. 𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒, the healer. She's known to be the perfect good girl, with perfect grades and a perfect life with a perfect family. They didn't know that behind the gated doors of their billion dollar estate, she was strapped down to a chair every night and picked apart just to be put back together in time for supper. 𓆩♡𓆪 star-crossed; adjective (of a person or a plan) thwarted by bad luck. 'star-crossed lovers' and that, they were. So they fucked under those very stars that tried so desperately to break them apart. 𓆩♡𓆪 ‼️DISCLAIMER ‼️ BOOK REFERENCES TO MARA DYER, SHATTER ME, MIND FUCK, ETC ARE ALL INTENTIONAL SO DONT BE RUDE. AS FOR TRIGGER WARN
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