Howling Madly

wolfbittenpoet · 05-14-2011, 08:43 AM

I carress you
My fingertips tracing your curves
Loving the sounds you make for me
I smile and inhale
Heady with your scent
You work so hard to help me
I stroke you
Calling out the best of us both
I praise you
Until it is late in the night and we are both exhausted
I curse you
When you run dry of essense at awkward moments
I worship you
My midnight mistress
I fear for the day you fail me
For how will I be a typewriter boy without you
You are my beauty
My battered ancient goddess of print
My Typewriter Lover

wolfbittenpoet · 05-15-2011, 01:10 PM

Smelling of stale cigarettes and despair
Whiskey label somehow permanently adhered into front
Scribbles in margins
Stains of ink and graphite smudges
Humorless remarks
Not a study copy but a work of desperate madness
Blood on the edges from paper cuts
Can almost hear the hiss of a curse as the pages flip
Discard it discard it discard it
Yet still it circulates
Like a battered 1938 penny
Worn by time and rubbed smooth by nervous fingers
Read it lost as much in margin additions as original text
Is this what madness looks like
Or is this what inspiration becomes

wolfbittenpoet · 05-15-2011, 04:47 PM

Fingertips stained with ink from broken ballpoint pen
A mess of blue black on the desk
I want to paint swirls on the decades old calendar
But no that's childish
I am childish
So I scrawl spirals until the ink dries
I scrub at my hands until only ghosts of ink remain
Like some cleaned up Celtic warrior
Is it so wrong I want to drag the ink across my skin
Painting the designs of the gods of battle
To go off and face grocery store fascists
And green market madmen
I close my eyes and simply breathe

wolfbittenpoet · 05-15-2011, 07:17 PM

My tongue flicks out
Salty sweat clinging to my upper lip
Fear and shame in the drops
I push the door open
It is 90 degrees out
And I wear combat boots
For am I not going to war
Jeans splattered with mud and flecks of rusty blood
Torn out at the knees from rough asphalt
Heavy leather studded belt
A backup defense
And layers
Layers to hide that I am not what I seem
Layers to be armor
Body armor misery
On top is heavy hooded sweatshirt
Everyone knows my secret
The teachers scream it everyday
Except for a few that see the desperation in my eyes
And say my last name instead
That's safe enough
But after school and in halls I am freak
Faggot Flaming Fairy Queer
Those who yell it most I see it in their eyes
Disgust...at themselves
Because they like what they see
So I take it
Don't go to the locker when anyone is about
Don't want locker door bruises
From heads bashed into door so fast
Broke two pairs of glasses last year
Finish the day walk out
They wait till I am off the grounds and halfway home
Lay in wait to beat me up
After a while I give as good as I get
No one will ever admit they are beat up by a girl
I wish they'd say I was who broke their nose
Least then they'd accept I am not a girl
Go home bruised and bloody
Nurse the hurts
Grin around the pain
Mom says we can find another school
Dad doesn't even know too lost in his own pain
I just shake my head
A day at a time armored and ready to go
Because at least in this school I know who to punch
And who to simply smile at
Because I am a teenage freak who is happy no longer being meek

-A memory of teenage angst

wolfbittenpoet · 05-16-2011, 06:30 PM

Am I mad
Is this hell that I reside
A horrible torturous suffering
Meant for some past life self
Am I dieing
We are all dieing some faster then others
Most days I feel as if I am dieing by inches
Am I screaming
I can't hear myself but I know I should be
Yet no sound ever ever escapes
Am I drowning
In life in death in hell
If I am do I go to heaven
Does the hurt ever stop?

wolfbittenpoet · 05-17-2011, 05:55 PM

There is a mad symmetry
In the way the words fall across the page
As the click,click,click of keys rings in silence
But for the melting of the ice in the glass on desktop
And the sound of the cat's soft snores on the bookshelf
Occasionally mosquito buzz near half deaf ears
Advance the page a steady rhythm builds
Tap, tap, tap
Finish page
Scratching pen correcting typos
toofast forgot the spaec
Dyslexic mind doesn't catch all the misspells
Will find them later when brain less fuzzy
click, click, click nother page beneath the keys
scratch scratch scratch like the leaves in the breeze

wolfbittenpoet · 06-09-2011, 10:42 AM

Hot sweaty therapy
We have fucking Therapy
Urge to be seen as who we are
You on my cock
Happy fagboi
Seen as beautiful handsome boy
Willing to bottom for me
Therapy session on the floor
You call me handsome hot hard hunk
You've had surgery I have not
But you don't treat me like a freak
You bite and scratch
We walk away bruised and at peace
Therapy hookup
I've got your number until next year

05-14-2011, 08:43 AM	#1
wolfbittenpoet Member How Do You Identify?: Typewriter Boy Preferred Pronoun?: He Relationship Status: Single Join Date: Sep 2010 Location: FL Posts: 534 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 891 Thanked 1,578 Times in 402 Posts Rep Power: 7303677	I carress you My fingertips tracing your curves Loving the sounds you make for me I smile and inhale Heady with your scent You work so hard to help me I stroke you Calling out the best of us both I praise you Until it is late in the night and we are both exhausted I curse you When you run dry of essense at awkward moments I worship you My midnight mistress I fear for the day you fail me For how will I be a typewriter boy without you You are my beauty My battered ancient goddess of print My Typewriter Lover __________________ Burn Burn Burn

05-15-2011, 01:10 PM	#2
wolfbittenpoet Member How Do You Identify?: Typewriter Boy Preferred Pronoun?: He Relationship Status: Single Join Date: Sep 2010 Location: FL Posts: 534 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 891 Thanked 1,578 Times in 402 Posts Rep Power: 7303677	Smelling of stale cigarettes and despair Whiskey label somehow permanently adhered into front Scribbles in margins Stains of ink and graphite smudges Humorless remarks Not a study copy but a work of desperate madness Blood on the edges from paper cuts Can almost hear the hiss of a curse as the pages flip Discard it discard it discard it Yet still it circulates Like a battered 1938 penny Worn by time and rubbed smooth by nervous fingers Read it lost as much in margin additions as original text Is this what madness looks like Or is this what inspiration becomes __________________ Burn Burn Burn

05-15-2011, 04:47 PM	#3
wolfbittenpoet Member How Do You Identify?: Typewriter Boy Preferred Pronoun?: He Relationship Status: Single Join Date: Sep 2010 Location: FL Posts: 534 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 891 Thanked 1,578 Times in 402 Posts Rep Power: 7303677	Fingertips stained with ink from broken ballpoint pen A mess of blue black on the desk I want to paint swirls on the decades old calendar But no that's childish I am childish So I scrawl spirals until the ink dries I scrub at my hands until only ghosts of ink remain Like some cleaned up Celtic warrior Is it so wrong I want to drag the ink across my skin Painting the designs of the gods of battle To go off and face grocery store fascists And green market madmen I close my eyes and simply breathe __________________ Burn Burn Burn

05-15-2011, 07:17 PM	#4
wolfbittenpoet Member How Do You Identify?: Typewriter Boy Preferred Pronoun?: He Relationship Status: Single Join Date: Sep 2010 Location: FL Posts: 534 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 891 Thanked 1,578 Times in 402 Posts Rep Power: 7303677	My tongue flicks out Salty sweat clinging to my upper lip Fear and shame in the drops I push the door open It is 90 degrees out And I wear combat boots For am I not going to war Jeans splattered with mud and flecks of rusty blood Torn out at the knees from rough asphalt Heavy leather studded belt A backup defense And layers Layers to hide that I am not what I seem Layers to be armor Body armor misery On top is heavy hooded sweatshirt Everyone knows my secret The teachers scream it everyday Except for a few that see the desperation in my eyes And say my last name instead That's safe enough But after school and in halls I am freak Faggot Flaming Fairy Queer Those who yell it most I see it in their eyes Disgust...at themselves Because they like what they see So I take it Don't go to the locker when anyone is about Don't want locker door bruises From heads bashed into door so fast Broke two pairs of glasses last year Finish the day walk out They wait till I am off the grounds and halfway home Lay in wait to beat me up After a while I give as good as I get No one will ever admit they are beat up by a girl I wish they'd say I was who broke their nose Least then they'd accept I am not a girl Go home bruised and bloody Nurse the hurts Grin around the pain Mom says we can find another school Dad doesn't even know too lost in his own pain I just shake my head A day at a time armored and ready to go Because at least in this school I know who to punch And who to simply smile at Because I am a teenage freak who is happy no longer being meek -A memory of teenage angst __________________ Burn Burn Burn

05-16-2011, 06:30 PM	#5
wolfbittenpoet Member How Do You Identify?: Typewriter Boy Preferred Pronoun?: He Relationship Status: Single Join Date: Sep 2010 Location: FL Posts: 534 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 891 Thanked 1,578 Times in 402 Posts Rep Power: 7303677	Am I mad Is this hell that I reside A horrible torturous suffering Meant for some past life self Am I dieing We are all dieing some faster then others Most days I feel as if I am dieing by inches Am I screaming I can't hear myself but I know I should be Yet no sound ever ever escapes Am I drowning In life in death in hell If I am do I go to heaven Does the hurt ever stop? __________________ Burn Burn Burn

05-17-2011, 05:55 PM	#6
wolfbittenpoet Member How Do You Identify?: Typewriter Boy Preferred Pronoun?: He Relationship Status: Single Join Date: Sep 2010 Location: FL Posts: 534 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 891 Thanked 1,578 Times in 402 Posts Rep Power: 7303677	There is a mad symmetry In the way the words fall across the page As the click,click,click of keys rings in silence But for the melting of the ice in the glass on desktop And the sound of the cat's soft snores on the bookshelf Occasionally mosquito buzz near half deaf ears Advance the page a steady rhythm builds Tap, tap, tap Finish page Scratching pen correcting typos toofast forgot the spaec Dyslexic mind doesn't catch all the misspells Will find them later when brain less fuzzy click, click, click nother page beneath the keys scratch scratch scratch like the leaves in the breeze __________________ Burn Burn Burn

06-09-2011, 10:42 AM	#7
wolfbittenpoet Member How Do You Identify?: Typewriter Boy Preferred Pronoun?: He Relationship Status: Single Join Date: Sep 2010 Location: FL Posts: 534 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 891 Thanked 1,578 Times in 402 Posts Rep Power: 7303677	Hot sweaty therapy We have fucking Therapy Urge to be seen as who we are You on my cock Happy fagboi Seen as beautiful handsome boy Willing to bottom for me Therapy session on the floor You call me handsome hot hard hunk You've had surgery I have not But you don't treat me like a freak You bite and scratch We walk away bruised and at peace Therapy hookup I've got your number until next year __________________ Burn Burn Burn