Poets is powered by Vocal creators. You support Inure Muse by reading, sharing and tipping stories... more

Poets is powered by Vocal.
Vocal is a platform that provides storytelling tools and engaged communities for writers, musicians, filmmakers, podcasters, and other creators to get discovered and fund their creativity.

How does Vocal work?
Creators share their stories on Vocal’s communities. In return, creators earn money when they are tipped and when their stories are read.

How do I join Vocal?
Vocal welcomes creators of all shapes and sizes. Join for free and start creating.

To learn more about Vocal, visit our resources.

Show less

Okaaay...

You forced me to go there...

And now I'm gonna say what I gotta say
Do you think you can befriend my shit? Fuck my pussy... take my love... take my body, my soul... and just throw me away!?
Dude, I will bury your body, your, dog family and friends before I let you one-up me... (and treat me this way)

You've unleashed a demon now...
it's out of my hands, and hungry
you done fucked around and let this shit get away from me...
and it came to feed...
On you... (for me)
Suck the blood of your lies
embroidered truth and hangups dry,
until  there's nothing left of you, it's consumed your, skin, your soul
or until till you die...

I am dead inside...
and only darkness has
engulfed my light
now definitively demolished,
cremated, and died.

Beyond emotionally fried.
Something in me's snapped
empathy switch, is now OFF... not in use.

I'm convinced somehow pried
loose...
And I am finally uninhibited from all the abuse
of the broken, empty shells, called,
people, who had me roused...
fucked me to fill their own voids of emptiness
battered and bruised.
Waiting by the phone, crying for texts or calls, affection or fucking that never came to me (at all)... curse you Goddamnit!

Disregarded and discarded the body amidst the rubbish and
forgotten things, encircling flies, around shit!
You seriously misinterpreted, who the fuck I am... and what I'm capable of, once I've had it with your shit.
That I'm not some fucking slut you can
fulfill your slut-like fantasies with.
Shut the fuck up.. don't interrupt me... seriously, don't say shit!
Or bother rebutting, or I'll literally crack your skull
with these next words, I spit.

Not even a squirting orgasm, or decent dick... or pussy for that matter, that shit was wack... lazy...boredom far from doing it.
Everyone of you part-time lovers... garbage... absolute shit!

So, go ahead and label me the mad hatter.
I don't give shit... I Quit!
Never will you find a tighter p*ssy or one fatter,
than mine...

Understand me, motherfucker, I am one of a kind!
Your last chance...
not even at love (or even romance)
but at royalty...
and you fucked up royally!
Everything you meant to me.
I am angry to the point where this pen legit  leaks lava..."bee"
and molten ash from a heart once made of flowers... honey, and humility.

Treated me like an outsider, a past time, a non-entity!

Left me alone... scared, emotionally tired, frequently!

Cause you'd rather be a dumbass and hang onto your junkie ex, her abuse, and your shit past, with the neglect, and misery you used to mistreat my ass, which is the same, Einstein, as being mean to me!!!!

Already dead and buried and pushing up grass...
I'm sorry if I'm a bit crass... but someone in this bitch has to be real with your ass.

Listen closely...
I stayed faithful, mostly...
without assurance and reciprocity, TRUE?

Still never fucked another soul (WHEN I WAS WITH YOU) despite the countless options, I had, too...
I fucking stayed with YOU!!!!
because I felt it meant something to you...

That I put my love, for myself, and happiness, last to my undying love for you... and what the fuck do you actually do?
Say "I'll be a bit sad, but eventually work through..."
What... your pain?
Are you honestly fucking insane?
to think you can leave now, fucking unscathed...

Oh no, my love...
Take cover... be brave
for what comes next for you... will happen in days
AND TAKE YEARS OFF YOUR LIFE...
Fuck trying to be your girl or anyone's wife.

Not even God himself can save...
you from your inevitably failing health.
or keep you from taking your own life.

Thoughts of me tasting your length
and you spewing your wealth all over my lips...
no one does it like me,
make you come... just from looking at me...
the girl in your spank bank...
the bitch of your dreams.
Just the thought of your growth inside my spleen... or my mouth...
makes your hard member scream!
Possibly cream.
Yea... try to deny that you know what I mean.

No one can turn your ass out like me.
safe words, and tricks and hours on my knees... catering to your sexual needs... yeah... me. Isis. Inure. Queen!
Name a bitch you know that's made you come multiple times in one go...
CRICKETS... that's right... I thought so.

So before, you go acting bold and tough?
Maybe just take a moment to consider all that stuff...
And the fact that I'm determined too.
I plan to take your soul; lyrically murder you

and the fact that transference and past regression and avoidance too
won't exempt you from the bullshit you put me through...
and ALL the sly shit you think I don't know you've been up to...
Ergo, either man, they, or woman up, and comes to grips with it...
Okaaay?
because YOU are the ONLY one fucking up!
causing the fire in my loins, deadly words,  and causing both our pain...
because no one, decides, to act like an asshole for no cause, lest they're insane so...
the blood on my lips, the knives in my tongue, are warranted, just the same...

That, sorry, means diddley fuck!
when you consistently avoid treating your partner, like gold and hooking them up.
Giving them heed... I mean head.
Making some kind of effort to fulfill their emotional and physical need.
GET you SHIT TOGETHER!
You and I, both, GODDAMN know, your damn-well, capable of better.

So, stop dragging your fucking heels... or blaming the timing or the weather... n*gga it's you! You're the bitch that has to choose!
Take responsibility for your sullen, bullshit, blues, constant playing of the violins and sob story... seriously... get a clue!
(And get past it...)
instead of constantly wallowing in the same stagnant shit.
Seriously STOP!!!!

Because if you can't tell by this firey poem...
And the voodoo in every line?
I'M FUCKING THROUGH, angry... I mean. Pissed!
Salty as fuck!

I'm not feeling fine.

I am a human being, a beauty, a goddess...
who doesn't stand for shit! or n*ggas wasting my time...
or shit-show-beings who treat human bonds like crack would a fiend.
Reconsider your choices and I'm not saying cling... rather gather your chi (know what I mean?)
Just consider facts... that karma already kicked your ass,
landed you're ex-bitch in the hospital with a coma from a heart attack.
I told you... that wasn't the heroine or even hospital err.

I conjured the words that put her there.
I'm a powerful girl, surprisingly ruthless... when I don't care.
So again... I urge you, to consider your welfare.

And say Okaaay and stop the roundabout and quit trying to spin this situation in your favour, because, I am a Scorpio...
and don't give a fuck if you're a lion in this is a battle,
you CAN'T EVER WIN.Do you hear me? Yo...

I'll cast the spell to turn your life to sin.
Make you take your own gun and murder you kin...
as a penance for the shape that you left me in.
Don't push me.
I'm already over the edge and about to fall off,
fully prepared to take your ass with me.

I am filled with nothing but rage, Boo.
The Phoenix in the last stand... full on, Xmen,
and I plan to take apart matter, invert water and melt shit too...
just to make a point to you.
I am either a foe or a friend.
I am fearless as fuck and will never bend,
to any ill-will... or allow me to become someone's cheap thrill.
I'd rather say a few spells and make 'the Jin' do my will.
Without lifting a finger, to get my fill.
Rot you from the outsides down to your bones...

It's entirely your life, the choice is still yours.
You can, either, choose to finally do right by me...
Or? I will call down Mammon and bring you to your knees.

#ScorpioSeason
©️ Inure Muse

"Iko Iko"

Iko iko wan dey

Jock-a-mo fi no wan an dey

Jock-a-mo fi na ney.

Now Reading
Okaaay...
Read Next
The Seasoning of Time