corruptra

Raw Cunt

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The notebooks you never saw by corruptra, literature

Literature

The notebooks you never saw

Put out the effort or not Find the effort to tell her she's hot, and she'll never get the cold side of the cot In love with the sounds and the colours of you coming Come fuck I hope I'm around when the lesbians go running amok I spent the night drinkin' without ya Now I can't sleep cuz I'm thinkin' about ya Bang, bang goes the rain Run away from the pain There is no treading lightly with shoes that are too big for your feet No volume of voice that is appropriate for things not meant to be said Clang, clang goes the fear Stay close when it's near A sprinkling of dust Everytime the wind kicks up There are no

Body-to-body by corruptra, literature

Grainy Sound Confusion by corruptra, literature

Literature

Grainy Sound Confusion

I'm one of the ones you just happen to find, but they have to work so the miss the ride. Oh, where are my manners and your suit and tie? On the way to monopoly did we leave them behind? This is about a girl that I happened to trip overboard landscape and under the bridge. When you start to see into what seems solid and clear you will forsake everyone for reflections, my dear. Are you aware of how your long hair makes haste into mouths for a taste? I can't resist moving my face when you're around.

Invoice... by corruptra, literature

Literature

Invoice...

I walk with uneven steps. Not to say that they're unsure, its just I can never get the balance to stay in one place. And I've lead you the wrong way before but never like this. Look, the rain is now falling from the opposite abyss but the wind isnt even blowing. I'm sure you wouldnt be interested in knowing that I finally got out from that faded laughtrack and I'm not even there before I want my heart back, but the road disappeared. How about that? I hate when we're stopped because then words don't go anywhere like how I havent passed any strangers since your funeral last year where I saw in that man's grip the face of hi

The Revolver Revocation by corruptra, literature

Literature

The Revolver Revocation

..And when theres no more red I'll pick another bouquet because infallible fingers still wander against the protest of turning numb with grip. ..And when you're satisfied with the excavation of whats left of this spider-web skin-stitch nail-torn heart glitch I'll give you a spade to find the remains of the embedded dirt that we kicked up in vain because I've smoked you in until you've burned my throat and I've thrown you up until you made me choke. ..And now I'm thinking to ask if it'd be too much to expect for you to find me if I walked around the corner from where you lay in your still, and sat in the road in

Less than Trite by corruptra, literature

Untolerable by corruptra, literature

Literature

Untolerable

I pick up ashtrays wherever I go so people can know where Ive been. Its a ritual baby, to walk by the water lady. I leave souvenirs as a thankyou present to dock the time. A whole nine pages. ..And you'll never see this because I'm not writing it. I'm just self-centered. Get it? My skin sticks together when theres weather out. So get the most of it, and draw my hands while you're at it. Thanks, bitch.

Downright Ludicrous by corruptra, literature

Literature

Downright Ludicrous

I get so much money for being abstract. Isn't that rich? Let's take a look at it from a daylight manner. I'm sure it's not as dangerous under the bridge. Have you ever seen someone sitting there? I have. I fucking sat there. And I laugh so loud so the ducks can hear me when they're born slightly green seldomly seen. its warm and noisy but it smells like fish i talk to myself because i make jokes isnt that funny? im not hallucinating i just see things see?

Ridiculous I Say by corruptra, literature

Literature

Ridiculous I Say

I'm never done. I never close my eyes. I''ll sit here all night just to see the sunrise. I never pay attention to the observations that I make constantly. That's why you'll never know me. One cup to go, to sit and ponder over. The sweet stench is you. My eyes are in my shins and I haven't stopped walking isn't that ridiculous? That I sang all day because your liquid was in the back of my throat? Isn't this the most beautiful thing I ever wrote? The homeless will tell you, because I pay them in bottles, that I'm a visual sinner. So I'll invite you to dinner to dine on adwine, I mean advice. Slow on the uptake, eh? No,

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Some Kind of Liberation by corruptra, literature

Literature

Some Kind of Liberation

I'll write your name in red. I'll slander your name by giving you head. You inspire me to death. We've been here before, not that I expect a repeat. Actually I'm just not letting on because of caged circumstances that we seem to have created. Down to the filter. ..And it's my own undoing, what we did. You pin me still then turn your head, as if you weren't expecting me. Now there's metal impeding my view. Kick me again so that I can feel it in my heels this time.

Insanity by corruptra, literature

Literature

Insanity

Maybe if I just wait around they'll show up out of chance. I can't go home yet. There's still bombs in my bed from when we first met. My hands smell like gasoline from when we shook hands. Now I can't eat but I'm reckless, so this is the place I came to to steal with music provided for me and to get the sun in my eye. I wonder what that boy is listening to. He walks like he's falling forwards. I thought I walked through that same place, where the sky has a ribcage and it spills all it's guts all over every unsuspecting one. Then they claim it's gorgeous. Then they make love in the aftermath, when nothing is symmetrical a

Ridiculous I Say by corruptra, literature

Literature

Ridiculous I Say

Downright Ludicrous by corruptra, literature

Literature

Downright Ludicrous

Untolerable by corruptra, literature

Literature

Untolerable

Less than Trite by corruptra, literature

The Revolver Revocation by corruptra, literature

Literature

The Revolver Revocation

Invoice... by corruptra, literature

Literature

Invoice...

Grainy Sound Confusion by corruptra, literature

Literature

Grainy Sound Confusion

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MatthewGoodFans

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Unconventionalself

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kidae

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DarlOrJewel

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smellyhippy

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women by SJisPimp, literature

Women by diljowan, literature

Literature

Women

Women There are so many types of women for you to choose. The name of the game is win or lose. There are women with nothing but beauty. Of these women I must be aware. They like to have nothing but their way. Then there are those that are wild. They make you cry out their names like a child. Women with an innocent heart are the rarest of them all. They always seem to come last. To me they are nothing but a blast. They are so child like it's a sight of beauty. Their hearts are pure and tidy. When they reach out to you, everything becomes clean. But to them we are always mean. We pick beauty over innocence. Protect an innocent

About corruptra

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Artist // Literature

Canada
Deviant for 20 years
www.sleep-dep.diaryland.com
She / Her

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My Bio

Current Residence: Crunchtown.
Favourite genre of music: Rock.
Operating System: Wired.
Shell of choice: Tortoise.
Skin of choice: Soft.
Personal Quote: What does a woman, a notebook, and a gas station have in common? FILL 'ER UP.

Favourite Visual Artist

Egon Schiele.

Favourite Movies

Better Than Chocolate.

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

Tegan and Sara.

Favourite Writers

Marge Piercy. Charles Bukowski. Jack Kerouac.

Favourite Games

Pool/poker/euchre/monopoly

Tools of the Trade

Black ball-point, and my nervous system.

Other Interests

WORDS. The ladies.

Posts

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corruptra

Aug 6, 2004

Yeeaa

0 min read

Live with abandon. Be abandoned as a baby. Abandon your best friends. Take residence in an abandoned house.

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corruptra

May 29, 2004

I'm great

0 min read

This little bird that's not a duck glides in, makes a ripple, and squeaks like its in the bathtub. There's another one. They're friends against the bigger geese who make bigger waves on grandiose entrances. They're talking to each other. A little bird comraderie. I wouldnt want to sleep down there. Then again, I don't know what, exactly, a stormwell is. Enough change in my pocket to make contact, but you don't want to be contacted so I may as well throw my change at a wall and wait for a homeless man to find it. Then laugh at him. Or just hand it to him and say have a nice day. I'm such an amazing asshole My hair fell down a grass hole