unkempthairmessysoul - Hello Poetry

sometimes i feel as though i am such a tormented soul for i gaze and graze upon thousands galore i feel i am flexible fluid wavering i can transition from hard to soft, in the matter of seconds like the night sky and it's embers and flames i feel in tune with all thousands, millions of decays i look upon the women before my own gazing nights and mystical convictions i am formed by millions of these convictions nothing encompasses my broken heart broken for it is divided as divided as it is fluid-- thousand lies for nothing that is fluid nothing that is understanding is ever grounded nothing that is fluid nothing that is understanding may ever be able to stay.

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Aug 28, 2017

Aug 28, 2017 at 1:10 PM UTC

torn

sometimes i feel as though i am such a tormented soul for i gaze and graze upon thousands galore i feel i am flexible fluid wavering i can transition from hard to soft, in the matter of seconds like the night sky and it's embers and flames i feel in tune with all thousands, millions of decays i look upon the women before my own gazing nights and mystical convictions i am formed by millions of these convictions nothing encompasses my broken heart broken for it is divided as divided as it is fluid-- thousand lies for nothing that is fluid nothing that is understanding is ever grounded nothing that is fluid nothing that is understanding may ever be able to stay.

23

I can't look at glossy things The Sun is the purest star Triste Twisted The Sun is blazing Dazing and Gazing upon the lack of man Oh, how I love the lack of man I am a kaleidoscope, ever-changing My mood goes from blue to red, blue to red I flicker constantly among the only constant Triste Dazing and Fazing upon the lack of man, Oh, how I miss the abundance of man Music pours across the room, Vibrating off the walls I have a caged body, I long for something great, to make my life a poetry book across wild and mild pages Will this ever be? When my kaleidoscope changes and flickers with each drop of rain The black dog running after me, I am half happiness, half a slope Triste Don't let it break your heart/Let it break your heart. Giving up is the hardest part.

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Jul 1, 2017

Jul 1, 2017 at 11:02 PM UTC

What is Heartbreak?

I can't look at glossy things The Sun is the purest star Triste Twisted The Sun is blazing Dazing and Gazing upon the lack of man Oh, how I love the lack of man I am a kaleidoscope, ever-changing My mood goes from blue to red, blue to red I flicker constantly among the only constant Triste Dazing and Fazing upon the lack of man, Oh, how I miss the abundance of man Music pours across the room, Vibrating off the walls I have a caged body, I long for something great, to make my life a poetry book across wild and mild pages Will this ever be? When my kaleidoscope changes and flickers with each drop of rain The black dog running after me, I am half happiness, half a slope Triste Don't let it break your heart/Let it break your heart. Giving up is the hardest part.

24

I must come to terms with who I am. I feel myself encompassed, listless I drown in my own tears, plugged by my ****** and ******** When shall I fall behind and bring myself to the finish line? Who shall help me? Can anyone really? Is not life the weight of a thousand eyes and crippling murderous thighs? I stand alone in this earthly lair, I rise above the hands of those I thought dear My goodness, it pains and brings about an ache so indescribable What plugs me down is within myself and yet everyone Engulfed. Gluttonous in its discharge I am in pain Not “half agony, half hope” But a mix and a medley of the muddiest of emotions My grass alongside my womanly pride I hate my insides and what I contribute to the outside I exhale all pain, unencumbered by today’s victories.

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Mar 4, 2017

Mar 4, 2017 at 8:39 PM UTC

Pain

I must come to terms with who I am. I feel myself encompassed, listless I drown in my own tears, plugged by my ****** and ******** When shall I fall behind and bring myself to the finish line? Who shall help me? Can anyone really? Is not life the weight of a thousand eyes and crippling murderous thighs? I stand alone in this earthly lair, I rise above the hands of those I thought dear My goodness, it pains and brings about an ache so indescribable What plugs me down is within myself and yet everyone Engulfed. Gluttonous in its discharge I am in pain Not “half agony, half hope” But a mix and a medley of the muddiest of emotions My grass alongside my womanly pride I hate my insides and what I contribute to the outside I exhale all pain, unencumbered by today’s victories.

16

To the Daughter I may never have I am sorry. I wanted to see you and feel glee I wanted to kiss your chubby cheeks and walk you along with your grandmummy I wanted to inspire you and pass on what I have learnt I had hope to see my own woman rise past what I could not. I am sorry I don't see your future anymore I am sorry I cannot consider your hope For yesterday I witnessed a hostile takeover of the body politick It was devoured and dissolved by gluttony and greed but what fears me most is not the presence that is so overt But the silent take over of the female world. What terrifies me more is this subtle takeover of the female thought Body is marked and packaged Square in a stock market, **** your stomach in. Little girls look at the portrait of the New American Dream Glossy, plastic, shimmery And I gaze on into the distance of a broken dream Shattered is her discourse into her identity For the idea that her body matters more than the content of her head. I never noticed when I was sixteen But The body tatters and wrinkles in years It is ideas that are limitless, expanding through the universe past every entity The way they package the female body, silenced me. They want to silence this requiem of dreams Shatter my inner belief in me (and you) I am afraid for now I see it in you, the daughter I may now never have For I do not want you born into such a circumstance Where your hope is *** tapes and swindles I have never found limitation in my ****** let's make that clear. But I have never found release in the understanding of the idea my ****** touch could matter more than my everlasting thought. Oh, my daughter that I will now maybe never have I’m sorry I could never see you, watch you flourish and become something great I’m sorry I cannot bring you into a world where your opportunities are in abundance But I am also not sorry because I learnt quickly, at 21, this world is too toxic, too polluted. Look at my birth city, as people choke in a misty air that was created by this ****** thought This is the physical damage and discourse. But I also observe that Had you been here, I could see your temptation to gaze away from this today...into the ideas of yesterday: “Why did I eat that?” I could see you look at your limbs that let you move and dream and dance and walk to places of opportunity and see you fixate on tiny bumps and curves, not seeing them as components that make you great But calculating the cost it would take to put them away. They are silencing me and you This really is serious I feel toxic and I feel the air The room closes in Now I understand why I may never be able to have you Because as I witness this destruction, xenophobia, bigotry and pain… I still wonder if I look pretty today To the Daughter I may never have I am sorry.

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Nov 9, 2016

Nov 9, 2016 at 9:13 PM UTC

To the Daughter I may never have

To the Daughter I may never have I am sorry. I wanted to see you and feel glee I wanted to kiss your chubby cheeks and walk you along with your grandmummy I wanted to inspire you and pass on what I have learnt I had hope to see my own woman rise past what I could not. I am sorry I don't see your future anymore I am sorry I cannot consider your hope For yesterday I witnessed a hostile takeover of the body politick It was devoured and dissolved by gluttony and greed but what fears me most is not the presence that is so overt But the silent take over of the female world. What terrifies me more is this subtle takeover of the female thought Body is marked and packaged Square in a stock market, **** your stomach in. Little girls look at the portrait of the New American Dream Glossy, plastic, shimmery And I gaze on into the distance of a broken dream Shattered is her discourse into her identity For the idea that her body matters more than the content of her head. I never noticed when I was sixteen But The body tatters and wrinkles in years It is ideas that are limitless, expanding through the universe past every entity The way they package the female body, silenced me. They want to silence this requiem of dreams Shatter my inner belief in me (and you) I am afraid for now I see it in you, the daughter I may now never have For I do not want you born into such a circumstance Where your hope is *** tapes and swindles I have never found limitation in my ****** let's make that clear. But I have never found release in the understanding of the idea my ****** touch could matter more than my everlasting thought. Oh, my daughter that I will now maybe never have I’m sorry I could never see you, watch you flourish and become something great I’m sorry I cannot bring you into a world where your opportunities are in abundance But I am also not sorry because I learnt quickly, at 21, this world is too toxic, too polluted. Look at my birth city, as people choke in a misty air that was created by this ****** thought This is the physical damage and discourse. But I also observe that Had you been here, I could see your temptation to gaze away from this today...into the ideas of yesterday: “Why did I eat that?” I could see you look at your limbs that let you move and dream and dance and walk to places of opportunity and see you fixate on tiny bumps and curves, not seeing them as components that make you great But calculating the cost it would take to put them away. They are silencing me and you This really is serious I feel toxic and I feel the air The room closes in Now I understand why I may never be able to have you Because as I witness this destruction, xenophobia, bigotry and pain… I still wonder if I look pretty today To the Daughter I may never have I am sorry.

50

I think of the men I've exhaled Salty and in charge, They swirled around in my thoughts Entrancing me with shadowy shimmers Cosmic vibrations and mystic visions Enveloped across my soggy sore soul. I ate my own soul for lunch today. I am my own and my own angel Programmed and primed not delicate enough for words I wish I could entwine my pragmatic, cutlass wisdom Into the sticky, soggy, sore soul. Carol Ann Duffy could write for trillions of years About me, about her, about every one of the millions to be heard Exhausting is the useless, their one ***** soft and shallow pierces It's a story we all may very well know However it's another thing to drop this muted partner Dump it into the Indian Ocean, let it go Continue forward, marching on. I loved myself more every yesterday Seems my youth is draining with age "Wasn't I beautiful, fragrant and young?" Perhaps, but no one said the Queen was built in a day. Wisdom should entwine my soul, not listless lovers "I refuse to give up my obsession" But you mishear, somehow my obsession is ME ME ME ME My sticky, soggy, sore soul. The girl with unkempt hair and a messy soul.

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May 30, 2016

May 30, 2016 at 8:31 AM UTC

Word *****

I think of the men I've exhaled Salty and in charge, They swirled around in my thoughts Entrancing me with shadowy shimmers Cosmic vibrations and mystic visions Enveloped across my soggy sore soul. I ate my own soul for lunch today. I am my own and my own angel Programmed and primed not delicate enough for words I wish I could entwine my pragmatic, cutlass wisdom Into the sticky, soggy, sore soul. Carol Ann Duffy could write for trillions of years About me, about her, about every one of the millions to be heard Exhausting is the useless, their one ***** soft and shallow pierces It's a story we all may very well know However it's another thing to drop this muted partner Dump it into the Indian Ocean, let it go Continue forward, marching on. I loved myself more every yesterday Seems my youth is draining with age "Wasn't I beautiful, fragrant and young?" Perhaps, but no one said the Queen was built in a day. Wisdom should entwine my soul, not listless lovers "I refuse to give up my obsession" But you mishear, somehow my obsession is ME ME ME ME My sticky, soggy, sore soul. The girl with unkempt hair and a messy soul.

28

If someone asked me if I regretted it, and I said I did...that it made things so difficult, hard to explain, contain... I'd be lying. Lying through my teeth, through my woes, through my checkered soles. I miss your clumsy lips on me, lopsided with liquor as we stumbled along the tattered college sheets. It's been a month and I'm two steps back, Trying to understand my life, my life as sudden as a heart attack. You gave me your kisses, a little less than intended I gave you my body but not my choices. I want more, I wanted more but all before I wanted your friendship We were/are friends unchained Students with no purpose running astray Your piercing and voice commanded to me I called and you did but who would've thought we had the right chemistry? I never loved someone more than you, in the way of pure intimacy and shoulder glance It's been a month since our tryst in the sheets, hidden away in your tiny bed room with nothing but a laptop playing streams and a thick bed sheet Skin on skin We were mixed together as one, never been with someone my parents would love. So bad so b a d I loved your face and your voice I loved your hands between my thighs I loved your lips on my ear and neck I loved feeling within you and in the middle of me Knowing someone I somehow knew in all casual entirety In the rain glimmers of dust We talked and talked *** was never a must. That's why this is a surprise Someone so dear to me could make me feel such a surmise You're all I want but all a risk I can't help but want you by my sheets I fear a new day A new day feeling still stuck in this way.

0

Oct 30, 2015

Oct 30, 2015 at 5:02 AM UTC

I Fear a New Day.

If someone asked me if I regretted it, and I said I did...that it made things so difficult, hard to explain, contain... I'd be lying. Lying through my teeth, through my woes, through my checkered soles. I miss your clumsy lips on me, lopsided with liquor as we stumbled along the tattered college sheets. It's been a month and I'm two steps back, Trying to understand my life, my life as sudden as a heart attack. You gave me your kisses, a little less than intended I gave you my body but not my choices. I want more, I wanted more but all before I wanted your friendship We were/are friends unchained Students with no purpose running astray Your piercing and voice commanded to me I called and you did but who would've thought we had the right chemistry? I never loved someone more than you, in the way of pure intimacy and shoulder glance It's been a month since our tryst in the sheets, hidden away in your tiny bed room with nothing but a laptop playing streams and a thick bed sheet Skin on skin We were mixed together as one, never been with someone my parents would love. So bad so b a d I loved your face and your voice I loved your hands between my thighs I loved your lips on my ear and neck I loved feeling within you and in the middle of me Knowing someone I somehow knew in all casual entirety In the rain glimmers of dust We talked and talked *** was never a must. That's why this is a surprise Someone so dear to me could make me feel such a surmise You're all I want but all a risk I can't help but want you by my sheets I fear a new day A new day feeling still stuck in this way.

33

Nothing gold can stay, I'm a rigid mannequin with evolving feathers Feather petals across my horizon The earliest movements of heaven upon them I'll never be able to waste away But no one ever told me plastic decays. Primped and primed Who knows how I could come to be so divine? I never loved but I have lost My narcissism is on decline even while it is on the rise Sunrise sunrise but what a surmise Heaven comes to above but never flashes a light like a dove My father is blessed be I am a curse in a bundle of joy I walk in contradictions and I puddle all day to cry A lightning flash of a flutter of an eyelash A millions a millions galore I cannot live without a human heart Despite the fact I sell all these shells I find on the raw shore. Diamonds upon diamonds galore My thirst set ablaze My legs forever open My heart a tiny cage A precious girl Unkempt hair and a messy soul Walking in contradictions Ablaze with fragmentation Each pin ***** flattened and sewn It may be a fragment but it is for sure A dagger, the edged sword I could be poison, I could be a ***** But in my brown eyes I am warm A teddy bear but frightened A lady but not by the shore Tempted by spells Burdened by lost promises and vindictive twirls A pinch and a ***** Each day was a new month Each spite was a new bite Now I'm just a devil's delight. I love the idea of a throne But I sit on my own flesh Decaying as I dig in Vanity, eating my own cakes Fattening my arteries I truly am, if anything, I am wholly gluttony.

0

Oct 17, 2015

Oct 17, 2015 at 3:58 AM UTC

Fragments yet full gluttony.

Nothing gold can stay, I'm a rigid mannequin with evolving feathers Feather petals across my horizon The earliest movements of heaven upon them I'll never be able to waste away But no one ever told me plastic decays. Primped and primed Who knows how I could come to be so divine? I never loved but I have lost My narcissism is on decline even while it is on the rise Sunrise sunrise but what a surmise Heaven comes to above but never flashes a light like a dove My father is blessed be I am a curse in a bundle of joy I walk in contradictions and I puddle all day to cry A lightning flash of a flutter of an eyelash A millions a millions galore I cannot live without a human heart Despite the fact I sell all these shells I find on the raw shore. Diamonds upon diamonds galore My thirst set ablaze My legs forever open My heart a tiny cage A precious girl Unkempt hair and a messy soul Walking in contradictions Ablaze with fragmentation Each pin ***** flattened and sewn It may be a fragment but it is for sure A dagger, the edged sword I could be poison, I could be a ***** But in my brown eyes I am warm A teddy bear but frightened A lady but not by the shore Tempted by spells Burdened by lost promises and vindictive twirls A pinch and a ***** Each day was a new month Each spite was a new bite Now I'm just a devil's delight. I love the idea of a throne But I sit on my own flesh Decaying as I dig in Vanity, eating my own cakes Fattening my arteries I truly am, if anything, I am wholly gluttony.

47

Everything is wrong about, not in sync, so dysfunctional, your hair reeks of pink From the tips of your silly red shoes, to the very top of your dry, dreary head I can't stand you, even the sight of you Your beady hazel eyes that sink of flatness and superficiality Only glinting when you mock humans galore, Your voice needs to be beaten, your mouth sewn shut sore. I can't stand you, even the sight of you Your pathetic frame of 5'11'', acting as though you're a 6 foot beast You have nothing to use to please. I've seen your **** there's not much there, besides pudgy ***** hair. Pink little head and useless *********** desiring to stick it wherever But never thinking about actions. Silly, unnerving, a warped mind. Have you ever looked in the mirror? I may not be perfect and there may be more to eyes and spies, But the way you speak forms a body so vapid and impure, It surprises me you even think you're justified for little less, forget about more. Vapid, shallow Eyes carved by doughnuts and *********** sites You want double Ds and hairless vulvas, Aren't you reaching? Pathetic.

0

Sep 5, 2015

Sep 5, 2015 at 1:56 AM UTC

I'm so angry this poem doesn't even make sense.

Everything is wrong about, not in sync, so dysfunctional, your hair reeks of pink From the tips of your silly red shoes, to the very top of your dry, dreary head I can't stand you, even the sight of you Your beady hazel eyes that sink of flatness and superficiality Only glinting when you mock humans galore, Your voice needs to be beaten, your mouth sewn shut sore. I can't stand you, even the sight of you Your pathetic frame of 5'11'', acting as though you're a 6 foot beast You have nothing to use to please. I've seen your **** there's not much there, besides pudgy ***** hair. Pink little head and useless *********** desiring to stick it wherever But never thinking about actions. Silly, unnerving, a warped mind. Have you ever looked in the mirror? I may not be perfect and there may be more to eyes and spies, But the way you speak forms a body so vapid and impure, It surprises me you even think you're justified for little less, forget about more. Vapid, shallow Eyes carved by doughnuts and *********** sites You want double Ds and hairless vulvas, Aren't you reaching? Pathetic.

22

I promise myself to never stop creating To always dribble ink onto my flesh My soggy wrists and tear ducts always open like my silly pegs I look at the ladies before me They are polished or they are cracked Either way, people talk slander, meaty anger and ***** dribbles I look at my sandwich Whether it had meat or cheese or nothing at all Either way, people would talk slander, slap a comment I wonder if I could ever live bruiseless I wonder if the only marks on my body would be my own I wish my only mark on me was my henna I've decided to make it very clear I will never yearn for anyone's back I will never smile for anyone but myself I will never put my hands anywhere but for myself A drink or two is my delight Not my service to loosen into your mould, to be played with Yet you see, here alas is my tragedy I am free but I am caged by my own humanity My human desires and cuddling yearns all across the ages of years But even amidst the gloom and doom I hope inside the cradle of my centre that a little angel girl with dreams of solidarity and self-sufficiency Could maybe one day read my words inside her entirety Feel herself in these words of me And see that I am her and she is me I want you to learn from my example, not what they give me I want to one day inspire a generation to think freely Do for yourself but never once forget your personal responsibility A balance of woes to create a life free of opulence and free of hate One day, hopefully, one day A little angel baby can look back to me and see A way to move further and forward A way to remain her fragility and live with her life hopefully.

0

Aug 18, 2015

Aug 18, 2015 at 4:57 AM UTC

All Things Go (Forward)

I promise myself to never stop creating To always dribble ink onto my flesh My soggy wrists and tear ducts always open like my silly pegs I look at the ladies before me They are polished or they are cracked Either way, people talk slander, meaty anger and ***** dribbles I look at my sandwich Whether it had meat or cheese or nothing at all Either way, people would talk slander, slap a comment I wonder if I could ever live bruiseless I wonder if the only marks on my body would be my own I wish my only mark on me was my henna I've decided to make it very clear I will never yearn for anyone's back I will never smile for anyone but myself I will never put my hands anywhere but for myself A drink or two is my delight Not my service to loosen into your mould, to be played with Yet you see, here alas is my tragedy I am free but I am caged by my own humanity My human desires and cuddling yearns all across the ages of years But even amidst the gloom and doom I hope inside the cradle of my centre that a little angel girl with dreams of solidarity and self-sufficiency Could maybe one day read my words inside her entirety Feel herself in these words of me And see that I am her and she is me I want you to learn from my example, not what they give me I want to one day inspire a generation to think freely Do for yourself but never once forget your personal responsibility A balance of woes to create a life free of opulence and free of hate One day, hopefully, one day A little angel baby can look back to me and see A way to move further and forward A way to remain her fragility and live with her life hopefully.

35

Symmetry is what kills me Everyday Proxy and poking All day all day all day Symmetry is what kills me Proxy and poking What kills a lady With a shuffling heart Heart beats a pitter patter across a blood stream Angles and ages America, isn't the symmetry of my veins that carry my oxygen enough? Why does the flesh My mounted flesh Purpose was to sheath me from the cold Purpose is now askew Mixed and messy Even my perception is far from Symmetrical. I apologize for my odd lips Minor and minute My DD faces Is that not what the true face is? The pink heads splayed across a globed smile and frown Lopsided and all that matters My true face is covered But my true face is the object of obsession My silly, silly old lips My flappy ***** My rings of curly tresses galore Symmetry still kills me, everyday.

0

Aug 18, 2015

Aug 18, 2015 at 4:43 AM UTC

Symmetry

Symmetry is what kills me Everyday Proxy and poking All day all day all day Symmetry is what kills me Proxy and poking What kills a lady With a shuffling heart Heart beats a pitter patter across a blood stream Angles and ages America, isn't the symmetry of my veins that carry my oxygen enough? Why does the flesh My mounted flesh Purpose was to sheath me from the cold Purpose is now askew Mixed and messy Even my perception is far from Symmetrical. I apologize for my odd lips Minor and minute My DD faces Is that not what the true face is? The pink heads splayed across a globed smile and frown Lopsided and all that matters My true face is covered But my true face is the object of obsession My silly, silly old lips My flappy ***** My rings of curly tresses galore Symmetry still kills me, everyday.

29