There is a "****" in hello
A "good" in goodbye
A "lie" in believe
An "over" in lover
An "end" in friend
An "ex" in next
& a "if" in life
( tanka )

when truth disturbs you

and hatred brings you comfort

your freedom is fraud

and all that you believe in

holds you shackled and blinded


rob kistner © 2018
The cancer of fear and prejudice.
I'm emotionally detached,
in twenty nine days ninety panic attacks,
I see through your eyes,
straight to your past,
the times that you meant it when you really laughed.
Your crescents hate light,
and descend through the day,
I'm deciding my mind between painful and sane,
dividing a line between not okay and opaque.
A plaque I was given;
replying quotes to a mirror image of what I thought could cope.
I know my life's doubtful,
more mournful than most.
Lost in translation as feeling the least,
a leash on my brain and one sense of release.
I wanna meet sharpness to punctured my breath,
rather than losses I can't reconnect-
All feedback is welcome and appreciated

This poem is about how unattached I am from myself. I hope it makes sense
[trigger warning]

I dragged my nails up my thigh.
The             scarred half.
I didn’t do it very hard
But I know a normal person
would think              it hurts

And I guess I was hoping
that after 2 years
maybe my pain tolerance
would’ve faded                  a bit.
or reverted back to normal

But it didn’t hurt at all
I know I’d need a blade
And I wouldn’t do that
because a blade would mean
100 cuts on each thigh
                               hands  s h a k i n g
because even though my mind
doesn’t feel the pain
my body                     does.
and feeling so
because I don’t know how to stop
if I can
and  oh  G o d  what have I done

So I just used my nails
even though that’s really
                             foolish flirting.

And all I felt was      hollow
because even now
my mind blanks out
and needs physical pain
to deal with the emotional
but it doesn’t help
and I know this
but it’s just

And yet

The guilt and shame

The pain feels  g o o d
but the side effects
feel     worse.

I know I can’t go back there
especially not
2 weeks from my new job
but I want to

even now
I  w a n t  to.

I’m weak.
I just hate how I’ve come so far but I still don’t know what else to do when I feel this bad
Hiding the hurt, hiding the pain,
Hiding the tears that fall like rain.
Saying I'm fine when I'm anything but.
This ache in my soul rips at my gut.
My skin is on fire; I burn from within.
The calm on my face is an ongoing sin.
The world must stay out; I've built up a wall.
My fragile lie will collapse should it ever fall.
Loneliness consumes me; it eats away the years
Until my life is swallowed by unending fears.
Waiting for someone to see I wear a mask
And care enough to remove it; is that too much to ask?
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