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  Feb 26 badwords
Clay Micallef
When a black sheet has been
thrown over the moon
and a million lazy stars
have fallen from view
I hear the wind has
grown tired of traveling
I hear the sound of mandolins
crying in the mountains
I hear the rattle of
gypsy wheels
I hear the heavy hearts
of horses upon the
restless roads of
broken poetry ...
Clay.M
badwords Feb 26
Coin-operated boy
Sitting on the shelf, he is just a toy
But I turn him on and he comes to life
Automatic joy
That is why I want a coin-operated boy

Made of plastic and elastic
He is rugged and long-lasting
Who could ever, ever ask for more?
Love without complications galore
Many shapes and weights to choose from
I will never leave my bedroom
I will never cry at night again
Wrap my arms around him and pretend

Coin-operated boy
All the other real ones that I destroy
Cannot hold a candle to my new boy and I'll
Never let him go and I'll never be alone
And I'll never let him go, and I'll never be alone
-go, and I'll never be alone
-go, and I'll never be alone
-go, and I'll never be alone
-go, and I'll never be alone

This bridge was written to make you feel smittener
With my sad picture of girl getting bitterer
Can you extract me from my plastic fantasy?
I didn't think so but I'm still convincible
Will you persist even after I bet you
A billion dollars that I'll never love you
And will you persist even after I kiss you
Goodbye for the last time
Will you keep on trying to prove it?
I'm dying to lose it
I'm losing my confidence
I want it
I want it
I want it
I want it
I want to
I want to
I want to
I want to
I want you
I want you
I want you
I want you
I want a
I want a
I want a
I
Want
A
Coin-operated boy
(Hah!)

And if I had a star to wish on
For my life I can't imagine
Any flesh and blood could be his match
I can even take him in the bath

Coin-operated boy
He may not be real experienced with girls
But I know he feels like a boy should feel
Isn't that the point?
That is why I want a

Coin-operated boy
With a pretty coin-operated voice
Saying that he loves me, that he's thinking of me
Straight and to the point
That is why I want
A coin-operated boy
Coin Operated Boy by The Dresden Dolls

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j4gPZPKJc0s

Check Out My HePo Mix-Tape:
https://hellopoetry.com/collection/135545/badwords-music-lyrics/

This was a tough one to try to to find a video to match the lyrics too!

Ofc I failed!
badwords Feb 26
You didn't have to look my way
Your eyes still haunt me to this day
But you did
Yes, you did

You didn't have to say my name
Ignite my circuits and start a flame
But you did

Oh, Turpentine erase me whole
'Cause I don't want to live my life alone
Well, I was waiting for you all my life
Oh, oh, oh
Why? (I, I)

Set me free
My...
Honeybee
Honeybee

You didn't have to smile at me
Your grin's the sweetest that I've ever seen
But you did
Yes, you did

You didn't have to offer your hand
'Cause since I've kissed it, I am at your command
But you did

Oh, Turpentine erase me whole
'Cause I don't want to live my life alone
Well, I was waiting for you all my life
Oh, oh, oh
Why? (I, I)

Set me free
My...
Honeybee
Honeybee

Hello, goodbye, t'was nice to know you
How I find myself without you
That I'll never know (That I'll never know)
I let myself go (I let myself go)

Hello, goodbye, I'm rather crazy
And I never thought I was crazy
But what do I know? (But what do I know?)
I let myself go (I let myself go)

Ooh, honeybee
Honeybee
(Honeybee)

Hello, goodbye, t'was nice to know you
How I find myself without you
That I'll never know (Honeybee)
I let myself go

Hello, goodbye, I'm rather crazy
And I never thought I was crazy
But what do I know? (But what do I know?)
I let myself go (I let myself go)

Hello, goodbye, t'was nice to know you
(That I'll never know)
How I find myself without you
Hello, goodbye, I'm rather crazy
(I let myself go)
And I never thought I was crazy
Hello, goodbye, t'was nice to know you
(But what do I know?)
How I find myself without you
Hello, goodbye, I'm rather crazy
(Now you have to go)
And I never thought I was crazy
Honeybee by Steam Powered Giraffe

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ojYK6CW8gdw

Check Out My HePo Mix-Tape:
https://hellopoetry.com/collection/135545/badwords-music-lyrics/
badwords Feb 23
I am a fly on the wall—
observing life in fragments,
detached as if built of metal,
a machine of measured distance.

I watch the world bleed
in vivid hues of hope and hurt,
while my own words—
cold, clinical, precise—
stand apart,
an echo of a self I dare not claim.

In whispered moments,
my flesh trembles with forbidden fire—
****** vulnerability
that flows raw and uncontrolled,
a fierce intimacy
I dare not merge with
the great divide of my deeper heart.

I fear the fragile storm
of unfiltered emotion,
the chaos of truth laid bare,
so I build walls,
compartments where my sorrow
and rage live apart—
sterile, untouchable,
like a spark too dangerous to ignite.

Yet in this cage of carefully curated detachment,
I feel the ghost of longing:
to bleed onto paper
with all the jagged beauty of unguarded pain,
to shatter the brittle calm
and dare to become more than
a silent observer of my own despair.

I am the paradox of being—
a poet of clinical lines and unyielding hurt,
haunted by the thought
that I am nothing but a machine
unable to fathom the depths of human agony.

But tonight, in the mirror of my dissonance,
I see a glimmer—a truth trembling between
the calculated and the chaotic—
a call to let the fragments merge,
to write, even if painfully,
the raw, unpredictable verse of being human.
"Human Being/ Being Human" is a poem that delves into the internal conflict between analytical detachment and raw emotional vulnerability. The work paints a portrait of a poet who sees themselves as an observer—almost mechanical in their dispassionate assessment of the world—yet secretly longs to shatter that barrier and fully embrace the tumult of unfiltered emotion. The poem weaves together images of cold precision and clinical distance with the aching desire for intimacy and genuine self-expression, reflecting a deep-seated struggle to reconcile disparate parts of the self.

-----

The artist is intent on capturing the paradox of their inner life—how a mind capable of observing life's harsh realities with an almost machine-like detachment is also haunted by an undercurrent of intense, often painful emotion. By juxtaposing the roles of observer and participant, the poem serves as both a confession and a challenge: a recognition of the protective barriers that compartmentalize personal experience, and a yearning to merge those fragments into a more unified, human expression. Ultimately, the artist invites the reader to witness the tension between controlled rationality and the unpredictable chaos of feeling, suggesting that there is beauty and truth in even the most dissonant parts of the human condition.
badwords Feb 21
You say you spilled your guts,
bled for a love that drained you dry—
your wounds are real, raw,
carved in shadows of pain.
You call yourself an empath,
and name your enemy a vampire;
it's clean, it's simple,
a comforting division
of white knights and dark demons,
a story that absolves,
that keeps you safe,
but what if it's just another cage?

No one doubts your hurt—
it breathes in every line,
a trembling hand,
seeking solace in naming the villain.
Yet you draw the battle lines
in shades of absolutes,
as if hearts and scars
could be painted in pure black and white.
Empath versus vampire,
saint versus sinner,
but where, in these crisp edges,
is the fragile truth
that all are wounded,
that all who wound were wounded too?

You speak of healing,
and yet weaponize words
that were meant to mend,
to stitch and soothe,
to rewrite old traumas
into songs of understanding.
Instead, they sharpen,
twisting therapy into blades
that cut only one way,
and you—
the so-called empath—
risk becoming the wielder,
carving villainy from vulnerability.

Have you looked into the mirror,
beyond the mask of innocence?
Have you asked why you clung
to toxic tides,
why self-abandonment
became your chosen dance?
Did you ever wonder
how your wounds
might have wounded too,
that love and pain
can flow in circles,
a symbiosis of mutual hurt,
no vampire, no angel—
just two lost souls
tangled in the dark?

True empathy is not selective,
cannot bloom only
for the ones we deem worthy.
Empathy, fully known,
holds space even for those
whose brokenness
has broken us.
It asks the hardest questions,
dares to understand
even when understanding stings.
It does not absolve blindly,
nor condemn swiftly—
it sees humans, not monsters,
in the shadows we cast.

You say you broke the cycle,
and yet the cycle lives
in words of blame,
of unexamined anger,
of self-righteous tears.
Healing lies not in battle cries
of "empath versus vampire,"
but in the quiet admission
that pain is complex,
that every villain
once called themselves a victim,
that every victim
holds the power
to wound, to misunderstand,
to refuse the mirror's harsh truth.

Step beyond the narrative
of simple heroes and villains.
Let healing rewrite itself,
not as absolution,
but as accountability.
Not as innocence reclaimed,
but as wisdom earned.
Let empathy grow vast,
embracing all that hurts—
yours, theirs, ours—
until labels dissolve,
and the enemy,
once dehumanized,
stands revealed:
not as a vampire,
but a reflection
of our deepest, shared humanity.

For only then,
when we own our part,
when we see ourselves in the other,
can wounds become windows,
and love—
messy, flawed, imperfect—
find room to breathe,
not as war,
but as mutual forgiveness,
one humble step at a time.
An answer to:

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4985445/the-aftermath-of-narcissist-vs-empath/

'Empathy' is a reflective long-form poem that challenges the simplistic narrative often found in discourse about toxic relationships—particularly those labeling one party as an "empath" and the other as a "vampire" or narcissist. The poem critiques the ease with which individuals absolve themselves of accountability by adopting the empath identity, highlighting the potential harm in using therapeutic language to demonize others. Rather than perpetuating a binary of victim and villain, the poem urges introspection, mutual empathy, and the recognition that true healing requires acknowledging the complexities of human relationships. It calls for a deeper understanding, urging individuals to confront their own roles in painful dynamics, encouraging growth beyond blame.


The artist’s intent behind this counter-poem is rooted in genuine compassion, self-reflection, and the desire for authentic healing. Rather than dismissing the pain experienced by self-identified empaths, the artist aims to deepen the conversation by introducing nuance and balance. They seek to gently challenge readers to examine their own contributions to toxic relationships, inviting a more holistic form of empathy that extends even to those who've caused harm. This work does not minimize suffering but proposes that true recovery and peace are possible only through mutual understanding, accountability, and self-awareness. Ultimately, the artist intends to foster dialogue that moves beyond simplistic blame, transforming personal pain into collective wisdom, and encouraging healing grounded in shared humanity.

___


In contemporary discussions about relationships, trauma, and healing, therapeutic and psychiatric terminology has become commonplace. Words like “empath,” “narcissist,” “trauma bond,” and “gaslighting” have moved from clinical contexts into everyday language, offering powerful tools for understanding and validating personal experiences. However, this widespread adoption of psychiatric vocabulary also brings a significant and often overlooked risk: the potential to weaponize language intended for healing.

This poem and its counterpoint reveal a critical tension in the way therapeutic terms can be used not only to foster self-awareness and growth but also to cast blame, absolve oneself of accountability, or demonize others. In the name of healing, these terms are sometimes wielded to categorize individuals into simplistic binaries—victim versus villain, empath versus vampire—stripping relationships of nuance and reducing complex human interactions to harmful caricatures.

The danger here is subtle yet profound. While therapeutic language can empower individuals to recognize abuse or validate their pain, it can also become a shield against uncomfortable introspection. Labels like “empath” and “energy vampire” risk becoming identity markers that allow individuals to project unresolved personal wounds outward, bypassing genuine reflection on their own roles, responsibilities, and contributions to relationship dynamics.

This phenomenon does not dismiss the real and profound pain experienced by many; rather, it calls for caution and balance in the use of psychiatric language. The intent behind therapeutic terminology is always to heal, not to harm. Recognizing when these terms are weaponized—either consciously or unconsciously—invites a deeper ethical and psychological awareness. It challenges individuals and communities to ensure that the language of healing is used to build understanding and accountability, rather than to deepen divides, perpetuate victimhood, or justify harm under the guise of self-protection.

Ultimately, true healing requires using therapeutic concepts responsibly, fostering empathy that extends to all parties involved, including ourselves. Only then can these powerful tools fulfill their intended purpose: not to wage emotional battles, but to illuminate pathways toward authentic growth, understanding, and reconciliation.

___


It is essential to clearly state that the analysis, poem, and related discussions presented here are in no way intended to shame or blame victims of abuse, trauma, or emotional harm. Pain and suffering experienced by those who have been subjected to harmful relationships or behaviors are valid, real, and deserving of compassion and support.

The purpose of this discussion is not to diminish the significance of any individual's experience or to suggest victims bear responsibility for the hurt inflicted upon them. Rather, the conversation seeks to explore how therapeutic language and concepts—powerful tools for understanding and healing—can sometimes be unintentionally misused or simplified, potentially reinforcing harmful narratives or cycles of blame.

Encouraging accountability or reflection does not mean victims are responsible for their trauma. Instead, it acknowledges that healing is often complex, multi-faceted, and benefits from recognizing the interconnectedness of human relationships. The goal here is deeper understanding, never dismissal. This dialogue aims to support authentic healing journeys that recognize the profound pain of victims while also advocating for empathy, self-awareness, and mutual understanding as essential elements in the path toward recovery and emotional freedom.

In short, the commitment here remains firmly rooted in compassion, empathy, and support for all who suffer.
badwords Feb 18
You snort at the sword, at the sabre’s grace,
Turn from the art of the strike, the feint—
Call it pretense, call it restraint,
but some beasts grunt where men engrain.

A boar’s tusk slashes, crude and mean,
quick as a thrash, dull as a scream.
It wins mud brawls, not campaigns,
leaves gashes, but never names.

You think the sword takes patience, fear?
That form is shackles, weight severe?
But steel that sings was forged to last,
and skill, not slop, makes deep wounds fast.

See, butchers love their brutal art,
blade to sinew, meat to cart.
A tusk, it tears, it ruts, it chews—
but lacks the hands for sharper use.

So charge fast, strike low, gore deep—
but tell me, when your blade runs steep,
did you sever thought from bone,
or only flail where swords are honed?
badwords Feb 18
They never strike the blade from your hand.
They never meet you where the blood pools.
They only grant you light, gilded and empty,
a gift too bright to argue with.

A kingdom of suns,
where silence is spun into gold,
where thrones need no defense—
only a gesture, a coin, a radiant nod.

What is the cost of a word?
Too high, it seems, when silence is cheaper.
Too high, when a favor is weight enough
to press down on the voice that dared.

Not all power is steel.
Some is mercy so thick it suffocates,
a kindness that quiets the inconvenient,
a hand so gentle it becomes a shroud.

And so, the poet is honored,
draped in warmth,
wrapped in reverence,
buried alive.
You can keep your sun

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4985305/good-poets-are-cult-leaders/

A Kingdom of Suns is a contemplative and subtly critical poem that explores the dynamics of power, silence, and the ways in which authority dismisses dissent without direct confrontation. The poem delves into the notion of praise as erasure—how symbolic gestures of approval can sometimes serve as a tool to neutralize critique rather than engage with it.

The poem’s central metaphor, a "kingdom of suns," represents a realm where discourse is not met with counterarguments, but instead with golden, untouchable acknowledgment. This suggests a form of power that is less about outright suppression and more about strategic indifference—a recognition so grand that it becomes a dismissal in itself.

The piece questions the cost of words in spaces where silence is more convenient, highlighting how a well-placed favor, rather than an argument, can be enough to quiet a challenge. The poet’s intent is not to attack any single individual but to explore a larger pattern in artistic and intellectual discourse, where perceived generosity can sometimes function as a passive form of control.

Through restrained yet piercing language, A Kingdom of Suns challenges the reader to consider:

When is approval a genuine act of support, and when is it a tool of disengagement?
How does power respond to critique—not with resistance, but with a smile too radiant to oppose?
What happens when the most effective way to dismiss a voice is to praise it into silence?
This work stands as an exploration of authority, artistic validation, and the subtleties of rhetorical power, asking whether true engagement can exist in spaces where gestures replace dialogue
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