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Theia  Jun 2023
bmw man
Theia Jun 2023
gatekeeper
gaslighter
hateful
little
man

if i can’t rise
above you
then
im not sure
where i am
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                                                  Gaslighting

Am I being gaslighted?
Or am I being gas lit?
Whichever way the verb might be
The gaslighter is full of (it)
Johnnyqu33r  Feb 2022
Street Lamp
Johnnyqu33r Feb 2022
Back in my blackout era
I was more agreeable
Things weren't as egregious
Because nothing was in focus,
Now I'm a gaslighter
For finding illumination
And trying to offer you light?

I've stammered down
The starless streets
With hands outreached
And a heart on my sleeve

I've curled up on the tile floor
Behind a locked door
Loaded up with legal poison
Wishing I just wouldn't wake up

Back in my blackout era
I was filled with rage and sadness
Almost teetering on madness
Because I just couldn't heal
While I kept injuring myself
I am not gaslighting you by
Standing by as your street lamp
Ophelia  Jul 2023
f*-k off
Ophelia Jul 2023
drifting thoughts never wandered to you
comfort was never brought
but i learned how to survive without your f-king apology

f
-cking gaslighter
f*-king manipulator
a killer of minds

the cycle continues
at my own hands
i'm fighting my hardest against you
Clarkia Aug 2021
You're not a nice person
You never gave a **** about me
You have anger issues
You have no sense of humor
You are a vegan
You probably smell like mothballs
You probably aren't good in bed
Because you are cold and callous
You are exploitative
You are a gaslighter, too
You can't stand up for yourself
Until you are explosive
You probably have too large of a bleep anyway
You are not the one
I swear it, being my twin flame aside
You are not the one.
K  Jul 2020
not a love letter
K Jul 2020
I’ve never had such deep-rooted hate for someone in my life. Someone that I choose to lay down with, almost every night.
Someone that I can’t help but love, even though my heart is telling me, “wake the **** up”.
You see, you are a “poisonous wasp dressed as a beautiful butterfly”. Something which you once told me, was completely a lie.
I am the butterfly and you are the poison wasp, entangling my wings, leaving me lost.
You hold your dead relationships over your head like a prize, “look at me I’m completely despised!”... by everyone you’ve been with.
I’ll admit, you’ve had me fooled for quite some time, but it didn’t take me long to see right through you, because after all, you are the king of “transparency”.
But exactly what are you so transparent about?
That fact that you’ll never care about anyone, but yourself?
“You should be proud of me and my ambition. Support my aspirations! I’m on a mission!”.
A mission of what? To feed your addiction?
Addiction for power and control. How can I support someone who wants to see me in nothing but a hole? Who wants to make me feel worthless?
Who won’t let me let go?  That everything I’ve worked hard for was none of my doing; all my hopes and dreams had come to fruition, it was no thanks to him and his “guidance”.
What kind of ******* “guiding light”, leads you down a path of total and complete darkness and self-loathing?
A liar, a gaslighter and a mastermind manipulator.
You stole yet another light, blew the candle out with the same lips that said they loved me.
Add it to the collection, tuck it away in that tiny little box in your brain, then wait... for your next victim.
meadowbrook  Sep 2020
placebo
meadowbrook Sep 2020
i

Could I just take a peek inside?
What’s the colour of your blood? Could I take its temperature?
Could I examine you inside and out, head to toe, just take my time to figure it all out?

A human, healthy and vital in all physical regards. Radiating with what I could only call temporary immortality. I know I’ll never see it fade in my lifetime…

So won’t you stick around?



I don’t mean to be cruel, it’s just...

How I envy your physical freedom - your need for so little sleep, the way you bounce back after a night out, accidentally missed the bus so you just walk home. What I could do with that kind of power… my body feels so much older than you.



ii

Humiliated and betrayed by this heavy casing I carry, have carried and cared for, and defended from hands with no self control.

How could you do this to me? I thought I loved you well, I thought this transaction was forever. A permanent wrench in the system, what can I do but accept it all and push on?

The alternative...well, it’s not something I can accept.

I didn’t carry you all this way, all the way through childhood recklessness, years of kicks and stances on hardwood floors, basketball games, over oceans, and through forests of trees, all the way to shifts at the diner, at the cafe, or the book factory, and on bicycles through streets (almost ending it), through crowded cities and up countless flights of stairs, all the way, for this.

A physical self-gaslighter, fixing problems which aren’t even there. Talk about the placebo effect - a self-doubting, gaslighting mind, and a body with an attitude to match.

I’m sorry I doubted myself so much - criticised and never gave slack to my mind or my body - convinced there was always something I was doing wrong, never trusting the idea that my instincts could actually be right.

And this all leads me to ask… did I do this to myself?

Here I go again.
For a little context, this poem addresses my experience of having an auto-immune disease, and the relationship between a person's mind and body when one's own body attacks itself.

— The End —