We blanket our fears with silly defense mechanisms to shelter any shame we carry
From every angle we stand we are judged at first sight
We pretend we aren't critics but we are hypocrites everyday
As we seek the forgiveness we can't give in return
We make promises and sugar coat little white lies
As we defensively reassure the world we are mistunderstoond and unique
The truth is our narcissim reeks like bad perfume suffocating everyone around us
As we stand tall for whatever it is we believe in
It's just denial
Because inside we are tormented with insecurities and charachter defects
Inside our stomachs are fluttering with anxiety and secrets too painful to remember
Inside we are incarcerated with a plethora of misguided ghosts screaming for an escape
Inside bombs are bursting out gunshots and out hearts have bullet wounds to prove it
Our viles of happiness are never satisfied
We are always seeking more
But we are never sure what we are looking for
Some sort of accomplishment or recognition
Maybe validation
A sign that we are still breathing with a euphoria seeping out our pores into the air
A sign of greatness
Maybe we want that picture perfect dream that we fantasize about until we reassure ourselves we are lunatics for wishing
We feel debased because our choices keep the odds against us
We are incapable of managing our own lives
And maybe nothing will restore our piece of mind
It's insanity--our thoughts
I think its called delusional
Because in reality nothing goes as expected
We had learned to cope with self medication
Because all the doctors were wrong
Something had to fill our voids in our hearts
Something had to stop the brain from processing emotions
We chased after something invisible
A force that spiriled our lives down into the ground
We ran away like little children afraid of the dark
Because we thought the pain would be like daggers through our hearts
Stabbing us over and over again until we died from sufferance
The pain was too frightening to look directly in the eye
If it were easy or if there was a simplier way of figuring it out we wouldn't have wasted so many years battling the addiction that wears a shield of armor
If it were easy the grass would be green and we'd never have to water it
If it were easy we wouldn't be so sensitive to triggers and flashbacks
It's not easy
It is World War 3 every single day
There is a chip on our shoulder and a devil on the other jumping up and down eager to break us
He is whispering temptations;
Seducing us with our vices, pushing us to collapse like an avolance until we overdose
He is waiting patiently and constantly because he knows us so well
We were weak for so long and he is hungry for our failures
He wants us to throw our hands up and call it quits
And the worst part is just when we think we've won it gets worse
And we are forced to stand in the mirror and detect every flaw of imperfection we wish to erase
And then it comes back all our defense mechanisms
The way we present ourselves to the big whole wide world
Biting our lip in sufference
Haunted by a past of turmoil and depression
It is hard to communicate to those who don't understand our demons
We are looked down upon and there is another stupid burden to carry
Because everything adds up and we get tired of all the negative
We get stomped on and spit on and drug through hell
But then something clicks
And we look around the room and we realize we are not alone
We are brave, strong and somehow still alive
And there is a person to your left an another to your right starring right through you
But all you can do is hand over the keys to your self destructive behavior and pray that help is on the way
Because we are addicts batteling the same devils in different levels of the game
Because we were dealt with a bad hand
But we played with what we had
And suddenly everything was ok when we walked into the doors to our recovery
and said
Hello, I am an addict

unmotherly love envelops you in all your childish ways
snickers and jealousy
emotional vampira
vacuous hole holding love at ransom
unmotherly mother
narcissim reigns over your sadistic ire
never satisfied
manipulation and cunning
pander them to exact perfect cuts of pain from me
but this is the last heart bleed
this the last compassionate faulter
I am no longer your prisoner
my babes are safe in bough of my loving arms
a million miles away from your strategic abandonment of me
your Radom spates of visitational cruelties
it spread a generation too far
you went too far
It will no longer reign
My humility is gone I am the best version of every dream you ever had
and I did it on my own
despite the cruelty of your cold
a lesson must be learned
now I'll show you a mother with a fierce love
the mother you choose not to be
a lioness crouched over her cubs guarded by claws
though capable as my other siblings seem to attest
you only have interests for their best
no more last
no more future
no more past
you don't hurt me anymore
my progeny will rise to all they aspire
challenged and sheltered  
all equally loved
a child can not be her own mother's mother
you are nothing I need, now nothing I want
my only regret is, that I didn't leave your black hole sooner.

cotton batting fills my frontal lobes
i'm too dry to weep
you charge at me
your head a mallet
your fists restrained hammers at your sides
"you getting ready to go out?"
you say
my eyes are soul-less, flat and gray
as I turn to you
my jaw opens, then closes
opens and closes
words weave in and out of the cotton batting
and stick there
"you getting ready to go somewhere?"
you say
flames fill my chest and the words are pushed and spill out
in monotone, with mercury dripping down my face
i say
"i'm going to visit my son in the mental hospital."
pause
my face, a classic flat-effect,
"you know this and why are you making me say this out loud?"
the sharp angles of the letters slice my throat
and more mercury drips
and acid fills the back of my throat
my eyes are soul-less, flat and gray
and you glare sharp blades at me
wrapped in a silicone shell of your narcissim
"you look like you're getting ready to go out somewhere."
you say
chrome glazing over  your eyes, over your heart
with that, the cotton batting fills more space
my soul-self doubles over in pain
and with that
the side of me that lived for you
died

Sadism joined with narcissim
psychopathy and Machiavellianism.

This is the makeup of the TROLL.

They are not just a nuisance. They
can latch onto innocents and try to
corrupt them in startlingly inhumane ways.

Look up the personality profile of
the internet troll. THEY ARE HORRIBLE PEOPLE.

If you encounter one my advice to you is to ignore and block it. Be vigilant as it may start a new account and try still further harassment.
Be aware of key words, phrases and ideas your troll has played with before. He/she/it will ALWAYS want to let you know somehow that it is BACK. Look up the traits of a troll. If you see an individual taunting others for no reason it may be a troll. Most of all TRUST YOUR SPIRITUAL EYES.
Your gut. If you even have a suspicion don't engage.

EVEN IF IT POSTS A WRITE ABOUT YOU, DON'T READ IT. DON'T READ OR COMMENT IT'S WRITES ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE. If it doesn't get narcissistic "sample" it will move on.

Trolls like to "play dumb". Come off as mentally challenged or very young people. Or as the very devil HIMSELF. They have delusional ideas of grandeur so will often use Lucifer or God in their poet names.
This has been my experience anyway.

I am being stalked by one currently.
This is a message to him/her/it:

I AM IGNORING AND BLOCKING YOU. I KNOW YOUR TRICKS AND YOU CAN'T FOOL ME. GOODBYE.



PLEASE BE AWARE AND VIGILANT POETFRIENDS. GOD BLESS YOU!

♡ Catherine

What a kind curse I have. I am built in my biological design to observe the world around me. To process and be able to understand concepts, how to use the information to benefit. My visual acuity to discern the physical world with clarity and capture as much floating light information that is ambiently around. A dissociated portion of my own psych that is constantly observing me and my mental state giving a pseudo "objective" view of whatever I'm actually doing. Even when inebriated, woozy, or having ***, being directly still aware of what I'm doing and what is happening to me. I am kind enough and seem to be attractive enough that people enjoy my company, want me around, and sometimes kiss me. I have a strong enough imagination to **** a little with my perceived reality. With a degree of fact, narcissim, and uncertainty, these are gifts.

I have such a poor memory. There is so little I retain from the information I receive. I regularly can not remember to do things. It takes a long time, with considerable effort, to commit something to memory. I lose grasp on a running thread if distracted. The gifts I have are wasted for doing anything to accurately and fully benefit those around me and myself. Even selfishly it is difficult for me to substantially gain from it. This is the curse.

I have no distraction from the exact moment I am in and what is happening right then. I am always present. I have the greatest capacity to observe the exactness of the life I live. I have nothing to do with what I have, other than enjoy it. To see the grandeur of the fact that is existence. That anything exists at all is a marvel and I am here to see it.

Would I prefer
The slimy synopsis of narcissim
Or to be eaten alive by my own hatred?

To pick at my own skin
Untill I'm as red as 911
Or to be reborn with makeup every day?

Does  masochism have a sweeter taste?
To rival in my own distruction and bathe in selfhatred?
To drink it like your father's wine stash and to sigh happily as I sink down beneathe the surface and relax...
Sometimes I think I'm dying yet I feel so fervently alive...

Disease tastes so sweet under my teeth,
And I long
I LONG,
To have your skin beaneath my hands,
Your legs tangled with mine,
Lips drinking screams.

I wonder which of us longs deeper for this?
Which wants more deeply to dance before a mirror?
To collapse against each other in the halls of a hotel?
Or in the woods behind your home....

What is your dirtiest fantasy?
Pick your poison and I'll drink.

I don't feel safe again
in my own bed
a sea of naseu
forms my lips
here I was drugged
touched
hurt
here I told him no
last night ,
here he touched me again again
I said no
again the kiss
forbidden
he says sorry
and thinks he's okay
I wish one day
someone could see my pain
and tell me that this is not okay
but no one really cares so much
because I am alone.
so alone...
when I went to the police
beaten and raw
they tell me
I'm a mess that its my fault
you get away with it
with your lies and narcissim
but inside me
all I feel is screams
raging
arms
people tryin to shut me out
tryin to ****** my soul
my spirit
but here I am still fighting
to thrive,
from when
I was always silent
SILENT
when my DAD
***** me
when my Brothers touched me
no one cared
no one cared
my mom hurt me
threw me away,
when I came to the police
with so much proof
no one cared
When I told others
and told my boundaries
no one cared
she asked for it
shes fat
shes a loser
does anyone understand
how much abuse shatters inside
it makes me feel
like no matter how much progress I make
like I'm just pulled back to another cycle
of it
of abuse of pain
of wanting to die all over again
of seeing my abusers
still livin'
still alive
still laughing
someone make it
JUST STOP!
Make all of them hurt
because the pain is just
unbearable inside
so I cry to my dieties
in my room
and sing on top of my lungs
out of my pain
;
You will still never break me
I will still  publish my poetry
so I have a place for my words
for my voice
because I never did .
I will publish my songs about my abuse
I will publish my voice
so everyone will know
about my stories of how I saved myself
from my darkness!
These men think
that I am weak
but I see right through you
and you are horrid
just evil inside
and I hope one day your  karma
will come and  take care of you
within your right time.

You called me fat
All I wanna do is punch your lights out
you were my brother
you were my best friend my whole life
and now your my enemy
and it took me so long to see
because I never wanted to see it
but now I have learnt its better to see
than not see
and I see your wounds
your narcissim
I watch you from a private Instagram
if someone would see us together they would never think that we are related
because you pertend to be kind
but your really not
You are dark
and I hope one day
healing finds you
because I still love you
even though
you have abused me so much

I hope you remember how kind you used to be
before you turned
the other way.
For Now,
you wear your  mysogony
as a badge ,
to prove to yourself
of the kind of  person you are.

I hope you learn to love yourself
and to love the women  around you,
as people
and to see me as who I am.

But I think its a lost prayer
that might not ever happen
so I have  to let go
and I understand
we all have our separate paths
in life,
so maybe this is yours.

I take my power back and
I let you go .
I reclaim myself
from you
from your judgmental
mean stares
and mean callous remarks
I will be strong despite you,
and I will wear my suits
and be who I am
despite what you think of me.
because me reclaiming myself
from my horrific abusive family
is an act of self love
its an act of power
of showing myself
that I matter above
their toxic opinions.