Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Amaris 2d
I don’t want time to cool off after getting mad
I want you to prove that you’re sorry
Stop asking what you can do to make it better
Don’t just sit there and repeat back to me
Offer me suggestions and do them anyway
Beg my forgiveness down on your knees
Spend the next eight hours overthinking
Get angry and expressive, ******* unfreeze
Fight back, take up a weapon and strike
God knows I’ve given you a million to date
Or deliver an overblown romantic gesture
It could be literally anything I’d appreciate
Hey, can you listen? It’s not that hard
Do I have to scream to be heard?
I don’t think I’m making an impact
You still stand there undeterred
J F O 3d
Words stain like red wine on your couch
and you try so hard to erase it out
but remnants will remain
and even when you no longer see it,
it will always exist in your mind
and you will remember,
memories and feelings will rush back
and you wish you could remove that stain--
that scar that won't ever disappear
in your mind as easily as you removed
that red wine.
Be careful with what you say when you're angry or in pain. When things cool down and you say, "you didn't mean it", it becomes hard to believe it because everything was said and done and you can't take that back. Forgiveness can happen but remember that they won't forget it, you permanently scar someone.
Aya 3d
so much anger burns in the pits of my stomach
a cold, bitter blue flame that consumes rationality
it leaves blisters sweltering in the hollows of my bones
with a dull white noise in my head that cries out for pain
and all i can do to sate the violence is to shatter already-broken skin
and tear at an already-torn heart
and still it eats away at me,
love that has nowhere to go, love that has rotten away
and here it becomes no wonder why there is nothing left to save me
You unwanted feeling
You impenetrable mist
You suffocating smoke
You drowning sea
You return into my life
You come back to me.

When i feel at my happiest
With the one i love
With success on the horizon
You return to remind me
Nothing i have is deserved

You remind me of the bad times
Of every mistake
Every word i wish i could destroy
Engulf in fire and burn from history
Of the people i hurt
Who now refuse to look at me
You laugh at me mercilessly
"They all wish you werent here"

I can't help but weep
Weep in the face of my biggest enemies
I can feel myself crumbling into my own hands
The threads becoming tangled
The tv showing only static

I know not why i keep walking
Perhaps for the hand that holds mine
No matter how hard things get
Perhaps for the hope that this will cease
The hope that
No fog, no matter how dense
Can stretch eternally
Welcome back
But this time, it'll be different
This time, i win.
I feel awful and i thought that the best thing to do is put it into something creative. Enjoy
Body, forgive my anger.
I know this illness is woven in your foundations.
I know you know no different.
This useless shell I have been gifted is only genetics.
You try your best,
I understand.
I try to.
You do only as you know how,
This pain is the only tool you have to break.
I know this.
Forgive my frustration.
My existence has been wrought with this suffering.
I cope the only way I know how.
I am not angry at you,
How could I be,
You have carried me like a mother.
Understand this loose host of elastic joints is just temporary,
This unholy soul is just unsettled.
Body, forgive my anger,
I know you don't know what else to do.
I suffer with a connective tissue disorder called Hypermobility Syndrome. The chronic pain it has caused me over the years has often times been horrendous, and this time of year as the seasons change rapidly, it's frustrating to live in my own skin sometimes.
I walk through the doors,
Present the child with a tiny badge,
Yellow, white, purple, black.
I watch the smile spread across their face,
As I call them
"Captain; dear; Mx. Eli; child"
Do not tell me that they are not real
Do not tell me that they are confused
You have never known the inner workings
Of the mind of a child,
You dictate their thoughts and dreams and imaginary friends and fathers.
They are not confused
They know their mind
And they know the world they will grow up in
Will be nothing but cruel to them -
Nothing but cruelty to the little lost boys and girls and neithers,
Because if you cannot experience it then it must not be true,
And you must make up lies you imagine your father must have said
From his passive, uncaring position in the clouds,
Watching drama unfold like a game of Sims.
Tell me I'm going to hell. I'll see you there.
And never talk to my sibling like that again.
The system has us all feeling like we're in a prison. There’s protocol in the vision. During your resurrection there’s still a hand out wanting a collection. Don’t bury me! I want to burn for eternity! I want the world to feel my energy! The steps I took. U.S.A. Land of the crooks, none of our experiences can be taught in a book. His-story, her glory, his tears, her fears. The traumas linger, it made us who we are. Prayed so many times, G.O.D. would think I’m a certified clinger. No dial tones, no ringer. Please pick up! They got me down here screaming in my head “What The F**k!”

Everything is washed in red
I can't get past the words you said
Memories batter me, still drawing blood
moments washed away in angers' flood
You still lie and manipulate
I still flinch and hesitate
Nothing's the same, how could it be?
When I still feel you trying to control me
The wound is festering, hot to touch
apologies don't heal, they're just a crutch
There's no cure, time only eases
and red still colors all my feelings
forgiveness is impossible when you can't let go of the anger
In the world of a girl, me,
there is always a story
waiting between the pages of life.

In every word, in every scene,
I catalog and dissect the meaning
of everyone and everything.
Like some sort of word scientist.

But life isn't always sunshine and rainbows,
sometimes it storms, and there is only grey.
I quite prefer the rain to the rainbow.

But I am not like everyone else,
who gossip about boys and sports
whilst putting on a pound of makeup in the morning.
I am...different.

And in this world, the difference is frowned upon.
So what if I dye my hair odd colors?
So what if I'm a girl with hair short like a boys?
That doesn't make me anything less.
I am more than they could ever imagine.

Just because I sit outside in the rain
or eat my lunch alone, headphones injecting lyrics into my skull
that only I can understand the meaning of
because my brain is my own, not anyone else.

And I don't care that I prefer the company of fake people on screens,
just so I can escape my miserable existence in the real world.
I don't care that I fight every single day just to make it through
and then realize I have to do it all again in the morning.

I don't care. Because I stopped caring a long time ago.
I stopped caring when my own brain decided to rob me
of everything I held dear and turned everyone against me.
I'm just a story in my own head, playing out like a badly written movie.
But that's okay.
Because I wouldn't mind it if I was just a story among millions.
That still means that somewhere,
someone is reading it.
I know it's long, I've seen longer
Next page