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Kenneth Gray Oct 2020
I sure would love to write. But long behold I have my consciousness to fight. Get out of my way you *******! Get out of my sight! What you're doing to me is vile, it just isn't right!

Ha! You're terrible I tell you! Your work is destined to fail! A pathway of let downs. A pathetic paper trail. You're just writing for dumpsters like its discarded mail.

Silence you demon! I will discover my strengths and discover my style. Bet your *** on that you *****. Or my name isn't Kyle! I'm not destined for failure. Youre making me tick. I'm fed up with your ******* and you're making me sick.

Hahaha I see what's happening here! Im winning you over because you're beginning to fear. You will never silence me because I am all that you hear. Throw away this writing because your ending is near. Boo hoo you baby! Are you shedding a tear?

Fall back because I'm conquering you! My determination is gritty and my motives are true. In loo of my weaknesses and in loo of my doubt. Ill never give in and cry, nor will I give in and pout. My armor is powerful and my posture is stout.

Ah, I see. Are you now breaking free? Are you standing your ground and silencing me? But what of your writings? What will they be? A dumpster fire! I bet your *** we will see! And when that happens Ill be filled with glee.

Its over Debby downer because I'll learn new techniques. I'll lay down my heart and all that it speaks. Ill write highs and lows, Ill write valleys and peaks. Ill write with the blood that my bleeding heart leaks. Now change your attitude because your attitude reaks!

I understand and submit. I lay out the red carpet for you. I see you speak from the heart and your heart does speak true. But nevertheless, I'll stick just like glue. When you worry and doubt I'll be pouncing on you. When you're pondering ideas and out for something that's new. The writings you write without me will be few.

Tousche, that's fine, but you've run out of time. Now let go of the pen because the pen is mine. I'm free to write my writings and the feelings sublime. When I master my craft my writings will be so divine. You're despicable, a decrepit rat! Ill be successful.
You can bet your *** on that!
Btw - my middle name is Kyle lol. There's a story to this one. I was at a point where I felt like giving up writing. I felt like I had nothing special or unique to bring to the table. Almost like a writers block in a sense. I didn't know what style I was after and didn't know if I was ever going to come up with something unique and special. Something just from me and only from me. Because the poems I've been reading havr all been the same. The same poem but with different words. I wanted to get out of that box. Well in my blocked mind I came up with an idea within my doubts and lack of content. To write about not being able to write. To write out my issue of being blocked. To write out the battle amd conversation I was having within my inner dialogue. This is The result of it. Ps. Thanks to my sister, Christina Daggett, because the conversations I had with her kind of helped me work this idea out. She deserves a shout on this one. Thanks sis! Hope you all enjoy it!
Godfrey Ndlovu Jul 2019
Frustrations of the Sad Sack.

From the blows of a feisty distress I ache ,
An insane spin of pain,
Inflated of a pungent vapour
my lungs turn a mouldy grey
In the repugnant heats of my anger and regrets.
Burning agony
In the most tender patches,

Though my voice makes no sound,
My noisy countenance tells it all in a disturbing loudness,
I call up the innermost parts from their ease ,
Call to the deepness of subconscious ponder,
If there be any superliminal faculty to see out my salvation
From this piling debris of dead ends.

I sleep and wake
To lend late night gazes on the mirror only to ask,
Should I have done it in the blinding blackness of the breezy shadows?
Or better in the perching heat of the brightness of a million suns?
O Whatever! , would it have mattered anyway?
Who cares?
For every motive of mine is ripped in cold blood.
The struggle with self is ******,
My flesh faints, my muscles slacken
I can't stand more of this losing debate.
I'm running out of steam
I've lost control,
My ego comes tumbling in an ugly splatter.
My fumbling reasoning has become ill-fated,
I think in wrong directions,
Mileages that clip me off into pits of no return.

I regret that I always have had to regret it all,
Perhaps someday not so far,
Heavens will care for my ever fresh tears,
To curse and toss my frustration to the basements of hell,
For mischief calls me by name,
But in that day I will cease from his memory
To be called by a new name ,
This poem is a reflection of the pains borne from frustrated endeavors, it's a representation of the clogged and confused state of mind that often comes with a hope that has been disappointed.
Life is a lot like a river
The tides either help raise you up
Or lower tides can drag you under.
One false move
as you swim these emotionally
sensitive  energy currents....
Constantly keep  the emotions in a   balancing science..

Which helps the waters from turning "tsunami"  into wonder..
"How to Keep your head above the waters"
and "away from the gravels below?"
Strength and strict compliance to this ritual are always a skill..
A ritual..
A battle which always must be won..

Moods and unchecked thoughts are similar to a loaded six shooter.
You twirl the bullet wheel  and point the barrel to the head
Providing an answer on to the scene to where this "play" shall take you
or the rough waters shall take you through.
Memories of the past turning to obsessive weight
Kicking the stress of life's load to weigh one metric ton.

You must become like an Olympic swimmer and Albert Einstein rolled up into one character.
Smarts help you figure out a better equation instead of "Russian roulette"
and becoming a strong and skilled athlete can help one wrestle
their control over the tides wishing to
overthrow "this alpha male."
You become the victor through all of it.
Becoming a controller instead of being "controlled"
Energies kept in check.
Don't give in.
For one moment of allowing one's self to be overwhelmed or give in to
the energy effect of exhaustion
Can make your reactor
Powering your life's force
Blow as the Chernobyl Reactor blasted into lifelessness
You do not have to revisit history to know what and who such energy took down with it
So stay with the times
and never neglect yourself,
Never throw up your hands, and act out the phrase "forget it!"
The future is a brighter light than in the past.
Chose the right role in your life
and you shall win your Oscar
Thanks are due to the character in which you are bright to life
and as a director
you are a true actor.
in which you cast.
laura Mar 2019
Now a teenager,
battling against the world,
fighting 'til the end
finally a teenager
s Willow Dec 2018
God has cursed me.
Going insane, slowly.
Getting paranoid,
giving up.

God cursed me,
when I was born.
Where did he go?
Why did he leave humanity to rot away?

God have cursed me.
The devil won the battles and the war.
Demons follow; survants to him
I follow as a survant to them all.

The Devil cursed me.
He cursed me to obey.
Today I break,
I’m breaking out of his trance.

Today I no longer follow him.
He will follow me.

The Gods cursed me, and I cursed them back.
Geanna Jun 2018
A smile replaced with a frown
A laughter replaced with tears
A happy thought replaced with a sad one

The day that my birth is celebrated
Is the day that I worry
It's the day that I never thought would come

16 years alive
5 years of battling my own mind

My body stands here
but still functioning

5 years down, many more to come
Cheers to me and cheers to you all
Happy Birthday to me
~ G.P.O
lins Dec 2017
I took a shower
I put on jeans
I got off campus
I ate two meals
I spent a few hours in a public place
I talked to someone with my voice and not over text
I wrote
I studied
I feel okay
Today was a victory
A small victory
depression didn't swallow me whole today
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