Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Falling onto his back
But I want to fall on my own
Standing only leaning towards him
He is helping me to cope
Now I realize this
And it is not funny at all
I thought I was stronger
But it was his strength I was measuring
And I needed it
Though now the new times have come
Still wanna love him
But let him go.
So that I finally can simply hold his hand
Without putting all my weight and sorrow
On his shoulder.

I wanna have a bright tomorrow
And see it positively for my own
My greatness is hard to find
In insecure times
When I need to remind myself
Sometimes in rhymes
That my self worth
Is not connected to others
That it's also not dependent on success
That in fact I am already capable
To feel strong and safe on my own
Despite all the trauma I have gone through.

It is hard though
Cause one part still fears
Needs a saviour
Doesn't trust
Doesn't want to rely on myself
Doesn't know that I can help.

How to reach my self,
My hurt inner child?
How to let my partner go
And to rewire myself
With myself?

Can anybody understand what I mean?
I have a deep wound within.
I am working so ******* myself,
Really trying different techniques,
In the end art is what's helping my health and the stone inside of me shrinks.

Though the wound is looking for a substitute
And I don't want to feel like a ******* :D
I just want to give enough love to myself  
Isn't it enough to help myself?

How to end the unhealthy dependency
And still keep my relationship safe?
Does anybody know some kind of recipe?
Because I'm really looking for a way...
How to turn my attention back to myself and stop feeling emotionally dependent on my partner?
Stalwart Dull Sep 30
The Truth Part - III

She always tell the truth to her friends
It was them, where her trust depends
She knew that everything has its end
It was them, where her time should spend

She's not yet done on the stage of insecurity,
Knowledge won't fade but beauty
She's on her way to maturity
Beauty won't define her but humility
Amanda Hawk Jul 14
Wicked is your tongue

Saying forgive me

And I am sorry

Love is poisonous

From your mouth

I feel tainted and alone

Each touch that grazes my skin

I wonder if I could just leave

With you hand lingering in the air

Tangled in my shadow

Would you keep drowning

In your insincerity

Or would you finally realize

You will never have me
Tizzop Jan 11
on a staircase in frankfurt, german financial centre.

a habesha lady in company of two brothers; one of them, a rastafarian, is carrying a beautiful young girl in his arms.

the habesha lady grabs into the girl's ***** blonde hair, saying: "her hair looks so good."

by the sound of her voice, i sense clearly that she has been on strong drugs excessively.

what will be her fate?
and, more importantly, was this girl her daughter?
(Habesha is a term to describe, roughly, people of Eritrean and Ethiopan descent.)

Keep in mind that strong drugs haven't been part of our cultures for long, while the traditions of Christian, Jewish, Islamic, Hindu and Buddhist religion have been established for centuries.

And religion is a source of hope, strength and belongingness for many.

But often, faith by itself is not sufficient to keep addicts clean.

That's why the message has to be spread:



Today is a good day.
Tizzop Nov 2019
take me away from this journey
i am trapped in the land of placelessness

blind / hypnotized
route 36 / bolivia
deaf / treated with ultrasound

scarcely knowing
what all that means

i am feeling the rising of blood
a wave of heat like sandstorms

inevitability: willful / knowing / aware

i am putting myself at risk of dying
long ago i read about the risks and consequences
of my ******* abuse
pervaded them intellectually while

my heart remains deafly because
of *******
aflutter and in panic

there is just:

one life
one heart
one body one man

man what are you doing?!?!
i am hollering into my inner
embracing the envelope
obsessed over bitterness
numb love
in the dungeon of plotted heavens
lofty as never before
is where i am running away from:
every day

in the 1920s there was a man
who they called "koks-emil"
he sold ******* in the nightstreets of berlin

the national archive has been keeping
a picture of him doing business with
two girls out of gangland we
can't see the face of the one standing left only  
her back

however her companion typifies precisely
what the drug creates in our souls:
a form that can not be imitated
like the effect of the drug

a form of longing and greed in the
girl's face

longing and greed
balancing each other
not one of
these states predominates

while beholding the girl i am becoming
horridly conscious
about myself
horridly about

my relationship with *******
my affair with *******
my love to ******* this
sounds sick?
indeed it is

we call it
suffering from an addiction

we call it
suffering from a dependency

become clean.
i wish you willpower
wish you strong luck
wish you peace at last

the rate of relapsing
******* users is vast
during the night

when the wind is
breezing mildly

when the stones of the cities
are breathing out the heat of the day

while you are
sneaking over the streets

while every street corner resembles
the very one where
koks-emil used to sell his product

while you are sensing the smell
of bitterness

while you are being preoccupied with
her face: her longing her greed

while you are experiencing

more deeply
more soberly
and more knowingly
as before

while you
are reaching out your hands searching
with kidfingers for koks-emil

the guy with the warped corner of the mouth
the reliable / greedy one

the one who is always ready

a salesman has to be available for
every second of your longing
every second of your greed

koks-emil: your world is made of black and white
your hat is grey its bonnet is vanishing as your
shivering hands

hands that spread capsules
hands that grap at bills
hands that you use to brush away your sweat

**** between the lipps
shabby coat

koks-emil your spirit
blows through inner cities like gas fumes
a grin on your face coming from
lurid lights

you became immortal
you underwent rapid decades
you were an addict
you created addicts
you served addicts

the ****** expression of the girl
your child-like customer
remains for

all for everybody with a

for all and for everybody
who depends on *******

for all and everybody
who is clean from *******

for all and everybody:
longing and greed

rest in peace girl
Based on true events.

Today is a good day.
Tizzop Nov 2019

don't come

here ain't ya place

mommy forgot you
dad burned all
your pictures
dad destroyed your old

i hate you

got some blow?
i be filling gapz  
i been tizzop
Tizzop Nov 2019
i swear by revenge baby
i swear by my mother's death:
it's over now

i know what he did to

i know about your story
i know about your worries

i am going to be with

i am going to stay close
will never leave you
like boomerangs
you get me?

he'll never be hurting
you again

we'll be leading a
white bread life in order to

but never be gone  
never gone

i know what he did to

you and me
female and female
male and female
male and male

are going to eliminate him
his head will bust and his giblets will splatter
against the wall

and i swear baby
because i love you so much baby

this paint will be our

**** louis vuitton what
we need is


feel me?
let's do it
be wit me
i'm never going to leave you i
swear by revenge
swear by the death of my mother

don't you assume i
haven't been suffering

been drinking gallons of milk against
ain't only *****
believe me

don't you assume i
haven't been suffering

it's our time.

get me?
Eleni Oct 2019
You are my single lifeline
The mask I wear to confine.

With a plastic shield- I am out of my senses.
Frivolous safety, with endless expenses.

Coughing green and blue ice
Why do I seek life on Neptune?
Far from warmth and invisble to naked eyes
Rings of glass dull the distant cries.
A Simillacrum Sep 2019
I'm right
on top of
things can't
you see it?

Oh! It's Friday
the 13th?
Thanks Cné.

I'm right
on top of
it, just -- just
trust me!

(An ounce of ****
per week and sleep,
dreamless sleep.)

I'm up
to date on
pop culture.

Oh! It's August
isn't it? Sep - tem
- ber. That's

what I meant.

(An ounce of ****
per week and sleep,
dreamless sleep.)

   Why can't I live like
Oliver Tree?

(An ounce of ****
per week and sleep,
dreamless sleep.)

   Why can't I live like
Die Antwoord?

(An ounce of ****
per week and sleep,
dreamless sleep.)

   Why can't I live like
Mr. Rogen?

Next page