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Casey Sep 26
Thought I knew this well.
every step I had to take,
every lie--delivered smiling--I had to sell,
every mindless task, no breaks.

Thought you knew of my own created, designer hell.
watching me falter towards an imaginary goal,
watching my fibs for tells,
watching my to-do list quadruple.

I thought I knew how to quit,
how to snap out of it.
I thought you knew about it,
and how to deal with this ****.

Turns out that neither of us knows jack-squat.
And that's alright, I swear I got this, yeah I'm good, I can do it.
I hoped for you to say something, I thought you knew I was talkin' *******.
Yet, without a word, you left
me to rot.
Did you care? Did you ever even care? Did you see the signs? Did you know they were there?

Alternative Title: Doormat
**** i feel walked on
"Welcome," I say loud enough for the whole world to hear me
"Wipe your feet on me. I don't mind."
Some have even stomped their feet on me
It hurts and it has left many marks
I don't think I want to be a doormat anymore
Can I retire?
Jana Clay Nov 2018
Walk all over me I’m use to the abuse!
Step on me and dust your feet from the nasty concrete I’m use to the abuse... no matter what you say you spit and dump on me everyday. You say you love me in what kind of way I’m use to the abuse and the words you say! I was taking for granted you thought I will always be, one day you came home I wasn’t there for your feet. You was lost without your doormat it was no longer there  a house is not a home with just you living here.
Poetry Aug 2018
g l a d l y

Is 'DOORMAT'  s
                       t
                     r
                 u
             n
        g
from a label
at the top of my forehead?

s o r r y

Is my throat a magnet to emotion
machetes?


anxiety isn't my problem
c r u e l t y
is
PrttyBrd Feb 2018
elephants stomping on my head
laugh as they draw blood
fragmented ideals scatter in the wind
as trampled dreams mix with dust

cemented in 'supposed to'
hiding behind other people's 'shoulds'
jackhammer disappointment
crushes bones with broken boundaries

play me a song
to make it look pretty
and I'll pretend to dance
with you in foggy yesterday's

karaoke soundtracks
to a stranger's tears
that leave the heart blind
tripping acid just to see in forgotten colors

breathing bacteria
from the soles of shoes
wiped on my forehead
as they said, 'hello'

a mosaic of skull puzzles
grouted in the remnants of the ****
left behind as everyone
just walks away

shadows smell clean in dark corners
where colors are left to die
in clouds of expectation
leaving truth buried in the ruble

...of who they thought I was
22318
138w
who me Nov 2017
We got back together after months of confusion, disillusionment, and manipulation.
We both made the willing choice to try again and give each other all we had.
We decided that we loved one another and wanted to respect one another.
She told me she understood, She promised to work on her flaws, although I never asked her to.
And I believed her when she told me she would never cheat...
Richard Grahn Jun 2017
Love at the doorstep
I am here on your doormat
Just ringing your bell
Dawn Anderson Jan 2017
---
To let people run over me
I have a tendency,
I'm a doormat off sorts
With bristles that are coarse
And the personality to match,
What catch.
Angela Mirisola Sep 2016
The house is full of horrors,
This house, it owns no love.
The air is filled with madness,
The floor boards moan in sadness.
The sounds it makes at night,
And the walls, blood red and white,
Represent the turmoil that’s going on inside,
But everything is perfect on the outside.
The grass is trimmed,
The flowers bloomed,
The hedges cut,
The paint renewed,
So people walking by they smile,
And continue on their way.
But the house it cannot move,
For a house wasn’t built with feet to run,
Or a mouth or eyes,
To tell you something’s wrong.
This house it carries on,
It has to stand up strong,
To support the demons ruining
All the paint work.
They will rip it all to shreds,
Tare it up until it’s nearly dead,
Without a detectable scratch upon the surface.
The house it cannot show
The scars it bares inside,
And its figured that’s all it’ll ever deserve.
There’s no way to break the cycle
trust me it’s tried,
And all it’s done is made itself cry,
Which resulted in a leak down from the roof.
The house was beat
And still no outward proof.
There never was,
Nor will there ever be,
Someone there to help it carry on.
Sarah Mar 2016
two heavy feet
standing square
upon my chest
I can't breathe
I can't scream
that's what it's like
to be a doormat
to be a set of stairs
always helping
someone else
get to where they need to be
Never thought about
what was in it for me
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