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Lennox Trim Oct 2023
...a demented entity had entered me,
Imposing its will relentlessly,
I was moving nonsensically,
Blocking blessings that were meant for me,
These days I'm indecisive , And my vices are devisive,
My minds a rolling pair of dice and is the opposite of what paradise is..
Never been a better time to better myself.
I guess I had to go through things.
Never been a better time to bet on myself.
I guess its best to grow through things.
I never cared - I was careless ,
I feared being afraid - or maybe I was afraid to be fearless,
Thinking before I speak, I swallow my second guesses,
Sinking beneath my feet, I wallow in expected messes,
I guess I'm paradoxing, cause the problem could be possibly me,
Shadowboxing , dipping, dodging , but this pain I can't see,
Physically I'm fit, never been more mentally unhealthy,
Crazy how this emptiness can feel so heavy..
Still,
Filled to the brim, with testosterone and lighting,
I remember I used to walk like thunder,
these feelings I keep fighting, won't let em take me under,
Cause..
Some days I be feeling cloudy with a chance,
Others like I can build the twin towers with my hands,
Reality is different at first glance,
But this towels in my hands , washed clean ..tryin to save face,
Devoured the food for thought ,
But I forgot to sat my grace,
I can't gain from this wait,
A rare form of bulimia,
But belive me im breathing with the strength of bohemians,
The irony is that things unfolded to this exact moment in time,
I chose to dismantle MY solitude/ hopefully for something sublime,
It's funny how things work/
I guess I missed the punchline,
I'm at the used heart salesman/
standing in this lunch line ,
Missed my train of thought/
Too busy tryin to claim baggage,
Playing the cards I been dealt/
With this full house , im Bob Saget...
D'evils Pt. 2 speaks on the mindset I had circa 2k17/18. I felt defeated but I knew that it was only a feeling, and feelings fade over time. Yours truly , Legendary_Lox
Lennox Trim Oct 2023
My fortitude is formed with the force of Brutus' crooked dagger in my back,
These fictional factualities ferment my mentality and thats a fact,
However I refuse to forfeit,
For I am fighting external forces with this existential forklift,
Uplifting my energy, channeling my inner G ,
When I step I centipede then with this the pen I bleed,
Think it's all a process of auto-biology,
I'm always overthinking- in need of an auto-lobotomy,
I'm the hero and the villian in my autobiography,
So its a automatic mutiny for this auto-autonomy,
It's self righteous how felt this self fight us,
It's shelf life is kelp like but felt like years ,
They say that legends never die,
Oh this lonely hell of mine,
The look of death ever present on my absent mind,
Long-winded, but these spurts of happiness are short-lived,
**** bingeing , cups overflowing with beer,
My thoughts Tinted, heavy drinking till I'm light-headed,
I don't eat or get sleep ,
Steady thinking, "where's my life headed??"
Need to stop running my mouth,
Too busy tryin to exercise these demons,
I keep pushing my luck, and im exhausted from this heaving,
Heavy breathing , and sold separately are these hellish hiccups,
My nightmare begind every mornin when I sit up...
D'evils pt. 1 (this was originally one piece but I decided to break it into two) depicts the depression and low self esteem that had bonded itself to me when I was at my lowest  đź’”.  Yours truly , Legendary_Lox
Louise Aug 2023
Five summers, four lovers
and three checkbooks ago,
I've been here, as I am today.
Same corner, same shade of gloomy day,
and about the same volume of falling rain,
still a one-call-away favorite friend of pain.
Only now I am much more
clever and conniving,
more calculating
and dare I say,
more frightening.
My approaching steps are the pitter-patter
of the storm starting,
the thundering warning of my arrival
is Manila's hour rushing.
Words from my lips
are news you'd rather miss,
however I can't say the same
about my infamous kiss.
I am older, and longer are my to-do lists.
My patience is longer,
but my heart no longer sighs or beats.
Quick cafe scribble
Sad Girl Feb 2023
It’s not about what I need from you or want from you.
I’m not asking you for anything.
It’s what I don’t want.
I don’t want you to spoil our connection
because you have trauma that you haven’t
dealt with and I know that you feel the same way.
I do have trauma and I do have pain,
But when I speak to you it is always from a place of
healed energy and it is always from a place of healing intention.

I respect and admire your solidarity and your independence,
That is what makes you so beautiful to me.
I know that you do not want me to speak to you from a place of healing because you want to do that work yourself. I innerstand.
I wish that I could help you to see me in a
better light and understand me so that we could fix this.
I cannot open your mind or shift your perspective
because you ask me not to deepen this connection.

You have ingrained into your head that I do not
respect your boundaries- all the while- missing the clear
sign that I do respect your boundaries when I leave
things out of a conversation with you.

We try to read in between the lines of each
other but we are not books. We are not meant to be read.
People often try to calculate or read situations and conversations,
but forget that we can speak with more than our mouths and our body language.
We are the universe acting out against itself
and working in favor of itself in tandem.

We are so much more than the words that
you have tried to reduce us to.
I wish that you could understand me better
so that I could take your pain away.
You want to feel through this and to be in the pain
because you crave the growth and that is another
thing that I love about you.
You are a ******* warrior so please don’t ever
think for a second that I don’t see you and respect you.

Adversely; while accepting no responsibility
over the pain that you’ve caused the both of us,
You shut down the opportunity for healing.
You want to know what it is that you have done so wrong,
But if I were to dissect a conversation and tell
you each part that tore open a healed wound…
I wouldn’t be respecting your boundaries.

You asked me not to deepen this connection
so I can’t explain what it is that you’ve done.
This prevents me from healing from what you have done.
You get to work on healing what it is that you
have done within yourself, but I will never forget
the feeling of my chest caving in on my break from work.

I won’t forget crying and opening up to a
complete stranger in the parking lot
because she saw me falling apart and I was all alone,
as this experience has cost me everything.
I won’t forget, the powerful feeling, somebody
that didn’t know anything about me -sitting down to ask me-
“what was troubling me?” In the most loving way.
Fully holding space for me where you couldn’t.
A very kind angel of a woman; who had other things to do
with her day, made time to save a sobbing, broken, child
from the middle of the street.

And yet you couldn’t stand to hear me
speak my truth for five minutes,
All while shaming me and wishing that I could stand in my power
and assuming me to be weak in some way.
You were preventing me from standing in my
power by trying to control the situation.
I have never once claimed to be a perfect person
or to be fully healed but I know that I am balanced
because I spend every day of my life balancing myself.
Every day has ups and downs, every week has ups and
downs, every month has ups and downs.

I deny NO FAULTS in this matter, but I am HYPER-aware
that you do not know what my faults are.
You have not opened yourself up to hearing me
acknowledge my issues. You have
created the ones that, you THINK I’m having
in your head based on your perception of self,
all whilst screaming “projection” from the rooftops
and pointing at others. Anxiety is consuming.

It’s hard to fathom that somebody could be giving you
information from a place that you’ve forgotten about.
I only wanted to warn you and I only wanted to protect you.
You only wanted for me to stop trying to protect you;
until you realized what it was I was trying to protect you from.
The only person who can protect you is yourself and
Source, yet Source placed me in your path.
If you had only tapped into your intuition and followed
the signs, you would have understood sooner.
There could have been less pain.

Hypocrisy.

You encourage me not to people please,
but ask me to bow in silence before you while
you relieve your own anxieties so that you can go about
your day while leaving a heavy weight on my chest.
You thought that you had conquered me in that moment.
In your mind, you had faced something you needed to face
and you were breaking through to the other side!
This was going to project you in the right direction!
This will remove the heaping weight from your chest!
This was going to bring your clarity.

Transference.

Instead, you felt me pull away; energetically and physically.
You realized that you couldn’t have your cake and eat it too.
But you were fasting anyways, funny how we’re both always fasting these days.
Or is that just anxiety and an upset stomach?
Is that just bad choices and poor communication?
You felt a weight over the next few days,
Because what goes up must come down.
You left that weight with me, but it always finds its way back.

Obedience.

You expressed your need to control things
and for people to bend to your will.
You clearly communicated what you wanted
and expected and were shocked when I tried to
tell you where I stood because this wasn’t about me,
it was supposed to be about you today!
I sensed that in asking what you did wrong
you were already preparing a response and not
open to actually listen, my intuition said “say less”.
Silence speaks volumes and communication
can be conveyed through just a look,
especially when I look into your eyes.
There is intense honesty and passion in all three of them.
The things that you can’t verbalize are written in your retina.
As your brain scribbles them out I can see them inside of those eyes.
I see you wholly and I know that somebody did that to you.
Someone taught you this.
Maybe a defense mechanism or maybe a learned behavior.

Boundaries.

Don’t talk about it.
Swallow that pill to avoid hurting me,
but don’t forget, “that’s people pleasing.”
“Respect you” and “please you” is a very thin line with you.
Sure as I am your mirror, you think the same is true about me.
I was working hard at my prosperity;
feeling a silly little sigh of relief,
that maybe I was crazy and the communication
and confrontation wouldn’t occur that day.
My dreams and intuition both told me that it would.
People in my physical reality said that it wouldn’t;
they had high hopes that it wouldn’t, out of selfishness.
Fearing what they would feel or how it would affect them,
they have been gaslighting me for months.
Who will ever respect my boundaries?
My needs?
My person.
Only me.
I can only trust myself.
Don’t they always say “It’s lonely at the top.”
It doesn’t have to be.

On the battlefield.

You saw me and came directly towards me,
while I had five minutes to myself to dance and feel free.
You stopped in on my day to put me back in your cage.
Mind you, I had fiddled that lock open two weeks prior and found my freedom.
You came back to make sure that the lock was secure.
I was fine one minute and my boss watched me
being happy and free and helpful. Then she watched
me being shackled by you and then she watched you
storm through like a wrecking ball, leaving me at
disadvantage to my own pockets and essentially hers.
And then I watched you all day, watching me.
You were pulling at my energy when I was
trying to pretend you didn’t exist.
You stunted my growth and my productivity
for the need to propel yourself forward.
I am not the enemy and I am not to be conquered.
We could have helped each other to move in the
same direction, but you NEEDED,
You demanded to be 10 steps ahead of others.
Congratulations commander.
The medal of honor you have
earned is associated with a casualty.

Greed.

I watched you watching me,
looking to see if I was watching too,
questioning what it all means and
if you made the right choices, said the right words.
You didn’t. There were no right words.
Until that point you did all of the talking and
so did I, but neither of us really heard anything
other than our own minds stirring.
We are so alike that it hurts.
To absolutely face yourself hurts.
You confuse me so much.
I read cards and people
effortlessly, but I like the mystery that is you and
I don’t like to pick it apart too much.
I know that the pages will turn on your time.
That’s the respect that I have for you, that you can’t see.

Victim mentality.

You talk about Victim mentality,
but you don’t acknowledge
that you keep acting like
I’m doing something to you….
Don’t you remember that you did this to me?
You started all of this. You triggered it.
You were thinking with organs other than your heart
And you expected me to follow suit, on your terms.
You treated me like a play thing because you didn’t
See what was right in front of us both.
Once you set this in motion there was no
way to turn the wheels back and I couldn’t help myself.
I wasn’t supposed to.
And because I didn’t help myself in that moment,
I helped us both in a greater sense.
Thank me instead and thank the universe for this
while you’re in Noché Oscura del alma.
Know that there is a purpose behind it,
even though you don’t understand that purpose, yet.

Baggage.

I know that things are happening for me and not to me,
but it is my deep diving into the pain and into my dark feelings
that allows me to be the creative person that you admire.
It is the darkness that I have endured
that helps my light shine so bright.
You cannot have half of me because
I do not give half of myself to anyone.
I am a whole package.
I come wrapped as such.
If you cannot accept this package, as is,
it does not come in parts.
You cannot find any other like this package,
it is one of a kind.
If you cannot accept my darkness and my
baggage then there is nothing more to say.

Every person who has ever come into my life
has had to accept both parts of me and the ones
that have are still by my side. I have 15 year friendships.
Nothing that is good or worth it is ever easy.
The things that we put time and effort into, they strengthen and they stay.
I would like to face adversity together, but for now you
want to do that alone so I respect you, and I release you.
But I’ll never let this go.

This will be something I remember for the rest
of my life, for the rest of my lovers,
for the rest of my friendships,
and for the rest of eternity.
Any pain that I have felt in this connection
will reverberate throughout my entire being
for the rest of my existence
until I find myself in this situation
in the next life again with you.
Every time we repeat the cycle,
it becomes harder and harder in the next life,
but the story becomes greater and greater each time,
until we get it right.

Surrender.

Our love story is so great.
The notebook pales in comparison.
Many will cry watching this love blossom
including the ones who doubted and
including the ones who believed.
It is going to shake us both to our core,
but at some point that’s going to start to feel good.  
If we allow it.

We just have to learn to let go of control.
The divine creator knows our true purpose
and we need to learn to surrender to that
because everything else up until the
moment that we do, is resistance.

You are resisting the change as the momentum
is picking up and you’re propelling yourself in the
wrong direction by trying to hold onto control with
something that does not want to be tamed.
I think about lecturing you; but instead,
I write it down, because it’s a lecture that
I need to read to myself. Sure as I am your mirror,
I am doing the same things wrong as you.

Just open your heart and learn how to truly love
people as they are asking to be loved
People deserve that, but if you can’t
love me the right way just let me go.
I cannot keep going on this winding road with you.
You energetically are still attached to me,
even though you tell me the opposite is true and it hurts us both.
I cannot live in shadows and I will always speak my truth.
I’m selective with who I share my energy
because I do not want everybody to know
how I move in this world, but I am always
honest with those that are around me.

I keep my hands at 10 and 2
But I’ll let you control the gas
pedal because we are driving at your pace,
I’m comfortable with this until you slam on the brakes
and we both realize, a moment too late,
that I’m not wearing a seatbelt.
My heart exposed and my person untethered,
I’ve been ejected.
Don’t bring the sunflowers to my funeral.
You have taken all of the sun out of this for me.
Nothing can grow here,
They will only wilt in a few days.
Useless.
What’s the use of this gift.
You can’t heal what’s already dead.

I’m scared that not right now,
means not in this life.
I don’t want to do that again.
Losing you is losing hope.
You are the reason that I come around.
You are also the reason that I stay away.
© KD 10/2/22
This is an excerpt from a book I’m writing about my life.
Cold damp skin,
Midnight clouds deepen within,
raindrops brew unto me as i whip out
a tasteless, tarry, smoky cigar.
Feeling the pain of nights rain,
Train horn rings through my veins and I pierce
my cold lips to the plastic casing of my fresh cigar to
continue keeping me feeling alive.

Opening tunes of musical melodies, bringing me a nostalgic time lapse of pain and pleasure.

Thinking of my life as it passes me by,
a bitter, strong taste of smoke hits my tongue, but i blow out the tar filled air out through my warm mouth.
It continues to rain, when i always feel the pain.

Living life as a misfit, unwanted, unloved and always forgotten.
As my dart vanishes into the air, i look through the dark park across the street and remember last nights nostalgic memories of us dancing together to someone else's house party while the live band plays symphonies and rings unending beats into my hair.
As I grow older I want to look back on the good times I've had, but would it be weird if I also said the bad?
Because without the bad times, there couldn't possibly be any good times?
Footsteps on stones, gravel and bones,
I want a memory to last a life time that surpasses me beyond the stage of deaths door steps.
Where will I go, where will you go, when this life is over?
Every morning when my eyes open, my nostrils breathe the dusty particles of my dusty bedroom floor...but the comfort is within, knowing to be here.
Time's stand still, but not for long when you're half a century gone.
Alicia Moore Apr 2021
My memoirs are written
in the stripes of dust that
follow behind my celestial ghost.
ash Dec 2020
You held my hand.

While Andy Dufresne crawled through a river of **** and came out clean on the other side, you willed your fingers to find mine.

I wanted to tease you, “don’t play palm reader, i don’t think there’s a rosetta stone for untangling this mess”,

But I didn’t.

Instead, I let your thumb make maps of me, charting my mountains and valleys and taking inventory of the cracks you could gently crawl your way into.

I wanted to say, “it’s dark down there, don’t let yourself get lost because I’m not sure that you’ll find your way back out again, and trust me, it’s no place to make a home”,

But I didn’t.

Instead, I let your fingers ****, where does it ache? Where are the fault lines that just won’t give? Where are there fires waiting to ignite?

I wanted to explain, “the fires inside of me aren’t something to roast marshmallows around. These fires destroy towns, burn whole cities right to the ground”

But I didn’t.

Instead, I watched your fingertips search for mine like kindling, wondered if you touched the stove one too many times as a child, wondered if maybe you weren’t afraid of getting burned.


I wanted to be honest, “I don’t know how to write love anymore, my hands don’t know **** about soft, only know how to etch in my notepad with splintered bone and blood”,

But I didn’t.

Instead, I let myself melt into the laughter that followed a joke you so cunningly told. And suddenly, poetry felt more softened butter and less barbed wire.

I wanted to warn you, “they shake sometimes. These hands are more bull than butterfly most days, tend to do more breaking than building”,

But I didn’t.

Instead, I steadied myself in your breathing. Let your heartbeat echo in my ear and decided that I would never, could never, make a china shop of your chest.

I wanted to give you one more word of caution, “I’ve waded in my fair share of ****** rivers, thought about drowning myself in them a time or two to put out the flames, I understand if this is too much, if you’re already taking on enough water of your own”,

But I didn’t.

Instead, I wanted to tell you what I was thinking, that maybe, you’d trudged the same waters, wondering if somehow we’d both come out the other side clean. calloused and cracked, but clean.

But I didn’t.

I wanted to ask, “can you be patient? no one’s ever treated my fists like teacups, I don’t know gentle. But I can learn. You can teach me.”

Instead, I didn’t say much. We watched Andy Dufresne make a free man of himself, tasted salt on our tongues from the tears or the ocean, some relief from the dry mouth the *** so lovingly gave to us, felt the sun on our faces and hoped the Pacific was bluer than either of us could have ever dreamed.

And you held my hand.

And somewhere along the way, I found myself holding yours, too.



a.m.
At the church of all saints
Singing glorious tunes
Hymns and harmonious voices
The father, an altar he stood in front
His passing
Life if an exited fellow
Can we say something?
Say to the saints
The tears of many
Words much but little
An ovation so small
Ashes to ashes
Keeping nothing in your remembrance
He once stood here
A man like God
He jouryned with the saints
Wait a minute
His family speaks
Tell them
He once stood here
Only to stand no more
Did he perish?
Wait a minute
Did he perish?
I said speak
He had no vision
The mantle perished long ago
Did he wait for the saints?
No, the morning after
I see a congregation
Mourning a death of old
Clap for her speech
He perished like a sunken treasure
Was he not a king?
Did he perish?
Oh!
A glorious exit
He perished like a sunken treasure

Written by Tosan Oluwakemi Thompson
This peom tell the story of a man who died and a lot of him at his funeral didn't have a good thing to say about him. They didn't have any memorable thing to say about his existence on planet Earth.
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