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Brandon Conway Jun 2018
A handful of dust, immortality
A portrait to age, immorality
A hungry lust doth consume, apathy
A conscience driven mad, insanity
Narcissistic soul buried, casualty
The capturing of youth, causality
Brandon Conway Jun 2018
Mothers warmth peered over the precipice
Her halo radiating with life
Projecting her color over the lush meadow
Engulfing everything in sight
How angelic, even the flora cry
An ocean blanket of blue and white
On the hillside your scapose body resides
Weighed down by blissful dew
Tipping over to one side.

Admiring that stream lazily flowing by.
Admiring that stream, what is identified?
Admiring that stream lazily flowing by.

Perfection staring, a gaze that seized
Cornas locked eternally
A beauty never before seen
Afraid to break sight, fear of ambrosia running away
Forever you stare
Forever you stare
Forever you stare
Never to look away
Left starving
Left withering
Left to decay
Left as an echo
Never to chase
Left as an echo
Never to embrace
Left as an echo
Your coupe de grace
Aa Harvey Jun 2018
It’s all about you.


You are beautiful;
You are wonderful.
You are definitely one of a kind.
Because you truly are, beautiful
And you truly are, so wonderful
And with your love in your life, you feel so alive.


You’re the best of the best
And you’re all there is.
You are the narcissist.


And as the narcissist stares deeply into the pond,
Never realizing, he is already gone,
He has been lost inside his own reflection.
Casting no image, the unknown word humility, is without action.


Mirror man walking towards himself with pride.
He is going to fall through to the other side.
So self-aware, yet so see through.
His heart is invisible,
As is his wife…
Staring into the blue.


(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Mary-Eliz May 2018
oh such humility
is found here

not a cocky one
in the lot

no narcissism
or conceitedness

not a word about
**** so taut

not a one thinks
he's better

than any other
on the site

or in the world
for that matter

who thinks he's
always right

not one thinks
that he is

God's gift to
humankind

or that others
swoon for him

because he's so
very fine

at least most
don't write it

a bragging
load of poo

if you have to
write about it

it's certainly
not true!
"The truth?!...you can't handle the truth!"
Alaina Moore May 2018
Learn how to talk!
Type out a message
Erase it.
Chemically induced paranoia.
Marooned by burning bridges,
I fear starvation.

Just surviving life right now
minutes or hours at a time.
It's not pretty.
Poems don't lie.

Perhaps that's why
I can only gush feelings
in some rhyme or pentameter

Not really pentameter,
to much work and time.
This **** has no flow other than
how I think I'd speak it in my mind.

Can't call it slam.
It's just word *****
so I can read it over
and over and over.

Send it to a friend.
Narcissistic desire.
All positive reviews,
so it doesn't matter.

It's easier to remember the feeling this way. (I guess)
Jaded poems of a jaded mind.
My issues are simple
relapse, replay, rewind.

Chain smoking simply for the high,
Et Cetera, et cetera, along those same lines.
Got all this to live for
yet that **** still remains?

Are you ******* serious?
I thought I served my time!
Regressed back to a default state of mind.

I thought I was better than this,
control seemingly was mine.
Normally I'd meditate;
not in that house of horrors

I barely eat,
Not drinking water.
Nothing but making it worse.

Escape: all available options.
I joke about it.
Reminiscent of Lennon:
Help
This poem was sparked by a chain of events that lead me to a state of total mental instability. Since I was 13 I have flirted with thoughts of suicide. When hard times come around, even decades later, I still revert back to those thoughts. This also goes into how I often write poems, send them to friends for their reviews and then the poem essentially dies. However, I find it hard to articulate myself in other forms. Text is where I find my solace.
IamThatGirl May 2018
My life would be so much better, if you just dropped dead,
because staring into your eyes makes me see red,
for all that you have done,
and all the hurt that you have caused,
you would think the beating would be the worst,
but its always the words that hit the hardest,
and its not like I had a helping father,

living in a middle class house,
driving in a middle class car,
my mother sat the bar,
and she raised it up too far,

so everything was to look perfect,
I was supposed to smile,
I was supposed to make it worth it,
I was supposed to be perfect,

so what happens next,
Its not like I passed all her test,
I passed none,
i was to much and she was too strong,

I still feel her beatings on my face,
but that´s not what ended me up in this place,
because her words hit the hardest,
she said she regretted the adoption,
and with every second the words always hit harder,

because I tried my very best to be perfect,
but with insomnia, ADHD, Asperger and more,
it was like glass shattered beneath my feet with each step,
and all I ever wanted was to be like the rest.
Rachelhopeful Mar 2018
THE NARCISSISTIC CYCLE

I got your game,
I know your name.
Your the covert Narcissist
Who likes to shame.
Your game to blame,
And make others feel pain.
To feed your sick and twisted brain.
Your always right
And there is no use for me to fight.
Your not capable of love
You think your above.
But you lost me
And now you can never
Control me.
That must torture you so...
I hurt your ego when I told you to go.
Now your devil horns
are starting to grow and show.
You hurt my innocent friend
And even your own children.
You come after me rage-full.
I never wanted to expose  
Your deep secret
That you dress as a woman
Who calls herself “Angel”.

He’s just like my narcissistic mother,
With her twisted words
She killed my brother.
By filing his sweet mind
With a lifetime of doubt
He saw no other way out.
Now she blames me
With her verbal assault
Certainly it’s not her fault.

My brother’s spirit lives inside
And gives me strength to survive.

I clearly see the
Narcissistic cycle of my life.
My mean mother always
called me a *****
And created imagined strife.
Now she’s turned on my daughter.
Abuse me,
But hurt my daughter and
You’ve hit my boundary.
I do not believe
Her lies and predictions.
It’s Mommy Dearest
With the pathological condition.

How could I be so blind?
That I didn’t realize
the man
I trusted to father my children
Is the most evil devil.
He is so dangerous
And scares me so
He’s out of the home
But last week tried to
run me off the road
I hate myself for being
Stupid, needy and kind
I cry and cry
Because I was blind
twisted my words,
My thoughts
His harem of family and friends
He’s convinced
That I’m the crazy one
To no end.
I struggle every day
Because he will not go away.
Written at this point of my life when I finally realized my patterns of codependency since childhood narcissistic abuse.  Feeling foolishly manipulated.
Sunny Feb 2018
We have families.
People that care for us
They love you and support you through tough times
Some people don’t have these kinds of families.
They’re…different. Dysfunctional, even.
They can hurt you and abuse you in so many different ways…
If you have one of these families.
There are ways to break free.
Even though it may not look like it.
You will find a way to get out.
And people are willing to help you.
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