Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
XyL0S Oct 2018
.


My ears still find their way
near mouths
who are likely to label me
as Beautiful,

Somehow
their opinion
makes it
more real;
believable,
I doubt my own sincerity
Am I not bound to be
partial
to myself?

Am I?
When half the time
I'm not myself
at all.

.
gracie Sep 2018
there is something about me
that needs love.
i need love.
i have never admitted that to myself
but i need it.

no one wants to stay around for long,
maybe I’m too abrasive.
i’m not for everyone;
an acquired taste.

my family thinks it’s hard to love me.
the love of my life wants nothing to do with me.

i like keeping people on a string.
pulling them behind me like a pet.

i never believed my father when he called me a user
but i guess it is true.

i use people.
i use my body,
to get the love from other people
that i cannot find in myself
Sarah Jul 2018
the only way I could ever love myself is if I can look with rose colored glasses
but my vision is clear; lenses untinted and I can see all that I bare.
Written 07/26/2018
Dark Ink May 2018
i can't remember when mirrors became a thing to fear;
something to avoid.

i can't remember when food became the enemy;
something to hate.

i can't remember when makeup became a mask;
something to be required.

i can't remember when my body became a bad thing;
or something to be ashamed of.
AD Snail Jul 2017
I remember the interrogation room,
I can still hear the voices boom,
Each question that was in burned inside my head,
Has informed and destroyed me.

I can still feel,
The clock of time, ticking by,
It's keeps reminding me,
This argument keeps going on and on,
And we both know we are done.

I don't have a voice lawyer,
That can talk back and defend me.
So I have to sit and take it.

The room is growing smaller,
Which is quite concerning because it was quite tiny already.  

My interrogators want me to talk,
But they only want to hear what they want to hear.  
So I stay silent, because I can't give them what they want.

They keep shining this spotlight on me,
And I feel so small, maybe there winning,
Because I just keep agreeing.

When I leave this interrogation room,
I know I’ll change myself all of again,
Because I aim to please,
And I never wish to go through that ever again.
Brent Kincaid Mar 2017
And for those of you who don’t
Find Trump to be pernicious,
He shows his *** to one and all,
I hope you find it is delicious.
For those of you who lived in
Dream castles of foolish hope
You have backed an evil man
A charlatan and a dope.

If you tried hard and long
You could not have done worse
And that is the reason for
This neener neener verse.
I can’t think how he could
Have warned you any better.
He promised things intelligence
Could discredit by the letter.

He said he would do stuff
So totally unconstitutional,
That made the rich richer,
And proved you were delusional
To trust a total ripoff guy
Who has been cheating for years.
Why did you think this fool
Would allay any of your fears?

But still you all waved high
His stupid Chinese-made hats;
Bought him gold and diamond studs
For his brand new fancy spats.
And now he’s in the Capitol
Laughing at all of you dolts
YOU gave him weapons to use on you
Instead of a thousand volts.
Brent Kincaid Feb 2017
I must have been raised wrong,
I believe in being generous.
I think people should be loved;
That meanness can be onerous.
I have seen what evil does
And I want no more of that.
I don’t think that selfishness
Will really feed the captain’s cat.

I have watched back biters
And gossips and thieves
Bring themselves all unawares
To the point where everyone grieves.
I have witnessed liars who get
Tripped up on their own tales;
Regular folks and politicians
Get the air taken from their sails.

I know well that our elderly
Have already done their job
So it’s fine with me if they just
Sit around and act like slobs.
They took care of us when we
Were the indolent folks kids are
So, they are entitled to rest,
More than we are, by far.

I was raised to let people be
If they had some philosophy
That did not match mine
Or even the vast majority.
Someone thinks a different way
That’s fine if it hurts no one.
Not everybody thinks the same
Carnival rides are that much fun.

I saw for myself that people
Were individual in so many ways.
Different in how they dressed
And what they had to say.
Some liked sports TV
And many preferred the soaps.
All of that is fine with me
So, why call each other dopes?

Is there something wrong with me
That I don’t go along with the crowd?
That I don’t enjoy the fights,
The sports fans shouting out loud?
Am I silly for not slowing down
When I pass a wreck on the highway?
Well, if I am, then that is fine.
I will go on doing things my way.
Brent Kincaid Sep 2016
Why aren't you ashamed
Of yourself, your friends
Of anyone around you
That chooses to pretend
That some people are
Somehow lesser beings?
How can you all sleep
With that kind of feeling?

Did somebody close to you
Get inside of your mind
And coach you every day
To be deaf mute and blind
To the beauty of people
And all the good they do
If they were created
A bit different than you?

Did some crazy crook
On some show on teevee
Tell you it will be fine
If you hate them and me
Because we demand
The right to just be?
Who has mistrained you
To despise equality?

If the people around you
Hear such talk and approve
Why did you not decide
To get up and move?
Instead you have chosen
To point fingers and blame
People who are innocent
Why aren't you ashamed?
Next page