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#crippling
A bad hand delt, a crippling hopelessness felt In possession of a heart that can't and won't melt Whipped unmercifully with a tanned hide belt So often in fact it no longer leaves a welt Only a lonely darkness under this human pelt Always knew when the fear was near by how bad it smelt And out of respect, or maybe terror, every time it arrived, I knelt ©2023
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Nov 17, 2023
Nov 17, 2023 at 7:06 PM UTC
~•§•~ Pains Arrival ~•§•~
I throw away a tube of toothpaste to discover it was the last one. In bitter defeat I fish the toothpaste out of the trash and attempt to squeeze out, once more, a morsel of toothpaste.
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Jun 2, 2021
Jun 2, 2021 at 11:27 AM UTC
Crippling defeat
I wish I could breathe Your words are crushing Stop lying Saying you were loving me Some sort of love story you've thought up in your head. Darling you just hurt me, soon I'll be dead. My lungs are crippling, crumbling like paper Little tiny rips in my skin with sandpaper breaking me apart so very slowly this isn't love I can tell, because I'm so lonely.
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Jun 15, 2019
Jun 15, 2019 at 3:53 PM UTC
Let Me Breathe
thoughts boggled in as your heart thumps within the silent waves that only you can hear the walls have glistened as the voices arrived it was out of nowhere you'll feel the motion; petrified
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Apr 3, 2019
Apr 3, 2019 at 2:43 PM UTC
anxiety
A wall made of my happiest thoughts, Closing in, a broken environment collapsing at last, A hole in the ceiling allows a closer look, To the freedom lost in mere seconds, Trapped within one's self, unable to escape, The hollow body wanders through the landscape, Seeking for a piece to become whole again, Searching for the fragments of a shattered conscious, Never succeeding in this mighty mission, Endlessly, fleeting through the despair of incompletion, Erased colors draw a grey painted world, Whilst the incarcerated one suffers with each step taken, Not being able to open one's eyes, nor even protect the heart once embodied by the enlighting feeling of love, Fallen into the endless abyss, unable to advance, These happy thoughts mark the end, And also the very beginning, Of eternal slumber. ~ Umi
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Jan 31, 2019
Jan 31, 2019 at 6:06 PM UTC
Wall
Warning!         "Do not enter,          It's dark inside" Blood-curdling sites on a puzzling path; Raging rivers; a thunderstorm rumbled and broke the silence of the hazy afternoon My body shivered as the wind flicked at my bared arms. As I wander through this straggled path, humiliation continues to interfere Frightened; brooding eyes crippling feeling— I think there's no turning back. A fragile cage covered with pale greyish green lichens caught my eyes, an unshackled monster hiding behind those camouflaged woods those blood red eyes glare in an interminable way— dread creeping in. THERE'S NO WAY OUT! But I need to escape this delusional place Should I jump off the cliff? stuck in this maze thoughts in my mind suffocating me, can't breathe! Can't escape; lost in the dark, and slipped! Hanging on a rugged cliff; mouth shut tight when I scream, "HELP ME!" Can't hold it long the mistakes I made, Is this the pain that i'm dealing with? Is my life still worth it? Bleed until I was broken Deep inside it's tellin' me to end it all, Maybe I should So I must die
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Dec 24, 2018
Dec 24, 2018 at 3:39 PM UTC
My Melancholy Soul
What would it take to make a grown man cry? When the only thing important to him shoots themself and dies And nobody realized what was going through her mind til she loaded one in the chamber and put it between her eyes And her soul goes up to the skies And everyone's asking why She was young, loving and selfless It wasn't her time to die It's only when it's too late That's when everybody tries And it's only when it's too late Now that's when everybody cries So tell your loved ones they matter and you might save their lives 'Cause it's only when it's too late Now that's when everybody cries
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Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 9:58 AM UTC
Wipe Their Tears
A rhetorical question finds me asking (to no one in particular) why I recall the names of grade school teachers approximately fifty years ago (whose names listed below), when the need to retrieve necessary information due ring examinations (less time ago) often found me seized with sudden inability to remember any vital ants sirs (even including my name), thus grudgingly handing over blank test paper analogously surrendering a vital document gracing terms of defeat into the scaly claws (zen nay), sans first to sixth grade Precambrian relic (Missus Batson, Missus Rittenhouse, Missus Wells, Mister Stout, Missus Shaner, or Miss Rinderle). Invariably majority of first thru sixth grade accorded accredited ancient authenticated creatures. They freely exercised diabolical churlish ******** animalistic zeal us yakking, wickedly unprintable upon (unprincipled urchin) at receiving end of fiendishly grue some hellish instructions. Assign ments buttressed with ultimatums harkening back to Jurassic period earlier in dawning primate con sciousness. Lesson material kindled with justifiable license in league with garnered insignia. Heft to bring pupils to heal predicated via warp and weft woven wonder fully. Wrought writs welcomed whips with warranty whenever recalcitrant ruffian refused respecting reptilian rubric repre sentative rattling (The Idler Wheel Is Wiser Than the Driver of the ***** and Whipping Cords Will Serve You More Than Ropes Will Ever Do), which loosely rendered regularly warbled wishy washy verse curmudgeons freedom granted to interpret as one decrepit, hawkish insignia certified one beaming Eve and/ or stud deed brute soffit. Education often relied on the weekly reader, and letters to and/or from Aunt Emma. Nefarious mean linkedin kickstarter jawboning torturous treatment tolerated, asper imps of the pervert, mutant Ninja Turtles duty bound antsy youthful yokel yodelers weathering ululating sing-song and quintessential precepts.
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Feb 1, 2018
Feb 1, 2018 at 4:28 PM UTC
Inexplicable memory quirkily unhinged
A rhetorical question finds me asking (to no one in particular) why I recall the names of grade school teachers approximately fifty years ago (whose names listed below), when the need to retrieve necessary information due ring examinations (less time ago) often found me seized with sudden inability to remember any vital ants sirs (even including my name), thus grudgingly handing over blank test paper analogously surrendering a vital document gracing terms of defeat into the scaly claws (zen nay), sans first to sixth grade Precambrian relic (Missus Batson, Missus Rittenhouse, Missus Wells, Mister Stout, Missus Shaner, or Miss Rinderle). Invariably majority of first thru sixth grade accorded accredited ancient authenticated creatures. They freely exercised diabolical churlish ******** animalistic zeal us yakking, wickedly unprintable upon (unprincipled urchin) at receiving end of fiendishly grue some hellish instructions. Assign ments buttressed with ultimatums harkening back to Jurassic period earlier in dawning primate con sciousness. Lesson material kindled with justifiable license in league with garnered insignia. Heft to bring pupils to heal predicated via warp and weft woven wonder fully. Wrought writs welcomed whips with warranty whenever recalcitrant ruffian refused respecting reptilian rubric repre sentative rattling (The Idler Wheel Is Wiser Than the Driver of the ***** and Whipping Cords Will Serve You More Than Ropes Will Ever Do), which loosely rendered regularly warbled wishy washy verse curmudgeons freedom granted to interpret as one decrepit, hawkish insignia certified one beaming Eve and/ or stud deed brute soffit. Education often relied on the weekly reader, and letters to and/or from Aunt Emma. Nefarious mean linkedin kickstarter jawboning torturous treatment tolerated, asper imps of the pervert, mutant Ninja Turtles duty bound antsy youthful yokel yodelers weathering ululating sing-song and quintessential precepts.
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Roses are red Violets are blue Crippling depression Is not good for you Even though you think depression is good The crippling makes it not very good Jake searches up crippling depression But then he finds that he is depression You may think that this poem is bad You probably wont live to see another day So just be happy, and don't be sad Go follow @devenpawarr on instagram to remove your possible symptoms of crippling depression
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Dec 5, 2017
Dec 5, 2017 at 1:03 PM UTC
Crippling Depression
What you give me is what I receive, The feelings overloading and essentially controlling me are forcing the inner version of myself to ignore thee, Block off anyone who interferes with my life in the smallest of ways. Stress is enough, I can no longer think straight. Consistently titling to both ends of our path, I thought the starting would lead us somewhere beyond the fan stays of great, But I was kicked and left in the dust with the others, The prophecy unveiled itself, I was right since the beginning, but my witless gut remained oblivious to my emotionally unstable self and instead stayed behind with the real you. I grew attached to you, thinking everything for once would finally accumulate into one enjoyable entirety, But you shattered me both internally and externally, Now all I can focus on is how to fix these pieces back together. Before I loose touch upon myself once more, I ask anyone for forgiveness, begging on my knees for all to please. I wish to give the little portion of my purity and happiness to you, now, am I considered the wrong and careless one? Or are you, the heartless form of me?
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Nov 11, 2017
Nov 11, 2017 at 3:06 PM UTC
It is what it is.
You look lovely he said I smiled Thanks I giggled Little did he know That I was crippling inside l.t
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Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 8:33 AM UTC
Lovely
I started missing you early on. I started missing you while I was still with you. I missed you while I was sitting across from you while your grin still lit up my heart. I missed you while your mouth was on me with your tongue sending me into a spiral. I started missing you when I realized we wouldn't last. I started letting you go before I left you. I tried to pretend that that wasn't the case, I tried to stay oblivious. I should have left you the first time. I could have left you the first time, if I had just let myself face it. If I had faced the fact that you would only warm my bed for a small portion of my life. But I stayed long enough for you to latch on and begin building a home inside of my heart. It wasn't fair to either of us; I should have let you go the moment I started missing you, but I'm a hopeful dreamer. My kindness in the end hurt us more than it could have. But I still don't know what that means. Does that mean I should give up the second I'm unsure? That jaded lifestyle will leave me lonely. But I don't want to stay long enough to let it fester, for my heart to commit another naive suicide. Your presence may seem a cruel one for life to inflict on me, but life isn't supposed to be easy. You ignited a fire in me; A hungry desire to do better; One that was seemingly waiting to be lit. I've learned so much. You've helped me put things together, and to find some pieces. I curse life for breaking my heart like that But I beg it to do whatever it needs to do If I need to break Hundreds of times To become who it is I want to be Then so be it Life should not be bland I should experience everything there is to I feel like it's debatable on whether I can survive this Like if I have to face it again I won't be able to But I can And I will I will grow and become stronger Though it will ******* me still Sooner or later I'll begin to know What to give and what to leave to fate Though you seem big right now In comparison to the picture life will paint for me You are but a small part To a large masterpiece
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Jul 8, 2017
Jul 8, 2017 at 11:43 AM UTC
Life of a Hopeful Dreamer
I started missing you early on. I started missing you while I was still with you. I missed you while I was sitting across from you while your grin still lit up my heart. I missed you while your mouth was on me with your tongue sending me into a spiral. I started missing you when I realized we wouldn't last. I started letting you go before I left you. I tried to pretend that that wasn't the case, I tried to stay oblivious. I should have left you the first time. I could have left you the first time, if I had just let myself face it. If I had faced the fact that you would only warm my bed for a small portion of my life. But I stayed long enough for you to latch on and begin building a home inside of my heart. It wasn't fair to either of us; I should have let you go the moment I started missing you, but I'm a hopeful dreamer. My kindness in the end hurt us more than it could have. But I still don't know what that means. Does that mean I should give up the second I'm unsure? That jaded lifestyle will leave me lonely. But I don't want to stay long enough to let it fester, for my heart to commit another naive suicide. Your presence may seem a cruel one for life to inflict on me, but life isn't supposed to be easy. You ignited a fire in me; A hungry desire to do better; One that was seemingly waiting to be lit. I've learned so much. You've helped me put things together, and to find some pieces. I curse life for breaking my heart like that But I beg it to do whatever it needs to do If I need to break Hundreds of times To become who it is I want to be Then so be it Life should not be bland I should experience everything there is to I feel like it's debatable on whether I can survive this Like if I have to face it again I won't be able to But I can And I will I will grow and become stronger Though it will ******* me still Sooner or later I'll begin to know What to give and what to leave to fate Though you seem big right now In comparison to the picture life will paint for me You are but a small part To a large masterpiece
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The thought of you An uncertain utopia Shaky and tense To me makes little sense The way you look at me I come undone upon the seems Holding and gripping To keep my sanity is crippling You say you can love me from a distance But take this for instance If I said good riddance Would you see me as the menace?
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Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 1:17 PM UTC
MENACE
I’m so scared of what you’ll do to me. I push you away at the start because I care. I’m all cold fingers and neck as you inch closer. I know that giving my heart over to your hands is delicate and dangerous; I realise having it injured by you is more fatal than another, more blood loss, more bruises, more painful blossoms. I always want you nearer; no one can comfort as you can, until you turn off the lights for the night and all I see are abandoned impressions of you around my room. But I need to stop you. Right here. I need to keep you an arms length apart from me; stop you kissing and touching me. Not because I don’t want you; I will always reserve a place for you, always part of my dedication. I want you all over, from head to feet. But I need to stop myself from falling into the one abyss I know too well. I need to prevent you from loving me for a time, or at all. To keep you from breaking the blissful illusion I conjure; to keep you from lying to me about why you can’t love me anymore. To stop you from taking me over. To stop you from making me believe you are like all the others before you, inked and stabbed on my skin like knife cuts. To keep me from imagining you were never there; a dream that swirls with reality where it has no place. To ensure you don’t start picking me apart with your teeth, while I sleep, and you begin to fade. I don’t want to meet the same river of conclusions, fussing and moaning and screaming about the agony as you pull me apart one final time. Take what you need and run. Scoop it out like melting ice cream and disappear somewhere out of my reach yet close enough to invade me again when you need to. I don’t need to feel this again. With you of all people. So. Stop. This. Now.
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Aug 7, 2016
Aug 7, 2016 at 5:12 AM UTC
I'm Scared Of What You'll Do
I’m so scared of what you’ll do to me. I push you away at the start because I care. I’m all cold fingers and neck as you inch closer. I know that giving my heart over to your hands is delicate and dangerous; I realise having it injured by you is more fatal than another, more blood loss, more bruises, more painful blossoms. I always want you nearer; no one can comfort as you can, until you turn off the lights for the night and all I see are abandoned impressions of you around my room. But I need to stop you. Right here. I need to keep you an arms length apart from me; stop you kissing and touching me. Not because I don’t want you; I will always reserve a place for you, always part of my dedication. I want you all over, from head to feet. But I need to stop myself from falling into the one abyss I know too well. I need to prevent you from loving me for a time, or at all. To keep you from breaking the blissful illusion I conjure; to keep you from lying to me about why you can’t love me anymore. To stop you from taking me over. To stop you from making me believe you are like all the others before you, inked and stabbed on my skin like knife cuts. To keep me from imagining you were never there; a dream that swirls with reality where it has no place. To ensure you don’t start picking me apart with your teeth, while I sleep, and you begin to fade. I don’t want to meet the same river of conclusions, fussing and moaning and screaming about the agony as you pull me apart one final time. Take what you need and run. Scoop it out like melting ice cream and disappear somewhere out of my reach yet close enough to invade me again when you need to. I don’t need to feel this again. With you of all people. So. Stop. This. Now.
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