#fuckthisshit - Hello Poetry

i've held the knife felt the cold edge of the blade against my throat my wrist that tiny voice inside me screaming with joy 'it'll all be over' 'pull the plug!' i'm terrified of living. of enduring this ceaseless torment day after day after day seething, writhing, floundering in an ocean of pain but the terror of attempting and being left unsuccessful scares me even more. the fear of failure in every aspect of my life it comes back and bites you in the back when you finally had the chance to be free end it all it chains you down and keeps you there watching you struggle i can't escape it the endless ******* cycle of self doubt and fear so i'm still here seething, writhing, floundering in an ocean of pain.

0

Jun 2, 2025

Jun 2, 2025 at 11:53 AM UTC

ivorymusings

coward

i've held the knife felt the cold edge of the blade against my throat my wrist that tiny voice inside me screaming with joy 'it'll all be over' 'pull the plug!' i'm terrified of living. of enduring this ceaseless torment day after day after day seething, writhing, floundering in an ocean of pain but the terror of attempting and being left unsuccessful scares me even more. the fear of failure in every aspect of my life it comes back and bites you in the back when you finally had the chance to be free end it all it chains you down and keeps you there watching you struggle i can't escape it the endless ******* cycle of self doubt and fear so i'm still here seething, writhing, floundering in an ocean of pain.

20

I’ve forgotten the taste of love. The cherished threads that tie people together. The feelings they profess in supposed honesty, the joy and ecstasy. I’ve missed opportunities, naturally. Nature played me. Distraught, I ran from a thought. I ran a lot. At the gates of responsibility’s exit, I had another thought. One without definition or reason. Another ego maniacal ***** fit. A watered down vintage. Faked antique. Off balance in a world out of balance, yet fools think they cancel each other out. Sometimes it’s enough to lighten the load — fill the hole. Usually not. Escaping reality has its perks. You don’t feel bludgeoned by your actions or burdened by their consequences. I think of the past as a mirror, when it’s really just a sprightly melancholic, yet gut wrenching, novel awaiting a squeal. And I’m the only one who can write it. Expecting anyone else to would make the end predictable. This is how all sad ironies of life must end. Off the top of my head. I’ve forgotten myself. I sometimes can’t recognize the person inside this shell. These actions, thoughts, this ego — I am more than I know or understand. Not necessarily a bad thing. Most definitely not a good thing either. Come out guns blazing and paint the town only to apologize profusely — to each and every rotten corpse thereafter — to each and every ***** **** and dripping **** I am not your savior. I make my own hell. I made this bed the day I claimed my throne. And all your dreams flew into my **** ready to be ****** and multiplied. Progenies of your inner war. The cruelty of your being made thought, sin made flesh, hate made speech. A victim of the false promise, the martyr of a hollow conscience. I am the end result of my own intentions. I hate this.

0

Jun 16, 2017

Jun 16, 2017 at 4:59 AM UTC

13

Off my head and into my ****

I’ve forgotten the taste of love. The cherished threads that tie people together. The feelings they profess in supposed honesty, the joy and ecstasy. I’ve missed opportunities, naturally. Nature played me. Distraught, I ran from a thought. I ran a lot. At the gates of responsibility’s exit, I had another thought. One without definition or reason. Another ego maniacal ***** fit. A watered down vintage. Faked antique. Off balance in a world out of balance, yet fools think they cancel each other out. Sometimes it’s enough to lighten the load — fill the hole. Usually not. Escaping reality has its perks. You don’t feel bludgeoned by your actions or burdened by their consequences. I think of the past as a mirror, when it’s really just a sprightly melancholic, yet gut wrenching, novel awaiting a squeal. And I’m the only one who can write it. Expecting anyone else to would make the end predictable. This is how all sad ironies of life must end. Off the top of my head. I’ve forgotten myself. I sometimes can’t recognize the person inside this shell. These actions, thoughts, this ego — I am more than I know or understand. Not necessarily a bad thing. Most definitely not a good thing either. Come out guns blazing and paint the town only to apologize profusely — to each and every rotten corpse thereafter — to each and every ***** **** and dripping **** I am not your savior. I make my own hell. I made this bed the day I claimed my throne. And all your dreams flew into my **** ready to be ****** and multiplied. Progenies of your inner war. The cruelty of your being made thought, sin made flesh, hate made speech. A victim of the false promise, the martyr of a hollow conscience. I am the end result of my own intentions. I hate this.

24

I'm walking in darkness All alone Remains of the dead beneath my feet The living has long gone Black clouds thunder up high Stars appear to fade The fire is falling from the sky Cold wind blows across my face The leaves are falling from the trees Circling around me I hear them say "look we are finally free" Ready to go our own way I envy them Wish i could take their place And fly away with the wind In search of a forgotten face The night is becoming cold A strange silence is all around I can hear my heart beat Loneliness is all i have found The winds are becoming stronger And smell of defeat is in the air It feels like they'll blow forever Until I am here I see cursed souls surround me Haunted by their dreams All day they just hide around me Come about at nights to scream I have walked for many days now Every new day marks beginning of me It may seem For every night i get old and die To walk in my broken dreams *I have already surrendered To the cursed dark of slumber*

0

Oct 19, 2015

Oct 19, 2015 at 11:15 AM UTC

aviisevil

the cursed dark of slumber

I'm walking in darkness All alone Remains of the dead beneath my feet The living has long gone Black clouds thunder up high Stars appear to fade The fire is falling from the sky Cold wind blows across my face The leaves are falling from the trees Circling around me I hear them say "look we are finally free" Ready to go our own way I envy them Wish i could take their place And fly away with the wind In search of a forgotten face The night is becoming cold A strange silence is all around I can hear my heart beat Loneliness is all i have found The winds are becoming stronger And smell of defeat is in the air It feels like they'll blow forever Until I am here I see cursed souls surround me Haunted by their dreams All day they just hide around me Come about at nights to scream I have walked for many days now Every new day marks beginning of me It may seem For every night i get old and die To walk in my broken dreams *I have already surrendered To the cursed dark of slumber*

36

I know it’s like getting hit at 120 waking up a week later with fractured ribs, a cut in my skull, a feeling of uselessness in my limbs, and a chronic mental trauma meanwhile all you got are ****** bruises caused by the airbag that at least saved you despite that, a dent in the quarter panel, minor damage to the bumpers and it’s all ******* covered by an insurance company the headlines will be filled with something like reckless imprudence resulting to physical injuries but you won’t need your lawyers anymore because I promise you I will take the blame anyway

0

Oct 6, 2015

Oct 6, 2015 at 12:00 PM UTC

unbreaking

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I know it’s like getting hit at 120 waking up a week later with fractured ribs, a cut in my skull, a feeling of uselessness in my limbs, and a chronic mental trauma meanwhile all you got are ****** bruises caused by the airbag that at least saved you despite that, a dent in the quarter panel, minor damage to the bumpers and it’s all ******* covered by an insurance company the headlines will be filled with something like reckless imprudence resulting to physical injuries but you won’t need your lawyers anymore because I promise you I will take the blame anyway

22

**** studying. to hell with it. this isn't a haiku. **** it.

0

Jun 8, 2014

Jun 8, 2014 at 9:03 PM UTC

the-ginger-bread-man

a haiku about studying.

**** studying. to hell with it. this isn't a haiku. **** it.

4