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#mocking
Distraction corrupts you. As you lack interest. I am just, noise. Your ears are cushioned; absorbing a buzz. Just listen to me, respect me. Mocking me as I try to be civil. You belittle me. And the buzzing stops. Your head finally turns. You slapped the fly, and its juices neatly seat the bench, and you stare, and you don't care. I slump, melting. Clenching my jaw. You pluck my wings, and I let you. My dignity stripped. Your ego; unrestrained, unrestricted. You just watch, as my eyes blurt a river.
0
Jul 19, 2025
Jul 19, 2025 at 3:58 AM UTC
It'll Never Be Love.
Don't tell me that's it, That vague speck over yonder A classic rabbit food metaphor, Dangling in my line of sight forever A couple clicks past my ability to care And six feet beneath every single nightmare I sense it senses I'm past the point of repair And headed nowhere It mocks my thousand-yard stare The hidden damage from trying to fight fair Habitually a day late and a dollar short of the right fare But you know what they say about fair ©2024
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Sep 23, 2024
Sep 23, 2024 at 5:19 PM UTC
~•§•~ A Fair Future ~•§•~
You took a sip of my pain, And mocked your fellow man. Take the whole bottle- Let's see if your Still standing Man By Darren Wall ©
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Sep 10, 2024
Sep 10, 2024 at 3:05 AM UTC
Pain
Casper That's the name they gave me The intentions weren't friendly They used it mockingly Albeit creatively Because my skin was alabaster pasty, I was Jack Skelington skinny And, apparently, My blond hair and blue eyes weren't manly So then, I embraced it and turned it on them ceremoniously No more Casper the Friendly, Just Casper the Deadly Turned to the ghost that gave nightmares to Freddy Made the devil look heavenly That persona went at any and every enemy But now that I'm 40 I've let that part of me leave me Though it was the only part of me that believed in me The scratched up side of my flipped penny ...I miss is secretly... ©2024
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Aug 5, 2024
Aug 5, 2024 at 7:21 PM UTC
~•§•~ They Gave Me a Name ~•§•~
They're voices hit me like hardened citrus Thrown at my curled body on the floor their laughter is hurting me their smiles are my scars Band-aids and mocking inside I'm breaking everyone else loves me the way I am so why can't they?
0
Mar 14, 2021
Mar 14, 2021 at 4:27 PM UTC
Verbal
He sat at the edge of the Earth, and night after night, the moon told secrets to his mocking blue eyes, secrets that no one else could ever, ever begin to understand.
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Feb 24, 2021
Feb 24, 2021 at 12:59 AM UTC
Secrets
dancing imitating mocking We dance through the atmosphere of imitation. Imitating, I am not the only one who got this feeling. Mocking, you were mocking when I caught you innocent; I know, you love me.
0
Feb 23, 2020
Feb 23, 2020 at 5:41 AM UTC
Mocking
I suspected this day was coming Now that it's finally here Realize I'm not ready Face my biggest fear I want to stop desperately Seems I've tried a lot Every time I am ready Stubborn addiction is not The drugs grab control of me Steer me straight into a wall Pull me back into the ditch Doesn't matter how many times I go through withdrawal I have learned my lesson the hard way Much too often to count Then again the hard way The only way I've known about Let the ocean take away I drown in blue misery Wash up on some greener shores World that in comparison is easy Do not smoke if you can't handle the heat You're afraid of getting burned Flames always steal a part Once gone not always returned I have given up on finding myself Buried pieces too deep Intention was to plant them No harvest grows to reap So remain trapped in a cycle Strapped by only threads Running from my demons Tires me as sickness spreads No one coming to save me I've toppled overboard Danced on the very edge This is my reward Consume me as I spiral down Watch me crash in an explosion Go enjoy the show Not what I have chosen When eyes can't stand my reflection Monster staring back Use to blur the edges To smudge all that I lack Time is always running One minute after the next Door to sobriety is always open In the moment hesitating perplexed Do not quit because I don't know how I've done it once before Daydreaming past recovery Cannot remember what I did it for When the silence starts mocking me Following a great and heavy pause or two Hold my hand tightly It will pull me through
0
Dec 21, 2019
Dec 21, 2019 at 5:05 AM UTC
I Knew This Day Was Coming
I suspected this day was coming Now that it's finally here Realize I'm not ready Face my biggest fear I want to stop desperately Seems I've tried a lot Every time I am ready Stubborn addiction is not The drugs grab control of me Steer me straight into a wall Pull me back into the ditch Doesn't matter how many times I go through withdrawal I have learned my lesson the hard way Much too often to count Then again the hard way The only way I've known about Let the ocean take away I drown in blue misery Wash up on some greener shores World that in comparison is easy Do not smoke if you can't handle the heat You're afraid of getting burned Flames always steal a part Once gone not always returned I have given up on finding myself Buried pieces too deep Intention was to plant them No harvest grows to reap So remain trapped in a cycle Strapped by only threads Running from my demons Tires me as sickness spreads No one coming to save me I've toppled overboard Danced on the very edge This is my reward Consume me as I spiral down Watch me crash in an explosion Go enjoy the show Not what I have chosen When eyes can't stand my reflection Monster staring back Use to blur the edges To smudge all that I lack Time is always running One minute after the next Door to sobriety is always open In the moment hesitating perplexed Do not quit because I don't know how I've done it once before Daydreaming past recovery Cannot remember what I did it for When the silence starts mocking me Following a great and heavy pause or two Hold my hand tightly It will pull me through
Continue reading...
56
the mountains keep laughing, and mocking me from afar. they keep mocking the useless attempts i make to feel like i’m worth to feel like i really am enough. they keep pointing at me telling me i’ll never be like my little brothers’ violin; or that i won’t ever be as clever as bright as wit as my big brother is. they keep reminding me that i won’t ever be as sufficient as i want to be.
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Dec 20, 2019
Dec 20, 2019 at 11:26 PM UTC
insufficient
Oh! The seas of negativity Snickers, stares, and sneers Lost and drowned, no opportunity Trapped within our jeers And (Look!) we swim and find our way Confused when they get left behind Worked twice as hard for no delay Dismissed outright with (Never mind!) Oh! Our eyes of pity stare There with care, but not their friend They not seen, only the chair Proud to show the hand we lend Yet they ignore those smirking eyes and brush those pity eyes And proud they stand, work times ten: Knowing themselves the wise
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Apr 8, 2019
Apr 8, 2019 at 12:43 PM UTC
Breaking Free
taunting, like my childhood bully on the blacktop of the elementary school i once attended. poking me all over. tormenting me. the mocking laughter. kicking me in the ribs, until i ran out of air. that's what our memories feel like
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Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 11:51 AM UTC
memories; a bully
The land under the moonlight; Nothing but a silhouette. The night sky Filled with childish dreams. By daybreak you can see that day is darker then the night. Earth is a cold bitter world mocking the weak.
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Feb 27, 2019
Feb 27, 2019 at 8:59 AM UTC
Mocking earth
you wrapped your unending vulnerability inside a cocoon of every single one of the foul deeds you committed. every shameful secret you bought to life. and you wonder why you can never grow strong. why the only part of you that can take a hit is the armour you bought for far too little to bleed into your blood stream and offer your body the support your degenerate being can't supply.
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Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 8:42 AM UTC
for you brittle is a compliment
I sit here lost in my thoughts , soaking up with the happenings I caught A luminous face of olive white , the brightest eyes of ocean blue staring into mine. Would you believe ? Slowing down of time? I did As she turned her head That luminous face changed form Barely grasping my sight, Like the breeze before the storm, The storm I only wish I witnessed. Seeing her walk away in the most graceful stlye, I wonder if her peach lips had reflected a smile !! As she brushed her hair behind her ear, A Sensed a gentle breeze pushing me out of senses Was she mocking my reality ? Was I wrong? My spring was here a lil late I only wish I could have taken a glimpse of her eyes I only wish to prove myself the reality...
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Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 11:51 AM UTC
The girl who questioned my reality : part 1
“Do you know why I despise this hallway?” I asked him. “No,” he replied. For a split moment there was no sound, just our step that echoed. “Why?” He asked me back. “Because the emptiness mocked me.” I answered. —dbnzvrt
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Jul 1, 2018
Jul 1, 2018 at 6:08 AM UTC
The art of mocking
What are kings, if not selfish cruel creatures, thrones built of sacrifices, the blind lambs of faith. Their misdeeds, their whims being the guiding path. Will, paving the concrete path of others. But, though brow beaten, the knight cries. "To what shalt we be if not without the guidance of kings, kissed by the angels of the holy, blessed beneath the stars? What of the olive branch they provide? Of the prospering and the peasantry." Oh, how they cry within their armoured shells, suffocating under their oaths. Unspoken promises to their god, their king,
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Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 4:45 PM UTC
Kings,
I will not waste time counting losses They only bring me down If I allow my brain to think In my thoughts I'll surely drown I have built a bridge over memories To escape rapid flow A rail so I don't tumble Into dangerous swells below As long as I remain detached Distant from usual pain I am able to harness meager cheer Keep myself from going insane I feel a strengthening in my blood A wanting no longer there I have laid away former distractions In favor of clean vacant air I have done away with disorder At least the negative kind I am going to forget my bad habits Regain the lost parts of my mind No more whining or self-deprecation Or wanting to change who I will be I am tossing out the mocking past Finally embracing beautiful me
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May 26, 2018
May 26, 2018 at 4:50 PM UTC
Finally Embracing Me
Regret and Heartache Paralized me
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Dec 6, 2017
Dec 6, 2017 at 6:52 PM UTC
The Side Effect
Thinking you were breaking my soul Oh, little did you know A heart made of stone Is it me you wanted to mock? Truth is; I'm still standing Wishing you could turn the clock around Regrets now sinking in A little too late, don't you think? Better you wanted And it's all I could offer Knowing that the best is yet to come Your impatience misleading you Now look where it got you Down and out, overwhelmed by regrets
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Sep 3, 2016
Sep 3, 2016 at 12:41 PM UTC
Regrets
There lies a black line Drawn through this self-hated name And a mocking smile on the walls WHEN I STRUGGLE, ALL IN VAIN
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Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 4:24 AM UTC
Self-Hate
*When I'm with you Time ticks so fast Like a lightening bolt When I'm not with you Time slows down Like a small snail*
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Mar 12, 2016
Mar 12, 2016 at 12:03 PM UTC
Time plays games
Atop the frail ego she mounts her merciless machine gun with which she mows down any speckle of personality that dares flicker amongst her immediate surroundings, until only her presence alone can remain untarnished and unfettered by sadistic, sardonically summarized ridicule, luminous and majestically radiating with solitary supremacy. Oh, the splendorous grandeur of self-indicted superiority, the rush of power and authority from diminishing another's essence with ruthless categorical association, the incomparable ecstasy of using their own positive attributes as their rudimentary flaws. Viscerally volatile, the cocking of the mocking gun's hammer is to be recognized as the phrase "You're just trying to be______". This is critical, for all too well she knows to a certainty that at the most essential level, one is only simply trying to be. And when you attack a person's will to try, their will to be, then you are taking aim at the one vital aspect of their existence which they hold any discernible dominion over: their character. The slaying is heinous and orgasmically fulfilling, for how can the perennial, separatist worship of Self be indulged in among so many of these "others"? But oh how exhausting it must be, the perpetually cyclic nature of the task. How can she ***** a light that doesn't exude from a distant source, but is a brother beam of the source they share? How does she extinguish the reflection of a flame off the water? Like fireflies on summer nights they disappear only to reappear again, somewhere else, reminding her of the irrevocable, irreducible power of being born and reborn again in the new moment. The self-aware ******** audacious enough to love themselves. How much of it do they really think they can withstand? Reload.
0
Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 8:53 AM UTC
Identity Theft
Atop the frail ego she mounts her merciless machine gun with which she mows down any speckle of personality that dares flicker amongst her immediate surroundings, until only her presence alone can remain untarnished and unfettered by sadistic, sardonically summarized ridicule, luminous and majestically radiating with solitary supremacy. Oh, the splendorous grandeur of self-indicted superiority, the rush of power and authority from diminishing another's essence with ruthless categorical association, the incomparable ecstasy of using their own positive attributes as their rudimentary flaws. Viscerally volatile, the cocking of the mocking gun's hammer is to be recognized as the phrase "You're just trying to be______". This is critical, for all too well she knows to a certainty that at the most essential level, one is only simply trying to be. And when you attack a person's will to try, their will to be, then you are taking aim at the one vital aspect of their existence which they hold any discernible dominion over: their character. The slaying is heinous and orgasmically fulfilling, for how can the perennial, separatist worship of Self be indulged in among so many of these "others"? But oh how exhausting it must be, the perpetually cyclic nature of the task. How can she ***** a light that doesn't exude from a distant source, but is a brother beam of the source they share? How does she extinguish the reflection of a flame off the water? Like fireflies on summer nights they disappear only to reappear again, somewhere else, reminding her of the irrevocable, irreducible power of being born and reborn again in the new moment. The self-aware ******** audacious enough to love themselves. How much of it do they really think they can withstand? Reload.
Continue reading...
2
Dreadful Mocking Torturous screams They keep on repeating the same things Threatened Defeated Hopeless and scared When she smiles, no one is aware Crying ****** Hurt little girl Pretends to be fine for the rest of the world Happy Laughing Faking a smile This can only last for a while Broken Speechless Breathing but dead These are the voices inside my head
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Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 11:43 PM UTC
the voices in my head
It's late at night and my mind is at its worse. I guess the pressure of things falling into place is hard for me, but it shouldn't be. I guess the thoughts i  have of everyone leaving me is now becoming a reality , and the one relationship I'm suppose to value, no longer feels valuable. So my mind begins to search for all the loose ends trying to put them back together in hopes that it will get better. " who am I kidding", saying it will get better Is like saying the Great Wall of China was built in a day,  because getting better is one of those things that with a mind like mine we live off of believing will come true. I wrote a letter the other day, a letter of hatred to all the people who have ever hurt me. In that letter the only person that seemed to hurt me was "me". It was my own reflection in the mirror. As if it appeared to be mocking me.
0
Jun 2, 2015
Jun 2, 2015 at 7:50 AM UTC
Late night