#psychologicalpoetry - Hello Poetry

Hanging by a vine No longer out of line For hanging by a noose They’ll write it off as a truce That you’ve given up and died Oh how sadly you denied The thought that you refused The fact you were amused A voice outside their head Better gone instead No time to negotiate Never once up for debate Someone they cannot protect Someone they can now neglect

0

Apr 14

Apr 14, 2026 at 10:55 PM UTC

GooseAnanoose

Hanging by a vine

Hanging by a vine No longer out of line For hanging by a noose They’ll write it off as a truce That you’ve given up and died Oh how sadly you denied The thought that you refused The fact you were amused A voice outside their head Better gone instead No time to negotiate Never once up for debate Someone they cannot protect Someone they can now neglect

14

Reform Conform **** If only for the thrill Delude Elude Deceive The truth they can’t conceive Fell Unwell Joke But they love to see them choke He She I’ve Why you left me to survive Pen Then Nein Now only six remain

0

Apr 14

Apr 14, 2026 at 10:51 PM UTC

GooseAnanoose

6 Remain

Reform Conform **** If only for the thrill Delude Elude Deceive The truth they can’t conceive Fell Unwell Joke But they love to see them choke He She I’ve Why you left me to survive Pen Then Nein Now only six remain

20

We’ll end this entry here, my eager readers. Soon my secret will come to light. Maybe in the next entry. Or maybe not. So you may finally judge me a judgment I don’t care for, but would still like to have. Till we meet again, I remain- Lavender

0

Mar 24

Mar 24, 2026 at 5:32 AM UTC

Princess08

Caution: This Poem May Contain ****** (The Exit)

We’ll end this entry here, my eager readers. Soon my secret will come to light. Maybe in the next entry. Or maybe not. So you may finally judge me a judgment I don’t care for, but would still like to have. Till we meet again, I remain- Lavender

12

Anyway, let’s talk about that scumbag. He went off the cliff. After drinking our liquor room dry, carving “tattoos” into my skin, and leaving me with a bruised eye. He went out laughing— and found himself at the edge of a cliff, with me pulled along by my hair. I won’t tell you what led to what. But at the end of it, he was at the bottom. And I was “frantically” running home to call an ambulance, praying quietly for vultures to arrive before help did. Questions were asked. Oh well.

0

Mar 22

Mar 22, 2026 at 10:17 AM UTC

Princess08

Caution: This Poem May Contain ****** (The Incident)

Anyway, let’s talk about that scumbag. He went off the cliff. After drinking our liquor room dry, carving “tattoos” into my skin, and leaving me with a bruised eye. He went out laughing— and found himself at the edge of a cliff, with me pulled along by my hair. I won’t tell you what led to what. But at the end of it, he was at the bottom. And I was “frantically” running home to call an ambulance, praying quietly for vultures to arrive before help did. Questions were asked. Oh well.

25

If you’re reading this, you’re probably expecting a neat little description of the author. Sorry to disappoint you, you won’t get one. What you will get are the questions that haunt me, the answers I avoid, and the explanations I’ve rehearsed a thousand times in my head. Should I begin with the secret I’ve been hiding— the one I’m desperate and terrified to reveal? You might be lucky and uncover it. Either way, I wish you the best of luck. Some of you may call me cruel, unfeeling. But in the kind of world I’ve lived in, it’s better that way. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t cry when my brother died. I could have saved him. But why would I? It’s not like he would have done the same for me.

0

Mar 21

Mar 21, 2026 at 3:56 PM UTC

Princess08

Caution: This Poem May Contain ****** (Intro)

If you’re reading this, you’re probably expecting a neat little description of the author. Sorry to disappoint you, you won’t get one. What you will get are the questions that haunt me, the answers I avoid, and the explanations I’ve rehearsed a thousand times in my head. Should I begin with the secret I’ve been hiding— the one I’m desperate and terrified to reveal? You might be lucky and uncover it. Either way, I wish you the best of luck. Some of you may call me cruel, unfeeling. But in the kind of world I’ve lived in, it’s better that way. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t cry when my brother died. I could have saved him. But why would I? It’s not like he would have done the same for me.

30