#tortured
my heart:
create/to create/arts/in all their forms and glory/language/to speak in the tongue you inherited from your mother/to speak to the dead/stars/to read them out loud like they are an open book/smell poetry in flowers and carcasses/to create/to influence/math/the bridge between art and science/a tortured poet/an astrologer/a mathematician/but i will be known/but i can’t put myself out there/but i have to/my heart lives for this.
my head:
go for it/but are you sure/they will scrutinize you like a forensic subject/i know but you can’t hold me back like this every time/my heart howls to change but you resist to change/i’m just keeping you safe because this world is not where you perform/but i only have this one life/let me get there/i can’t do it on my own/please.
Jan 29
Jan 29, 2026 at 4:18 AM UTC
I'm holding onto a makeshift raft sailing into a hurricane's wrath Tossed around in a sea of emotions trying to navigate a turbulent ocean The waves crash in mercilessly choppy waters, dangerous seas in the perils of uncharted territory drowning in tempestuous energy
Aug 17, 2025
Aug 17, 2025 at 9:37 AM UTC
I feel it in my bones
When im all alone
It gives my grief a home
Unexpected and unknown
The sadness keeps you with me
Heart breaking to the third degree
I thought our end would mean we're free
But your memory grows like a tree
All through my mind
I was evil, when you were kind
Puts my feelings in quite the bind
Guilt is all I seem to find
When you lose someone you used to defend,
New regrets surface you can't comprehend.
Now put on a smile and try to pretend,
But don’t forget—you created the end.
Five years ago
My true colors showed
My reply to you was no
I told you you needed to go
You said we can still be friends right
I said its not fair to fill your thoughts at night
Your future deserves clear eye sight
It was just like you to let me win that fight
You asked for a hug goodbye
Under a star filled dark night sky
When I said I never loved you , I lied
I never expected so soon you'd die
As I write this i am married
As for you, you'll soon be buried
Your casket wont be the only thing carried
As my tortured thoughts are no longer parried
So long to a former beau
You've opened wounds That have no way to sew
I always thought my feelings for you were faux
I didnt realize youd bring me to an all time low
Your karma will do its work
As your memory it will lurke
Because when you dropped dead at work
We both know it was me that was the merk
C.K. Orzen
Jul 11, 2025
Jul 11, 2025 at 6:56 PM UTC
Ribs on my chest,
slowly falling down
Filling them with nothing
Muscles and organs still intact
Yet, blood flows down on my rib cages,
As i watch and
pick them up by pieces
and so I breath,
just to check if my heart still there
Even had the urges to remove my own eye
I feel no pain but,
why i have to take the damage internally?
and all of that,
i heal the bruises but still…
May 25, 2025
May 25, 2025 at 11:35 PM UTC
Always assumed to be the villain,
Lingering in the shadows of a crooked path.
Am I misunderstood? Or is it just my destiny—
To be the star of my own one-man show? Isn’t it funny?
The irony is, promises were made.
Friendships did indeed fade.
But I am here, still at the restaurant,
Sitting in the corner I haunt.
A ghost of Christmas past,
Watching time slip through the cracks.
Thinking of the roads I never took,
And the weight of the past on my back.
Is redemption just a wishful dream?
Or a fate already cast?
I sit at the restaurant and I wonder-
When The Prophecy changes at last.
Feb 15, 2025
Feb 15, 2025 at 10:03 AM UTC
From afar, I see what looks like paradise—
Is this why I paid the price?
I endured hurricanes, rainstorms, and floods;
Yet nothing, I find, is thicker than blood.
As I approach the garden,
The waterfalls turn black,
Roses wilt,
Bushes burn,
Sand dunes lie unturned.
Still, it draws me—
Like a moth to the flame,
Like a bee to the flower.
I reach for a rose,
To admire its pose,
But scarlet-red blood ****** through my fingers,
Staining my white shirt.
Is this death—or rebirth?
Feb 6, 2025
Feb 6, 2025 at 11:40 PM UTC
i feel tortured in winter, the fog reminds me of good times
when my gray world turned to blue
i feel tortured in autumn, a season spent missing someone
a total love blackout
i feel tortured in summer, a summer meant to be full of love
turned to gray
i feel tortured to see rain, it reminds me of weeping nights
and when i was in pain
a tortured poet and his tortured seasons
a tortured poet forced to be tortured by torturous peoples
because of their torturous sin
a question why did i associated my memories
and made my seasons tortured?
Nov 29, 2024
Nov 29, 2024 at 12:33 AM UTC
On world poetry day
I'm a tortured poet
When my ambiguous words
And meanings
Touch your soul
Mar 21, 2024
Mar 21, 2024 at 2:07 PM UTC
The only role I ever land is "outcast tortured by the cruelty and pain of his past" I sure didn't choose this path, feels more as though I've been typecast, or maybe I am a ********* holding out for every last ounce of pain before I blast this trader living in my head for the last 30 years off my shoulders, through a window pane, then, just as fast, turn to the vast hole in my chest that once held my heart and press the cold steel to it with the mass of my dread firmly in my grasp, gun fire drowned out by echoing laughs, fulfilling a prophecy of my future while neglecting lessons from my past, the game of life feels less like a game of chance and more like a test that's harder to advance than all the rest and wouldn't you know it, I fell asleep in class and didn't pass, apparently I even tuned out the emergency broadcast. Went and amassed a losing record that'd be impressive if not for the direct contrast the win column presents and the enormous shadow my downfall casts. Harassed by the devil on each shoulder, I thought that maybe once I got older, if I could just stay on task and remain steadfast, I would be able to open a can of whoop a$$ and trespass the evil within this house of glass but alas I must telegraph my every move or they've seen a future telecast because they lambast each strike and I'm not sure I'll outlast these issues, I'm gassed, plus, problems have started showing up in mass from a much higher weight class, they must have bypassed the weigh in process but I've always known who the deck was stacked against, hence why I never win, I only survive and my methods would flabbergast most, the truth finds it's way to the surface and I find myself aghast, crying like I've been teargassed with no gas mask but I've surpassed the point where waterworks will bring forth empathy, gotta own my involvement in the crash, volunteer to take out my own trash and this time I'll throw my pain out with the bath water and be free at last...free at last, free at last, no thanks to god almighty I'll be free at last
©2021
Jan 8, 2021
Jan 8, 2021 at 5:10 AM UTC
I welcome every day with a facade dancing in the sun while in the shadows little by little my soul dies.
Hi, how are you? I'm fine.
What a lovely day.
No, please. Allow me. I write the most beautiful lies.
Dec 4, 2020
Dec 4, 2020 at 2:10 PM UTC
I spent my entire life
Getting hurt
Being mistreated
Used
Pain?
What's that
I've gotten so used
To all the bruises
To all the bleedings
I've gotten used to the verbal abuse
Emotional pain
And mental effect
Nothing can hurt my anymore
In fact
I've found comfort in pain
So hurt me
Like how people hurt people
Hurt me
It does not matter anymore
I will still hurt myself
At the end of the day
Pain keeps be safe
Pain makes me sane
May 25, 2020
May 25, 2020 at 1:09 AM UTC
At night, as the cool breeze starts to kick in.
At night, when only the moon lay above,
When only the leaves are there to bounce off sound,
When only my brain creates the storms we lack in this desert.
I think of Autumn.
That one Autumn that changed it all.
A strange occult sort of feeling.
A sort of divine period, a different worshiping.
The period, when autumn leaves were grey,
Skies were orange, and clouds were starry.
When I worshiped a Muse as a deity.
A period that haunts me at night till thus day.
Like a ghost, taunting me, haunting me.
She visits on most nights, sometimes in a different skin.
Like a chameleon, shifting from one to another.
Different looks, but the same sapphire eyes.
What torture is this? If it is at all torture?
Is this my judgement? My atonement for the wrong I did? If I did any wrong...
My mind lingers to find the hidden message.
To decipher the code that are those kisses at night.
My mind lingers, by my hands write.
In a swift Autumn breeze, out of grey leaves.
Slithers a severed snake from Medusa's head.
One of many to haunt me every night.
A different hiss, a familiar kiss.
Mar 5, 2020
Mar 5, 2020 at 3:06 PM UTC
Pfennig Postcard, Wrong Address
by Michael R. Burch
(for the victims and survivors of the Holocaust)
We saw their pictures:
tortured out of our imaginations
like golems.
We could not believe
in their frail extremities
or their gaunt faces,
pallid as our disbelief.
They are not
with us now ...
We have:
huddled them
into the backroomsofconscience,
consigned them
to the ovensofsilence,
buried them in the mass graves
of circumstancesbeyondourcontrol.
We have
so little left
of them
now
to remind us ...
It was my honor to work with survivors of the Holocaust as we translated their poems and prose accounts into English as a way of preserving them and making them available to larger audiences. Unfortunately, time waits for no one and the Holocaust survivors I worked with are no longer with us. But their words and testimonies remain, if we will only take the time to read and consider them. Keywords/Tags: Holocaust, victims, survivors, mass graves, pictures, images, tortured, frail, gaunt, skeletal, emaciated, thin, malnourished, golemic, horror, terror, inhumanity, madness, racism, antisemitism, slave labor, slavery, death camps, concentration camps, gas chambers, ethnic cleansing, genocide, memory, remembrance, memorial, tribute
Feb 29, 2020
Feb 29, 2020 at 4:16 AM UTC
I have been through hell, beyond what anyone will truly understand.
There’s emotional damage that’s been done as consequence for having such an open and trusting heart.
I’ve fallen too fast, I’ve loved too easily, and I’ve trusted too many.
I am damaged and broken in ways that will never be mended.
I will never be who others want me to be because that is all that I’ve ever wanted to be.
My friends need me to be their crutch, my parents need me to be their perfectly well-rounded daughter, and the man I’m falling for,
well...
I just want to give him the best of me.
How does one pick and choose who to be for the ones they love, when regardless, the love almost always remains unreciprocated?
I would love to be their perfect daughter, but that’s not who I am.
I would love to be the perfect friend who picks up every call, but for reasons that I cannot control, that cannot be me.
I would love to be cared for, protected, and eventually loved unconditionally by the man who’s almost too perfect to be real.
But, I can't have the one person that makes me truly happy because everything else remains in my way.
I've been damaged,
broken,
bruised,
and used.
All I want is happiness, yet she shall remain a stranger to me until I find my escape from the overwhelming demands of everyone that I care for.
Feb 24, 2020
Feb 24, 2020 at 8:26 PM UTC
What a match, oh what a pair,
my broken china doll and I.
Abandoned in dark corners, where no-one ever sees.
Cracks and broken pieces lay scattered on the floor
of a once cherished child and a once treasured toy.
Now you may never see it, but we weep, both her and I
for discarded things have feelings
if not always naked to the eye.
My broken china doll and me
don't understand what we have done.
For objects once dressed up in pretty things
became fragmented, tortured lumps.
It's not always understood,
why we throw away all broken things,
because sometimes they're most beautiful
if we only ever were to look within.
Now we may be broken and discarded,
never to be repaired again
but with a little helping hand, we could learn to grow.
For through our cracks the sunlight could seep,
making us feel whole again.
But my broken china doll and I
maybe too far gone to ever be saved.
Jan 30, 2020
Jan 30, 2020 at 5:40 PM UTC
"Come to me,
my little one;
We're going to have,
alot of fun.
~
I'll make this playtime,
a pleasure for you;
So come on in,
take off your shoes."
~
Just what they meant,
I did not know;
As I entered my bedroom,
of pink and gold.
~
My little hands,
began to sweat;
Down my back,
shivers were sent.
~
They laid me on,
my Minny Mouse sheets;
I was not happy,
I was not pleased.
~
They tortured me,
that's how it felt;
And then they told me,
not to tell.
~
They walked away,
bearing a smile;
They left behind,
a tortured child.
Apr 29, 2019
Apr 29, 2019 at 5:12 PM UTC
Who’s soul is left for your to break
The 2 you crushed for your own sake
Away from you, away from me.
peace and space they are free
You tore him down piece by piece
You ripped to shreds all his needs
Meek and small but bold and alive
Now she is gone, do you cry ?
I bet you do when others see
Looking for any ounce of pity
Searching out your next attack
Who’s left the break in your sack
It won’t be me, I’ve learned to soon
You dead to me, soulless lagoon
When you finally depart this place
You existence will dissipate
We won’t worry about seeing you again
Without a soul you will never begin
Nov 3, 2018
Nov 3, 2018 at 12:00 PM UTC
She's like a glass
with a broken body,
chipped heart by every events
she had gone through.
Cracked, damaged and flawed.
Got hurt trying to fix things,
and bleed trying hold
herself together.
One more gentle touch
to make sure how she was doing?
She'll be shattered
into pieces without knowing.
Oct 26, 2018
Oct 26, 2018 at 10:54 PM UTC
Stranger's hands wrapped around my neck,
ropes tightly tied around my hands & feet,
They pointed a gun to my head,
and their words pointed a knife to my heart.
As they **** me slowly infront of you,
my screams filled your ears,
the image of my tortured body
was stuck inside your head.
Your body was frozen in place
nothing to do while I was suffering
right infront of you.
- yet you mourned for my death
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 1:38 AM UTC
Within every heart, there is a chain hooked up to a wall of flesh, blood and stone.
Scars open and cut too deeply, we rather thirst and drink our own blood then eat the molded food that the guards of fire and destruction serve us.
We try so hard to escape this hell inside our minds. But it almost seems impossible and mindless.
Every day, we live in a living nightmare. We would rather die than live another second in this kingdom of depression and wrath.
There is only one law, and the law is the image of death is nothing but a dream.
We can try our hardest to desire the blood spill and the gushing out of beaten bones and origins to spill out of our weak and limp bodies, but all we'll do is spawn back into this waste land
Tears stream down the faces of many innocent broken people; they feast on each other like beast of a large skeleton bump sight,
We're tortured until our back bone is visible, and our voices are empty and numb.
Our fingers lay in pieces of flesh on the cold mossy stone floor from making meals for these zombies like monsters.
The meals are the hearts and frightened minds of our fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters; we weep for them and wish for no comfort.
**I am the only prisoner in this Endless Fire Hell that has a window in their dang room. I can see a brighter, safer, more loving place just millions of miles away.
I often reach my hand out the window, to at least feel tiny drops of refreshing rain on my black burning skin.
I cry aloud, calling for some kind of help, but I know that calling and crying won't get me anywhere.
The rain drops are the only loving thing I have, for they heal my scar and fix my wounds, the only hopeful thing that my blurry eyes and beaten hands have ever seen and felt.
Under neither this dungeon in the sky, is a vast and cool ocean that I long to swim in the feeling of freedom and satisfaction.
Within every moment as I swim in the burning and melting lava pool, oh how the lava is stained by the blood and eyes of prisoners that have slowly melted away.
Their skin slowly ripping off their skull as they scream in a high and painful voice… Oh how I long to feel the rain. Oh how I long for it.
On one faithful day, there was a great down pour, and the rain drops starts to sing in harmony with serenity and joy, which caused the stones of bitterness that surround my window to give way and crumble and fall into the sea.
I smiled bright for the first time in 16 years. I took the chance and jumped, but then quickly grabbed hold of a left over stone, my arm stretched in pain.
How silly of me to just jump and not knowing if I’ll die and spawn back here or if the guards will see me in the ocean and band the rain from this Nether.
My Arm soon gave up its last strength as my ****** hand finally let the stone go. I could feel the rain, filling and soaking my entire body,
I crashed into the ocean, my eyes closed, and my mouth allowing the water of purity to drown me, my arms and leg motionless as I began to sink.
I would rather die in something I love, than live in something I hate...
Jun 19, 2018
Jun 19, 2018 at 3:42 PM UTC
Succulent hate and misconceived trees of sorrow,
living under the devils tombstone of love,
rattling my subsequent bones of decay,
on my knees begging to be saved,
witnessing cains ******
whipping gods eyes,
throw the feedbag on the horses face,
gorging the lies,
galaxies spark strange atomic waste,
suffocating the creator,
starving the witch,
branding the third eye,
searing flesh of goblins
distorted cries,
screams of freedom,
screeching violins play in Lucifers den,
ancient prognosticated scriptures of evil tribes,
frivolous hope crushed again by temptation,
reaching for the forbidden fruit,
love always just out of my grasp,
laughing and mocking my desperate tries,
my crippled desire burns to death right in front of my eyes,
helpless crushing weight from the chains of despair,
cage my raging savage endearments,
destroy me, my tortured love
Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 8:21 PM UTC