#unkind
Maybe I'm the problem.
I'm not patient enough,
I'm not kind enough.
Do I act the way that I feel?
Maybe I haven't been.
I pretend to be so educated,
I tell myself I can be so nice.
But am I?
Maybe I'm just a hypocrite.
I might not be worth it.
I don't feel strong.
I don't feel, safe.
It's my fault...
I let myself become this way.
May 10
May 10, 2026 at 2:47 PM UTC
*TRIGGER WARNING*
Sometimes I'm not very kind to myself
I don't drink enough water
Or I drink too much coffee
I go to work on next to no sleep because I have "no good reason" to take the day off.
I bite the insides of my cheeks
The outside of my lips
Anything with skin to attack
I make it my prey.
My fingers aren't safe either,
I pick at hangnails and cracked skin until it bleeds
And tell myself it's so that I will look neat–nothing out of place.
Sometimes I am not very kind to myself
I take showers way too hot
And stare at the redness of my skin afterwards
Like it's the blush of a lover
It's a new way to feel
Without having to feel okay
I don't go to the doctor
Even though I should
At least twice a year, they say.
I haven't been in much longer than that.
I don't pay attention
To what nutrition I need
My body is screaming
And I just let it shout
Because I'm sure I'll be fine
And if I'm not, I'm okay with that, too.
Sometimes I'm not very kind to myself
I clip away dry skin instead of finding ways to moisturize it.
It's simpler, I tell myself.
And I cut my nails way too short
Until they hurt
Or bleed
It's a habit now
Because it saves me from doing it again so soon
Sometimes I'm not very kind to myself
I neglect reading my Bible
And read web comics instead–sad ones
Because feeling okay doesn't feel quite right
And I don't take credit for my work.
I say that it's to keep me humble, but really
I don't think I deserve the praise.
Sometimes I'm not very kind to myself
I pour hydrogen peroxide
On wounds that are already healing
I tell myself it's to stave off infection
But really
It just makes the scab easier to scrape away.
Sometimes I'm not very kind to myself.
I rush
I don't go slowly
I make myself be productive
And name every second of my day
Because if I don't, I'm lazy.
I make myself stop crying
Because I'm being silly
And it's not worth crying over.
Sometimes I'm not very kind to myself
I force myself to go places
Or do things
Or allow others to do things
That I hate
Or that scare me
Or exhaust me
Because I wouldn't want to be rude.
Sometimes I'm not very kind to myself
I tell myself that I'm ugly
And let myself keep thinking so
Because if I were beautiful,
Someone would fall in love with me
And maybe I wouldn't be alone
But I'm not, so they don't, so I am.
Sometimes I'm not very kind to myself
I don't ask for help
Or for clarification
About my trauma
Or at work
Because with both, I should be able to handle it myself
I'm an adult, after all.
Sometimes I'm not very kind to myself
I find little ways
To plot my own demise
Convincing even myself
That to die slowly
Is better than not dying at all.
Sometimes I'm not very kind to myself
I pinch my skin
When I have intrusive thoughts
And find ways to cut myself with lies
Instead of drawing blood
Because that would be "dramatic."
I'm not alive because I'm not svicidal.
I'm alive because I'm a coward
Or so I tell myself
And so I find little ways to **** myself slowly
Because it's better than not dying at all
It's better than living
Sometimes I'm not very kind to myself
And sometimes I'm not sure I want to be.
Nov 15, 2025
Nov 15, 2025 at 9:26 PM UTC
You always had that spark that would keep me warm.
But fire is dangerous, even if you don't play with it.
Mar 9, 2023
Mar 9, 2023 at 9:35 AM UTC
~
*Cold cold heart
Frozen plumage
Like a peacock
Her ladyship
In the campfire light
Skating about the pond
Of her own vanity*
~
Dec 17, 2021
Dec 17, 2021 at 12:57 PM UTC
the transitional day
august August practicing her Academy Award speech,
“Best Month of the Summer, 2020,” between you ‘n me,
there wasn’t much in the way of competition, nonetheless,
careful chosen backdrop, sound effects, mood music -
The Zombies playing “Time of the Season,” inter-inter,
mixing in cool weather, blue skies, intermittent cumulative
cumulus, pushed around by a whitecapping 16 MPH wind
the transitional effects, the leaves dropping fast, **** pointy
s.o.b., pointy acorns, under bare feet means a lot of cursing,
nobody likes change and kissing sweet summer goodbye for a
chilly tonguing neath a smirking smile, for the fates, having
a mischievous hot streak going, promising fall_ing fireworks,
(insert hacking, can’t breathe noises, gunshots and last rites)
try to wrap my arms around the summering highlights, never,
to let go, but you can’t successful hold onto, grasp aholt of
sunlight, traveling clouds, tanning oil, when the breeze is already
autumn weight tweed sturdy strong, and your new bathing suit
(so flattering, so long!) got no unsightly pockets (uncool) and
they got motion, and you have no traction and they just ‘adieu’ you
transition from chilled to trepidated, worries change seasonal colors,
green trees gone, green money worries replacements, and brown is
generally an ugly color, what life leaves behind, brown things,when
things die. Even bay waters have got the fall blues, no more robust
blue eyed girls to decorate white beaches, shades of grays tryout to
be the signature of coloration of symbolic, leave-less, denuded trees
frankly, I’m in a lousy mood and wait and weight mix, a new coffee flavor from Dunkin’ Depressed, gonna be a big seller if there’s any left, don’t wonder why, ain’t gonna be much around, since I’m gonna drown this magnifique summer body in a tub of coffee that came all the way from June and July, it turned bitter soured, ain’t gonna think twice ‘bout it, heck, after this, may not even think of ‘bout it at all, ain’t nothing to, for, or say...’cept
<> <>
“When a man loves a season
Spend his very last dime
Trying to hold on to what he needs
He'd give up all his comforts
And sleep out in the rain
If Mother Nature said that's the way
It ought to be.”
apologies to the songwriters of
“When a Man Loves a Woman”
Aug 30, 2020
Aug 30, 2020 at 11:35 AM UTC
a truism, an overused, abused entrée to the first poem of the day,
they always are night-born, from a slow passage of dark to a light-triggering recording event, a 6 hr. poem period, gestation, incantation
and a sort of relief, temporary
*many the miles voyeured, a mentaller feasting sated,
simple rhymes to covet, rephrasing the complexities of
our other lives, where our sub-selfs exclaim, out loud!
this is me unchained, this is me chained, this is...someone*
*besotted by the rottenness of honesty, once air-exposed,
eyes fixed, no away-turntable, all that well hidden spoilage
in dreams reverent, forsaken, my ashamed-ness, is willing
taken to the scaffold, and by daylight first, perceived, conceived*
*we may examine the half of me, nay, the all of me, open-face
secrets secreted in my nighttime travelogue, of crimes, revelations,
insects, drownings, strawberry moons, all the fraying edges of a
linen covering, my cadaver pouch of well used words*
inscribed thus:
”human born from a sac, and to earth returned, in sackcloth
Jun 4, 2020
Jun 4, 2020 at 9:05 AM UTC
an ancient lyric, come to haunt,
no longer a shield, now thinner,
of gossamer consistency,
a tissue-thin papyrus,
“my poetry to protect me”
the poem words always were
a clarinet reed, capable of singing,
a highest pitch voice for turning
blades of clean steel clean away,
now blunting paper bunting, penetrated.
re-formed my shield, re-purposed,
into a stabbing instrument offensive,
my poetry pricking tearings in my worn
thin fabric tapestry, woven from linen
excuses of why I can’t, why couldn’t I.
this is life. moats becoming drowning
pools, castle walls reversed to entrapments,
wrecking machines, boulders hurling,
medieval defenseless against modern rhymes
giving away to free verse horde onslaught.
too late to apologize to myself, alas, my words,
my protectorate, island redoubt, now ruined
by doubts treachery breech birthed from within,
these verses hollow point bullets engineered,
Caesar’s words clarified, you, et tu, are Brutus
too, two, for the price of one, betrayer and betrayed.
Jun 21, 2020
Jun 21, 2020 at 5:44 PM UTC
Every day, you feel like you're dying inside
trying to ignore the pain gifted by a world that can be so unkind. You look in the mirror and try to like what you see.
But the ones who broke your heart
won't let you see how beautiful you are.
If you feel alone and scared to trust the ones that love you
because you feel like they won't understand,
it's easy to push love away
when you feel like you're the only one who knows your heart
and you're the only one who can.
But please, don't give up on love.
Don't give up on your heart.
Forget about the ones who couldn't see your beautiful soul right from the start.
Don't give up on your dreams
and someday you'll find
this crazy life can be so much better than it seems.
So don't give up on love.
Mar 24, 2019
Mar 24, 2019 at 9:49 AM UTC
Beautiful downtown Atlanta
Sunny, blue, cloudless sky
Tall, wide, massive buildings
Window glass glistening in the sun
Beautiful, well-dressed people
Gainfully employed people
Taking care of business people
Running essential errands
Contributing to the community
Pursuing positive, purposeful lives.
I take in the sights, sounds, smells
Sounds of people walking, talking
Engines revving and car horns
Smells of restaurants and fast food vendors
Engine exhaust and overheated brakes
The feel of the sidewalk
Under my expensive dress shoes
The heat of the sun on my face and neck
The exciting hustle and bustle
Of a thriving metropolis.
A faint “Please, sir. . .” reaches my ears
And a homeless man appears
***** disheveled, hirsute
“Please, sir. Could you. . .”
His weak speech trails off
As I divert my eyes, quicken my pace
Ignoring his petty pleas
As he disappears in my wake
Bothersome soul, good riddance
Why doesn’t the city do something?
Days later the encounter haunts me
I was so proud of the way I handled myself
How easy it was to dismiss a soul in need
Months later the encounter haunts me
Instead of the clever human
I had become cruel, inhuman
Unfeeling, unkind, uncaring
Years later the encounter still haunts me
Never will it ever happen again
Never. . . ever.
Oct 28, 2019
Oct 28, 2019 at 9:46 PM UTC
how can some people not see,
how can they not feel,
how terrible unkind and unjust
are they being.
doesn't their soul shiver?
does sound sleep come to them at night?
doesn't their heart, skip a beat?
does the unheard replies haunt them?
i wonder
how?
they mange to breathe after.
Aug 26, 2019
Aug 26, 2019 at 7:02 AM UTC
I said I'd write a poem for you,
Once I got to know you,
And now, I think that I do.
It took some time for your colours to shine,
But now I'm done, so here,
Let me show you.
You are light as the day,
With no hint of dark,
It's all bunnies, princesses and pink.
You bore me to tears,
Like a bar with no beers,
And you certainly can't handle your drink.
You're the arms-length kind,
A mediocre mind,
Fakeness and lies are your craft.
You flutter your eyes,
Like a sneaky tweety-pie,
And all the boys start acting daft.
It can't all be bad,
That would be sad,
Of course, there are nice things to say.
I just don't know what they are,
Not those things in your bra,
I've seen bigger **** in ballets.
You have a nice ****
a nine, if I'm asked,
But that means that I'd have to say...
If I'm being true,
The best thing about you
Is the sight of you walking away.
Aug 23, 2019
Aug 23, 2019 at 7:05 AM UTC
i wonder,
how can it be that a thing so inhuman
be responsible for us acting like one.
the soft smiles, the warm welcomes
don't they mean anything?
does my personality has any chance,
when you weighing cheque books?
Aug 19, 2019
Aug 19, 2019 at 10:38 AM UTC
Love does not look like the time when he let the words die in my throat, because he believed he was right.
Nor does it look like when he screamed at me hoarse,
because my heart was heavy, and my mind was racing all night.
Love is not when he broke a promise he made to someone else to kiss me.
Love is not when I was dying, and the ghost of someone else’s memory haunted him more.
Love is not, as my therapist says, setting myself on fire to keep them warm
On days under the sun, as well as the coldest, and most heartless of the storms.
Jul 1, 2019
Jul 1, 2019 at 10:31 PM UTC
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust) – 28
BismillahIr RahmanIr Raheem
In cruel atmosphere, I bloomed with pristine purity,
With gentle and soft, I was sincere to the social beings,
But beings use Me for their own purpose,
And trash me as litter once it’s been adequately fulfilled,
As my Beloved (earth) given life and when I rest peacefully,
She Grasped me and knowingly allow to successful revival,
Once again to bloom in this cruel unkind world!
Allah Khair….. Khairul Rabul Alameen Yah Arrahmanur Yah Raheem
Ummah Thurab – Badshah Khan.
©UT-BK 2019
Feb 9, 2019
Feb 9, 2019 at 3:24 AM UTC
I never fully understood the meaning of the word “mourn” until this year -
To truly feel the loss of another concentrated in its purest form.
I never believed when others would say
“I miss you more, in each and every day” or
“There’s not an hour goes by, without a thought of you on my mind”
As if Loss is an unforgotten constant in the trails of the trivial,
We are only human after all.
But I was naive, through and through.
Loss never leaves your side once you meet
Loss is a friend for life.
The kind that shows their face in the most unpredictable moments,
Who never fades away or falls out,
Becoming more aquatinted as we go through life.
Loss is selfish, wanting our undivided attention,
Expecting us to indulge in its deep dark thoughts with strong pretension.
Loss is harsh, not hiding nor sugarcoating any enemy attack,
Facing us with the reality of control and just how much we lack.
Loss is bitter, Loss is unkind
Loss is a thief, stealing our piece of mind.
Loss is jealous, Loss is sly.
Is it absent of Love,
Or has Love left it’s side?
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 6:59 PM UTC
You leave pavements ******
And graves dug but without bodies
Learning tricks of manipulation
You know how to wrap us around
The small of your finger
With bloodshot eyes and a mouth
Full of sweetened poison
You kiss girls and leave them hungry
Foolishly hoping that your touch
Just might heal them
You leave pavements cracked
So we are all left skipping
Hoping to save your back
Isn't love unkindly blind?
Nov 26, 2018
Nov 26, 2018 at 4:56 PM UTC
Walk all over me I’m use to the abuse!
Step on me and dust your feet from the nasty concrete I’m use to the abuse... no matter what you say you spit and dump on me everyday. You say you love me in what kind of way I’m use to the abuse and the words you say! I was taking for granted you thought I will always be, one day you came home I wasn’t there for your feet. You was lost without your doormat it was no longer there a house is not a home with just you living here.
Nov 3, 2018
Nov 3, 2018 at 10:28 AM UTC
Dreams do not sometimes come to help you recover.
So it is your health and wealth that sometimes suffer.
Anything I could do to help.
If I see a girl for who she is my heart will melt.
See what they do is bring the cute.
Turning their backs on you they hide in the same suit.
Then the pretty come when you are gone.
Anything to make an appeal for what I have to succumb.
What is new?
What is unique?
I am under people’s review.
Just as the girating elliptical orbiting oblique.
I am the one who suffers.
As the rain pours down in buckets.
This is just the another of life’s tragedies.
But, I am not vain personally.
This is a day to day grind.
In this, I want my eyes in your soul I find.
Pour more salt in my wounds to help beautiful and unkind.
This is why mankind suffers if you are the one I reach and find.
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 3:32 PM UTC
Now there goes another friend,
Who decided she was better off on another land,
She flew without saying goodbye,
Because if she said she’d miss me
it’ll be a lie,
It was heartbreaking to see,
When someone you love start to leave,
But there is nothing i can do,
When our something isn’t meant to be,
I watch with sullen eyes,
And i choke my tears behind,
Because i don’t understand,
Just how some people can be so unkind,
But that’s just the way the world works,
And these unkind things
will continue to lurk,
Not giving a **** about who then,
would get really, truly hurt.
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 1:22 PM UTC
elephants stomping on my head
laugh as they draw blood
fragmented ideals scatter in the wind
as trampled dreams mix with dust
cemented in 'supposed to'
hiding behind other people's 'shoulds'
jackhammer disappointment
crushes bones with broken boundaries
play me a song
to make it look pretty
and I'll pretend to dance
with you in foggy yesterday's
karaoke soundtracks
to a stranger's tears
that leave the heart blind
tripping acid just to see in forgotten colors
breathing bacteria
from the soles of shoes
wiped on my forehead
as they said, 'hello'
a mosaic of skull puzzles
grouted in the remnants of the ****
left behind as everyone
just walks away
shadows smell clean in dark corners
where colors are left to die
in clouds of expectation
leaving truth buried in the ruble
...of who they thought I was
Feb 23, 2018
Feb 23, 2018 at 6:30 PM UTC
Under florescent light,
I realise,
It seems as though my friends were right,
You're quite unkind.
Oct 27, 2017
Oct 27, 2017 at 1:30 PM UTC
Soaking up self hatred,
Ignoring kindness,
No more self love to dip oneself in.
Allowing the positive to fade out,
As the negative sinks in.
Elegant love,
Misinterpreted into elegant pity.
Taking in ravishing hate,
Turning it into a new idea.
Dancing among despair,
No longer interested in the light,
That was always to bright.
Take in the negative,
Spit on the positive.
Oct 11, 2017
Oct 11, 2017 at 5:30 PM UTC
You would gently manipulate her.
You would secretly use her.
You would have a strategy for her every move, a plan for anything she'd do.
Her weakness became your endeavor.
You dehydrated her soul.
You made her suffer just so that you could strive.
You were slowly killing her.
***** you mankind, ***** you.
Sep 4, 2017
Sep 4, 2017 at 3:13 PM UTC