#wronged
I'm a man of a thousand hardships
Experiencing pain is nothing new
Often due to the hands of others
All the **** they've put me through
But I've made good some goals despite it
Dodged the paths of unchanging misery
Even now things are looking brighter
And yet I still feel something obstructing
It was mostly you before
But now, maybe it's me
And my recent refusal
To take responsibility
Maybe it's just me
Causing my own agony
Problems won't solve themselves
I need to get up
I could spend a thousand hours judging you
And the pointless pain you put me through
But I have legs that can still move
And I can walk out of I'm willing to choose
So maybe it's mainly me
I haven't taken responsibility
Unwittingly added to my agony
And shaped my own dark destiny
So if it's now just on me
If I can admit to my faults
And say to my old ways, "No".
Some of my problems may just go
Apr 28, 2020
Apr 28, 2020 at 10:16 PM UTC
When I was a youth
I expected the world to be good to me,
I expected people to treat me fairly, kindly and justly,
and I was disappointed, hurt and angry
when I was treated unfairly, unkindly and unjustly.
Now that I am wiser
I realise
that people are broken and suffering
and struggling to cope with life,
and they care more about their own survival and pleasure
than they care about being kind, fair and just to me,
so I no longer expect the world to be good to me
and I no longer feel disappointed, hurt and angry;
Now I feel compassion for people
And I take responsibility
to treat people fairly, kindly and justly,
and I make my best attempt
to lead people to treat me fairly, kindly and justly.
Jul 30, 2019
Jul 30, 2019 at 6:55 AM UTC
When he left, it was never new to you. There was no such thing such as shredding of tears. There was no kaleidoscope of memories. There was no hopes urging you to pull him back. There was no poem written in your notebooks. There was no entry in your diary. There was no wishful thinking while waiting for the wishing stars. There was no such thing like trying to talk to him and discuss what and where did you go wrong, because you knew from the very beginning, everything was wrong.
And then you dated him. You talked about your recent scores in your quizzes while eating ice cream with him. You celebrated your 19th birthday with him, and it was magical, the nicest feeling you never felt for so long. You had long conversations at night with him that you even dared to each other who sleeps first must treat the other. You have shared about the little things that made your day happy. You both have prayed for true love you thought you both once have. You found yourself motivating him through rousing words and so he does the same way to you.You say every single good night every dozing off moments at 2 or 3 am. And while the rest of your family was in dreams, you were there beneath your blankets giggling at his corny jokes while yawning. Your smiles to each other was in utmost real when you bumped each other on the busy hallways at school. When everyone stares at you both because of your weird chemistry, you could not give a **** care at all. You realize you don't want the whole world, just him in it.
And when he left, right after your 19th birthday, it was never new to you. There was no such thing such as shredding of tears. There was no kaleidoscope of memories. There was no hopes urging you to pull him back. There was no poem written in your notebooks. There was no entry in your diary. There was no wishful thinking while waiting for the wishing stars. There was no such thing like trying to talk to him and discuss what and where did you go wrong, because you knew from the very beginning, everything was wrong.
With no throe in your heart, you accepted everything--the way you used to.
Jul 12, 2019
Jul 12, 2019 at 7:21 PM UTC
Let me take a page out of the book that gave you every look you passed me when I went about my life the way that I was taught
If you had only gone as far as lit my cigarette and smiled I would have given up the world for you and your trials
When you find your rhythm let me know, but I feel that you were never searching for truths not in your bestseller book
I’m sitting here still waiting for a turn to speak, but you’ve stuffed your ears with amnesia of history; it makes you free
I’m here looking at the sky; it’s my way to feel free for a bit of time, and it doesn’t hurt anyone, unlike yours
We were never in line, and it’s all fine, until you cup my mouth with all the force you gained from never having to think twice
Now let me take a lie out of your book and make it choke on all the tears that could have drowned your pages and made you realize
Shy and soft-spoken though I might be, there are ways to talk without speaking a single word and it’s worth a thousand photographs
Jun 23, 2019
Jun 23, 2019 at 4:44 PM UTC
Filling up the ashtray,
Mascara running down my face,
Already on my third glass,
Can't believe you'd do that.
To me.
May 24, 2019
May 24, 2019 at 12:39 PM UTC
To the "friend" with the ratty red hair.
How dare you say that I was the one who was unfair?
Did I not provide shelter for you to lay your head at night?
Why are you always wanting to start a fight?
You are the one who disrespected me.
All I asked was for you to pay a small fee.
I don't know why I have chosen to rhyme.
This will probably be the very last time.
I am confident enough to say our season of friendship has probably come to an end.
I thought you were actually my very best friend.
I WAS WRONG.
Jun 29, 2018
Jun 29, 2018 at 12:00 AM UTC
we are past apologies
we are past 'new starts'
with flesh baring scars
and a bloodied heart
there's something i have to say
i wronged you
you stuck by me
never once lifted
your power above me.
i was showered with
bliss- material, or not.
your tshirts, your heart
it was all mine.
i wronged you
you stuck by me
stood up for me
when the world
cracked down its whip
you lifted me up from
the ground that bore
nothing but pain for me.
i wronged you
you stuck by me
when i became the devil
i had been running from
all my life.
i feared my reflection
in the mirror but you
kissed my lips everyday.
i wronged you
you stuck by me
i did not stick by you
for you, it was about us.
for me, it was about me.
i've been stuck in myself
all along.
untangling these memories
and wishing i could make amends
going back to that summer
for which i'd always pray never to end.
we are past apologies
we are past 'new starts'
with flesh baring scars
and a bloodied heart
there's something i have to say:
i wronged you.
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 12:55 PM UTC
so
sorry
she cut herself with an ***** bottle
her birth date
on
her
thigh
slipped
on
through
her ******
pools
drags her hand
down my chest
smell
of
*****
on
her
breath
baby
you
no
I
love you best
we wiped her last kiss
as she finished
cutting
her
flesh
we loved her through
her foggy morning
***** mess
she
fell from that star
think she knows who's watching her fall
we are
?
...
..
.
Mar 3, 2018
Mar 3, 2018 at 7:27 PM UTC
I had a teacher once-
Actually, I had him for four years straight-
Who wasn’t quite like the others.
I hated testing with him.
He insisted it had to be individual,
So he could really know everything he had to know about us.
It’s only a few times every couple months
But still, it’s a nightmare no one is ready to endure
He’d take you into a teeny, tiny room
Lock the door. Lock the windows.
Pull all the shades down.
It’s very important you be alone, in a cocoon of privacy.
And you have to make music for him;
You never know what he’ll ask for
But once he asks you always have to do it,
Exactly how he likes it.
Even if how he likes it really isn’t right.
He calls you “darling”, “honey”, “dear”
But you know he doesn’t love you like he pretends to
Because it gives you chills, and not in a good way,
When he strokes your back or touches your shoulder or arm
He always has to be making eye contact with your chest
But that isn’t why none of the boys ever have to test.
All the girls get it though, have to wait in line for it
He stretches the process out so it takes weeks to burn through all the girls
I think he likes that none of them have a way of escaping;
I didn’t escape until right before I reached high school.
But I still call myself one of the luckier ones
Because most of his girls still haven’t escaped testing.
The tests will be extra long today. “We’re halfway to goodbye”, he’ll say.
“A lot to do today,” he’ll tell them. “You can’t escape this, line on up.”
He controls what you wear and how you stand,
He guides your arms, so they only go where he wants them to.
That tiny room is a prison, and I’m so lucky I escaped.
But the story will not end as long as I’m alive.
It was a few months after I set myself free.
I was walking down the street, feeling much happier than my 14 years.
And it felt like the world was pretty and fine.
Until I walked past a group of boys who thought I was pretty and fine.
They swooped in, catcalls aplenty;
I ignored them. Outrage.
They grabbed me.
And by time I was alone again, boys nowhere to be seen,
It felt like nothing was fine,
And everyone was a predator
And it forced me to dwell on the facts
That I don’t feel brave or strong anymore and…
That I don’t know where the old me ran off to and…
And…
That I’m not fine anymore.
Jan 25, 2018
Jan 25, 2018 at 11:55 AM UTC
Who are these people?
I baked them bread. I made them welcome
And they left **** and ***** on my lovely carpet.
They smiled as they stole my Gramma’s silver teapot
They pulled down the curtain in my dressing room
And mopped the bathroom floor with it
They each got a Jeep in ’59, parlayed it
To a better place to be and live
And perfect superior attitudes that
delegate those with rounded eyes
To the lonely space beneath contempt.
Who are these people?
I learned their songs and sang along
But they stole my record player
And sold it for a dollar ten
And gave me only half the money
Saying that was all they got.
They rob their kids of childhood games
To run the shop and study hard
To be the best at everything
And social mores and etiquette
Are something for the native born.
Who are these people?
I helped them when I saw a need
And never got a thank you
I smiled when they pushed me aside
To reach the goodie table first
And take the biggest piece.
They piously bow heads to pray
On entering a holy place
(That serves as Country Club)
To listen to the words of God
And leave to serve the devil.
Who are these people?
They are the winners in an evil game
A hive that can’t be overcome
I watch myself go down in flame
And wait for justice to be won.
ljm
Dec 17, 2017
Dec 17, 2017 at 1:21 PM UTC
To her friends, she is the angel created to save
To her lovers, she is the demon built to ****
But only a piercing true man enough to be brave
Can see she is an angel made by the devil
Jul 24, 2017
Jul 24, 2017 at 9:11 AM UTC
One day,
There was a man
Dancing gracefully
Beneath an azure sky
He was an angel,
To every living being
That paint his body
With a red color
He was a joy
Living in a man,
No other jester bested
The way he laughs
Beneath it all,
Is a wandering soul
In a world full of foul
(A wandering body)
(A wandering shell)
Beneath the mask,
A mask where his eyes
Tell what the hidden color
They have painted,
Is a burst of erratic pain,
A holocaust,
A disastrous despair,
Misery, sorrow, anger, suffering,
Any devil has wrought upon him.
And... the mask fell...
He is a shell...
Jun 22, 2017
Jun 22, 2017 at 7:46 AM UTC
You were tomorrow's promise
cause knowing you'd be in my future
helped me get through today
But you left
Then tip toed back
only for a second
So now, I don't know if
you'll be there when the sun comes up
Or if someone else will be waiting to tangle in my sheets
I heard you wrapped yourself in her the way you once did with me
Is that what you call a goodbye?
Aug 17, 2016
Aug 17, 2016 at 10:35 PM UTC
Had he been proud of you
all these summers, all these years
had he walked you home holding your hand for everyone to see? Had he been taking you to the beach, proud to hold the corners of your waist? Had he worked hard for this girl you gave him for him to deserve her everything?
So does he really love you more than the blinds closed in his windows,
more than the sheets to cover you under, more than the lust, the kisses, the passion of cravings, does he really show the love as he say. As he says "I love you". Had he really dedicated all the sweetness to calling you Sweetie? Or he's a sugar coated guy with plastic gloves and masks in advertisement of a sweet temptation to a diabetic?
(j.t)
Aug 15, 2016
Aug 15, 2016 at 7:24 PM UTC
and we were wronged by the whole world,
but I knew I was right for him
like he was right for me.
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 9:44 PM UTC
Hidden star against the dark backdrop of night.
Not seen...
Not heard...
Struggling to assert existence with waning light.
Stifled are the stories dying to be told.
Eclipsed are the emotions
within collapses and folds.
Cloaked is the voice
that screams in silent anguish.
Disenchanted is the will
that once spoke of flourish.
I see you black star...
Know that...
You're nearer than far.
Dig deep...
Past the charred, crumbling skin.
Dig deep...
Into the beating heart within.
Know that...
You're better than any of them.
Any of us.
Time will only reveal,
what the sky sought to despicably conceal.
Your true calling.
Not as the quiet sentinel
that no one sees...
but a cosmic gem.
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 12:41 AM UTC
While I'm so worried about who is being cruel to me and why,
I forget to look in the faces of those I've wronged.
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 2:44 AM UTC