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"abrasively" poems
amidst the decaying, black soil, a daisy Blooms neither a figment of one's imagination, nor abrasively prominent, it sits quietly Hope defiant amongst the encumbering pain a lone promise unyieldingly rooted
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Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 3:06 PM UTC
hope
unarmored meat bones loves tones abrasively chanting hates moan leave him alone heavy sleep headache crave me I will never hold you again. karma is greener, much meaner. volume displacement losing you was the punishment of my crime. never again will I love you, never again the things that I said. there's nothing you could want or need from, of, or because of me: not even the memory of our best days our first kiss or our last kiss there's nothing I miss, never again, will I love with a love so blindly. never again, a love built on such a crumbling foundation. never again will I run away from pain to love, love which stems from any other source save for love itself is not a love for me. love again? I will.
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Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 11:58 AM UTC
beast of bourbon
"Life is all about choices." But I don't recall choosing The struggles I've had to fight to remain moving and breathing, The rough path I have no choice but to keep walking, Or the situations of which I've dealt with Some I was born into I don't remember ever being given the option To choose Coming home from school, to a household that automatically changes your mood Forget living, let's call it existing It's all that's being done under this roof And it **** sure couldn't be compared to any thing resembling a choice It's rope and a guilted conscience That keep me bound to this place that raised me Fighting against the knots tied abrasively around my feet Only to be overwhelmed with remorse At even having thought about leaving And unknowingly, I strengthen their hold Life, once again, making choices on its own They never tell you it'll be easy So caught up in dramatizing the difficulty of the journey It's forgotten how easy it is to give up How easy it is to judge Constantly looked down upon for things out of my hands But the number of misdealt cards in the past doesn't control future bets It just strengthens the desire to win And that, Life Is my choice I've never wanted to roll over and die though I admit there're been mornings I rolled over and cried at the thought of ever getting up again But I did Low as rock bottom on the ocean floor but refusing to be swept away with the tide I stopped living in pointing blame on trivial irrelevant things And slowly broke the chip off my shoulder that was a mile wide Though sometimes I still feel it's phantom weight Taunting me about the things I cant change And I never had the choice I couldn't pick where I came from, how I was raised, who raised me, I can't control the missed opportunities my upbringing has denied me, or the battle scars my past gave me But finally living instead of existing? That is my choice.
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Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 12:50 AM UTC
Choices, Choices (Life's A *****
"Life is all about choices." But I don't recall choosing The struggles I've had to fight to remain moving and breathing, The rough path I have no choice but to keep walking, Or the situations of which I've dealt with Some I was born into I don't remember ever being given the option To choose Coming home from school, to a household that automatically changes your mood Forget living, let's call it existing It's all that's being done under this roof And it **** sure couldn't be compared to any thing resembling a choice It's rope and a guilted conscience That keep me bound to this place that raised me Fighting against the knots tied abrasively around my feet Only to be overwhelmed with remorse At even having thought about leaving And unknowingly, I strengthen their hold Life, once again, making choices on its own They never tell you it'll be easy So caught up in dramatizing the difficulty of the journey It's forgotten how easy it is to give up How easy it is to judge Constantly looked down upon for things out of my hands But the number of misdealt cards in the past doesn't control future bets It just strengthens the desire to win And that, Life Is my choice I've never wanted to roll over and die though I admit there're been mornings I rolled over and cried at the thought of ever getting up again But I did Low as rock bottom on the ocean floor but refusing to be swept away with the tide I stopped living in pointing blame on trivial irrelevant things And slowly broke the chip off my shoulder that was a mile wide Though sometimes I still feel it's phantom weight Taunting me about the things I cant change And I never had the choice I couldn't pick where I came from, how I was raised, who raised me, I can't control the missed opportunities my upbringing has denied me, or the battle scars my past gave me But finally living instead of existing? That is my choice.
Continue reading...
40
Do you ever feel as though the reality in which you live is just a fragment of an imagination from another life...? My feelings drenched in watered-down alcohol... Burning my scars and soothing my mind simultaneously... The muzzle kept firmly, abrasively over my entire body - Lending my limbs just a numbness sensation, Causing the feelings I have to be morphed into an alternate state... The things I want to be able to say... to do... Are nothing more than just dreams I see... A dream in which I guess I no longer should dream for me...
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Sep 13, 2012
Sep 13, 2012 at 9:31 PM UTC
Fragments
Weeds that grow, wind to and fro We cannot let them go, I can not let them go. Abrasively dismayed By the ones, with whom she played. Winding up a glaze, To cover eyes at which you gaze. Melting forests, tied with old Thoughts and feelings, poured the mold, Upon which hardships now behold. Carry on your storm, For it is why the sky was born.
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Oct 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015 at 10:07 PM UTC
Trembling Timber.
Thank you for removing yourself from my day to day Life. I can't say I would have made that choice, but I'm sure ******* glad I now don't have to; I'm sure ******* glad to have my headspace back. This isn't an attack; it's a sigh of relief on some levels. This isn't surrender; it's a work in progress on some levels. This isn't excommunication; it's a period of change on lots of levels. I'm sure you can understand that. It takes me Time to come to terms with the things I find within my Mind; it doesn't help that a lot of Entropy has been introduced; pardon me for taking my sweet-ass Time. I know I can express myself abrasively, but, you see, Life is abrasive. I find abrasive expression itself can be cathartic, when existence itself is abrasive. This isn't an attack, this isn't surrender, this isn't excommunication, this is a period of renewal and growth; moving onward moving forward moving upward moving inward all at once. I hope you can understand; *I, myself, tend to forget, believe it or not*.
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Sep 14, 2013
Sep 14, 2013 at 1:20 PM UTC
An abrasive "Thank you"
Sometimes I get an overwhelming urge to go out in public, but then I am abrasively reminded why it is that I prefer the limited seclusion I so enjoy: I can refine my skills, meditate, read, play games, stretch, or even just sleep. In any event, it's still far more enriching than dealing with some of the cesspools of Public: (A regrettably large percentile of) People are just ******* ******** inconsiderate, narcissistic, superficial, vacuous morons. Some take it to physically sickening levels of sheer gratuitous idiocy. As if a badge of honor; some are quite foolish, others are outright fools, and not in a good way. I'd call them Sheep, but that is much to derogatory to the sheep. Perhaps Swine, but those too are to well mannered to be called 'people', many could be said to have finer taste, as well.
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Apr 11, 2013
Apr 11, 2013 at 12:00 AM UTC
Public Space is an 'Acquired Taste'
I am abrasively myself forever and always I come off as an awkward, perverted, introverted lady I tend to overthink everything anyone ever says to me I am heavily affected by things other people aren’t I put deep meanings on things I shouldn’t I believe every word of my horoscope to give myself a little hope for the day I cling to my remaining friends with all of my strength because I am already lonely enough I am a hopeless romantic but pretend I’m not cause I gotta keep up my reputation I have a reputation for being hard to talk to but easy to get into I want someone to love me so sometimes I believe if they get into me they’ll love me then I know that is a stupid idea but I just can’t help thinking it because its called making love right I get angry very quickly if people don’t reciprocate my friendship at the same level I give it I tend to ride a tidal wave called depression that has its ups and downs I plead with my head every day that I don’t go under and drown I hate hurting someone’s feelings even if by accident I will never forgive myself I don’t care if you hurt my feelings at all I have my walls built up so don’t worry I have compassion flying out of my chest for even the most spoiled rotten people I will take a bullet for a stranger if given the chance because they deserve to live I don’t know if I deserve to live though sometimes I truly wonder I still miss the people whose friendships I have lost even if it was years ago I believe every human being is good despite their obliviousness and their selfishness I do my best to help my single mother even when she doesn’t see it I love my little sister like my own child and I take care of her like it I have passion for everything I do from my job to just being in school I grew up way too fast and I get angry because no one can understand how I think I guess its because I have no father and try to take care of my mother and myself I think I may be one of the only kids who do that I was not born into a wealthy family my mother is a grocer and my father was a jeweler I have more pride for my parents than kids whose parents are CEO’s and business people I believe I have learned more about being a good person than people who are handed it all I would rather die than do nothing with my life I could never live with myself if I didn’t put others before me And I wouldn’t want it any other way.
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Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 8:50 PM UTC
Things I Learned About Myself By 17
I am abrasively myself forever and always I come off as an awkward, perverted, introverted lady I tend to overthink everything anyone ever says to me I am heavily affected by things other people aren’t I put deep meanings on things I shouldn’t I believe every word of my horoscope to give myself a little hope for the day I cling to my remaining friends with all of my strength because I am already lonely enough I am a hopeless romantic but pretend I’m not cause I gotta keep up my reputation I have a reputation for being hard to talk to but easy to get into I want someone to love me so sometimes I believe if they get into me they’ll love me then I know that is a stupid idea but I just can’t help thinking it because its called making love right I get angry very quickly if people don’t reciprocate my friendship at the same level I give it I tend to ride a tidal wave called depression that has its ups and downs I plead with my head every day that I don’t go under and drown I hate hurting someone’s feelings even if by accident I will never forgive myself I don’t care if you hurt my feelings at all I have my walls built up so don’t worry I have compassion flying out of my chest for even the most spoiled rotten people I will take a bullet for a stranger if given the chance because they deserve to live I don’t know if I deserve to live though sometimes I truly wonder I still miss the people whose friendships I have lost even if it was years ago I believe every human being is good despite their obliviousness and their selfishness I do my best to help my single mother even when she doesn’t see it I love my little sister like my own child and I take care of her like it I have passion for everything I do from my job to just being in school I grew up way too fast and I get angry because no one can understand how I think I guess its because I have no father and try to take care of my mother and myself I think I may be one of the only kids who do that I was not born into a wealthy family my mother is a grocer and my father was a jeweler I have more pride for my parents than kids whose parents are CEO’s and business people I believe I have learned more about being a good person than people who are handed it all I would rather die than do nothing with my life I could never live with myself if I didn’t put others before me And I wouldn’t want it any other way.
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33
Someone once asked me how I knew I loved him, and it really took me back because I knew I loved him when I stopped doubting and questioning. I knew I loved him when I didn't have to ask for someone else's perspective to compare it to mine. Nowadays we become So Obsessed with wondering that we forget to let nature take its course. We want to feel love so badly that we ignore everything that reassures us. I knew that I loved him when he himself was more important than wondering. I knew I loved him when he made me feel it so abrasively and smoothly at the same time. Breezy Don't get me wrong, though. Falling in love can be exhausting confusing and terrifying. But when you are in sense with yourself you just know.
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Mar 27, 2017
Mar 27, 2017 at 1:47 PM UTC
aware
My pen is always free To find When most sublime My mind Is still so bound By rhyme Each word and sound Left undefined By rhyme I find Abrasively Will grind In teeth Distastefully Bequeath Each line That chimes Pervasively In ears And fears Begrime Invasively My head To dread Implacably This crime Of rhyme As if it were a wrinkle In the fabric Of all time
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Sep 20, 2016
Sep 20, 2016 at 3:02 AM UTC
A Wrinkle in Rhyme
It always starts with the looking of bouquets of dying flowers in the grocery store they're always by the entrance and they're always wrapped in cellophane Moody lilies, doe-eyed star daffodils, ******* lace-leaves My grandfather's name was Hyacinth It's symbolic somewhere, somehow My family's name is buried neck deep in floral epithets not that you would notice or care There's an attraction to be named after beautiful things From the side of my shoulder I hear count your hands, they might be missing fingers I look abrasively counting in rotund continuity one two three four five one two three four five when I look behind me the speaker blasts John Mayer and I go home feeling nauseous manic begonias, sultry sweet-tooth hydrangeas you pick a rose and it stabs your finger so you set it on fire and take a picture of it, you call it art and the leaves wither when I sit at my dinner table eating salmon I cannot stop thinking about mercury poisoning I lick the table salt off my hands I wait for cardiac arrest but while that happens there is that friend of a foe, that voice tickling the back of my ear with it's summer tongue telling me, beckoning that the tap water I'm drinking is laced with LSD by the government and that I'm going to have a bad trip that I won't be able to get out of. I'll be stuck in that endless loop like a record player that keeps getting scratched by the needle and won't play anything but static noise now. I go to bed biting my nails until they're raw and touching skin making sure that my hands are still my own Moonflowers bloom at night and marigolds remind me of the sun In the morning I dream of driving out to sea in a car that doesn't belong to me and wait for the coral to overtake my brain When I wake up I do 20 laps around my house instead
0
Jan 4, 2018
Jan 4, 2018 at 11:00 PM UTC
Mercurial
It always starts with the looking of bouquets of dying flowers in the grocery store they're always by the entrance and they're always wrapped in cellophane Moody lilies, doe-eyed star daffodils, ******* lace-leaves My grandfather's name was Hyacinth It's symbolic somewhere, somehow My family's name is buried neck deep in floral epithets not that you would notice or care There's an attraction to be named after beautiful things From the side of my shoulder I hear count your hands, they might be missing fingers I look abrasively counting in rotund continuity one two three four five one two three four five when I look behind me the speaker blasts John Mayer and I go home feeling nauseous manic begonias, sultry sweet-tooth hydrangeas you pick a rose and it stabs your finger so you set it on fire and take a picture of it, you call it art and the leaves wither when I sit at my dinner table eating salmon I cannot stop thinking about mercury poisoning I lick the table salt off my hands I wait for cardiac arrest but while that happens there is that friend of a foe, that voice tickling the back of my ear with it's summer tongue telling me, beckoning that the tap water I'm drinking is laced with LSD by the government and that I'm going to have a bad trip that I won't be able to get out of. I'll be stuck in that endless loop like a record player that keeps getting scratched by the needle and won't play anything but static noise now. I go to bed biting my nails until they're raw and touching skin making sure that my hands are still my own Moonflowers bloom at night and marigolds remind me of the sun In the morning I dream of driving out to sea in a car that doesn't belong to me and wait for the coral to overtake my brain When I wake up I do 20 laps around my house instead
Continue reading...
26
I am my own worst enemy I could be my own best friend but this extrinsic obnoxious extrovert just won't see the truth and yet he takes up for me the unworthy harrier We both think the other foolish but I the wiser! undying optimism fades as reality sinks in so I settle for the sake of safety in pessimism No one sees the real me the few who have explained just how abrasively I oxidize their good humor and so the kid lives on smiling and I behind wondering if my hidden prison has made me...
0
Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 11:25 PM UTC
Therapy 1
at least five natural phenomenon sit within every strand of your iris. the thrashing ocean or the roaring skies alone aren't enough to describe the passion within your gaze. the brims of absolute chaos brush against each other abrasively, and while the rest of the world gapes in awe of such a rare occurrence, you take no notice to it because it happens every tenth of a second within the blink of your kaleidoscope  eyes. just the simplest aspects of you are unfathomable to me, i could study your very existence for hours and still be in total and complete admiration. your exterior provides even the least curious individual an urge for inquiry. i may never fully decipher you, but that's the very joy in your presence. i never know what alcove of your beautiful soul i'll wander into next. n.h.
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Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 5:26 PM UTC
eyes
A sickness rises from my stomach Through my chest, into my throat, making a mess of me (i refuse to let it spill from my mouth) Sometimes it’s all i can feel It becomes a comfort, and one of many fears I am distressed that i may be obvious, pesky, and ignored But my heart fell from my sleeve long ago And my own feet tread over it. Silence burns in my throat and compresses my chest Words that refuse to be said haunt my thoughts The ringing in my ears is ever-present; Nothing is loud enough, and silence too often deafens me Harshness radiates from me, unwanted, but always lingering My existence is much too clumsy. My vanity vies for attention (and is abrasively rebuked by heart and mind) Heart and mind are always at war, united only against me Laughing used to help, But it’s not that funny anymore It hurts. I don’t like being sick (but i don’t try to get better).
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Jul 24, 2017
Jul 24, 2017 at 2:07 AM UTC
sick
I often blame myself for the iniquity of others. If they had abrasively grazed the fragile strings which hold me together then it is because I, and only I have given them the thought that wounds do heal in the end but scars are often invisible and I am still hurting.
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Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 2:36 PM UTC
Hurt
Change. The tide, turn and test of time The twists and turns we encounter. Sometimes change comes silently, slowly and unannounced. As in corrosion, decay, the quiet shift from one generation to the next. Sometimes change comes harshly, abrasively and all at once. And we must adapt quickly or die quickly. Whether it culminates slowly or crashes all at once. We must never fear it, but expect it. And accept it is apart of being alive.
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Sep 27, 2022
Sep 27, 2022 at 11:47 PM UTC
Change
I yearn to love f l u i d l y, yet I love so; abrasively
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Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 2:14 AM UTC
love ways (10w)
I’m aching borderline pinching with the shakes Abrasively I’m dialing Itchy skin fingers toy with fine dining What do you know about blame? And do you always think you’re definitely in love this time?
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Feb 18, 2022
Feb 18, 2022 at 12:48 PM UTC
midday friday
- it was working towards me in tiny increments with this unusually adamant determination loop-scooting itself across a hot gravel desert populated by abrasively inert killers scraping off bits of itself in detail along the way i gave it a lift— it rolled into a tight ball, relaxed and then died in my hand its last act, a lamenting as if i had denied it some chosen final resting place leaving me holding this barometer for measuring the spaces between those less than lofty of goals in the better part of my years... s jones 2021 .
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Aug 8, 2021
Aug 8, 2021 at 8:00 AM UTC
"inches"