"analytical" poems
He is Capricorn
I am Aquarius
He is Mars
I am Venus
He is analytical and practical
I am intuitive whimsy emotional
He is structure and rules
I am freedom and going with the flow
He is kids house ring white picket fences
I am spur of the moment camp outs and never settling
He wants to be on a white horse
I climbed down from that tower a long time ago
Or so I thought...
Because when his hand brushes mine, a chance meeting, all that I thought I knew melted for a second and I could see a Life doing it the Capricorn way
He is Capricorn
I am Aquarius
One chance meeting made me aware we could be something serious
What will happen to our two zodiac signs?
One chance meeting
I leave it all behind
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 3:14 PM UTC
I know that I will never marry Jimmy Fallon or Donald Glover or Joseph Gordon-Levitt.
I know that despite the myths, Brussels sprouts taste awesome.
I know that one too many tequila shots will automatically turn you into a philosopher.
I know that the sun sets in the East and rises in the West (or is it the other way around?)
I know that I am most happiest when I'm surrounded by amazing friends in the unseasonably warm March sun and a banjo is playing.
I know that a smile straightens everything out.
I know that although you can't forget the past, you can't let it dictate your future.
I know that having *** for the first time is weird, and so is ****
I know that my hair is golden, my eyes are blue and I will never be stick-thin as hard as I try.
I know that there are 24 hours in a day, 7 days in a week and 12 months in a year. But it never seems to be enough time to figure out who you are.
I know that people come and go but those that love and care for you will stay glued next to you no matter what.
I know that as much as it hurts, you will get over love.
I know that I will never have the courage to rap publicly.
I know that Kim Kardashian's *** is most likely not real.
I know that travel truly broadens the mind.
I know that I'm insecure and over analytical and anxious and easily frustrated.
But I know that I'm also passionate and determined and a hopeless romantic and a picky eater and a restless sleeper.
And above all:
I know that when I look at you I see past your eyes.
I know that when you're around I smile wider and laugh louder and flip my hair more often.
I know I dress nicer to remind you how beautiful you think I am.
I know that I forget to inhale and that the butterfly on my shoulder has to fly up to my ear and remind me to breathe.
I know that I care about you more than anyone.
I know that I let you into every pore of my body, every opening: my heart, my head, my...
I know that I am willing to jump in with my whole body and risk being drenched in water for you.
I know that I can make you as happy as you make me
But I know that you're scared and vulnerable and hurt
But if I'm sure of anything (and mind you, I'm not sure of much)
I know that I will hurt and be afraid and breathe with you to make you love me.
Apr 24, 2012
Apr 24, 2012 at 2:53 AM UTC
Sensation, intuition, feeling, and thinking,
Is wrapped inside a ball,
A small pink ball inside our head,
That won't stop till we're dead,
Analytical bedrock inside oozing theories,
Elemental atoms sizzling logic,
The imaginative stranger,
One abstracted and eccentric,
Walking with shadows,
Talking and mocking,
Through these theories inside us,
Tilting our caps ‘til we’re shaking our heads,
Pensive love in storming analysis,
Sapiosexually excited, piqued interest,
Unemotional and thoughtfully attuned,
Absently minded, always condoned,
Unconventional and impartially stringed,
Weirdly wired in auxiliary functions,
Misconstrued and misunderstood,
An ****** intelligence bleeding paranoia,
Knocking unto me,
Into you, inside us all,
It’s something we all yearn to be,
And when you fail and prevail we laugh,
Crickling crickets thinking nothing,
Washing down the storm drain,
With no thoughts fluidly sliding down my throat,
Pop goes no questions into absolute concise words like freshly broken glass,
Again shadows await, but different shadows,
Blinking at me staring at you,
Wondering what’s what, inside this dementia made sense of a lovely afternoon,
Inside your sane, autocorrected, predetermined, twitching, little…mind.
Inspired by Myers Briggs Personality Test
Tyler is INTP... Logician (Introverted INtuitive Thinking Perception)
The drifter, dreamer the absent minded professor!
SassyJ is INTJ... Architect (Introverted INtuitive Thinking Judging)
The starry-eyed idealist manoeuvring life as if a giant chess board!
What Myer Briggs personality type are you?... See link below
It would be great to know.Please comment!!
http://www.16personalities.com/intp-personality
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 10:30 AM UTC
Why do you people
think it so despicable,
that I won't share my time
on occasions in which
I'm particularly ******* miserable
I'll give you my reciprocal,
I don't need your help
I'm strong as an individual.
And I do not, intend to be critical,
but too many choose to use emotion,
over thinking that's analytical
That's why i need to be alone,
Both mental and physical,
It's kind of a ritual, interaction is minimal
It's never been personal, it's more of a principle
I hope you'll find it forgivable,
I am sorry,
But I'm strong as an individual.
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 1:44 PM UTC
A bridge from colloquial to courtly fare
A span where idealism and fantasy pair
A railway to the existential realm; celestial lair
A conduit through which rational discourse can flare
Deep medium to: forage, inculcate, and inform
Broad brush to paint rare beauty; sculpt surrealistic form
Incisive scalpel to surgically alter the societal norm
Delicate utensil to educate on civility and decorum
A literary ***** a prosaic construct
A mechanism our syntax to deconstruct
An analytical tool; an observational viaduct
Introspective milieu to reduct; extrovertive sphere to reconstruct
A semantical edifice that aspiring wit, lofty orations implore
An experimental structure gramatical anomalies to explore
A thematic repository in which concrete ideas, abstract notions to
pour
A vernacular cathedral butressed by an idiomatic core
Jul 25, 2012
Jul 25, 2012 at 6:37 PM UTC
reggae school is a place to learn or at least thats what they say
but really reggae schole is where kids are scared and they pray
no fun allowed at reggae school, the teachers think that they are cool
a girl tryd to sneak in ****** the principal caught her then he beat her
but all hope is not lost at reggae school
for santa clause's reggae brother santa kush came to save the day
santa kush is nice, smart and rolls a blunt that could blow you away
he save da children and he rips a **** too
santa kush read poem and do analytical review
santa kush save the kids from da reggae school
thank reggae jesus, he's reggae cool
Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 1:27 PM UTC
A true story of a chance gathering of strangers in the back room of a Gelato Parlor *** restaurant, two years ago, in a little village near the bay, on a land surrounded by vineyards. Come visit.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Gelato Nation
There is a place,
location secret,
mine to keep,
mine with which
you to tease,
make you envious,
a back room 'office'
jealous guarded
by a barkeep,
whose chosen invites sweeps
you into a reality that is
what you will it to be.
But nota bene, note well,
remembrances of things swell
from your past be the
only tongue spoken here.
Code word entry only,
a shared whisper.
Perhaps One Woman,
may reveal its pleasures,
if she so chooses,
which are:
gelato laughs, poetry snaps,
Beatle songs sung ensemble,
by rag tag strangers
self-collected accidentally,
sung de rigeur off key
by voices lubricated by
cognac, laughter, and
the coldest of white wines,
issue of the very soil
upon which we sit.
Words to value properly,
not in my possess to capture
the few moments in time when;
Strangers transform themselves
into a triple A nation united,
that will never be
S&P; downgraded.
A holy alliance
celebrating July 4th
all night long,
all participants
signatory witnesses to
its gelato conception,
as well as pallbearers
to its last drink dissolution,
the fullness of its lifetime
a vintage of a few hours extant,
a vintage, once drunk, is
a history, forever gone.
Mixologists please record:
One playwright, a psychologist, bond trader and a social scientist
with a dash of museum director,
and do not forget the
Hundred Year Old Woman,
whose Dowager Princess Daughter
(she, a mere eighty)'
from Central Park West
clarifies all of life dilemmas with
the singular analytical tool of:
But is it good for the Jews?
**But t'is the barkeep
who is the leavening
in this evenings human
pastry-petrie dish.**
He makes the pastiche,
the ions of personalities,
coalesce best,
guitar strummer,
singer of songs that were our
multiple national anthems
when we were pseudo-rebels
starting out on our
long and winding roads.
Long the King of the Keep!
Long live the memory of our
Gelato Nation,
may it stay sweet in
our antique collection of
the best moments of
our intersecting lives.
July 2011
Jul 4, 2013
Jul 4, 2013 at 6:00 PM UTC
Please allow me to slip into something a little more comfortable
Something like, your mind
I'm stimulated by your kind
Because thought processes excite me
Deep and Wet with the waters of critical analytical thinking
Flowing like the rivers of time
Can I gently caress your intellect?
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 8:22 PM UTC
There are many definitions of pride,
All in which, are perceived from a side,
Notable opinions indeed when we’re addressing the dogma that arise when mind project words that express one; wise,
However, it’s all contrary to me,
Pride isn’t something relating belief,
It can’t be put aside if it’s beyond side; choice/time,
Egoist defined when declined, rejoice inclined,
I can’t respond to a situation,
There’s no resolution when living unconditional and uncertain,
I am beyond interpretation,
I do not allude in illusions and wonder why they’re certain,
Abracadabra Hocus-Pocus...
Omm, “This State Farm jingle isn’t workin,”
AHP; “Magic”; Ouroboros,
Analytical Hierarchy Perspective on Serpent,
“They have power; They influence the course of events with supernatural forces”
That’s Magic?
The law of attraction; influencing life with thoughts; Quantum Mechanics, Force is,
Say “attract it,”
Demographics defining diplomatic, power be to the tree that’s aristocratic,
Problematic if geographic determines what’s democratic,
Tragic when ethnography constitutes what’s archetypal and habitual;
A classic ritual opposite of obsolete; of course bigotries automatic,
Bring back the art of holographic,
I’m leaning back like Crack if it’s dogmatic,
I do not understand how we understand species before intelligent and acknowledge intelligence like we never had it,
As if dyslexia was a natural condition; as if this ability was somehow previously hidden so with awareness became magic,
Freedom of speech,
“But I don’t like your words, sir”
Freedom to be,
“Those are not the clothes I prefer, sir”
Being discrete,
“He’s not in my position, he must concur”
Oh, What is believed?
They’re obligated to assumptions, so they infer most-
Too much pride will **** a man,
By picking a side he’ll lose a hand,
If using his pride he’s sure to win,
If losing his mind; insane a friend,
Clueless of time; he’ll never die,
Til P take a Ride, and replace his pride with another man’s.
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 5:30 PM UTC
the mathematical statement in fluid mechanics that, for a fluid passing through a tube in a steady flow, the mass flowing through any section of the tube in a unit of time is constant
instantaneous our love defined,
a fluid mechanic in the realm of ethereal,
where unlimited immeasurable undefinable
mass time flow sweat pulse anger forgive caress kind
quantifiable terms of our equation unique
in this poem
no waxing poetic,
excellent pure licked lips
are quantums and quarks visualized
though invisible the flow constant per unit of time from
initial good morning kiss to intemperate
indulgent good night conclusions
submitted here for your
analytical digression importuned
the square root of the continuity equation's solution
is
.......
Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 9:24 AM UTC
Martin comes out of the city,
I go in.
After months we meet again but I run left,
acting unbothered, avoiding eye contact
His Cambridge degree is on its way:
PhDs, political science and analytical history
but 20 is such a
******* tender age
So I am nervous- more than ever,
cause he used to put my mind to the acid test and
now I don't know what I am supposed to do with
all of his secrets.
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 3:16 PM UTC
Use amethyst for everlasting creativity in your organic endeavors, to keep mental sobriety, to calm the drunkenness that is an overtly analytical mind and an emotional heart. Use lepidolite to remind yourself that love envelopes everything around us, and allow your own to radiate and touch those who need it most, never disregarding yourself. Also to trust and have faith in your unique energy, to channel your strength and allow yourself to dream awake, and live every day in love with the universe.
Jan 11, 2017
Jan 11, 2017 at 7:34 PM UTC
Does it hurt when you do this love?
A little, you've been out of touch for so long its like removing a pin.
Why do you hurt me my love?
I'm a sadist, you're a *********
That's not true though is it my love.
You hated hurting your girlfriend.
You hated hurting your mother.
I can see the pain well up in your eyes but you never shed a tear.
You're hurt too though aren't you.
I can feel you, bringing me to my knees.
I'm tired when hurt but you, your murderous.
I can feel you punching away at my chest, my stomach.
I love you so much, I need to stop them from hurting you!
Everyone knows one crazy person, who would have thought mine would be inside my head.
My love, please don't call yourself crazy. They just don't understand.
Who are you my love? Are you a saint or a sinner?
I'm nothing.
What do you feel love?
Nothing.
Why are you writing love?
So I can talk to you.
Set me free. Lets watch the world burn together.
I will **** myself before you get out.
What do you want other then ******
My love, you know the answer to this question.
I want you my love. I want to stare into those eyes and watch you wash the blood off our body.
I don't enjoy the sympathy I have for you psychopath.
You learn to appreciate it, like my pity for you my love.
How have we survived so long.
Because we want to my love.
Secretly you want to live, like me.
Why do you want to live?
My love stop playing coy, you know the answer to these questions what do you really want to tell me?
I want to **** you, you want to **** me.
We can't live without each other my love so you love me.
I think that's why your girlfriend is emotionally broken my love.
Over analytical much?
No, just pointing out the obvious my love.
Relationships are hard.
And you wonder why I want to end them all my love.
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 7:24 PM UTC
Analytical Critique of Unconscious Thought
acting out without conscious thought
like those silly shorts that you just bought
the gaudy plaid in a stripped world
capacity bottom-up weighting rule
convergence conclusion you silly fool
uncalled for diatribes that you unfurled
magical spiral of unspoken words
formed by hand into painted sherds
genius clown keeps lips tightly curled
Gomer LePoet....
Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 1:41 PM UTC
I don't know how to act when women are involved
The world doesn't want my kind to begin with
Lack of significant motivation to get anything done
My wife thinks I think God is real
I'd find out if God is real
My voice is too nasally
I waste my wife's money
I can't figure out how to be normal
My dad is an alcoholic
I'm an alcoholic
I burden everyone I'm around
I seek attention
I don't want attention
That embarrassing thing I did in third grade
That embarrassing thing I did in fifth grade
That embarrassing thing I did in sixth grade
I cheated on my wife
I made another girl think I really loved her
I made another girl think we could run away together
Then I ran away without her
Blasphemy
I don't have a real job
I think I'm better at everything than I am
I think I'm superior to most everyone
I don't know what it feels like to be happy
I like futa
I cheat at my own goals
My family would be ashamed
My brother is a hikikamori and it's my fault
I scold him for it
I steal from family
I cannot empathize
I put down others to feel better
I do not want to live
I am self destructive
But not enough to count
I wear a mask around everyone
Except when I have a few beers
I listen to teenage girl scene music
I play garbage video games
I hate people who are like myself
No one cares
I lie to my spouse
I fantasize about her friends
I like cringy memes
I like memes
I think highly enough of memes to add them to this list
I prey on vulnerable women
By acting hopeless
I really am hopeless though
I seek approval in my writing
And I pretend I'm good at it
I'm too analytical
I play games no one cares about
I say things that aren't funny
I say things that aren't funny enough
And I laugh way too hard sometimes
I don't know how to keep a relationship going
And I can't make smalltalk with a straight face
I am a walking contradiction
I agree with both sides
I agree with neither side
I just want to be difficult
I insist on things that simply aren't true
And above all else I still think I'm going to heaven
Apr 24, 2018
Apr 24, 2018 at 4:05 AM UTC
Capped at the knees again,
Just another year flying with its scythe,
Cut back down with my feet rooting in cold soil,
Continue the rebuild for lifes reap,
Waiting for the clasp of hopeless farmers hand,
I know why with all the analytical purpose,
To serve life chain propaganda,
Evolutionary biome's scandal,
Breaking free from the loop you have set on full speed,
Watching the track play out,
Another record hollowed out,
High on the repetitive sound,
Loud it rings around space,
Lacing milky ways courted silence,
Rays transfer and escalate along empty darkness,
Light reflected gas,
Champagne bubbled star sky,
Here I lie severed before decay curls,
Wrapping a broken brain
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 3:32 PM UTC
I have spent considerable time engaging with reflections of Narcissus, to no constructive avail,
And I have also borne witness to those very specific colours which parade themselves across public squares of irreverence.
I wish no harm, my friend of diminished insight.
Shall we dance across this planetary genius, where cosmological families are able to expose their tantric beings without reserve?
I bid you farewell, my dear.
Mar 8, 2014
Mar 8, 2014 at 11:39 PM UTC
Tonight I danced with strangers in the rain,
provoking even demons to dream.
Dream of silence.
Dream of dreams we've dreamt away.
Jan 13, 2011
Jan 13, 2011 at 12:55 PM UTC
The writer's life
Consists of looming strife
For a writer's eyes are keen
To the suffering that usually goes unseen
All writers are bearers of truth
Wielding their pens like a scalpel that cuts through
All the **** we tell ourselves
That keeps us in denial
A writer seeks truth incessantly
And eventually comes upon the somewhat ambiguous answer
That all truth originates from Love
How does the writer's analytical mind
Grapple with such a fluid concept?
The writer sees beauty in the invisible
Writes poetry on bathroom stalls
Lives life solely for stories
The writer feels things deeply but doesn't speak them,
But rather scribbles her thoughts fervently in a notebook
The words dancing on the page
As they are released from the tip of the pen
The writer knows, sadly, that even though she writes stories to make people feel less alone
That these people will never truly ever understand her and neither will
She ever be able to fully embody the experience of another human
The writer has wounds that go deeper than you could fathom
When no one was there to turn to,
She picked up a notebook instead and released the toxic emotional build-up in her head
Made art out of her sadness on the page
Through poetic words,
Elusive and enigmatic,
She could tell her story, indirectly
And still set herself free from the ******* of unspoken miseries
The writer's life is a privileged one indeed
For we see things, but don't speak them
But rather transcribe them forever in our memories
Until we find a clean sheet of paper,
And write
Write everything we've seen, heard, tasted, felt, known and intuited
Every struggle and every victory
Meticulously crafted upon the bare canvas
Like a war zone with an abundance of pent up zest
Finally unleashing itself upon the page
So, write, my fellow Writers
Write fearlessly
And our stories will prevail
They will impact even just one person
Who thought they were all alone,
Perhaps like we once felt.
Jun 4, 2017
Jun 4, 2017 at 2:01 AM UTC
The problem is that the problem still remains there
Always it's important to know the root cause of any problem
Understand it and understand properly
Understand the exact nature of the problem.
Understand exactly where the problem lies and what exactly is the problem at present.
Once understood,
then try to study and also understand the nature of problem.
Definitely in the present moment of time the problem is that the problem still remains there as it is.
Innovations and innovative thinking will definitely not solve the problem, will also not bring the much needed change.
Extreme situations need extreme measures to be taken similarly,
in the same way complex situations need perseverance and analytical thinking.
Agreed that things change,
new things happen in life,
but also agreed upon the fact that an individual becomes an experienced individual only and only when same old mistakes are not repeated.
So smile to make things feel light and easy,
but also always keep in mind,
always better to sort out a complex problem rather than taking a new,
different route and starting somewhere along the line all over again.
Time runs fast and so does a situation and it’s nature that changes
So always act according to the need of hour
Act in the present keeping in mind everything with regards to the present.
Initially take small steps making sure that every step taken is done keeping in mind the fact that anyhow in the end it’s important to reach to the destination.
Obstacles will come along the way,
obstacles will be handled,
but time will always play a very crucial role.
So never lose hope nor faith
Keep going,
see to it that after experiencing the highs and lows of life,
time now to start again,
all over again,
something new,
keeping in mind all the experiences from past.
Definitely an experience comes along with time,
experiences enrich life when lessons learnt from those experiences come to rescue in need of hour.
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 10:03 AM UTC
Juxtapositional Refinement Redefined (Spoken Word- Freestyle-Dramatics)
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
== JRR ==
by
SassyJ
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Credits to: Angelina Lopez (HP Poetess)
(Copy the link below to your browser)
Juxtapositional refinement redefined:
When you meet beautiful souls we have been taught by the society to confine them. Like "I love you" but what does that word really mean. Does it mean "sharing in openness" or does it mean " been confined in expectations and obligations".
The paradigm that we live in as society is delusional. We have learnt to analyse the "in between" based on our analytical and logical systems. But how about going to the individuals involved and creating an open dialogue to talk about what the situation may be. This is a thorough and more accurate way of attaining acuity.
To flow in openness is like listening to 'harmonious jazz music' ...... it is like inhaling the beauty of the ginger scent in the breeze.
Life itself speaks to us and we don't have to make it complicated. If we only were able to have an open platform..... hearts that are blissful and not tainted by fear then we can redefine the contrasting views of dichotomy that we have as mankind.
In essence, If you haven't communicated to someone openly about something ...... we should never draw out conclusions. They will only be pre-judgemental notions oozing with constraining predefined and predetermined assumptions. Give everyone a chance and the world will smile!
Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 11:09 AM UTC
Touch
You cannot lift or load it,
over your shoulder, throw it,
to best assay its weight -
is it ponderous, full of big *** gravitas
or a snack, a parfait desert,
a haiku delight?
You cannot touch it,
but it can touch you,
It can grasp both your shoulders,
shake you from complacency,
put its hands upon thy throat,
gasp emit, a scream demanded,
paint whimsy lines on thy face,
from ear to ear.
See
With yours eyes, by a mere glance,
true reveal its length,
stanzas multiple or an itty bitty ditty,
but this gives no value clue,
Ogden Nash vs. Tennyson,
in two minutes make you laugh,
in twenty, make you beg, mercy!
Smell
Some Poe poems do stink,
befouled mushrooms in
a dank place, some require nerve to read,
but your olfactory be ill suited for
poetic deconstruction and criticism.
Hear
Wake you with kisses upon thy face,
inject love poems into thy ears,
straight to the brain verbal crack *******
yet even the hearing the whisper
of words from my lips,
is an insufficient,
sensorily speaking methodology,
of how a poem, to best comprehend
How then?
If touch, vision, smell and cursory hearing alone
can't essence capture, what then, weary reader,
is the supposed Laureate's approved analytical tool?
Taste
Each letter, a morsel in your mouth,
Each phrase, a fork full of pleasure,
Each stanza, a full fledged member
in a tasting menu,
Perfect only in conjunction
with the preceding flavor,
and the one that follows, and the one that follows.
Taste each poem upon thy tongue and then pass it on,
you know how....
Each word, whether chewed thoroughly,
or lightly placed upon a bud for flavor,
needs the careful consideration of your mouth.
Feel the light pressure of the tongues tip
upon the roof of your mouth
and the exalted exhalations of
air rushing past thy cheeks
as you messenger breath from
your chest to be shared with the world,
over the poem's interpreter, your tasting lips.
*As I lay each word down,
a brick by brick edifice construct
of mine own design, I am sated, fulfilled only,
when with I see your lips move
as you savor my words,
my taste you share,
and we are closer for it.*
***Deaf, dumb and blind,
all such travails can be conquered, assailed,
but when I cannot, no longer anymore taste
my poems upon thy lips, then I breathe no more.***
Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 4:22 PM UTC
Never sits still unless
he's passed out on the floor,
playful smile hides wise eyes
as his beard talks to us
after communion with a bottle of Jack
and rolling down the rabbit hole:
*We have been going before the beginning
It's not what you know but how you apply it
Ancient knowledge is knowledge now
We follow what is right for us
Everything was a miracle once
When **** is happening, it's ****
it's only not **** once it's happened already.
Everything is general,
what we do is specific.
We're fighting to get past so many archetypes and realities:
nature vs. nurture
fight vs. flight
yin vs. yang
Right vs. left
male vs. female
analytical vs. emotional
visual vs. verbal
majority vs. minority
experience vs. innocence
What's the point of distance
when you can see yourself on another plane of existence
and not simply see yourself consciously?
When you see yourself, who are you?
You know who you are because when you ask the universe
it will arrive in time!*
Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 6:09 AM UTC
I've never liked the expression
'Sticks and stones may break my bones,
But words will never hurt me."
I think it undermines the power of words
It's undeniable that words have an impact on people
Letters strung together can sting a person's soul
When they are spoken with a tongue used like a whip
Words evoke passion,
They inspire us,
Make our blood boil,
Horrify us,
And yes, they can hurt us
To say that words can't hurt,
Is to demean all that words do
Look at Marat,
Martin Luther,
Shakespeare,
Darwin,
Hobbes,
Freud,
Orwell,
Paine
And tell me words can't change the world
Words are what I turn to when I have nothing left
I'd rather my bones break,
That would be much better,
Than to lose my dignity,
To have a record of voices
Tell me I'm useless,
I'm stupid,
I'm fat,
I'm never good enough
Always on repeat,
Always on my mind,
Always ringing true
Maybe I'm over analytical
Maybe I care too much
About things said in the past
But here's to all the "I love you's"
All the "I hate you's"
To saying "I don't give a ****
The pen is indeed mightier than the sword
Because your words
Are what made me turn the blade
On myself
Mar 8, 2014
Mar 8, 2014 at 5:38 PM UTC