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"backstabbed" poems
She looks in the mirror; Oh, how ugly! You say. She touches her soft pink lips; And you remind her of her ugly lies. Ugly lies! Ugly lies! Only trash coming from her heart. She looks at her eyes; Her dull, soulless eyes — You tell her, how bland! How flat and bleak! It’s because of all the things That she has seen. She looks at her body; You say, what an ugly mess! You have all these fats Placed in the wrong spots. Why not starve yourself to death? She turns around and looks at her back You remind her Of the ugly gnarled scars And how she was backstabbed By all that she loved Because she is insecure And will never be loved.
0
Jul 23, 2016
Jul 23, 2016 at 9:12 AM UTC
Glass of Insecurities
the sum of my parts is not greater than i am as a whole, no, i am not simply a collection of scars and ******** storylines, oh, i am more than the gristle and bone the fibers interwoven through my arms my lily-white striped clavicle this corpse is my throne i am not simply a ****** i am a ****** with a history i am mauve valleys' majesty, i am more than just my regrets and my atrophies and if it's not commendable, well, at least it's a story. i, simply because of my condition, have lived through more than you could imagine i have burned down in the depths with fire-skinned demons- with messes deeper than your credit-card sins- and i have managed to get through it these are my battle scars i've fought ******* wars and yet you shun me as if i'm not a hero as if i'm not honorable for just making it but i know you simply don't possess the tenacity or the strength of wit to deal with my **** there's no reason to reproach the type of behavior which keeps me alive when i've done greater things than you ever will stop staring like i'm some sort of reject like i'm something to pity like i'm something worth nothing like i can't recover this is just a bad habit and though you may find it disgusting i know i can find worse dirt staining your mind even if i leave this life without a square inch of me unscarred i have never backstabbed i have not given in while your inky secrets stay unspoken, mine are imprinted upon my skin and darling, that's all there is if i am hateful, i will show you so i have nothing to hide my mouth isn't lipsticked shut so what if i cut i'm still a good person and though my battle is visible there is nothing more around the corner i am here to stay so are my scars and that's all there is to say
0
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 2:43 PM UTC
you bite, i'll bite back
the sum of my parts is not greater than i am as a whole, no, i am not simply a collection of scars and ******** storylines, oh, i am more than the gristle and bone the fibers interwoven through my arms my lily-white striped clavicle this corpse is my throne i am not simply a ****** i am a ****** with a history i am mauve valleys' majesty, i am more than just my regrets and my atrophies and if it's not commendable, well, at least it's a story. i, simply because of my condition, have lived through more than you could imagine i have burned down in the depths with fire-skinned demons- with messes deeper than your credit-card sins- and i have managed to get through it these are my battle scars i've fought ******* wars and yet you shun me as if i'm not a hero as if i'm not honorable for just making it but i know you simply don't possess the tenacity or the strength of wit to deal with my **** there's no reason to reproach the type of behavior which keeps me alive when i've done greater things than you ever will stop staring like i'm some sort of reject like i'm something to pity like i'm something worth nothing like i can't recover this is just a bad habit and though you may find it disgusting i know i can find worse dirt staining your mind even if i leave this life without a square inch of me unscarred i have never backstabbed i have not given in while your inky secrets stay unspoken, mine are imprinted upon my skin and darling, that's all there is if i am hateful, i will show you so i have nothing to hide my mouth isn't lipsticked shut so what if i cut i'm still a good person and though my battle is visible there is nothing more around the corner i am here to stay so are my scars and that's all there is to say
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59
she didn't stab me in the back the way that people have in the past. she looked me right in my eyes and stabbed me in my chest. she didn't backstab me. she stabbed me mid-sentence, when I was still talking and still trusting her and then she watched me die.
0
Feb 2, 2021
Feb 2, 2021 at 7:50 AM UTC
backstabbed
Does your knife still remember the taste of my blood?
0
Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 10:44 AM UTC
Backstabbed
No matter how much you deny, A lot of people don't know, What really does go, On in your mysterious mind; They say you're ordinary, Sweet, simple and soft; But I know you better, You're enigmatic and a hopeless fool; I see right through you, I see right past your innocent smile, I see right past your sweet voice, I see that you're a lonesome being with no choice; To you, trust is a treasure, Which has no measure; To you, trust is a luxury, That you cannot afford to lose; You have a biased view, About this world; You think everyone is waiting, To hurt you real bad; You think the world wants, You to fall deep into a bottomless pit, You think they'd love to see, The light in your eyes unlit; According to you, Sharing your secret, Is like giving away, Your credit card; You may be a strong person, But right now, You're cautious, fearful and downright scared, You're scratched, bruised and disfiguring-ly scarred; You'd rather ****** your own family, Than share your deepest thoughts, You'd rather become a detached, holy saint, Than give anybody the access to your heart; To you, trust is a treasure, Which has no measure; To you, trust is a luxury, That you cannot afford to lose; But my dear, don't you see, That you're a trapped bird, Locked in a golden cage Totally not free; But my dear, don't you know, That we, your people, aren't your real foes; Your real nemesis, my dear, Is you; At first, your thoughts may seem mild, But after a while, They'll start running wild, Staining, tainting and darkening your pure, pure soul; Your poisonous thoughts will, Take away the goodness of your heart, Take away the humanity within you, And carefully replace it with - Fiery, scalding, burning anger, Cold, grudging bitterness, And a deep, carnivorous hunger, To annihilate the ones who love you; So, stop being so mistrustful, Open out your heart Slowly at first, Then all at once; Do not fear being backstabbed, Because no matter what, There shall always be people, Who will be there for you; Do not fear getting heartbroken, Because, my friend, you're so strong, And there are thousands of others, Who'd help you mend your heart; Do not fear everybody, There might be ten people, Who might hurt you, But a thousand more who love you; Contrary to what you think, Pushing away the world, Will make you sadder, Not safer;
0
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 9:02 AM UTC
Trust
No matter how much you deny, A lot of people don't know, What really does go, On in your mysterious mind; They say you're ordinary, Sweet, simple and soft; But I know you better, You're enigmatic and a hopeless fool; I see right through you, I see right past your innocent smile, I see right past your sweet voice, I see that you're a lonesome being with no choice; To you, trust is a treasure, Which has no measure; To you, trust is a luxury, That you cannot afford to lose; You have a biased view, About this world; You think everyone is waiting, To hurt you real bad; You think the world wants, You to fall deep into a bottomless pit, You think they'd love to see, The light in your eyes unlit; According to you, Sharing your secret, Is like giving away, Your credit card; You may be a strong person, But right now, You're cautious, fearful and downright scared, You're scratched, bruised and disfiguring-ly scarred; You'd rather ****** your own family, Than share your deepest thoughts, You'd rather become a detached, holy saint, Than give anybody the access to your heart; To you, trust is a treasure, Which has no measure; To you, trust is a luxury, That you cannot afford to lose; But my dear, don't you see, That you're a trapped bird, Locked in a golden cage Totally not free; But my dear, don't you know, That we, your people, aren't your real foes; Your real nemesis, my dear, Is you; At first, your thoughts may seem mild, But after a while, They'll start running wild, Staining, tainting and darkening your pure, pure soul; Your poisonous thoughts will, Take away the goodness of your heart, Take away the humanity within you, And carefully replace it with - Fiery, scalding, burning anger, Cold, grudging bitterness, And a deep, carnivorous hunger, To annihilate the ones who love you; So, stop being so mistrustful, Open out your heart Slowly at first, Then all at once; Do not fear being backstabbed, Because no matter what, There shall always be people, Who will be there for you; Do not fear getting heartbroken, Because, my friend, you're so strong, And there are thousands of others, Who'd help you mend your heart; Do not fear everybody, There might be ten people, Who might hurt you, But a thousand more who love you; Contrary to what you think, Pushing away the world, Will make you sadder, Not safer;
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80
My stomach aches. It's been quite a while since my stomach ached and I knew, something was wrong with me. *Demons dangling. soul shivering. heart breaking. life crushing.* I didn't know what happened to me back then, and just roughly do I know it now. I used her, when I first met her like a doll, like a puppet a toy for pleasure, a plaything for my lust. Later on I *adored her, protected her, trusted her, loved her,* but I never said 'I love you', till it was too late. It was a sunny day when you backstabbed me. Sis say I've changed now, but I am still the same man; I just learned to understand valuing what I have and not giving it away carelessly. *Shame you, shame your decision shame me, shame my tolerance shame him, shame his sadism shame you all and your egoism.* Lost my love, lost my job, lost myself I'm trying to make better, to grow, fighting the enemy hidden within us.
0
Aug 25, 2014
Aug 25, 2014 at 1:08 AM UTC
Hidden Within
He rose out of the ashes of corruption He pledged to protect our beautiful nation Befriend by many leaders Trump proved himself as those around him backstabbed a bright person to bring light upon a clash of crocked ideals Never selecting a "paid" vocation. He uses his heart and pride of country as payment as he smiles as those who fear and run from the truth their feet run on the pavement As they try to save what little they have left in a dark legacy Say what you want they can never replace a true and noble warrior Who took the oath of leadership Over the strongest Nation in the world The flag waves high in pride as he steps on the White House Lawn In earned light and proud stride. I support him. Trump. Our "Cheif of Nations In Command" of honest power and dignity I shower him with respect and praise as he earns a rose, the regal flower. As he makes a path, for all, a brighter day.
0
Nov 26, 2018
Nov 26, 2018 at 9:14 PM UTC
A regal Flower
I dont care for for ppl who lie Dont say you like me but want to be with someone else Dont tell me its over and keep going Stop pretending to be my friend if you talk about me behind my back. Dont make me look bad to make yourself look good. So over all that ive cut ppl out of my life Its lonely but not wasting my time with ppl who can't be trusted Sick of being backstabbed my kindness mistaken as weakness im open and honest why do you lie
0
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 8:21 AM UTC
lies
When the shoreline isn’t the third floor, lightning won’t fly at all or at once. the trees turn to plastic trees when Africa’s carved. We won’t 'hurt' them that much. I remember anticipation sneaking slowly when we all had butterflies in the stomach.   Remember the one who showed you what was new? The one who gave you chills down the spine? When the trees of earth are the algae of the sea, moss will be endangered species when the best mutation is gills, the pastime will skid from consumption to survival instinct. when the institution holds the artist down and uses two rolls of gorilla tape As long as everything remains the same we won't have to realize we're backstabbed. The universe crystallizes and the sea turns to muck; theoretical garbage and **** The clouds melt into the grass The mountains drop and when There’s no peak to see what’s left, I'll be on top of my mountain I got no hand in the outcome And so I’ll turn at last.
0
Mar 1, 2012
Mar 1, 2012 at 1:02 AM UTC
Atrocities
Silver roses breaking hearts. Beds with silver linings And piles of piles. Waiting all day in place For a person. Take a number, stand in line. You're not the first person here. He takes up his instrument, And plays one song. The only song he knows. The song of life. Playing E sharps and B flats, He composes as he plays. But he's not improvising. (He play's what's meant to be) His song sounds different to all Because their lifes goes to the music. If he plays a bad chord, You get backstabbed. It he adds a sixth, You lose a love. If he plays a major, You have a laugh. If he plays a m7, You fufill a dream. But sometimes bad chords sound best. And sometimes good chords make disharmony. But then again, Why do you care? You don't decide your life, He does. Everyone is under his control. Including him. His song is powerful. Even if he isn't. His music is what sets him apart. But he's just forcing you to hear his song. You can't stop listening. Even if you try. He adds twists And turns And buckles And cliffs And jumps And unrealistic explosions. But, he doesn't know why he's even there. He thinks, "Why can't someone else play this?" He's confused, Is it true or is it not? Or are his thoughts controlled by want? He doesn't know, So he continues on. His song dies down, Ending anti-climactically. But as his story ends, It starts again. It turned out, Time was cyclic.
0
Mar 7, 2011
Mar 7, 2011 at 5:36 PM UTC
To Sing a Song of Silver Roses (The Life of Song)
I’ve been backstabbed I’ve been backhanded I’ve been backflipping money I've been backtracking destiny I’ve been backed into a corner I’ve been brought back I’ve been traveling backroads I’ve been treated with the backlash I’ve been left alone with no backups • They’ve told me to backdown I’m back on the ground Dugout deep in their backyard But I learn from the backwards See me now in my new backdrop I’m working harder then ever, I can’t feel the backache They want me to backup but my moves don’t backtrack So they now pull out a gun out of their backpack They’re here to take me out back But this time I’m standing up, I now have a backbone So I fire back
0
Sep 14, 2020
Sep 14, 2020 at 9:12 PM UTC
My Back
What the hell? Just what the hell. I trusted you, Even I you've backstabbed me before. I gave you a second chance, And the only thing you do Is shatter it further All you could do, Is make it worse for me. In front of her, Her, the woman I fell in love with Really? That's what you're going To keep doing? Fine then. Never again.
0
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 6:20 AM UTC
WHAT THE HELL??
all i have is my laughter because i'm the idiot with trust issues the idiot who trusts everyone and they hurt me every time and i still come back for more! it's my fault: i let him bend me over, hand locked in my hair, grinning and lovebit and vulnerable. and right then he ****** a knife into my back. i can still feel the blade twisting and snarling and making fun of the girl with the ****** holes framing her spine. no i know, it's my fault because i trust no one even though i trust everyone and i trust that i'll trust again for you i was a flame... and i can be again i know i can because i live in this bruise of a cycle and i can't seem to break out of it so i get backstabbed and live to tell the tale, again and again and again
0
Dec 10, 2017
Dec 10, 2017 at 11:34 PM UTC
it hurts
they ask me questions like "why is it so hard for you to trust?" i don't reply. i merely think... well, i was ***** at 5. i was abandoned by my father, sometimes my mother & my family. i have been cheated on by "lovers" & backstabbed by "friends." every time i trusted: i got ***** i got abandoned, i got cheated on & back stabbed. every time i trusted, i got hurt. how are you ask me why it's so hard for me to trust...
0
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 12:03 PM UTC
Untitled
How do we dare to doubt? It's because we aren't used to happiness in life For far too long we have been the ones who give Maybe, that's why it is so hard for us to receive We are scared of being backstabbed Know life as the cruel place without light We are shy, timid creatures Coming to be tamed by love
0
May 2, 2021
May 2, 2021 at 12:03 PM UTC
How do we dare to doubt?
I walked to school that day Thinking "it was just another normal day" I talked to you that day Thinking "I'm so lucky to have you as a friend" I told you my secrets and you looked at me saying "I'll always be here for you" I thought I trusted you, well you proved me wrong. I went home that day thinking "today was a perfect day" but it wasn't and it never will be. For that was the day you backstabbed me. That was the day you lied to me. That was the day you decieved me. I guess it wasn't a normal day and it wasn't a perfect day, too. It was the day I decided "I can't trust anyone in this world"
0
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 4:24 AM UTC
just another normal day
My life's a steep regression As a plummet to depression No longer one, but a multitude - Little pieces of devalued Shattered, skewed and tiny Pieces of what was once shiny That has now faded - dark It's time to go embark The ship of life at sea Where the waves can go have me And I can spiral down Maybe slowly drown In the heavy weight of mind Of people who were once kind Yet backstabbed me to hell Wounds heal? Time will tell I want to end the hate But realise that fate Has something else in store As I walk out by the door En route, I walk and fall And I break, get up and crawl To what should be my end But once I took the bend All hell broke lose together Could I really, truly sever The link I have to life To rid myself of strife? It all look, now, so real Yet, strangely I could feel A warm, sticky sensation My life's final cessation And I see my end is near I freeze in pain and fear Of what I would now miss As I sink into abyss
0
May 15, 2016
May 15, 2016 at 3:42 PM UTC
Regression
I wish I can believe When you ask me how I am Though your words of false concern becomes muted by a high pitched tone ringing in my ears. You only ever come When you want to see something lewd A stranger, a one night stand Your pleasure is not my concern How rude of you. A so called friend Who backstabbed me once before I can't  listen When your hands are painted with my blood Are you here just to strip me of another layer once more? My two caretakers Who bound my hands and feet with repulsive diction. The make believe stories they would tell me is fiction. One day they'll act like water with a calm flow. And most, a terrifying blizzard of snow. My all time lover who broke my heart. You try to help now, but it wasn't noted before. A lot of the things that are happening now are because of your break up letter. You are only here to pay for the damage of my brain and heart. But I know you wanted to leave once you tore me apart. And the people at my school Who will pretend they knew me once I'm dead. Who believe they knew the suffering yet it became apparent too late. You act as if death is your motive to finally speak my name.   But you all have ignored the ghost girl roaming past the classroom door's window frame. Your words of false concern Is apparent to my eyes. I can see that you have tried. But "I'm sorry" isn't a good response to someone who is Already sorry for being this way.
0
Oct 30, 2017
Oct 30, 2017 at 11:02 AM UTC
The TV Boxheads Speak In Static
Dear life.... ...just for a day i don't wish to be misunderstood ...just for a day i don't wish to be judged ...just for a day i don't wish to be backstabbed ...just for a day i wish to be loved ...just for a day i wish to forget about my problems ...just for a day i wish to experience some moments of happiness ...just for a day i wish to feel at peace with myself ...just for a day i wish to truly live Do you think you could grant me all of these wishes? Or is it too much to ask?
0
Apr 5, 2016
Apr 5, 2016 at 2:50 AM UTC
Untitled 244
The worst traits to have in a relationship, I'm chalked full of 'em Might have all of 'em Been awhile since I counted 'em Kinda lost count of 'em Then lost track of 'em Surely didn't embrace 'em But didn't try to erase 'em Look I was either born with 'em Given 'em Or backstabbed with 'em Then blamed for having 'em Now all I'll I'm left with is 'em ©2024
0
Sep 6, 2024
Sep 6, 2024 at 6:19 PM UTC
~•§•~ Back Stabbed with 'em ~•§•~
I love my body. The way it's imperfectly perfect, slightly curvy around the edges inevitably flawed, tortured and tormented whiplashed and backstabbed but still and always a great piece of art. I love my face. The way its burdened by two chubby cheeks, bears a thousand emotions no one can perceive, how marvelously it masks my mind, ignored and ridiculed yet still chooses to smile. I love my skin. The way it is cold and warm at the same time, pale, puckered with fear tanned, tarnished with regret, scrutinized and scarred but still glows. I love my hair. The way it never listens to anyone but itself, acts as a tangled mess, an untangled spirit more or less, chopped off, pulled at yet subjects to shine magically. I love my lips. The way it speaks with kindness, guards silence and is often mistaken for its innocent kisses, parched, bled and muted but still a fiery, crimson code of concupiscence. I love my fingers. The way they wish to be intertwined with yours forever, snaps, shushes and points at the slightest arguments that arrives with such brevity and righteousness always kept crossed for better things to come by. I love everything about myself. I am proud of my body and everything that comes with it. What I don’t like though is the way you make me feel about myself.
0
Feb 14, 2018
Feb 14, 2018 at 2:57 AM UTC
Love Yourself
Numb, like the cement on the ground beneath me, stepped on, trampled, worn down. It can't stand anymore, cracks threatening to open even more, to spill out all its guts, and tell the world what really lies beneath it all, with its hints of emerald peeking out, excited to see what's in store, naive. If only it knew what awaits it outside, the terror of imminent screams that will pierce its mind and stay in there, a pinball bounced back and forth back and forth in a pinball machine; of the agony that will claw its way in and stay there, the way lions pounce on their prey, bring them down, and stay there gnawing on its meat, the bones that are left, and the vultures joining in the pickings. Maybe it's just me, but hopefully the green shall retreat back slowly, and come out when it's time. For now the world is shifting, no longer of feverish giggles of obnoxious, sticky children, the passionate embraces of lovers, and the glimmer of joy that seeps out of the wrinkles of a friend's face, but of loud, rude remarks of unruly brats that have been exposed to too many sins, cheating lovers, here one night, gone the next, leaving only broken hearts, tears, and empty tubs of ice cream, and gruesome blooming bruises that cover your face, as well as matching cuts that cover your "friend's" own face, and both of you backstabbed by each other, hurt, and with vengeance flowing out of you like tributaries. So go. Leave, and come back once the time is ripe, and things are the way they should be. The world and I are just going to hurt you anyways...
0
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 5:33 PM UTC
Sidewalk
Numb, like the cement on the ground beneath me, stepped on, trampled, worn down. It can't stand anymore, cracks threatening to open even more, to spill out all its guts, and tell the world what really lies beneath it all, with its hints of emerald peeking out, excited to see what's in store, naive. If only it knew what awaits it outside, the terror of imminent screams that will pierce its mind and stay in there, a pinball bounced back and forth back and forth in a pinball machine; of the agony that will claw its way in and stay there, the way lions pounce on their prey, bring them down, and stay there gnawing on its meat, the bones that are left, and the vultures joining in the pickings. Maybe it's just me, but hopefully the green shall retreat back slowly, and come out when it's time. For now the world is shifting, no longer of feverish giggles of obnoxious, sticky children, the passionate embraces of lovers, and the glimmer of joy that seeps out of the wrinkles of a friend's face, but of loud, rude remarks of unruly brats that have been exposed to too many sins, cheating lovers, here one night, gone the next, leaving only broken hearts, tears, and empty tubs of ice cream, and gruesome blooming bruises that cover your face, as well as matching cuts that cover your "friend's" own face, and both of you backstabbed by each other, hurt, and with vengeance flowing out of you like tributaries. So go. Leave, and come back once the time is ripe, and things are the way they should be. The world and I are just going to hurt you anyways...
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32
do you ever consider how others might feel? or did you think they were like you, twisted and made of steel? not everyone is an open book, as I hope you come to find you can never really tell what goes on in someone's mind today might be their worst day ever but I don't think you considered that, it's too much of an endeavor maybe the one they loved the most has died maybe they closest friend backstabbed and lied maybe they have bills that they're struggling to pay maybe it's a challenge to flash a smile and say "I'm okay" did you ever consider that?
0
May 13, 2018
May 13, 2018 at 2:31 PM UTC
the other side of the story
She don't know how much it hurts, It gets to me more than anyone else, All the past decisions and hurt come flooding back, One wrong thing said makes all that happen, It don't take much to lose trust and faith, It hurts to carry all the burden and pain, To not be able to let it go, To think about it all day every day, Everything she does is why I am the way I am, All I've been is hurt and backstabbed, Don't know what to do with all the pain but take it out on myself.
0
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 11:10 PM UTC
Past Pain
Wandering around the world Searching for something my own I'm looking everywhere, For a place called home I've had hard journeys I've fallen, but got up Never did I stop While trying to find, A home that I'll love I've had many breakdowns Many times my heart broke, But a single wish kept me going The wish for a home Days and nights passed by I sat on streets and on thrones But never did I feel like I'm sitting in my home I've been in many places Eaten on plates of gold, and of steel But, never did it taste like A home cooked meal I wondered many times How would it feel? Then, I thought, It doesn't matter As long as it's a home that's real A place called home Filled with love and life, Where I won't get backstabbed By somebody's knife A place called home Where I'll never be alone So, If I go out someday I'll know, I have a home Even in the hardest days, I'll have a home, where I can rest The problems will sweep away, By themselves To me, My home will be the best And when the time comes For me to sail towards the sky, that's blue I'll know that always I have a home Where I can return to So, I'll never stop looking For that place called home In this world, I just want That something of my own My home
0
Sep 17, 2024
Sep 17, 2024 at 8:49 AM UTC
My home