Clindballe May 2014

I feel nothing but emptiness. A black hole filled with sadness. Consuming me leaving me with loneliness. Eating me inside out to become nothingness. I seek revenge in this bitterness.

Written: May 18. - 2014
Jen Jo Sep 2014

How can life be both bitter and sweet?

Is almost like you're caught on fire and someone keeps pouring water to extinguish but you can not run away from feeling the pain.

You ain't bitter until you find such familiarity in the word itself.
LN Apr 2014

Maybe if bitterness was not my language,
You would've held on to our conversations.
Maybe if bitterness wasn't in my eyes,
You wouldn't have turned to look at her instead.

Josiah Wilson Dec 2013

You know what?
I don't even care
I'm fucking wasted now
With all my usual flair

You might know
I could give a damn
I'm drinking down this bottle
To get rid of the sham

When I'm drunk
I can't think for shit
And I don't remember
Not a little bit

So screw you
I'm getting wasted
And this sweet, sweet burn
Is just the rum I'm tasting

Dennis Go Jul 2010

I'll play thief
To the home
Of a rich man
And steal
Malt for my
Bitterness and ale
For the happiness
That was kept
In the mug
Of paupers.

These ingredients
Are a lot cheaper
On sidewalks
But mansions store
The most flavorful:
Bitterness
From the source
That stings
On the plate
Of paupers.

Jonny Angel Feb 2014

I taste bile in my windpipe
& wipe away my tears,
crying,
'cause
I was your fall guy,
got fucked by
your pretty smile.

Michaela Siaki Feb 2015

He means very little to me-
on a regular, uninterrupted day.
But when he talks to me,
he is maliciously welcoming.
He's toxically enduring
and determinedly warm.

It's possible Stockholm Syndrome,
it's definite injustice.
Sweet, sweet injustice.
Sweet interruptions.
My sweet bitterness to his sweet nonchalance.
And then;
sweet realisation that I may not be alright,
but merely distracted.

I always thought I was doing okay.
사리나 Aug 2015

being bitter is not my thing,
but when it comes to you,
i get bitter...
about everything.

but is it wrong to still get bitter even if few years ago,
the so called "us" was gone?
and we both know now that we're nothing,
but done.

sorry for being too bitter about everything,
it's just that you messed up everything.
and leaving me was your thing,
guess what? being bitter about you is forever my thing.

random, too freakin random.
Lilah Gran May 2015

Bitterness isn't just a state of mind.
Bitterness is another word for revenge.
One day, bitterness will consume me, and take over my world.

All the things I didn't do.
All the things that made me unhappy.
All the things that caged me, wrapped me, stopped me.
All the things that bounded me, forbidden me, limited me.

All the things that I should have done.
All the things that I should have taken.
All the things that I should have said.
All the things that I wanted.
All the things that made me happy.

Everything will come to me.
In bitterness.
At the end of time.
At the end of all things.

But before I die, I will take revenge.
I will take every little thing that consumed me, all that bitterness inside, pile them together, and burn it down to ashes.

And then I'll watch you watch me.
The fire reflected in your eyes, and I'll hear your thoughts before me.
Maybe I'll even let you join me.

I will set a bonfire.
And it will be the mark of my happiness.
It will be my revenge.

I'll take what's mine.
And discard this life I borrowed.

http://lilahgran.blogspot.com/2015/04/i-will-set-bonfire-it-will-be-my-revenge.html
Sean Pugerude Mar 2011

Always the critic
freeing to be above it
and deny goodness

Money makes the world go around
So the saying goes,
But sorry to burst that bubble
Not even love does that
Dusty, hussy, lucky, love
Stalls the world, when it turns sour
Love tuns to hate quickly and
Money mummifies us, wraps our corpses in bills
Beauteous, mellifluous love lets doves fly
Unlucky money make doves cry
Superfluous love, yuppie money
Comely money, plush love
Neither wins.
There is no versus, there is no fight
Both are emotional dynamite.

© JLB
Mary Winslow May 2016

We arrived in a rental car from Florida
our trunk packed with oranges
a reunion I had tried to avoid
the sting of it
clinking the last of my champagne glasses
the single stem they hadn't broken
sucking down every ounce of inheritance
always wanting more
his expression like solvent
dissolving bonds of blood
away.

I grabbed an orange, peeled it with a knife
squirting its juice reminding
each slight wound on my hand
of exposed pith underneath
though I may not bleed
it still hurts

I kept peeling the orange
my hands doused in fine spray
old wounds
do not strike the level
of prayers
just deep enough
to remind me
of pain's weathering task

the orange peel is origami paper
folded, twisted orange skin
a poppy
as it loses its petals
sunset
over the Gulf of Mexico
flares every shade of orange dropping
into the ocean

As the silver of dusk arrived
the orange peeled
I realized I had winced enough
for one lifetime and went back to the car
leaving my bushel of oranges
behind me.

copyright Mary Winslow 2016 all rights reserved
Emily Williams Mar 2014

Bitter snow blankets the ground
Cotton balls fall like stars from the sky
Its heavy weight drags me down

The cold flakes don’t make a sound
As they garnish bone bare limbs and the
Bitter snow blankets the ground

It clings to trees, mound upon mound
Loaded like the truths never spoken
Its heavy weight drags me down

Beneath the surface life is drowned
Trees slouch like tired shoulders
Bitter snow blankets the ground

But a blizzard pales when you’re around
Stiff and frigid as any storm
Your heavy weight drags me down

Stony icicles crack in your frown
Will this winter ice ever melt?
Bitter snow blankets the ground
Its heavy weight drags me down

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