"blackmail" poems
It is difficult to be a man,
For I am not a typical one.
It is hard for me to go on,
There’s a secret that pulls me.
I loathe when my memories strike,
They hit emotionally with might.
I struggle so much to survive,
In a world so deaf towards my cries.
I look at a He and my heart convulses,
For I recall a He who gave me kisses.
I was young, forced and naïve,
I fought but He was much stronger.
Society might tell that I’m gay,
For I let a man violated me in a way.
But I’m not a ***** and I’m sure,
I play a role for which others envy.
When I was a teen I met her,
I admired her even if she’s older.
I was then shy and very timid,
With mental and emotional scars.
I thought of her as a dear friend,
Then she turned to be my worst fiend.
One instance she forced herself on me,
And used things that hurt me so.
A girl’s tactics differ from the stronger ***
Tears she used first and blackmail next.
She was cunning, sly and very clever,
She stole my pride and my dignity.
My fears now mixed with anger,
My determinations got bolder.
I still cry and sometimes get lonely,
Like any other victim I want to fight.
I can not shout to the whole nations,
For societies will scorn at my declamation.
Both sexes forgot that I have feelings too,
I am also made of flesh, bones and spirit.
I am not proud of what I become,
Within me clouding reasons try to calm.
My desire is to win this battle to the end,
I am capable of vulnerability like any human.
But where does my right begin?
This universe has compassion for women.
The likes of me are expected to be steel made,
Yet I have feelings too for I am just a man.
Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 9:42 PM UTC
Katie the previous lives lady tries to rescue her nephew
Katie's nephew Jackson Gooden is in town to spend some time with Katie and it couldn't have come at a worst time, you see the kidnapper who kidnapped Graham Thorne, well his reincarnation was in town and he was getting a messed up head with everyone telling him he was mentally deranged, the only one who helped him was Katie, and when Katie took time off to look after her nephew when he's in town, he almost flipped his marbles untill he decided to prove to everyone else that he is Steven Bradley and use Katie as a blackmail target, you see what he plans to do is kidnap Katie's 15 year ok'd nephew Jackson and blackmail Katie,if she refuses to see him, the weight will fall on her nephews head and **** him, yes this is the way for Katie to make sure she makes me happy.
Katie begged for him to let him go, and then say you will be a pig in your next life, what you do here affects your future happiness, let my nephew go and we'll talk about treatment for your illness, and he said that he thought she'd understood him, but really she is just like the other's, and Katie had to keep telling him that he is good and will never stray, and she did that because her patient had a pocket knife at her nephews head, and Katie said, I believe this is the wrong way to handle your illness,,I told you that you kidnapped a kid, and seconds later you have my 15 year old nephew at knifepoint, you are
******* up, and also you are making a mockery of my good business, he just laughed still determined he'll **** him
And make Katie jitter.
Jackson tried to scream, so the knife would be removed from his neck, and Katie said, I will find a way that this man can't ever harm you,,you have to refuse to go anywhere with him, he had a weakness, and that is, if you laugh at him, he'll suddenly be scared of him, and Katie then said that she doesn't believe in laughing in her job, but she decided to make a exception here, because really she wanted time off with Jackson.
The reincarnation of Steven Bradley said that he will hold Jackson and Katie for a huge ransom and Jackson said, you can't get me, I am too smart, you see i am young, you are old
I'm a young dude, your an old fogie, i'm a young dude, your an old fogie, I'm a young dude, your an old fogie, a stinken little old fogie ma--n.
And then he ran and Jackson said 1 win for young against old, and then Jackson and Katie spent time sightseeing for 4 days and Katie, I know she is born to tell people previous lives stories, really enjoyed being away from the office and when she came back,,the first phone call made was a phone call to the cops, issueing a restraining order on that Steven Bradley reincarnation, and then Jacksoc went back to his parents house saying he was kidnapped by a ghost while Katie tried a new approach to tell people previous lives, so she can keep love one's safe for the future of her business, yes that's what she'll do.
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 4:50 AM UTC
Is it a bird?
Or is it a plane?
It's… It's… It's…
It's no limit to your dreams,
What you so desire to aspire to be,
All you must do as hard as it seems
Is believe that you can succeed;
Others may try to hinder you stride,
Some will so much as doubt you indeed,
But you cannot surrender to kryptonite,
Because I see the superwoman you are to me.
Dignified, poised, strong,
A superwoman you are to see;
Confident, able, young,
The superwoman you are to me;
What a superwoman, to the rescue
Even for villains whose ridicules tested you,
They cannot outwit the superwoman..
You are to me.
You have been mistreated,
By slander, blackmail, and betrayal;
Somehow you still stand undefeated,
No one has seized you to fail;
You are a heroine, a matriarch
A woman of admiration in any degree;
Willing to give and help from your heart,
And that's the superwoman you are to me.
Dignified, poised, strong,
A superwoman you are to see;
Confident, able, young,
The superwoman you are to me;
What a superwoman, to the rescue
Even for villains whose ridicules tested you,
They cannot outwit the superwoman..
You are to me.
It's Superwoman!!!
Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 10:52 AM UTC
I know of just too many Cyclopes,
Let me describe one of them better,
The one who preys on values of men.
So miniature he is - mere few inches,
So often in our pockets he is found,
So crooked he is with a single eye.
When among beautiful babes & gals,
He is active getting used in clicking,
Also used up is he sometimes by fishy men for fishier purposes.
This Cyclops was filming one such similar affair with a lady unaware,
Stripped naked was her body exposed to that bare,
Trick or truth, clothed or naked, she thought not about this cyborg Cyclops filming her **** ever in her wildest of fears.
The young lady is then blackmailed by the Cyclops's master,
"Be quiet about it and serve us in our industry,"
Threatened with publishing publicly of the moments - she gives in to this blackmail.
Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 12:54 AM UTC
I may of had shown you,
*my body,
on my camera,
on my Skype,*
But Know that I had trusted you,
*with my body,
when you said you weren't recording,
when you really were,*
Know you,
*can never be forgive for the blackmail you pulled on me,
the hurtful words you mindlessly sent like typing away at,
the someone who's nothing is a funny little innocent game,*
and you,
*hurt me the most when you could type away all day long,
like the fact that I was a human being with a soul meant nothing,
like how your words of trust should of been left for nothing,*
But you,
*play it off as if it was a joke because I did something wrong,
When I asked you as I cried because I though my life was over,
When ever I hurt you what ever I said I'm sorry*
**I said I'm ******* sorry to you,**
*When you should of said it to me,
you should of stopped ******* with me,
you just wouldn't stop,*
I told you,
*That I barley am going anywhere,
and you don't get to take the little hope I have left,
and throw it the **** away like everyone else,*
I told you,
*that Yes I made a mistake in trusting you,
but I have been ******* over by too many people,
but I never once thought it be you,*
I told you,
*That I never asked to get *****
I have no value in the body my soul walks in each and every day,
I told you everything you already knew about me,*
and you,
*still didn't ******* stop trying to hurt me,
you told me to **** myself,
you said I'm nothing more then a fat **** for guys who can't get anyone,*
you,
******* you made me cry even harder,
telling me your going to post it on my Facebook,
telling me your going to send it to my school,*
You,
*Made me black out,
because I couldn't calm down,
Because I couldn't deal with you and everyone in this **** town,*
You.
*were not going to be the reason I cant leave this hell hole,
but you were the reason I broke a almost four month clean stride,
but I don't remember **** from that night,*
**I wrote **** you,**
Justin *on my skin as if that ink could get all the pain you caused out,
and it clearly couldn't
and I told you,*
you win,
*because I didn't wanna play with the devil,
when you had no sympathy for others,
when you held my entire life in your* hand,
Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 9:41 AM UTC
Hold my heart for ransom
In exchange for your sweet whispers
Kisses and sighs in tandem
Along with moonlit midnight capers
Take my heart as hostage
A willing one it would be
Deep within its bony cage
Working up into a frenzy
Hold my heart at knifepoint
Incised upon I've already bled
Over cracked notions and disjoints
Chasing after hope that hasn't fled
Brand my heart with your seal
Press into and make your mark
Folded within is all I feel
Behind your insignia so stark
Choose my heart for blackmail
Ask of me whatever
Hope to accomplish without fail
Hopes of us do not sever
Play my heart like a toy
Adore me and hold me tight
Handle me with child-like joy
Share with me, squeals of delight
Mould my heart of clay
Wrap your fingers, twirl me round
Make me worthy of another day
To celebrate your sight and sound
Lace my heart and tug at it
Pull me closer so I could be near
Bind me tight so I would fit
Coveted spot beside you, dear
Enslave my heart on all fours
Lead me through your universe
Close behind us, lock all doors
Subject me to love's greatest murmurs
Place my heart next to yours
Let me be enamoured to the brink
In due time, and on laboured course
Perhaps we would finally beat in sync
Aug 30, 2014
Aug 30, 2014 at 8:27 AM UTC
Wake up negative!
Listen to that geriatric!
Wakes up so negative!
Ever tried being positive?
Go on, wake up negative!
Listen to that geriatric's
blackmail and blip,
Go on, wake up negative.
Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 10:21 PM UTC
One day someone will be taking care of me
When I'm sick and when I'm hurt
Someday I'll come home to a person
Who washed and folded all my shirts
Maybe in the future he'll make dinner for me too
And know how I'm feeling even if what I say isn't true
I'll work all day and get home so tired and worn
And maybe he will do, and feel, the same
We could just lay on the ground and order a pizza
Eat half of it and pass out where we lay
Wake up at four in the morning, only seeing silhouettes in the night
And hold each others hands as we find our bed without our sight
I'd make him surprise meals, maybe way too soon
And discourage myself as he's out so late that day
He'd come home and I'd tell him what I'd created
Although now its cold/ soggy/ not the same, he'd still kiss me and say,
"Thank you, baby. I'm sorry I was late, did I make you cry?"
And I'd nod and look nonchalant... or at least I'd try.
When we're apart, I'll think of him all throughout my time
Thinking of future gifts and laughing too hard at his past puns
Maybe looking like a lovestruck idiot in public
But he would know, that's just how my mind runs
And seeing each other again, I'd make sure to feel his face too much
He'd let me, since he would love my touch
He'd watch me sleeping ugly, with drool and farts and noise
He'd probably record it to blackmail me later,
Threatening with laughter to show it to all his friends
But little would he know that I could do one greater:
Revealing the albums of candid photos and videos in my phone
And I wouldn't be able to help it, he would just be so cute-prone
We may argue over something silly, something stupid, and I'd refuse to see him at all
Looking away when he walks by and ignoring him when he talks to me
He'd be hurt, and he would tell me that, my icy heart would melt away
And I'd hug him so tight and apologize for being a meanie
He wouldn't say anything, what if he doesn't hug me back?
...what if he never again placed his hands on my back?
What if I ruin everything? If my personality is immature and strong
He'll have had enough of it and he'll gently tell me he's letting me go
I know I'll cry, asking if he still wants to keep the gifts I gave
And my heart will be trembling as I fear he may say no...
Because each moment was a whirlwind of him
I'm afraid I'll ruin my future before it begins...
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 8:59 PM UTC
I was walking on the seashore when I heard a fearful cry
I looked out across the water where a man was drifting by
"You've got to help!" he shouted, "There's a lifebelt in your reach,
"If you throw it to me quickly I'll get back onto the Beach!"
I hastily began to do exactly as he said
When a little word of warning made its way into my head.
"You reckon this will help," I said, "that is what you believe,
"But to trust short-term solutions here is hopelessly naive.
"You think the belt will save you, and for now maybe it would
"But to teach a faulty lesson here could do more harm than good
"You want something for nothing and that just is not the way
"In the sophisticated economic climate of today -
"You need trade! You need trade, not aid
"You need trade! I can't help until you've paid.
"You say that you're in trouble and my help is all you need
"But a culture of dependency is all that it would breed!"
"What's wrong with you, you maniac?" he answered with a yell,
"I'm drowning in the ocean and there's nothing here to sell!
"We can talk about your theories when I'm back upon the shore
"Now just throw the ****** life-belt out, I beg you, I implore!
"You have it in your power and you know that if you can
"You've a moral obligation to assist your fellow man!"
I told him, "You are selfish! This is difficult for me,
"D'you think a drowning person is a pleasant thing to see?
"You shouldn't be in the water if you haven't learned to swim!"
He said "You no-good lousy ******* it was you who pushed me in!"
Well this kind of moral blackmail made me look at him, aghast
And say, "There really is no virtue here in dwelling on the past,
"You need trade! You need trade, not aid
"You need trade! I can't help until you've paid.
"You say that you're in trouble and my help is all you need
"But a culture of dependency is all that it would breed!"
"Don't be so pessimistic," I advised him, "you are rich!
"The sea in which you're drowning must be lowping full of fish!"
"If that's what you're relying on," he said, "to judge my wealth,
"Then you know that I have nothing, 'cos you caught them all yourself!"
I said, "Well, you can't argue with the laws of competition
"You were wasting time by drowning when you should have been out fishin'!"
When finally he died I said, "My brother, I will miss you,
"But maybe more importantly, you've highlighted an issue:
"Drowning is a problem, and believe me, now you're gone,
"I'll be on the phone to Geldof, Ultravox and Elton John.
"We'll organise a concert so that everyone can see
"That drowning is a menace, we should make it history!
"Using trade! Using trade, not aid,
"Good, free trade, the grestest plan we've ever made,
"You say that you're in trouble and my help is all you need,
"But a culture of dependency's a rotten thing to breed!"
Dec 6, 2010
Dec 6, 2010 at 4:25 AM UTC
To the men who have hurt me, both physically and emotionally. To the men who have sexually harassed me. To the men who have tried to coerce and guilt trip me. To the men who tried to take advantage of me when I was 15, the lowest point in my life. When I was weak. Destroyed from depression, from bullying, from the transition of middle school to high school, from anxiety, from blind parents and others ignorance. To those of you who knew I was in a ****** up state of mind, who pretended to support me when I was crying, only to run your hand up my thigh and whisper "I can make you forget about it." To the boys who abused me, insulted me, struck me, brought a suicidal teenage girl to the point of destruction. To the guy who didn't quite **** me, but who came close. Who grabbed all over me while I shoved and smacked and told him to stop. Who tried to get inside me without my permission and who tried to guilt trip me, calling me a tease and telling me to lay down and pretend nothing was happening if it really bothered me so much. Who tried to teach me to retreat inside of myself at human contact so I wouldn't resist. To every guy who approached a mentally destroyed teenage girl who was drowning in herself to try to get ****** favors, to try to get me to trade my body for drugs, to try to bring me down even further so I wouldn't say no. Because I did say no. I always said no and fought and nearly vomited every time a guy started groping, started making lewd commentary in what started out to be small talk, every guy that grabbed at me without my permission and leered and tried to grind on me without any context other than you had a hard on and I looked weak enough to force yourself on. I hope someday someone rips you all apart. I hope someone tortures you, tries to blackmail you, coerce you, makes you feel like garbage when you're at your weakest. Because as much as all of you tried, even this fragile, broken teenager rejected you. Fought her hardest to get away from attempted assaults and made it, clawing and screaming away from you. Cried silently as angry, mocking messages came in but didn't dignify them with responses. Ignored angry phone calls from multiple numbers and continued to live, even when you all tried to break me into a *** slave. **** every last one of you up the *** with a flaming ***** I hope you all go through hell. I was going through hell and you all tried to destroy me, to incinerate my spirit in the name of getting someone to touch your ***** I hope you go through worse. I hope somebody castrates you. If there is an almighty deity, I hope they curse you for eternity. I hope you all know that the girl you tried to destroy for your own sadistic pleasure is stronger than ever before.
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 7:28 PM UTC
Certainly our city with its byres of poverty down to
The river's edge, its cathedral, its engines, its dogs;
Here is the cosmopolitan cooking
And the light alloys and the glass.
Built by the conscience-stricken, the weapon-making,
By us. Wild rumours woo and terrify the crowd,
Woo us. Betrayers thunder at, blackmail
Us. But where now are They.
Who without reproaches showed us what our vanity
has chosen,
Who pursued understanding with patience like a ***
had unlearnt
Our hatred and towards the really better
World had turned their face?
Who knows? The peaked and violent faces are exalted,
The feverish prejudiced lives do not care, and lost
Their voice in the flutter of bunting, the glittering
Brass of our great retreat,
And the malice of death. For the wicked card is dealt and
The sinister tall-hatted botanist stoops at the spring
With his insignificant phial and looses
The plague on the ignorant town.
Under their shadows the pitiful subalterns are sleeping;
The moon is usual; the necessary lovers touch;
The river is alone and the trampled flower;
And through years of absolute cold
The planets rush towards Lyra in a lion's charge. Can
Hate so securely bind? Are they dead here? Yes.
And the wish to wound has the power. And tomorrow
Comes. It's a world. It's a way.
2.3k
The Buddhists Teach
There is a door
Between the conscious and the unconscious
On the threshold of awareness
Where, from this sleepy place
Mind-door takes in space
A snap-shot of what’s around
The shapes and the sounds
Be it red, blue or brown
Sensory fed and felt and judged
A conceptual conclusion
Based on memory and illusion
Served up ofttimes with a bit of confusion
The sixth sense of inclusion
Transcending time and allusion.
Knock, knock.
Who’s there?
The unaware
From where?
Memory Lane
What a pain
Insane and mundane
Tainted and sainted
Familiar and unfamiliar
It’s the object and the flavor
It only makes sense
To bring in the other scents
Can you feel it
Through my poetry?
Because I have no other way
I’m sending you the sweetest berry
In bloom
And tea scented perfume
For some lazy afternoon.
Starting out so poetic
Descended into the prosaic
I’d like to stay in those high-minded places
Between the sheets of my faces
I’m at peace and war with myself
No one else.
I know I shouldn’t get attached
Shrug it off with panache
When I think about impermanence
Makes me cringe and
create another circumstance
A twirling happenstance
A devil’s dance
A devilish lance
It’s getting better
Like frankincense
Then it fades
Like the past tense
How does one let go
When clinging’s become a way of life?
A hunting knife couldn’t pry
My pathetic fingers lose
Holding on to
A hangman’s noose
I’d scream and rail
Holding on
To the nail
That pierced my travail
As life stomped and pounded
grounded me down
But, I wouldn’t let go.
Oh no, not me
Fool that I am
Was it a question of pride?
A fear of the night
The ego chasing its’ tale
Personal blackmail?
A forgotten memory
A mishmash
Lack of mindfulness
A Pandora's box?
Nonetheless,
I confess
A little bit of everything.
I tell myself
Baby steps
Baby steps
Baby’s need to let go
And fall and get up
Or they won’t learn to walk
Or talk or grow up
It’s baby talk
And baby steps
Knock, knock
Who’s there
No one
Then come on in
Naked and all alone
Rest on the threshold of time
Rest on the threshold of awareness
But, In all fairness
Don’t expect it to last
Such is the nature of impermanence
Only the bliss shall remain.
You can find it once again.
When you learn to let go.
But,
Don’t listen to my advice
As you can see
I’m still holding on for dear life.
Oct 9, 2018
Oct 9, 2018 at 12:30 AM UTC
My mother, Sylvia Plath,
These days, I might laugh,
Electric oven, you know,
I was too young to know,
One way to go--
It was an electric stove!
I was too young to know,
I used to live in dread,
I learnt what blackmail meant,
She got cremated, you know,
I was too young to know,
These days, I might laugh,
My mother, Sylvia Plath.
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 1:36 PM UTC
If I don't attain you after 6 years,
I'll turn a hermit for sure, so sure.
A hermit entire life I'll despise it,
I'll bunk society for sure, so sure.
The society will bear the blame,
Apart from me it is responsible.
For your scary future decision,
I will lead the life of an ascetic.
Turning a patient seems better,
Leading a loner's life is awful.
Would be calling me life-long,
A traumatized stalemate state.
This is no blackmail but truth,
Bitter it may seem but it's better to turn a hermit if I don't get you.
Because achieving is love for me,
Silent love is not my thing dear.
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 10:16 PM UTC
May you both rot in hell
While we all cheer along to the wedding bells.
May you cry and sulk
While we’ll be buying all them flowers
Ordering in bulk
It's not your choice.
You can’t decide.
It's what she wants.
You can’t deny.
This is the moment in life
where she has every right
to choose where her heart belongs
This is the moment in life
Where she sees the light
Where she knows that Love can never go wrong.
All her life she blindly followed,
always listening to constant
“I know what’s best for you"
All her life she went where your desires showed.
Never uttering an “I dont wan't to” or a “No, thank you.”
Don’t use pointless blackmail,
Come on! If you fall that low
Then as parents you ultimately Fail
Do not be that shallow.
May you both rot in hell,
While we all cheer along to the wedding bells
©SHREYA DRISTI
Nov 16, 2015
Nov 16, 2015 at 12:09 AM UTC
This is western society,
How much is distorted realism?
Talk in sinister sexism,
Casually call criticism,
Typecast fashion femmes,
What about men?
High heels or no,
They'll call you a **
You can't blame women,
For control mechanisms!
Emotional blackmail,
A world run by males,
We should empower the young,
For their lives in the sun,
When was misogyny begun?
Any real chance of equality,
in our western society?
May 17, 2016
May 17, 2016 at 7:09 PM UTC
My buddies shared stories
When they wanted protection
But the ******** fanatics’
Decisions were static
Used all possible ploys
To manipulate guys
Into blowing their loads
In their pink little holes
These girls might be crazy
They may well be *****
For all we know
They might want a baby
Regardless of risk
My guys fell for their tricks
When one ruse failed
The girls went down their list
They said not to worry
*** and ***** are clean
When they ****** the next day
It burned like lit gasoline
They turned up the heat
Seduction was key
Till all they could think
Was with the head between their legs
It won’t feel as good
Sensitivity reduced
You won’t stay hard
And I won’t stay wet and squirt jets
You should accept my request
I thought we were cool
If you just trusted me…
Be carefree like a hippie baby!
Emotional blackmail
I’ll get mad if you insist
To protect your *****
Resistance is futile *****
They said if we must
Let ME wrap it up
I’ll secretly poke holes
Or slip off before you explode
She’ll have no *** at all
Or she’ll force you down
And stay on top
Making you drop the ****** to the ground
She says she’s on the pill
When she’s definitely not
Even if you pull out
There’s still ***** in your pre-cum, no doubt
Either she’ll give you disease
Or steal your seed for a baby
None of that is love
So wear a glove bubba
At the end of the story
They said don’t stick your **** in crazy
She might get too attached
You’ll wake up with your **** and ***** detached
Nov 6, 2024
Nov 6, 2024 at 10:50 AM UTC
I love you, but I am scared of you
I am scared of what you know
Of how you think and how you feel
Of how you are
I am scared of how you see the world
I am scared of how much you know of me
that I don't know of myself
I am scared of your ability
to hurt
to maim
perhaps
to ****
I am scared of how dangerous you can be
Of how dangerous you are
Of your dark tendencies
And your twisted mind
I am scared of what is in your head
You are evil
You threaten me
Blackmail me
Use your power over me
You say 'You don't know what I am capable of'
And I don't
And that is what scares me most
The unknown
Your mind is uncharted waters
I am scared to venture into deep
For fear of being hurt in the crossfire
Because when I am close to you
I fear that you will hurt me
Sometimes, when you are angry
I fear you
I fear for myself
I fear that I am only a pawn in your wicked games
You say you can do things to me
Though I know you never would
It scares me
That you could
You know too much
And see too much
Everywhere you go your eyes flit around
You breathe in everything
You take in every detail
I am scared
of what you take in
about me
Don't you see?
How you terrify me?
You barbarian
So violent, ruthless, unpredictable
Sometimes
It is as if I don't know you
You are a demon
A devil
The spawn of Satan himself
But I love you
I love you
But I am scared of you
Aug 22, 2016
Aug 22, 2016 at 5:54 PM UTC
I thought humans learnt from their mistakes?
Perhaps I'm the exception to the rule?
One would think you'd learn not to put so much trust in others,
In the end.... They'll abuse it.
When my best friend turned around and stabbed me in the back,
Hacked into everything I knew, everything I owned and used it all as blackmail against me, I thought I knew how it felt to Hurt
To feel genuiene Anger towards someone.
I of course was wrong...
Now, couple years down the track, I put too much trust into someone I now know I should never have. He turned around and stabbed me in the back and broke me. I though I knew how it felt to be Crippled
To feel like everything inside me Shattered
Single handedly ruined me and my life, shattered my trust in people and when there was no one there to support me... I fell deeper into the abyss. I sought refuge and support from the people I still held trust and faith in
They too abused my trust in them and broke me further, By now my pieces are too small to fit back together.
A shattered mine and a crippled soul but...
Everyone has problems. Everyone is hurting right?
I shouldn't complain, shouldn't tell you my problems because they're not your problems and why would you want them?
That's absurd
No matter what I say anymore, it is with an ill will
No matter what I do anymore, it is with an ill will
No matter how I feel anymore... it carries with it an ill will...
I am nothing but what people tell me I am
I can't begin to list how others make me appear anymore than I can begin to list how I appear in the mirror...
There is no thinking positively
There is no "It gets better"
When you're me...
...Even the saddest of emotions turn to anger.
May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 9:31 PM UTC
Never Have I Ever (Slam Poem)
5/27/2014
Having a best friend makes you think of weird things.
Stuff like:
Getting slapped in the face with a fish is more about smell than texture.
13 nights in a row drinking isn't so bad if you save cash not using mixers.
A stranger hitting on you is a storyline for tomorrow's lunch.
Redecorating my room is just for you, nobody else will see it.
You asked me to go shop with you, are you saying I need new clothes?
Crushing Ritalin in a bathroom, because we stayed up 'til 6am before work.
Pooping is like extra time in the day set aside to call you on the phone.
Why do we play Never Have I Ever when we already know the ever's?
People think we constantly say inside jokes, but we're just telepathic.
I get into shape before you visit town, because you're my best wingman.
If we ever stop being friends, I really hope you don't blackmail me.
Can I designate you to speak at my wedding, babyshower, and funeral?
... or is it too soon to do that?
Losing friends can make you think of weird things, I imagine.
Stuff like:
1. I should stop ordering carne asada fries - I can't finish a whole portion.
2. I keep my curtains closed - I know your car won't randomly be outside.
3. Having lunch alone ***** - I shared a crazy story with the cashier today.
4. I take my poops with the stereo on now - I never could go in silence.
5. My voicemail inbox is full - I can't delete any when your voice pops up.
6. Maybe I should call you.
7. I need to talk to you.
8. I wish I could call you.
9. If only you'd come visit town.
10. Maybe I should go visit the cemetery.
11. I have a new least favorite Never Have I Ever.
12. Never Have I Ever had a best friend die.
And I hope I never ever will put that finger down.
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 6:05 PM UTC
I remember the day you came into school with fresh slits on your wrists
You had written your world into your own flesh and skin.
Those lines created the pages by which I used to write down our story.
Those cuts displayed every flaw our relationship ever endured.
And I will always remember the day you kissed me
Telling me, begging me not to worry about you.
Telling me the drawings of blood were "nothing"
Telling me you loved me.
To this day, I am left overflowing with questions.
Did it hurt?
Did it make you feel free?
Did it make you feel alive?
Did it make you feel?
But more than anything, I want to know why you chose me.
And my god, I wish this was some poetic analogy for something beautifully tragic.
I wish this was some secret I was too afraid to utter.
But it's not.
And I wish that I had never seen such a horrific sight
Because those scars were not beautiful to me.
They weren't something to be romanticized
They weren't something to be loved.
Because every inch of your punctured skin was a nightmare for me.
I relive that moment every day of my life.
That image forever trapped within the confines of my skull.
And I will always remember the day you left me.
Again and again we fell together.
I held my pain in so deep it created canyons in the breaks on my heart.
But you.
You wore your pain like a badge of honor
You paraded your scars like they were trophies
But they were more than that.
They were a scare tactic that was suffocating me
A plot to force out every ounce of my love for you
A way to blackmail me into staying with you.
And my god I loved you.
And I could have loved you until the day I died.
But I couldn't see past it.
I Couldn't see past the traumatic illustration set before me
past the illustration that stopped my heart beating in my chest.
And I will never forget the day you walked up to me and showed me a display
Of my initials carved into the skin of your forearm.
Dec 31, 2015
Dec 31, 2015 at 1:50 AM UTC
paws pause on pavements -
a union fresh out of blackmail -
waste collectors
start sizzling
new trash - contemporary psychotic disorders are
goon makers -
purple heads on
blue bodies cause a skirmish -
you're happy
you're shameless
little piggies in a bay of meat -
fast track to coffee cup sleeves -
I believe in Mississauga
soap operas -
Oct 23, 2012
Oct 23, 2012 at 2:23 AM UTC
“Mrs. Tubb, prepare my raincoat,” he said, “I’m going under the carpet.”
His ears were steaming.
“I’ll be waiting by the hanged stag,” he said. “If it gets to six and I'm still not home, put tobacco in the telephone.”
Down there, at the foot of the stairs, Mrs Tubb’s tears fell to the flattened backwards.
In the middle of the night, whilst she was sleeping,
And without her permission,
He had changed her name to Margot St. Vincent.
“Take off that murderer’s moustache and stretch out on the infamous Chelsea Blackmail Floor.
Ask the biggest bugs to dance,
You may never get another chance.”
The quietly handsome and magnificent Millicent Milligan was feeling rather ill again.
She had been dreaming of the brittle marigolds of Saint Petersburg.
She had been dreaming of pine cones and boiling marmalade.
Her home had fallen into a hole.
It was on the evening news,
But by the following morning they had lost interest,
A mountain had struck a commercial airliner and so no one was much impressed by her Home in Hole Hell.
355 were dead,
And possibly a well known racehorse,
And a corpse in transit who, of course, was already dead, but still, it was vexing for the family.
They found a priest in a poplar tree,
And the head of a hand model at the back of a cave.
(The hands were still intact and were couriered to their agent in a special flask).
Half in, half out of her delicious stockings
Wendice Titian cuts out scissor clippings of her
Sinister yellow sister.
Overnight the years twist.
Edgar Snooker has heard he is to play Hitler's dog on the silver screen.
Edgar Snooker is not a dog.
And the screen was never silver.
And besides, it is not true.
Someone is out to destabilise him.
As posh, brainwashed sausages consult
The Punchline Advisor of Dunkirk,
As the Lord is seen on all fours on His moon
Causing daily electrical police misfortune,
As the masses embark on the clamorous, scattered and impossible journey to disappointed purity,
As her money is without temperament,
As the self-conscious guilt daughter unbuttons her plush helmet,
So the richly magnetised stars are winding down.
As candles whisper in the middle of the road,
As Margot St. Vincent revolves the nickel tap
Of the gas powered knitting plate,
So Father Flynn is inconsolable.
He found a photograph of ****** Bob on top of his wife’s hat.
She denied everything,
Including that she was there at all.
Father Flynn fell for it.
That's faith for you.
Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 8:12 AM UTC
You lull me into security
And offer to be my friend
You tare away what little
Pieces of love are left and
Feed them to my brother
Untill I can't take it
And accept our transformation
I thought it was for the better
To be treated like an adult
But I didn't realize
That your tiny share of like
I can't even call it love
Came with strings attached
You would treat me like a friend
Talk with words not melodies if..
You could remind me you were my mother any time we fought
If you could blackmail me with things I want to do
And order me around like a king when you are mad
To talk about me behind doors in hushed voices
And discuss my stupidity,
Uglyness and horridity
If you could spread rumors and tell people you think I'm anorexic and fat at the same time
But all the while tell me to my face that none of that is true, that we are friends and that I could tell you anything
While now the shrade is up
I've scratched the cards
And removed the grime
And I don't like what I see
But at least it's not a lie to me.
The truth and honesty being pain
But not as much
As the realization that we will never be the same
You took your love and gave me something fake
But now I've broken down the crude cardboard sign and I won't fall for it again. Because now I know
What paper hearts look like.
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 12:30 AM UTC