"buzzkill" poems
I'm a normal person I love to drink
When I say I don't its not to be a buzzkill because I'm not drinking. I never said I was better you make out to be that way if that's what it takes you must not have much going on with you!
I see you do shady and stupid **** but I see it that's on you. Now when I make a mistake would you please **** and not put me on the spot.
How is it my fault your partner cheated maybe if you put out or not such a shallow person you have someone.
You may have same job but going anywhere and I'm the one who's a bad influence.
You want to give *** advice with your STD I think you need to ****
Mar 27, 2013
Mar 27, 2013 at 1:48 PM UTC
You are that person everyone knows
Who ******* almost constantly
About everything that ever goes
Away from how you think it should be.
You have it worked out in your head
Who should get what and when
And how much is right or wrong
And exactly what kind of men
Should have luck and who should
Suffer a miserable fate.
And which people are no good
And which race is truly great.
Why do you take such joy
In making folks around you cry?
So much so that the best thing
They hear you say is goodbye.
Why do you choose hurtful way
To get yourself some attention?
Isn’t there something you can say,
Something nice you can mention
That will make people smile
And not run so quickly away
Then stay with you a little while;
Enjoy some of the things you say?
When did all this all nastiness start?
Is it something from your childhood
Made you take pleasure breaking hearts
Every single chance you could;
And if people are having fun
Makes you jump in and stop
The frivolity and joyousness
Like some kind of buzzkill cop.
Life might change for the better
If you returned the smiles you get.
You’re a big grump now, for sure
Be nice and people will soon forget.
Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 7:35 PM UTC
Buddy Buzzkill
Waits ‘til nobody’s home
Jimmies a window, sneaks in
And is free to roam.
He smokes all the dope
Drinks all the alcohol
Eats all the food
Until none is left at all.
Then he sleeps in your bed
And sneaks back out again
He comes back; hears you moan
How somebody broke in
And robbed him when he was not home.
Buddy Buzzkill
He’s a special king of louse.
He pretends to like you
Then, sleeps with your spouse.
He’ll hit you up for money
Then he’ll borrow your car.
And you lend it to him
That’s the kind of sap you are.
What is it about this guy
That makes it hard to say no?
Why does it not occur to folks
To look at him and say, “Blow!”
Buddy Buzzkill
He’s a master at telling tales
Of people he has laid
And the times he was in jail
For some ludicrous reason
That is always the fault of others.
He tell you how much you mean
And that you are like brothers
And then one morning you rise
And your stereo is gone
And so is Buddy Buzzkill
It’s time for him to move on.
Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 10:20 PM UTC
eggs of plenty eggs of white
dishes stir to open cabinets
sky of gray spewing light
smiles fill the air
check once more to affirm
there is no way it's there.
coffee steaming, air like silk.
next time you start breakfast,
make sure you have some milk.
Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 10:57 PM UTC
A primal prima nocta scream
bursts the clouds
as I spin around spin around
I fight the urge to pound my head
against the wall
as a voice calls my name
& I feel the shame from ages ago
it echoes it echoes it echoes again
friends laughing as I fall with an empty bottle in my hand
I stand down
fall up
take a bow
But how do I how do I
how
do I
fly
away from here?
How do I
how do I
how do
I fly
away
from here
without my time piece
Headlights suddenly blind me
as I’m dancin’ in the streets
Tryin’ to flee this rhythm
this rhythm
Carelessly
derelicts speak
to the pain I scream
& the beating the beating the beating of my heart
I just wish I could fall up to the stars…
Dec 11, 2011
Dec 11, 2011 at 9:23 AM UTC
For some of us it was Valentine’s,
for some of us it was the first day of lent.
So what are you going to give up?
She was sulking on the couch,
he was doing coke in my living room,
and there were strangers in my home,
I’d let them in.
I was just sipping lime and gin.
They wrecked my house,
and I let them.
I said, I’m serious
what are you going to give up?
And we went around the circle,
one by one:
I told him to
stop doing coke,
I told her to
stop dating older men.
They both said no,
they tell me to stop being a buzzkill.
The room swelled. We moved downstairs
and she was
dancing on a pole,
and he was talking business
with people I didn’t know.
And I was taking shots of ***** then
because
I wanted to feel like
a swing set.
I was swaying and
he was holding me upright
and he was
placing his jacket on my shoulders,
I have always been the coldest.
His arms cinched around my waist
and he was like a life vest.
And for a moment
I was above water,
or at least not drowning.
On the counter,
there were wilting roses and
chocolate covered strawberries.
In the mirror the word LOVE
spelled out EVOL.
There was pink on all the walls,
a bowl of candy hearts that said,
I don’t know how to be sweet
I don’t know how to be soft
He was playing with my hands
and tracing circles in my palms
and I was letting him.
I was getting drunk,
and he was begging me to
take another shot, and to
take another shot, and to
take another shot,
to break my will.
He found a way into my bed,
he asked if he could stay
and I don’t know why I let him in.
He was not special and
I was not that drunk anymore.
It was lent and I was
going to give it up,
give it all away,
give in.
It was lent and
I was going to
give up.
Mar 18, 2019
Mar 18, 2019 at 10:22 PM UTC
I'm angry
maybe furious
painfully jealous
because I can clearly see
I have been left out
time and time again
I see you all
I hear your stories
you all have fun
enjoy each other's company
drinking, dancing
but me?
I'm at home
doing nothing
pretending I didn't want to join
because I'm good
I wouldn't want to indulge a bit
I wouldn't want to be invited
of course not
what's wrong with me?
what is it that makes you all assume
that I don't want in on the fun?
I'M LONELY
Even just some company would be nice
but it would seem
I'm unwanted
I'm undesirable
I'm a buzzkill
I'm useful,
but c'mon
you know you don't want me around
will you all just say it?
because clearly something about me
sends off some sort of signal
that I ought to be left out
forgotten
do you even realize how often i'm forgotten???
P E R S I S T E N T
C O N S I S T E N T
and you know what?
I'm jealous
I'm angry
I'm upset
because EVERYONE forgets me
I'm just not memorable
I'm not fun to be around
WELL YOU KNOW WHAT
IF YOU WERE PARALYZED BY ANXIETY
IF YOU WERE CONSTANTLY DEPRESSED
IF YOU WANTED TO TEAR YOURSELF APART
IF YOU HAD PEOPLE PLAY WITH YOUR MIND
IF YOU FELT ANY MISTAKE DEMOLISHED YOUR WORTH
IF YOU WONDERED IF YOU OUGHT TO JUST DIE
you wouldn't be much fun either
but at least someone might care about you
Sep 22, 2019
Sep 22, 2019 at 11:15 PM UTC
Thinking back to the start, when we had a spark
The sort of symphony that could leave a mark
Our friendship grew into something more
A little too late I saw you were no more than a bore
You had not a clue how to keep a conversation going
At your very best you were extremely boring
Whenever I brought up an interesting topic
All I got back from you was static
Bland replies like ‘okay’ and ‘cool’
Left me feeling a typical fool
You hardly ever made me laugh
And when you did it felt all too forced
In retrospect you probably never understood me
Your eyes were open, but they didn’t really see
None of it felt natural
My affection for you became ephemeral
Ignoring the obvious I tried to make it work
Probably because of the attention I got
Buzzkill you were, you ****** out all the fun
I soon realized the spark I felt was gone
So I stopped trying…
Then came the turnaround when you told me you loved me
Some nonsense about ‘you wanted more’ you just wouldn’t let me be
It was funny at first
You were joking, or this was a test
I had lost whatever feeling I had for you
So I found it absurd to say "I love you too"
You asked me to be you girlfriend
Now I didn’t want to lose you as a friend
But I couldn't say yes either
Couldn’t imagine the thought of us together
So I started making excuses on why we wouldn't last
But your solutions solved them really fast
When I said we could just be friends
You laughed it off and told me to keep my terms
Arguments became our mainstay
Irrelevant and needless we had them all day
You accused me of stringing you along
You called me selfish, and I knew I was wrong
I knew I was being selfish, I was leading you on
I only thought I could…
Part 2 will be out soon
Jul 10, 2013
Jul 10, 2013 at 2:48 PM UTC
By Arcassin Burnham
Psychedelic Love Makin',
Grabbing energy from the stars that we promise would
Not be taken,
Kissing Everytime like we've seen each other for the first
Time in a long time but it was just awhile ago when our
Love got stronger,
Stronger than those memories,
Right here where you need me to be,
You know you could always call on me,
You Know you could always call on me,
Not a buzzkill or an enemy,
I'm simply, your necessity,
And all these things you do to me,
I'm vividly tapping out nervously,
In the air below your window where the lilies grow and gather
Up the courage to say what they have to say when they're alive,
Even just being in your company will comfort me like giving trees
In the midst of spring where the feelings collide,
You're so pretty , wheres your kidneys , drinking Bourbon like
A southerner in a graceful way when the pigs will fly and see
Better days,
Call on me and I'll be there to stop the habit and the insecurities,
Swear it will be always this way, I promise.
Nov 2, 2016
Nov 2, 2016 at 12:14 PM UTC
Sometimes I drag you down.
Can't handle it when you go out
because your freedom unintentionally mocks
my caged-in state, clanks a mug against the bars
of my prison. I didn't pick this.
Didn't pick an age that came with limitations,
but I guess I'm stuck with it
and **** you're stuck with me,
stuck with my shaky words that come from
shakier hands. Stuck with breathy phone calls
when I'm sad and don't have the heart to tell
you that no one actually has the power to fix it.
Stuck with these eyes that imitate thunderstorms when I'm being just
a tad bit melodramatic.
What do thunderstorms look like
through those kaleidoscope eyes of yours?
I bet they look like depression in a bottle,
ready to be forced down like shots of anything
that'll make me forget.
I'm beginning to understand why people
become alcoholics and that's terrifying.
You're stuck with everything I've ever been
and everything I'll ever be. Truth is I've ruined
every good time you've tried to have since you
got together with me. And I'm sorry.
I'm sorry for being a buzzkill. I'm sorry for worrying. I'm sorry for wishing I could just go with you and I'm sorry I can't.
You swear my age doesn't bother you but I'm
afraid sooner or later it might begin to.
Your age means freedom, mine means
nine o'clock curfew on school nights
and eleven o'clock ******* bedtime.
I'm an adult in a child's body. Betrayed by the number of years I've been alive.
Jul 13, 2016
Jul 13, 2016 at 9:17 PM UTC
I should be sleeping, but my heart is being squeezed by something unknown. It can't be conceived. It has to do with my girl, I couldn't live without her. I'm the clam, shes the pearl. Open the mouth and I'm prouder. I show her off to the world, cause she's such a beauty. I'm scared she will leave me cause it's not in her duty to stand by me forever and cherish my name. But I'll cherish hers forever, whether Mia or Aim. I'll never stop the love, it will keep pouring out. Out of my heart and my mind and my soul and my route is the route that leads to her state of content. Yes, take my worn shirts if you really want the scent. Take my heart while you're at it, baby it's yours. Drain all the essence from my glowing core. You are all mine and I am all yours. I won't stop caring for the one I adore. I want you to be happy and left satisfied. I want you to have fun and soon be my bride. I'm rambling now and I dont think I'll stop making poems out of love and setting you atop all things that may try and stand in our way. Have a goodnight and tomorrow, good day. I miss your head on my chest as we fell asleep. I felt your breath on my neck and you listened to the beat of my heart that constantly yearns for your presence. I'm a stupid buzzkill that is constantly jealous. So I'm lucky as **** to have someone like you. I'm not by your side, so what the **** do I do? I sit and write poems until I fall asleep. I've tried warm milk and music. I've tried counting sheep. Sure, now I'm alone in my cold empty bed. But soon I'll have the grace of my chest under your head. Please dont give my heart back, cause it's not for borrow. I love you, baby girl. I'll see you tomorrow. I'll remove the vice that's been squeezing. His name has been fright. I love you, I love you! <3 <3 <3 And with that, my love, goodnight.
Mar 11, 2019
Mar 11, 2019 at 2:19 AM UTC
Afterlife, oh my god, what an awful word.
Tired of a life of crying off all my mascara, crying off the fragile wrapping paper of my eyelids, tired of my brain wringing itself for answers in the small hours of the morning.
No, you don't care. I look to the empty spot on my bed where you'd sit, head resting on my shoulder, laptop playing The Doors Movie in front of us. Our lost laughter floats through the air and gets tangled in my ceiling fan. The spot where you told me you loved me is covered by a trash can now. You don't bat an eye at where I used to sleep on your floor, throw my backpack. My twenty page birthday card to you is no longer propped up against all the robots you built as a kid. You don't sleep with the blanket I bought you for Christmas anymore.
I can hear your voice now, calling me ***** and "buzzkill" in the smoke heavy air to your smoke heavy friends. I can feel your tongue erasing the muscle memory it needs to form my name.
I can feel my cheeks become wet again. I can feel my eyes blurring as you add me to the blocked callers list on your new phone, without a heart next to my name.
You're in a car, listening to music you hate, with your grandparents. I'm here, trying to forget what you do and don't love.
When love is gone
Where does it go?
And where do we go?
Aug 30, 2016
Aug 30, 2016 at 3:14 PM UTC
Hello.
I have depression.
Some days are really hard, and other days are a bit easier for me to control how I am feeling.
This does not mean than I will make everything sad in my life all the time and I will be a buzzkill in a friend group.
This does not mean than I think about hurting myself every moment of the day.
I have anxiety.
Some situations are harder for me to be in and it takes extra effort for me to motivate myself not to be scared of irrational things sometimes.
This does not mean that I never leave my home.
This does not mean that I have no friends because I am afraid of what people think.
I have ocd.
Mine is a form where I like things a certain way and attach feelings to things that do not matter sometimes.
This does not mean that I am a "neat freak".
This does not mean that I am a "hoarder".
I am going to counseling for these.
I enjoy talking to a professional that will be confidential about my problems.
This does not mean that I am not strong because I seeked out help.
It does not mean that I am a psychotic maniac.
I don't like taking medication for my symptoms.
I personally don't remember to take them all the time and I am in a place where I can control my feelings and thoughts moderately each day.
This does not mean that other people who take medication are worse or better than me.
This does not mean that I am not really trying to get better.
Every situation is tailored to an individual, and Everyone is fighting their own battles how they feel they can.
Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 2:27 PM UTC
She smokes **** and she gets high. It hurts me and I don’t know why. I hate when she brings the **** to her mouth, when she throws her head back and her mood goes south, and she starts coughing hard and her eyes roll back.
The brain goes dumb and the smoke starts to attack her lungs and she already has a breathing problem and sleep apnea and smoking doesn’t solve em’. Doesn’t make em’ better. Just makes em’ worse, like my stupid-ass worries in every single verse. It’s like a curse that won’t end because she won’t stop, even though it hurts me and makes my heart drop into my stomach and crush the butterflies that we’re nesting and formed colonies enshrouded in her lies about using marijuana and she knows how much it hurts. So I retaliate and stop giving her my shirts. I stop being so clingy and I see her less and less, until I’m comfortable enough telling her not to undress, because I’m not that ***** and now I just feel sad almost every single day. If not, then I’m mad. This used to be a love parade where I would jump into her arms, but now this feels unhealthy and I think I’ve lost my charm. I think I’m not okay and I think she feels the same. She’s busy with her drugs and I guess I’m busy being lame, cause I don’t participate in illegal activity, so I’m a buzzkill with an abnormal affinity for a high school teenager, which is being healthy and staying out of danger. My trust seems to be the only thing that I’ll wager. I won’t stop loving her no matter how bad the pain gets. I might just need to ignore the unending thought mess, brain ***** **** yes, rid of it, I can’t take it, I’m done with this **** and I’m done with her baking it. I’m hating it and disliking her at this rate and my mind has trouble analyzing an ongoing debate whether or not I should leave her or stay by her side. My choice is a choice that will rise the tides and turn the tables. The tides of loneliness and tables of fables that are partially true, but basically biased. Breaking up with her would cause the highest form of tension that I’ve ever known. She would fall to the dirt and I’d vacate my thrown. I couldn’t give up the only love I’ve ever known. I couldn’t leave the intimacy, the whisper, the moan. I couldn’t leave the love that she shows me when she’s around, but I could leave the pain she gives me when she’s not inbound. It’s easier to love her when she’s by my side and I can hold her close and I can tell her she’s mine. She loves that noise and so do I. I’m ending this now. I need to go cry.
May 18, 2019
May 18, 2019 at 1:31 AM UTC
time is the ultimate buzzkill
but when hungry, eat —
chop chop!
do I need to take a ray gun safety class before acquiring a ray gun?
hard to believe gravity exists…
I just realized I talk with my hands a lot.
no more weird dating ads about *** and mood disorders:
deep breathing and it will work out;
not my circus, not my monkeys.
Nov 18, 2018
Nov 18, 2018 at 1:25 AM UTC