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"cockiness" poems
Found myself at a dental clinic... He was the best there was. Unorthodox and eccentric, But to the specialised craft, he was boss. Ran through the bits and bobs Like any normally would. The poking and prodding and the mandible X-rays. Everything cold and clinical, so was the mood. Strange was what happened next... Specialist and I then stood facing each other. He leaned close and pressed his palms against my rib cage. Held them there over a few breaths before it was over. Then a brief chat, small talk initiated by the man. Bespectacled and exceedingly chatty, small in stature. Talks of politics and odd human behaviours... What started off as friendly turned into a heated banter. I then realised that along with his decorated credentials, Was his propensity to be condescending and arrogant. Him being the best, I thought I could let it all slide, But soon enough I opted out of being a willing participant. Couldn't stand his abrasive cockiness! I snapped out of being cordial and passive thought. I wanted him to just stop talking! I went, "Well, are you going to fix my teeth or not?!" He was stunned momentarily... I suppose he hadn't seen that coming. Then his features softened to a blank I could almost read the unspoken words he was conjuring. With an exasperated sigh of resignation, He uttered his next words swollen with regret "There's no need...for you only have four years left." It dawned upon me that my timer has been set. And then I woke up...
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Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 2:21 PM UTC
Strange Dream
I could never know just how dangerous being a lamb is until I fell for the lion. He could easily snap me in half, mentally, emotionally. He is all predator, cool calm and collected. All harsh lines and sharp tongue All confidence and cockiness But the way he moves, so beautifully It breaks my heart. And I am the sick ********* that can't bear to let go, I would run if I wasn't so busy being caught up in him So busy wanting to put him back together Because he wasn't always a lion, wasn't always this. He was a cub once, a smaller version of himself now Lesser and more But I will fall asleep tonight thinking of his roar And what it does to my heart Not afraid, but utterly transfixed Stupid, stupid lamb For falling in love with the lion.
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Sep 22, 2015
Sep 22, 2015 at 11:50 PM UTC
So the Lion fell in Love with the Lamb
There is a boy walking, maybe ten or eleven, a skateboard under one arm, his shirt branded with THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID. And I wonder, what did she say? Did she say she liked his tricks or his ratty sweatshirt? Did he blush, swishing his hair in response, exuding confidence and cockiness, in the mean time remembering his mother, calling out to him before he left the house. Did she say “Son, don’t forget your helmet!” Even though he was already gone— Or was she really a he, who sat him down a few months ago and said he’d be gone for awhile that he’d see him soon— it’s been six months— and maybe, when the boy heard this, he ran out. And maybe when he gets older maybe he will run out more often, to hang out with those who are deemed to be “the wrong crowd” and he will be drunk and high, stumbling under the streets, above the lights, hearing-but-not-hearing everything that she is telling him. She is telling him the secrets of the universe.
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May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 8:42 PM UTC
That's What She Said
I am a white, Jewish girl from Florida. Hit me. Hit me with your white girl jokes, Your Jewish American Princess stereotypes. I will giggle and squeal right along with you. Because yeah, I do order white chocolate mocha frappuchinos from Starbucks, I Instagram pictures of my nails, I take selfies, whiten my teeth, straighten my hair, Shop at Forever21 and drink Naked Juice like it is my job. Yeah, my daddy buys me things, I don’t pay for my data plan, There’s no way in hell I would drive a sedan, I wear Nike shorts and avoid any nearby cameraman, And let me tell you, I love jamming out to old school Britney Spears. Hit me one more time, because none of that means I am any less intelligent, Any less diligent, Any less likely to face judgment Than any other slice of diversity around me – I am a white, Jewish girl My nose is not its own cartoon, I eat bagels (but I absolutely hate lox), I’m not tan or even the least bit tinted, And god knows I don’t wear Uggs. Tell me I need to get married young, Major in business, Wear clothes that leave me airless, Get some of that European gracefulness, But don’t tell me I’m dumb. Don’t tell me I’m not thoughtful. I’m a white girl. Take a glance at my resourcefulness, Understand my goals of being ambitious, Get rid of your own stereotype-inducing cockiness, And notice me in all of my flawlessness. Because I am a white girl, And I am unique, strong, inventive, Empowered, passionate, adventurous, Indomitable, unbeatable. I am an individual – Not part of some whole that you put me in to stabilize your mold, Not the example of a societally scatterbrained ***** meant to be your centerfold,   Not a previously worn-out piece of clothing thrown to the gutter unsold, Rather a human being of my own rules and my own morals A human being with ideas and intelligence and power, A white, Jewish girl, A person.
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Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 5:31 PM UTC
White Girl
I am a white, Jewish girl from Florida. Hit me. Hit me with your white girl jokes, Your Jewish American Princess stereotypes. I will giggle and squeal right along with you. Because yeah, I do order white chocolate mocha frappuchinos from Starbucks, I Instagram pictures of my nails, I take selfies, whiten my teeth, straighten my hair, Shop at Forever21 and drink Naked Juice like it is my job. Yeah, my daddy buys me things, I don’t pay for my data plan, There’s no way in hell I would drive a sedan, I wear Nike shorts and avoid any nearby cameraman, And let me tell you, I love jamming out to old school Britney Spears. Hit me one more time, because none of that means I am any less intelligent, Any less diligent, Any less likely to face judgment Than any other slice of diversity around me – I am a white, Jewish girl My nose is not its own cartoon, I eat bagels (but I absolutely hate lox), I’m not tan or even the least bit tinted, And god knows I don’t wear Uggs. Tell me I need to get married young, Major in business, Wear clothes that leave me airless, Get some of that European gracefulness, But don’t tell me I’m dumb. Don’t tell me I’m not thoughtful. I’m a white girl. Take a glance at my resourcefulness, Understand my goals of being ambitious, Get rid of your own stereotype-inducing cockiness, And notice me in all of my flawlessness. Because I am a white girl, And I am unique, strong, inventive, Empowered, passionate, adventurous, Indomitable, unbeatable. I am an individual – Not part of some whole that you put me in to stabilize your mold, Not the example of a societally scatterbrained ***** meant to be your centerfold,   Not a previously worn-out piece of clothing thrown to the gutter unsold, Rather a human being of my own rules and my own morals A human being with ideas and intelligence and power, A white, Jewish girl, A person.
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47
There was this fellow, who seemed very mellow, Yet when one asked me to write a poem about one self; He spoke very highly of himself; Cockiness; not at all he was a charming fellow, Who was always there when ones friend would fail; Showing her she could prevail Laughter filled his heart and thoughts filled his mind Most people would say he’s undefined I’d like to say he’s one of a kind A friend, a brother, a charmer Yet does he ever look deep within Or does one just pretend? Always there for someone in need But what about one’s self needs Shall I assume since you’re consider a charmer That you have plastic armor Pretend to be strong and bold When there’s a deep secret you hold? The charmer in one’s soul Blocks the secret he holds Never look too deep Might cause you to lose sleep Remember a charmer has a spell And never yells Goes on in life Yet can cut you like a knife Leaving a scar on your soul One may be blind and flatter you
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Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 12:22 AM UTC
The Most Charming Man (unfinished)
Prologue: **He wrote her a poem With the weight of a love letter Her wrote her one hundred more Just to know she was truth** I want to budget my words To strangle the syllables To pin down the point To lock into you so now I am Sisyphus ready my hands on the boulder so steady the blood from the dig in my shoulder I lock my eyes on the sun to find a find a place on the grip but would take the weight of the world for a taste of your lip **** it I’m **ready to serve only you** **so how do I coldly crack ribs in a caged heart of strife? without stealing the lungs of the one who breathes life?** I meet you often in my late hours morose meditating on mad dreams Your cockiness verbose just give me the word I’ll do as you please you can file your nails as my tongue splits your knees (Bukowski) Banging (hard on skeleton keys) a sentence assassin killing paragraphs (open essays diminished) as the typewriter talks till it laughs (in tatters+finished) screaming ”take me through door after door!!!” Always seeking the right words, From love’s lexiconic relief, the sentence that shatters, so don’t run on the dream it’s punctuation that matters **the period that finally bores into you**.
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Aug 4, 2018
Aug 4, 2018 at 2:41 AM UTC
Sisyphus at the Ready
****** Bag in sunglasses donned indoors where fluorescent sunlight cannot justify the obfuscation of haughty eyes so the visage is one of pure pretension and cockiness, dichotomized as self-assuredness and the colloquial term for the phallus, a literal **** (I see him strongly in the memory of a high school field trip returning home school bus late night he sits sideways back to the window head leaning back sunglasses donned smug grin I rendered him the vessel and the scape goat bearing my burning hatred for the inflated ego wrapped in an undesirable chic I deem deplorable, hate hate hate) Smug grin, I wrote this poem from a bean bag in the corner of the library third floor whilst wearing sunglasses and a taste of irony on callous lips twisted in an invisible sneer.
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Oct 17, 2016
Oct 17, 2016 at 7:50 PM UTC
A Taste of Irony
*plastic tables and chairs pinks blues yellows* leftovers lie on the table paper plates stained with chocolate syrup beside the foam fossil of a milkshake brown fingertips and corners of lips dinosaurs and tiaras table napkins wipe away giggles and smiles *wooden table little words etched in hearts, crosses and names jagged lines through the middle random doodles curse words* stained with grease, an empty pizza box soda bottles all over the sticky floor a single can of beer, empty touching a hundred lips curious little sips awkward conversations, air thick with secrets and lies confidence and cockiness *clean white table cloths long-stemmed flowers crystal wine glasses silverware* no one quite fits into these knees always banging and cutlery always clanging no one quite fits into these
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Sep 14, 2011
Sep 14, 2011 at 10:03 PM UTC
four legs
for every fragile memory i visit time is wasted and i am foolish enough to let it happen repeatedly because i am convinced that we had a moment in between sarcasm and cockiness you let me see through your disguise though you did not and then you left me craving for more ache for attention i was not entitled to (k.w)
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Aug 23, 2013
Aug 23, 2013 at 7:37 PM UTC
implicit
You've taken a step into dangerous territory Unbeknownst to your wide, naïve eyes You're heading into a deep abyss Where only the lucky have survived Before you proceed any further I will give you this warning now I'm utterly and dangerously fragile And my patience is running out My warning signs are on full display For those who dare on this journey Caution is written everywhere So that I know you won't take this lightly I see the longing looks you're giving And I can tell you see me as a challenge Your cockiness will lead to your missteps A guarantee I experience irrevocable damage You think you will treat me different But I know you'll ignore the signs I carry There's no easy way to let my guard down When your intentions with me make me wary You continue to walk into dangerous territory Unbeknownst to your wide, naïve eyes Foolishly, you jumped into the deep abyss But you were not lucky enough to survive
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May 18, 2021
May 18, 2021 at 1:49 PM UTC
Caution
He’s not how I remembered him All charming, tall and handsome He’s podgy, dull and boring His cockiness has left him I nearly started snoring When he told a story He’s also going baldy He’s lost his crowning glory. I’m not saying he’s not charming He’s sort of…in a way But not the man I dreamt of He’s definitely away! He’s jaded, tired and bitter There was no spark or flutter He asked me if we’d meet again? “Not sure?” I think I muttered.
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Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 4:44 PM UTC
Dreamboat!
I’m so nice, I’m so nice Poppin’ ‘bout life and poverty Saluting freedom, then liberty Barbering ‘bout broken homes Police brutality and fake politics Then, puttin’ one shoe, upon a petal stool Next day, breakin’ da number one rule Shakin’ da jewellery, just like a toff Makin’ the op-po-sit-ion, just take it off I’m killing them, I’m killing them Soap operas, sports 24/7, real life reality What has dat done, to da young ones mentality Expect da government, to pay for their new home Pupils wide open, but grammatically **** Blaming Putin, instead of Democrats cockiness While Trump and Republicans, are gettin’ on with business Wake up USA, land of da free, but nothin’ without a fee Be yourself, respect your elders, dats wat ya wanna be
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Feb 27, 2020
Feb 27, 2020 at 4:52 AM UTC
Liberty
Beautiful, gentle, feminine grace Her essence redolent of future nostalgic days Supplement for the eyes Taste of sweet hope drive away consternation Fragile, lithe confidence Feline cockiness unblemished control So bold and self-assured Insecurities tucked so deep She walks with the air of superior knowledge And she has it She knows things we wished Intelligent in all her undertaking As simple as they are. likeness to the purest Shes a magnificent creature There is strength in her confidence. Then there are the others similar species The ones who lack Beastly Trod like a giant Callous to the touch Gauche by comparisson Constant yearning To be so sure of themselves Constantly seeking others approval Watching her Studying her. Long hours of staring And inhaling her Pretending to be her. Failing Its innate But only in women like her "We are not all meant to be the same" They are fed "It would be boring" She's manufactured by society To endure society Survival of the fittest She will survive. Don't we all deserve to survive? Some say its science down to the atom Invariably convinced that they are not members of the "protected" feminine gender But definitely not welcomed to the esteemed masculine gender. Born in the right body Trapped in the wrong mind.
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Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 11:37 AM UTC
Femme Fatale...Not Really
Young child with your doughnut smile, Your cockiness and native guile, Here's some stuff with an 'S' to look out for A smallish list to even the score, In what you'll know is an unfair life: Sufficient knowledge of Machiavellian strife, Scissored words to cut the crap, String and sticks to lay your traps, Shell to listen to when adults blare, Stone to polish whilst they glare, Sleekly concealed hiding places, Several artless piteous faces, Sack to carry your thievings well, Starched hankie for its awesome smell, Salve to nurse your nascent pride, Style enough to say "I lied", Sharp pin in shoe-toe to kick any creeps, Soles of rubber for super-huge leaps, Some allies of similarly toughened mien, Strong butter-toffees to keep the allies keen, Stories of your devious plans to pass the time... Since i'm tired now of trying to rhyme This is where i leave you, small human being Find the **** things and smash the adult fiends, And when you're done, just wait for me Next time we'll look at things with a 'T'.
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May 26, 2012
May 26, 2012 at 7:02 AM UTC
'S' for the Kids
I walked down the street, Two A.M in the morning, Knocked on his door three times, His face popped into view. His eyes concerned,  And he opened his mouth, But I raised my hand, And stopped him. "Look, I know you don't want me here, You probably don't feel the same way. But hear me out And listen to my say." "I sure have been in love with you, For a really long time. But our friendship has been a little rocky, And I did not want not ruin it  Any more. I also wish That these feelings would go away, So I waited. By they didn't. We only grew further apart. I was relived when you came back. But I knew you didn't feel the same way, And I was put in misery again. I have tried my best for you, I have stuck up for you, I dreamt about you, I did everything I could for you. But you stuck with being the bad boy, Dating the bad girls, Those impressions that the town has, Isn't really you. I know I am one of the few people, Who can see through your ego. You really are a genuine guy, You are so so nice. You treat people the way  They should be treated. You want to protect The ones you love. I have fallen for your humor, I have fallen for your kindness, I have fallen for your generosity, I have fallen for your cockiness. But sometimes I wish  I was that girl, Who had all your attention; All your love. So, I know this might ruin Our beautiful friendship, But I want you to know that I Love you; And I always will. I want you to know,  That I wish you were the one I called early in the morning, Just to say hi. The one I called in the middle of the night, Because I was in danger. The one I hugged everyday, Because I just loved you that much. The one who would come up to me At a godly hour, Just to say you couldn't lose me. But now, I'm the one, Who is coming up to you, At a godly hour Saying I can't lose you. You might not deserve a girl like me, I'm just vulnerable. But I try to get your attention, Because I really need you. I can sense your presence, From a mile away. And God ****** You are really **** So here I am, At your doorstep, Asking for one thing only, Yet it means so much. So, please, I know it's asking too much, But will you be the one I call early in the morning?  Will you be my 2 A.M?"
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Dec 25, 2014
Dec 25, 2014 at 10:49 AM UTC
2 A.M
I walked down the street, Two A.M in the morning, Knocked on his door three times, His face popped into view. His eyes concerned,  And he opened his mouth, But I raised my hand, And stopped him. "Look, I know you don't want me here, You probably don't feel the same way. But hear me out And listen to my say." "I sure have been in love with you, For a really long time. But our friendship has been a little rocky, And I did not want not ruin it  Any more. I also wish That these feelings would go away, So I waited. By they didn't. We only grew further apart. I was relived when you came back. But I knew you didn't feel the same way, And I was put in misery again. I have tried my best for you, I have stuck up for you, I dreamt about you, I did everything I could for you. But you stuck with being the bad boy, Dating the bad girls, Those impressions that the town has, Isn't really you. I know I am one of the few people, Who can see through your ego. You really are a genuine guy, You are so so nice. You treat people the way  They should be treated. You want to protect The ones you love. I have fallen for your humor, I have fallen for your kindness, I have fallen for your generosity, I have fallen for your cockiness. But sometimes I wish  I was that girl, Who had all your attention; All your love. So, I know this might ruin Our beautiful friendship, But I want you to know that I Love you; And I always will. I want you to know,  That I wish you were the one I called early in the morning, Just to say hi. The one I called in the middle of the night, Because I was in danger. The one I hugged everyday, Because I just loved you that much. The one who would come up to me At a godly hour, Just to say you couldn't lose me. But now, I'm the one, Who is coming up to you, At a godly hour Saying I can't lose you. You might not deserve a girl like me, I'm just vulnerable. But I try to get your attention, Because I really need you. I can sense your presence, From a mile away. And God ****** You are really **** So here I am, At your doorstep, Asking for one thing only, Yet it means so much. So, please, I know it's asking too much, But will you be the one I call early in the morning?  Will you be my 2 A.M?"
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82
I miss you. The words cut thin, into what is merely the tip of this iceberg of hurt. I stare blankly at the message box, agonising over the three words... untyped, and as yet, unsaid. They are so much truer than the ones already handing there, on the internets metaphorical hook: clique, calculated, unneeded and without emotional depth. "Hey, how are you?" The words are practically part of the set of desperate messages I have wanted to send you, which would surely have rendered me wholly unattractive to you. You make me feel as desirable as poo. No replies, mixed with affectionate goodbyes, the sighs you make are surely lies, when you say that you want to see me. I'm feeling used, my good nature abused of it's inability to feel suspicion over your rendition of first loves broad script. Yet I leave my sense behind your lips which are locked with the key of my obligingness. My wish to try to humanise your cockiness. I sometimes wish you'd pay more attention to the descent of me into madness. This bewitching and beguiling madness, so unlike the alternative. The madness in the way you bridge the gap between us, an enthusiastic run of fun, and longing for me. The madness in the way you seem to see me. A sensual creature of beauty, perhaps my blindness was from the serenity I seemed grasp from your gaze. You don't see me, but I'd be lying if I didn't wish for that to be what I am to thee.   You leave me walking around in a daze. I don't know whether that's a good or a bad thing, but I know that all you have to do is ring and I'm there, I swear I am despicable as I seem. Because, honestly, I still don't dare dream that you may wish for this, something other than my 'heatmaking' kiss. I hope I can be brave enough to miss you. But I don't think I can be just yet, I'm not exactly playing hard to get.   enter
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Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 8:08 PM UTC
Shallow Messaging
I miss you. The words cut thin, into what is merely the tip of this iceberg of hurt. I stare blankly at the message box, agonising over the three words... untyped, and as yet, unsaid. They are so much truer than the ones already handing there, on the internets metaphorical hook: clique, calculated, unneeded and without emotional depth. "Hey, how are you?" The words are practically part of the set of desperate messages I have wanted to send you, which would surely have rendered me wholly unattractive to you. You make me feel as desirable as poo. No replies, mixed with affectionate goodbyes, the sighs you make are surely lies, when you say that you want to see me. I'm feeling used, my good nature abused of it's inability to feel suspicion over your rendition of first loves broad script. Yet I leave my sense behind your lips which are locked with the key of my obligingness. My wish to try to humanise your cockiness. I sometimes wish you'd pay more attention to the descent of me into madness. This bewitching and beguiling madness, so unlike the alternative. The madness in the way you bridge the gap between us, an enthusiastic run of fun, and longing for me. The madness in the way you seem to see me. A sensual creature of beauty, perhaps my blindness was from the serenity I seemed grasp from your gaze. You don't see me, but I'd be lying if I didn't wish for that to be what I am to thee.   You leave me walking around in a daze. I don't know whether that's a good or a bad thing, but I know that all you have to do is ring and I'm there, I swear I am despicable as I seem. Because, honestly, I still don't dare dream that you may wish for this, something other than my 'heatmaking' kiss. I hope I can be brave enough to miss you. But I don't think I can be just yet, I'm not exactly playing hard to get.   enter
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64
He always envied but he always told me : Harsh truths are facts You shouldnt go but you can always look back I cant tell you hurtin' , dont you know you deserve better than that ? I can see you cry when you laugh **** What is bothering you so bad ? You walk with confidence More like cockiness Your charm is elegant But you're so belligerent You get so insecure when it comes to commitment You say you ready but you end up slippin' You dont wanna be tied down so you start trippin' Damn.. I really wish things were different ...
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Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 11:03 PM UTC
his words.
My mouth opens but nothing comes out.... I am not sure why but I am unable to speak now. Instead the willful arrogant one shows you her face ~ the one you call 'petulant'. You do not understand how much pain there is inside of this body, how could you, when the parts who hold the pain are no longer allowed to speak to you. Instead the ill-tempered one talks; you find her to be 'annoying' and peevish, in fact, it seems as though she feels the need to be on defense all the time. She is contemptuous in her behavior shielding any feelings of vulnerability from you with her supercilious speech. She stands behind the wall that has been rebuilt between you and her and the wall is made of brick, the mortar solid and unforgiving. If you could see behind the icy blue of her eyes as they tell you confidently that she is doing well…if you could see behind her, you would be able to see that all is not okay. You would be able to see that she is not a petulant child, but rather a frightened girl, teenager, woman. You would be able to see that the arrogance and cockiness of her speech and stance, her willfulness…is a defense tactic. If you could see behind the brick wall you would see that she feels like she has tumbled backwards and she has lost her voice. BEHIND THE WALL: *She is not defensive...she is scared. She is not petulant...she is guarded. She is not confident...she is uncertain.* If you could see behind the wall, you could see that she waited years for someone to come into her life and tell her that it was okay to tear down that wall. Behind the wall she chokes back tears of sadness and shakes in fear. Behind the wall she hides in dark corner...afraid she has now become one more casualty in this ****** war as she struggles to once again find her voice.
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Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 2:59 PM UTC
Silent all these years...
My mouth opens but nothing comes out.... I am not sure why but I am unable to speak now. Instead the willful arrogant one shows you her face ~ the one you call 'petulant'. You do not understand how much pain there is inside of this body, how could you, when the parts who hold the pain are no longer allowed to speak to you. Instead the ill-tempered one talks; you find her to be 'annoying' and peevish, in fact, it seems as though she feels the need to be on defense all the time. She is contemptuous in her behavior shielding any feelings of vulnerability from you with her supercilious speech. She stands behind the wall that has been rebuilt between you and her and the wall is made of brick, the mortar solid and unforgiving. If you could see behind the icy blue of her eyes as they tell you confidently that she is doing well…if you could see behind her, you would be able to see that all is not okay. You would be able to see that she is not a petulant child, but rather a frightened girl, teenager, woman. You would be able to see that the arrogance and cockiness of her speech and stance, her willfulness…is a defense tactic. If you could see behind the brick wall you would see that she feels like she has tumbled backwards and she has lost her voice. BEHIND THE WALL: *She is not defensive...she is scared. She is not petulant...she is guarded. She is not confident...she is uncertain.* If you could see behind the wall, you could see that she waited years for someone to come into her life and tell her that it was okay to tear down that wall. Behind the wall she chokes back tears of sadness and shakes in fear. Behind the wall she hides in dark corner...afraid she has now become one more casualty in this ****** war as she struggles to once again find her voice.
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9
Dang, it feels like you all want me to lose, I thought you’d be relieved, to know that I emerged victorious from the abuse, it’s as if just surviving wasn’t enough, but I also have to be humbled even more, is having guns in your face and being beaten to a pulp, not enough I need to be humiliated some more, but that’s okay, because sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me, and I’ve been through a lot worse than some words, so your opinions written in literary form will never hurt me, don’t confuse my confidence with cockiness, because if you do then it’s you that’s confused, I should be celebrated not player hated, it wasn’t easy and still isn’t easy getting through the abuse, but many claim it’s ego, like I should stay depressed just because I’ve been depressed, as if I should lay over and give up, as if I should curse everything for which I’ve been blessed, what is it that disgusts you so much about success? You don’t know what I’ve been through, don’t confuse my being resilient as me being a Narcissist, honestly I am more humble than you might think, plus I know any moment I could go off into eternity, nothing is permanent, especially not the moment we are in currently, so please stop throwing stones at my head, because of some pre-conceived notions you red, of some words that I said, that were the result of some cuts that were bled, I mean seriously what do you want me to do, would you rather I just die in defeat than live in my truth, would you rather I allow myself to be pushed of the edge, than find a way to persevere and pull though? See I’m as depressed as you I hurt too, but the difference is I don’t want you to lose, I want you to be victorious and write yourself into the light, because Love over Hate is what I every time choose to choose, Dang, it feels like you all want me to lose, I thought you’d be relieved, to know that I emerged victorious from the abuse… ∆ LaLux ∆
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Sep 22, 2018
Sep 22, 2018 at 2:06 AM UTC
Sticks & Stones (Victorious)
Dang, it feels like you all want me to lose, I thought you’d be relieved, to know that I emerged victorious from the abuse, it’s as if just surviving wasn’t enough, but I also have to be humbled even more, is having guns in your face and being beaten to a pulp, not enough I need to be humiliated some more, but that’s okay, because sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me, and I’ve been through a lot worse than some words, so your opinions written in literary form will never hurt me, don’t confuse my confidence with cockiness, because if you do then it’s you that’s confused, I should be celebrated not player hated, it wasn’t easy and still isn’t easy getting through the abuse, but many claim it’s ego, like I should stay depressed just because I’ve been depressed, as if I should lay over and give up, as if I should curse everything for which I’ve been blessed, what is it that disgusts you so much about success? You don’t know what I’ve been through, don’t confuse my being resilient as me being a Narcissist, honestly I am more humble than you might think, plus I know any moment I could go off into eternity, nothing is permanent, especially not the moment we are in currently, so please stop throwing stones at my head, because of some pre-conceived notions you red, of some words that I said, that were the result of some cuts that were bled, I mean seriously what do you want me to do, would you rather I just die in defeat than live in my truth, would you rather I allow myself to be pushed of the edge, than find a way to persevere and pull though? See I’m as depressed as you I hurt too, but the difference is I don’t want you to lose, I want you to be victorious and write yourself into the light, because Love over Hate is what I every time choose to choose, Dang, it feels like you all want me to lose, I thought you’d be relieved, to know that I emerged victorious from the abuse… ∆ LaLux ∆
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45
A simple room of solemn faces She comes around, she leaves her traces Of smiles and laughter, fascinations A cockiness, distinctly hers, Somehow so naturally occurs This trait is to all clear It tends to often reappear Ironically it goes so far as to endear She speaks and her speech captivates She dances, and with a twirl she is carefree This mesmerizing energy that anyone can see Radiates around her in a blissful glee She can be demanding, when she sets out her orders Confident and strong, without concern for borders Like a dictator, not a bit demure Yet even this, has a unique allure Inspiring, a pain Beautiful, but surely not as twain Loved in spite, and with her flaws too Because she is a mother, but mostly… Because she’s you
0
Nov 19, 2011
Nov 19, 2011 at 7:13 AM UTC
Mom
You're pathetic, I'm sick of you; Always criticizing me for the things I do. You tell me to take a joke, even though you never can; You're always trying to be the better man. You don't care who gets upset, you just wanna be right, Always looking to pick out a fight. You don't care who's feelings are hurt, you just wanna look tough; Why don't you just flat out tell me that I'm not good enough? You always say you're joking when you bruise my ego, But it's just like you're driving a deadly torpedo. When I make a joke, you get all mad; Don't you think you're being hypocritical, just a tad? You act like you're so much better than everyone, But when someone points out your flaws, you turn and run. I don't know why you're so cocky and rude, Or why you give me such a terrible attitude. I point out one thing, and it was a mistake, Now you leave a terrible path in your wake. Saying that I act like a queen, that I act superior, When really you're the one who makes people feel inferior. You're the one who thinks he runs the show, Will fight to the death to prove his points by hitting you blow after blow. Maybe you should take a look around you, Try to find out what everyone else already knew. You and your little bunch of friends act like they know everything, And really don't care what pain they bring. Maybe you just need a reality check, It could be just what you need to stop you from being a fatuous wreck. Life isn't all about demeaning people and tearing them down, It's not about hurting someone or making them frown. Maybe take a bit of advice, you're not as perfect as you think you are; Because your words, they can leave a fairly large scar. Your cockiness is just too much these days, So I'm done with you until you change your ways. Hypocritical and ill-mannered, I'll never really know How a person could allow themselves to sink so incredibly low.
0
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 3:32 AM UTC
Egotistical
You're pathetic, I'm sick of you; Always criticizing me for the things I do. You tell me to take a joke, even though you never can; You're always trying to be the better man. You don't care who gets upset, you just wanna be right, Always looking to pick out a fight. You don't care who's feelings are hurt, you just wanna look tough; Why don't you just flat out tell me that I'm not good enough? You always say you're joking when you bruise my ego, But it's just like you're driving a deadly torpedo. When I make a joke, you get all mad; Don't you think you're being hypocritical, just a tad? You act like you're so much better than everyone, But when someone points out your flaws, you turn and run. I don't know why you're so cocky and rude, Or why you give me such a terrible attitude. I point out one thing, and it was a mistake, Now you leave a terrible path in your wake. Saying that I act like a queen, that I act superior, When really you're the one who makes people feel inferior. You're the one who thinks he runs the show, Will fight to the death to prove his points by hitting you blow after blow. Maybe you should take a look around you, Try to find out what everyone else already knew. You and your little bunch of friends act like they know everything, And really don't care what pain they bring. Maybe you just need a reality check, It could be just what you need to stop you from being a fatuous wreck. Life isn't all about demeaning people and tearing them down, It's not about hurting someone or making them frown. Maybe take a bit of advice, you're not as perfect as you think you are; Because your words, they can leave a fairly large scar. Your cockiness is just too much these days, So I'm done with you until you change your ways. Hypocritical and ill-mannered, I'll never really know How a person could allow themselves to sink so incredibly low.
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36
How can you love With hate in your heart, Anger in your head, Disappointment in your eyes? How can you love With never feeling love itself, Never understanding the concept, Never touching it? How can you love Someone who doesn't love you back, Someone who loves too much, Someone just like you ? How can anyone love your Cockiness, Inability to care, Desire to be in control? How can you love Without loving yourself ?
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Aug 30, 2014
Aug 30, 2014 at 7:23 PM UTC
How Can You Love ?
What if I never Come to terms with Your Cockiness? In another life we Could be friends But you prefer to play poker Instead of doing the math Prefer to play games Instead of making amends The story of how We first met Goes a little like this; I was looking forward To this particular Class Until I saw you Walk in-- I was caught off guard And on a whim I refused to push away The first thought Which came to my head, And it was that Your haircut made me Want to punch you In the face. Love, mostly hate. Things would be much Easier If your brain was In the right place It is much too low For my taste Stop trying to impress me, Don't test me I only have one face So to thine own self Be true And perhaps I'll actually Like the things you do-- You're quite the hunk After all Though you're not Quite as tall as I previously thought You shrank with Impertinence The gossip fits you Like a glove What are you so afraid of? Did I scare you When I said "No"?
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Dec 26, 2016
Dec 26, 2016 at 1:24 AM UTC
The Coward
You love me, I lie to you saying, what you wanna hear uttering, I love you to deceiving, the ear. With words, far from what's true oblivious, to the real colours, of me not seeing, what's in plain view that i'm the lock, and your the key. To the door, leading, to my every need I'm beating you, at your own game off of pure revenge, I feed at your cockiness, I aim. I used you, my perfect scam filled your mind, with delusion blinded you, of who I really am a beautiful, illusion.
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Dec 11, 2013
Dec 11, 2013 at 1:10 PM UTC
A Beautiful Illusion