"cringed" poems
He made sure I knew just how lucky I was to have him
But he never hit me
He played games with my emotions repeatedly
But he never hit me
He made sure I didn’t leave the house in a skirt above the knees
But he never hit me
He knew the words to say to make me feel so small that I could not breathe
But he never hit me
He tossed me in and out, in and out, until my mind was in an out of control tizzy
But he never hit me
He messed around on the side late at night while I rested in our bed
But he never hit me
He made it clear that I wasn’t to go out at night with the girls
But he never hit me
He told me over and over again just how hard it would be to find anyone else to deal with me
But he never hit me
He fell asleep safe and sound as I laid in bed trying to catch my breath through tears
But he never hit me
He needed to have the password to every device, app and account
But he never hit me
He knew the power he held and used it over my head to weaken me
But he never hit me
He made jokes at my expense in front of friends and family and we all giggled together instead of cringed
But he never hit me
He assured me the women he texted were coworkers or colleagues but I could never know what they spoke of
But he never hit me
He made it clear that my interests and goals were not of pertinence
But he never hit me
He knew the exact words to say to take my entire day downhill
But he never hit me
He broke my heart over and over and over again until it was minuscule shreds
But he never hit me
Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 8:06 PM UTC
The snowman to the scarecrow, “Hahahaha you’re just a stick figure…. and your hair’s straw.”
The scarecrow to the snowman, “Watch who you talk about whenever you open your mouth, for all the coldness in your words will still melt to the ground along with you as soon as the sun comes out.”
Owned!
“You’re such a chump…” the snowman said… “…two words for your ancestry, tree stump.” the snowman said
“You’re fat… you have a carrot for a nose, and what’s up with that stupid green and red coloured hat?” said the scarecrow
Well played
“I work all year round… you’re here for a season, did you really think you could hold your ground against someone that is here for a reason?” the scarecrow added
The snowman cringed, but then had a comeback
“At least I don’t wear the same filthy clothes every day of the year… what? Are you trying to bring ‘brown’ back?”
Point for Snowman
“It’s better than being fat and going naked.” Scarecrow brought it back
Scarecrow is consistently winning right? I know… I know man!
If he made you a fan, stick around for an autograph… I will throw in mine too
For more on the war of words between these two
Watch this space for round two.
Jan 18, 2013
Jan 18, 2013 at 4:36 AM UTC
He watched as she fell
He watched as he did what he had to
He watched as she hit the ground
He listened
There was no sound
He watched as their world split
He cringed at the spectacle
Unfolding before his eyes
He listened
There were no cries
He felt the shockwave
As her reality exploded
He marveled at the colors the wound
He listened
And then it boomed
Violent
Force
Wreckage
Shrapnel
Fallout
Screams
Weeping
Unrestrained
Anguish
Betrayal
Hatred
But hold on child
This is not the end
This is just a pothole
On the Warpath of Love
So look to the Bittersweet Bystander
His hand extended now
Take the help he offers
You need it to continue
Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 10:13 PM UTC
Sacagawea's Capture
As I strolled the Knife River trail
a dust cloud swirled and fell
and earth lodges appeared by the score
extending from the path to the river banks.
Hidatsa women sang at their chores,
husking corn -
beading moccasins -
scraping a buffalo hide.
A band of hunters dismounted
and released their ropes -
dropping two deer and an elk
by the hanging rack.
Triumphal shouts from the river
turned all heads to the shore
where warriors, returned
from Shoshone fields,
lashed up canoes and dragged
their human spoils up the rise.
Several squaws reached out
from the gathering crowd
seizing two of the squirming children.
A Shoshone girl with terror in her eyes
cringed as a warrior raised his arm.
"No, tell your Hidatsa name!"
Sobbing she choked through broken tears,
"My name is Sacagawea."
I bolted to breach the walls of time
to face death in her defense
but a new whirling cloud intervened.
When the dust fell away
all the lodges had vanished
with all the Hidatsa villagers.
Kneeling down to the Dakota grass,
I caressed a circular hollow
etched deeply in the silent earth.
August 6, 2010
Aug 3, 2013
Aug 3, 2013 at 5:28 AM UTC
Tell me, please,
what makes you think I’m not capable
of loving you.
What makes you think that I’ve
never fallen in love with boys who
had nightmares so horrible that they wouldn’t sleep
for days upon days and boys who hallucinated
six crows always circling above my eyes.
Let’s not forget the boy who cringed
and cried when I touched him,
because of where his father’s hands wandered when
he was only five years old.
Tell me, please,
why I don’t know how to love people
who are easy to love,
or why you think that you are some
drastic case of sorrow, survivor’s guilt,
and enough anxiety and depression to bury the world -
you are not. I’ve loved people
who had laid themselves in
deeper graves than you.
Believe me, there is enough scar tissue around my heart
to handle loving every single
part of you.
Darling,
you are not exempt from love.
Jul 6, 2013
Jul 6, 2013 at 8:22 PM UTC
She fell and broke her hip
Though that’s not what killed her
No, she fought long and hard to keep her sanity
A matriarch, the last matriarch
She never stood a chance
Through bouts of forgetfulness
She cringed as she sat
Wheelchair bound
Rolling with a fool’s smile
Talking nonsense like Nero must have
Playing his fiddle
Our family burned up but she never knew
Jan 18, 2012
Jan 18, 2012 at 11:27 PM UTC
I forgot your name, in the
process of trying to remember.
It danced and spun on the tip of my tongue, then
fell to the floor, shattering into fragments of blue,
guilt stained glass. You, with
wide eyes and a firm frown, watched and cringed
at the sight of this, and I was left attempting
to remember the name of the girl of my dreams while
she stormed out of my life in those pretty six inch
heels. It wasn’t until you were gone that I remembered
everything, except how to forget you.
Mar 30, 2014
Mar 30, 2014 at 4:30 PM UTC
Have you ever done something
and then could not believe
it could possibly have been you?
Have you ever said something
and then cringed when you heard it
exiting your mouth?
That would be me, sometimes . . .
Or, while mentally calculating
your accumulating grocery bill,
have you run into a friend
only to completely lose count?
I have stood in front of the door to my home
trying to lock or unlock the door
using the keyless entry fob from my car.
I have done this --- more than once.
I have, months after getting rid of that car,
searched for its keyless entry fob
on my keychain.
I have spent hours and days
searching for glasses on my head,
for keys that I was holding,
for the purse on my shoulder,
and have managed to miss them completely.
I have called information for a number,
written it down,
and then had to call them back
because I misplaced the number before I could redial the phone.
I have neglected friends and family,
duties and responsibilities,
not from lack of love
or sound intention,
but merely by allowing myself to be distracted.
If I had followed up
on what I knew at seventeen
whales, sharks, mankind ---
might already be saved.
Who knows what my focused mind might have accomplished?
But instead
I put myself to sleep
because the real world
was far too much to bear,
and living in books and dreams
so very much safer
than all the dysfunction awaiting outside.
I met my soulmate at twenty
and then left him behind
marrying one man,
and then another,
who never got me -
instead of the one and only man who truly did.
There's a reason that God protects children and Fools.
There's a purity of heart,
an innocence of spirit,
and . . . occasional lapses in intellect.
So, for all of the lessons I've learned and I've lost,
There are worse things than being a Fool.
Which I remind myself again
as I accidentally call my own cell phone
and then hang up my land line to answer the call.
In parting, I offer what I finally learned, which is
This above all:
To thine own Fool be true.
Cori MacNaughton
6Apr2005
Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 12:54 AM UTC
superman paid me a visit today
flying through the west window
cape
tights
and all
hang on
he ordered
i did for dear life
my cheek lay cold against a metal-based body
steel and iron perfect as
ever was moulded by natures hand
still i cringed and blushed
i could not touch him so that he would feel
mechanical savior
put me down at the next corner
Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 1:13 AM UTC
Staring at yourself
forgetting the clock went round.
standing, staring
dead faced with those lost eyes.
cringed soul.
mascara dripping down your lower lashes like streams of black ink.
leaning up against the sink.
when a girl cries its calligraphy.
her tears spell out the sadness bleeding out of her soul.
nobody cries with emptiness.
you're a rotting corpse
maggot infesting.
its emotional ******
an empty skeletal.
dismembered.
discarded.
when nothing pains anymore.
nothing gives meaning anymore.
the mind wanders.
walking along a tight rope of death with the thoughts of losing balance.
sleeping but never waking sounds like joy to you.
life is still yet present.
you're still here.
stuck.
alone.
motivation ceases existence.
you want to *****
sun rays piercing through the window feel like needles jabbing your eyes.
signs of optimism eat the insides of the soul like a disease.
that same routine.
tired of how pathetic it feels
that shattered slab of glass gets exhausted of that repetitive view.
the view of you.
you just want to be them.
the people outside your window.
the ones with the smiles.
the ones that have everything.
but when you can't even be happy with yourself.
how do you expect to be happy with
anything at all.
You can't.
Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 2:37 PM UTC
i truly disgust myself
you love me more than i deserve
i left your *** for a pretty boy who promised to marry me and take care of me from the moment we met
and you begged for me back
your lips touched mine only hours after he kissed me goodbye
and i still cringed when ours finally met
you can guilt me into anything
i couldn't leave you bleeding on the pavement
tears cascading down your face
I never knew you cared so much
i told you this and it just made you cry harder
but still i long for lust
i used to feel so much passion towards you
if you left me, i surely would have taken my own life
but now, numbness tingles dully through my body
i go through the motions in the hope that you wont notice
i no longer feel the way that made life worth living
i miss knowing that there is nobody better than you
now i spend every day debating whether i should stay
something doesn't feel right
but you love me far too much
and i know you'll take good care of me
so long as you neglect that i truly am disgusting
Sep 27, 2013
Sep 27, 2013 at 2:42 PM UTC
dear Annabelle,
I told you one day:
"look in the mirror
and tell me what you see."
your face was a mask of sadness
and you cringed as you faced your worst enemy-
yourself.
"I'm a monster."
that's what you whispered.
you were glaring at yourself,
with hate,
pure hate.
I looked at you,
the same girl you called a monster.
and I saw the most beautiful,
breathtaking person in the world.
Annabelle, I just didn't get it.
"you're wrong."
I told you.
I was sure,
that you were just insecure.
after all, how does such a perfect,
gorgeous girl have that horrible
of a view of herself?
turns out you had an eating disorder,
called anorexia nervosa.
but it was so much more than
a desire to lose weight.
you wanted to lose yourself.
after that day,
you just got worse and worse.
your world was sinking,
e v e r s o s l o w l y.
I wanted to make you feel batter,
but your demons were in control by then.
and Annabelle, I made you worse.
you starved and cut yourself to death,
and no one could help you.
I should've been there more,
for the girl I loved.
but I let you slip
right from my fingers.
how did I do that?
but I just want you to know,
that your view of yourself was tainted,
and you, radiant Annabelle Simons
weren't saying that,
your demons were.
you were never ugly,
or fat,
or utterly repulsive.
you were naturally beautiful,
in every way.
your smile shined,
as you flipped your midnight hair.
your personality was even brighter.
until the day you decided you weren't good enough
for yourself.
love yourself,
because you're all you have.
hug your flaws,
adore the imperfections.
never try to change who you are
because no matter what you say,
you're good enough.
you always were.
so don't look for acceptance.
it's such an abstract term.
the best thing you can do,
is just look in that mirror,
and give yourself:
A Smile.
love, D.
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 10:36 PM UTC
ponder with me as I throw these diaries
filled with tales of ******* and burnt down cities
towards the direction of every ear
that had but a moment to listen to my plea
of how other lands hold the children of my sanity
of how in other lands I see decadent beauty
how I feel the gnawing tearing in me awfully
supernatural were the nights I imbedded in sultry
cringed smiles and listened to the forgein birdies
inhaled the fumes of gasoline and drowned in the glorifying sunny
wet my lips in salty water and enjoyed the stinging in my eyes
graced the cannabis valleys
and the meadows of sustenance and endless possibility
the waterfalls of magnificent hidden deep in the earth
behind the roses of my ancestors
speak to me my land
call on to me louder
hinder me away from this place
and manifest within in me your womanly power
seek me oh mother land
and cast me away from shattered lives
bring me back to you
and beg me todestroy this demise
I am toughly and sickly
at the same time
shower me with your graciousness
and devoutly banish my crime
I will wait for the thunder calling
and make excuses for this ****** place in the meantime
Oct 30, 2010
Oct 30, 2010 at 12:44 PM UTC
each of these scars on my skin (paper)
tell stories and my fingers touch them to hold my memories
because i remember opening up and i hated telling anyone
how i felt
and what it was like to see my insides pour out
and that i still wanted to do it,
i still wanted to decorate my arms, thighs, stomach, hips, heart
with little pink red purple red lines
i remember when he grabbed my arm and i cringed and flinched and ****** air in through my teeth and my chapped lips
and you knew
through all that blue fabric you could see
my scars
r.c.
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 3:13 PM UTC
What do they mean, this actor-as-if and the never-did, or says-he -never-did, sacrifice or sacred be made?
Primal, on to logic, come reason.
The artifice of sacrifice,
whatever necessitated making sacred a thought?
a sign for a time when words fail,
if words were to fail again,
in confusion after war,
this sign says
trust. Yes, such a sign. By this know us,
fret not, good news... not here...
secret. Sh.
Suffice to say sacrifice means more and less than most
Jordan Peterson /Sam Harris fans would act as if they believe
but, to live as if
be live
me
that's new at every opportunity, pay real close attention,
a safe zone, far from that same madding crowd…
(occluded allusion,
The Classic Far From The Madding Crowd Movie)
I see that crazy dog herd the sheep over the cliff, and I cringe
I cringed then, in the dark.
I was holding your hand but I've forgotten your name,
thanks for dropping by.
Tell Sis hi.
still
be live in the home
a safe zone, far from any madding crowd…
clouds are aloud
contrast to the blues and greens and puples and yes
keepemkeepemkeepem AI wantemferwampum
yeah, this part is
wat do you say? crazy weird need you add **** crazyshit weird ****
if you were a platypus, just cruisin' playin' hunt with hi-tech
magneto-electro-gravitonal sensors, in a pre release, like alpha
version of the proteins involved
And you find your way back to where you once belonged
blocked by a thing named a weir,
it 'lows water through, but not you.
What do you do?
the mud settles you, scout around,
an unhearable sound
an unfeelable touch,
a final beacon, repeating the final news from platypus you,
it worked. dis encorporation all gone rhythm engaged.
Est. system reliable against all obstacles: .166 billion years
by the measure of the man, who was the angel
rolling the rock back up the hill.
Nov 8, 2018
Nov 8, 2018 at 3:56 PM UTC
I cannot be seen with a pear.
Not in this environment.
Where opinions torment
And my affections lay dormant.
My view of you is tainted
What was once reasonable restraint
Is now repulsion and complaint.
I am sorry, dear friend.
But I cannot stand the sight of you.
I wince at the thought of what we used to do.
No more Frank. No more Dean
I want my memory wiped clean.
I cringed when I remember the times you touched me.
The smack of lips is the worst.
From my mouth profanities burst.
It is a shame to think that of my first.
It was pleasant at the time.
But I have to draw a line.
Now I bare the burden of these visions in my mind.
Your smell still lingers.
That stupid ring on your finger.
No wonder we were terrible swingers.
I can bare to text.
but I refuse to sit next to you.
I am sorry to say
Away from me you must stay.
I don't want to see you anyway.
I could never be seen with a pear.
Because I'm superficial and I care
About what people think.
No, it's not fair.
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 2:42 AM UTC
You never felt snow tighten your skin with a sting
You never searched for the shore from the crest of a wave
You never grinned at the gait of a penguin
You never saw a whale’s grey fluke sink after rising
You never breathed in coffee’s warm rich aroma
You never heard the clearing of a smoker’s throat
You never saw headlights peer through dawn fog
You never smiled at an American accent
You never waited in a queue at the bank
You never cringed at the words of a driving instructor
You never sat and failed a biology test
You never kicked a football across the road
You never changed batteries in a tv remote
You never emptied the lawn-mower catcher
You never rushed to catch a bus and missed it
Yet exulted He chose you
Praise and glory to Him
Picked you from this world
And for it
The last in the line
The path straight to follow
To Him high above all
Alhamdulillah!
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 12:33 AM UTC
I had a feeling.
And so far it proves true.
Ever since the time you said
you didn't want to live together next year,
I knew
you had had your fill of me.
A nuisance and delusional twit;
I would abandon me too
if I weren't so attached physically.
My heart,
shattered, strewn across the fresh carpeted floor;
I desperately swept the shards into my hands.
Plucking the larger pieces,
I manipulated them as though working
a jigsaw puzzle.
I cringed and the
tears
began
to
drop,
like the bass flowing from your headphones.
The pieces fell from my fingertips;
I realized the effort equates to
a person's ability to repair a broken mirror.
I,
however,
refuse to discard the shards
into the nearby waste bin.
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 8:03 PM UTC
The day that we met, I watched you press a cigarette to your lips and laugh.
I cringed.
How could a paper stick filled with nicotine leaves and other little ingredients
bring a satisfying, calm five minutes?
We talked about how you were trying to stop,
and how I’d never, ever smoke myself,
and how that was a good thing.
We laughed.
Six months later and I haven’t seen your face in over a week.
A month ago, we were lying in your bed talking about how we’d
always love one another and always have each other,
and you pulled out a cigarette.
You reiterated that it calmed you down but I just grimaced.
How could a paper stick filled with nicotine leaves and other little ingredients
bring a satisfying, calm five minutes?
I wanted to ask again, though I know how addiction works.
You can’t really explain it.
All I’m sure of is you always know you could quit one day.
What I don’t know is if you ever really wanted to.
I took a walk to clear my head of the memories of you last night,
to get some fresh air for the first time in over a week.
It was overall ironic because as I tried to forget you,
as I breathed in the fresh Wisconsin air,
I pulled out a cigarette.
I stared at the rolled paper between my fingers,
and I saw your face.
I could smell you through the air,
taste your lips,
and wondered if I could really replace that connection in my head,
if you really should be represented by impending death and
overwhelming scents that never really fade.
I wonder because I know at heart, you were never made of tar,
you’re just sticking to my mind longer than
you ever really intended,
it was just what you were made to do.
I know you were never made to remind others of death,
though I know you wanted to be a few times.
I know you’ve encountered it and
I know you think about it at least twice a week.
You’ve always reminded me more of a sun,
because you’ve always been bright in my mind,
you’ve always been something I looked forward to seeing,
something that warmed my heart just by stepping into my presence,
you remind me of a fresh gasp of breath,
and that’s why I put the cigarette to my lips.
That’s why I lit it.
That’s why I started smoking,
Not to think of you,
Not to try to remember your taste,
Your scent,
But because
if a cigarette became my ten minute escape,
it’d be my go-to,
and you wouldn’t be.
I could get the calm you experienced and not experience you,
I could feel something other than missing you.
When I snuffed out the ****
I was actually smiling.
I felt free of you,
free of the holds your love brought to me.
For twenty minutes,
I felt complete happiness without thinking about you
for the first time since we met.
So that’s why next time we see one another,
when we do become friends again like we promised
each other that we would,
Next time we meet,
I’ll press a cigarette to my lips,
and I’ll laugh.
We’ll talk about how you were trying to stop,
and how I’d never, ever smoke myself,
and how that promise was temporary,
just like us.
Just like the cigarette.
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 4:47 PM UTC
Some days I long to be held,
and others the thought of someone even shaking my hand makes me cringe
I still can feel hands on my throat
and the touch of an unwanted, wandering hand.
Years have gone by,
Yet the ghostly haunting of your lips on mine will not fade.
But hell, I "wanted it anyway"
I wonder how in the hell you looked into my sobbing eyes,
and decided that turned you on.
But it was my fault for wearing shorts instead of pants,
despite the 93 degree mid-July heat.
After you were done
You held me and asked for me to call you back.
You left me crying by the road side,
With my hair in knots and dirt on my new white shirt
Hours passed as I tried to walk yet couldn't because my whole body felt numb,
My best friend laughed, "nice hickies on your neck"
I cringed inside and had to lie,
hoping no one would ever know those hickies where the bruises you left when I tried to scream.
Feb 22, 2015
Feb 22, 2015 at 4:04 AM UTC
Someone knocked at my door,
I came running almost slipped on the floor,
You ring the bell up to four,
I said "I'm coming" and was shocked to see an Unexpected Visitor,
My stomach cringed when I saw your face,
My lips are trembling by your presence,
My weary eyes are full of dismay,
And then you asked me "How are you my sweet nightingale?"
My voice was caged inside my mouth,
Sending you out is what I want
But instead of that I open my door,
Cover my oblivious uneasiness and said "I'm fine, come into my house; just sit in the sofa, I'll be back in an hour"
My breathing is too hard,
Being with you is too harsh,
And after a while I came back to you, holding a glass of orange juice
I saw how you drank the remaining drops, wishing that you'll be choke and die in your spot
I asked you"Why are you here?"
Anticipating for your answer "It's all because of you"
But who I am to fool myself?
When you answered me, you're here to pick up your new girl
I wanted to strangle your neck with my hands
How could you visit me like I'm not your ex lover?
But as an educated person I treat you like my guest, eventhough I wanted to send you--- back to the hell
Then you finally decided to leave, before my hand meet your face, but before I close my door, I said something that made you stiff,
"Never come back in my life again, for you are not welcome here anymore, you wasted the chance I gave you before, so please Never Come Back you are an Unexpected Visitor".
Aug 22, 2017
Aug 22, 2017 at 11:45 AM UTC
He told me we'd go on a date,
(I felt his hands around my waist)
The park, coffee, just don't be late.
(and cringed away with foul distaste)
I wondered why I cried like this,
I want to love, to feel okay,
What was wrong, what was amiss?
But something made me shy away.
He made me smile and laugh and scream.
His lips said "I love you so much,"
We kissed, we hugged, we were a team.
I felt it too, but feared his touch.
Daddy issues really ****
I lie, I cheat, just not to ****
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 12:13 AM UTC
Once I hoped to write like Ginsberg –
but Allen Ginsberg went to hell.
His bolder Buddhist poetry glitters,
then opens like an empty shell.
In vain one searches for the pearl
within the lyric art he showed us.
Open wide his rotten oyster –
seek the center of the lotus.
Perverted lost Semitic soul –
lyrical ranter, mind unhinged…
He celebrated sin and shame
while crew-cut culture cringed.
His beatnik aircraft took off fast,
flew into bardos of the ******
promising enlightenment –
but the cockpit was unmanned.
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 8:06 PM UTC
Ambivalence sat in a corner staring off into space
as Antipathy tried so very hard to keep up with the pace
Cruelty crept up behind
to pinch them one by one
while Greed badgered them all
to be a part of the fun
Lust writhed upon its chair
and licked its lips upon a grin
Timidity cringed against the wall
bombarded by thoughts
of touching unholy sin
Narcissism saw no one else
while Awareness saw them all
When Love walked in
to join the group
the walls began to fall....
Sep 5, 2012
Sep 5, 2012 at 6:52 AM UTC
I have looked
Into the face
Of a real-life
Monster
He came into view
When I could
Stare
No longer
I tried to catch him
Flinch,
But when he cringed
I pondered…
I have looked
Into the face
Of a real-life
Monster
.
Nov 13, 2020
Nov 13, 2020 at 10:37 AM UTC