"deprication" poems
The letter I never sent,
I write my valentine on my beating heart,
And send a perennial prayer,
That you could know without knowing.
Petals on your doorstep,
But no signature,
Pink Rosehip on your bedsheets,
Spying through your window blinds,
At someone I invented.
A label that travels as my desperations move it,
How I value the sick,
The unnatural,
The corpse and the comfort.
The will to pull me off the train,
The weight of every station,
The ommitance after the deprication,
And the awkward silence after the cosmic joke.
I lust for that iced libation,
The roseate water of ivy and redemption,
A clay to fit inside my insatiable skin hunger,
A welcomed error of continuity in my own beliefs,
And my perennial prayer,
For an ardent antiphon.
-Unabaitingly, The Romantically Inept
May 8, 2019
May 8, 2019 at 4:58 PM UTC
Bet I’m in the belly of the Beast
With this enemy ofMe
Do I fight or flight or Freeze?
Cause either way
this mother *******
coming straight At me
I was only a dark forest away
From where I needed to be
I never metaphor for anxiety
Like this one
*** Imposter syndrome
Mara’s army fires arrows
Of self-deprication
And self-doubt
And i hit the ground running exhausted
Hot and heavy heaving
To the four-on-the-floor
At the heart of the war…
She was doing yoga in the distance
And as she rose to mountain pose
I let my mind slip back into the prose
Where I fetishized her
Like some sacred ******* object
Caught in the act like Actaeon
Watching The Huntress bathing
Basilisk staring me down
Like Artemis cloaked
In her wild fury
And as she rose to mountain pose...
She held a crescent blade
To the throat of the horizon
Locking her eyes in
As she stood over Gaia’s mouth
Spinning up **** Magick
Earth the power back from the word
She channels power back from the void
From womb to tomb
To womb of the tomb
She creates
She destroys
Her body, Her weapon
Her own ******* choice
Dec 30, 2023
Dec 30, 2023 at 8:05 PM UTC
One
Two
Three
Blood exudes from the veins I've cut
I wonder how it got this way
From the pain of my heart being replaced by numbness
And the pain in my arm replaces any pain I had before
This spiral downwards that was caused by self deprication
Now it's turned into serious depression
Can anyone explain to me how it came to this?
And now I can't stop
Four
Five
Six
I've run out of room and I can't run from these problems anymore
I need to be loved by someone
Anyone
And maybe I could feel again
Feel something other than pain in my heart
Feel happiness and love
Then I might stop.
Jan 15, 2013
Jan 15, 2013 at 10:57 AM UTC
it's been something I've believed since the day I saw the light
the light that shines on every one's face
that shines through the acne or scars
the birth marks or bars
that everyone is beautiful
regardless of what titles theyve been given
I know you've all heard it before
or maybe you haven't
either way you need to know
that you are not what you're told
whether that be garbage, or gold
you need only one title to call yourself
that's human
that's living
breathing
and with a heart aimed somewhere past your past
you have the potential to be great
but only when you realize that you're strongest in your weakness
when you see that the road less travelled
is less trampled
beaten
because people weren't stepped on
walked all over
they carried each other
held each other up
the road less traveled isn't easier
in fact, it's rockier
sharper
steeper
and you're most likely going to get hurt
you're going to gain some scars
because the road less traveled was pioneered by forgiveness
and i don't want you to think that it's easy
because it's not
i don't want you to think it's simple
because it's not
i want you to know it's right
so do the hardest thing tonight
and forgive yourself
so that you can start down the road less traveled
called beauty
Sep 27, 2013
Sep 27, 2013 at 5:43 PM UTC
i'm excessive and irrational,
I don't think clearly, i might have no morals,
and i don't make wise choices.
i'm a bad person, really,
and I feel inferior to you.
but it's nothing that you do.
you're smart and decisive,
you have an artistic eye,
and so do i,
but you use it better.
i'm silly and sad,
your a firecracker of many colors.
i fizzle and you shine.
i write poems of self-deprication,
and you don't.
Feb 10, 2012
Feb 10, 2012 at 2:05 AM UTC
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by
Snapchats, left swipes, number of likes and screen-lit nights
Destroyed by 4 second nudes and the two buttons that make 4 seconds infinite
By searching amazon prime for a suicide prevention kit
By taking one sip too many and ending the night with plenty of tounges down your throat
By Geebs with too much milk, opinions stronger than silk
Both good yet impressionable and easy to lose control
By LED light seeping into the numb soul of the follower searching for love on Google
Destroyed by the vibration of a body-count notification
Destroyed by that first battery-powered rip, desperate for a trip thats not to the therapist
Desperate to feel addiction, the need for need combined with heriditary greed
Addiction lowers suicidal thoughts, craving the next day to take your next shot
Shots of ***** shots of hate, shots at children, all shots are great
We feel alive when we hear about death, we finally appreciate oxygen breath
Destroyed by the friendships lost over hillary vs donald
Waiting for the day we get old, so that we have a say & we’ll look back and realize these are suppossed to be the good old days
The days spent sitting in metal chairs next to the boy with pot-smelling hair
Destroyed by the fear of never being enough because college prep means you are on track
And on track means you’re two steps back
The princible said “cover up” to the girl with the huge rack
Every eye that is layed on you is a personal attack
Behind the scenes of these ************* memes is self deprication and pain that we somehow all relate to
Waiting for the iphone x to come out so that we can feel brand new
Destroyed by depression becoming the media’s new obsession
Destroyed by the inability to jump into a TV screen and live a different life
Destroyed by your ****** up families strife
The ‘correct’ kids words cut like a knife
Destroyed by the fact that there is not enough beer in the world to drown all your fear
About the fact that your stuck in high school for at least another year
Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 8:16 PM UTC
I have found the one for whom my soul implores me to be bold.
To step out of this box of self-deprication, so tired and old.
Familiar ass-backwards comforts and promises to self,
to never be sold.
Be sold *****
Mixed up as he is, he IS it!
Not THE one, for there is no ONE!
This mirage is merely who we pick, to settle down and grow old with.
Who we bestow the honor, to be honored, to be cherished.
With whom we make the most of failed patterns, life's trenches.
He IS it.
Be vulnerable, give it all,
ME, your heart and soul.
If he wants me afterall,
after all mutual deceit, decay,
to be reborn, to rebuild and shine gloriously, in ubiquitous, unified heartbeats..this is love.
No different than any other force of nature, unrelenting.
If his spite denies me,
for all of time,
or at least this life,
I STILL find,
I have lost nothing.
My soul was already lost to him,
so what have I left to lose to him?
Nothing...aside from regret,
eating away at my self-love, my flesh.
I'd rather be full and whole,
in patience, virtue, strength and boundless, understanding love.
I'd rather be all of this,
grown past any dark corner of my soul, grown past any limit I have known before, stretching my hand up to the Gods, flexing the growth of all I have endured.
I love to be who I never was,
rather than a skeleton,
crouching behind a closed door.
A shell for the next man to come, every beautiful gesture inviting moths to perch these broken bones til they fall to dust,
as they did for him,
when he tried reclining into them.
This scene was obscured by a pretty smile, that stood as a remnant of who I was. Glassy eyed mirrors, shining back what might be love, or band-aid'd pride, a shell of who he was. My skin, a tally sheet, record kept of gains and losses. With mournful regret and contempt it'd be again inscribed..if I wandered off, giving up, licking my wounds of pride.
The only way left
to proliferate my cells,
to fill this hole in my chest,
is to give my soul bowed down,
freed from the chains of contempt.
Hold my hand and transcend this madness.
Afterall, you did say you love me. Perhaps you meant it for the fifty-third time. Or turn on your heel and there's reality, circumscribed. Some can say love and never mean it, not even knowing they've lied.
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 6:53 PM UTC
Holding on to my own hand,
Breathing deeply into a new day.
Eyeing the edge of the douvet,
Considering what lies on the otherside.
They are not here this morning,
There are no phantoms in my mind.
Pulling me to stay asleep,
Urging me to give another day.
Mourning something that never was,
is a stupid and relentless task,
with no satisfaction or conclusion.
No.
Today is a new day,
Today is a new me,
Today is a new life,
Starting without the preoccupation,
And self deprication and endless isolation.
Breath deep and enjoy the new,
thats the lesson i give to you.
Mar 11, 2011
Mar 11, 2011 at 5:20 PM UTC
I’m an embarrassment to my name
I’m a ****** all the same
I could sing this every day
Not really
Just kidding
I’m not so negative
Or at least I don’t allow myself to be
They’re just excuses
Used to cover up
Mistakes
Embarrassments
Make myself feel better about
My failures
But I know they’re not really true
At least,
They’re not what I truly believe
Aug 10, 2018
Aug 10, 2018 at 9:02 PM UTC
My permanent mental state is an odd battle between paranoia and self-deprication.
Are they laughing behind my back or am I not worth a mention?
Sep 23, 2019
Sep 23, 2019 at 5:56 AM UTC
Silly.
Foolish.
Two words
Most unpleasant
When coming from my
Own lips, but
Made moreso because
They are
Self-depricating.
Dec 28, 2010
Dec 28, 2010 at 5:25 PM UTC
The darkness has consumed me
The malodour clinging to my rags
How did i become this?
Tormentors of vile belonging
Dwelling In the cavity where the roses once grew
Oh you should have seen the roses
Pristine and optomistic
They grew skyward ever chasing the warm sensuality
That filled the mind and body
Watered with the best of self
They flourished
Tracing the time
Where water became poison
And light became black
I find myself in the crossroads with you
Where my turn of fate became a fatal turn
My thorns magnified
The creeping fèeling that all things selfless
Begin with self deprication
And selfless is a virtue
The roses cleared from their home
One by one with every good intention
My garden had become a graveyard
And time became a dreadful thought
To have eternity in the dark
So that your light could shine the brighter
Nov 30, 2017
Nov 30, 2017 at 3:29 PM UTC
You can't always get what you want
You won't always want what you get
IT'S WHAT YOU NEED THAT MATTERS
A picture is worth a thousand words.
A word is worth a thousand pictures
Don't add insult to injury
Insult is its own irreparable Injury
WHY DO PEOPLE UNDERESTIMATE THE POWER OF WORDS
People who live in glass houses should not throw stones.
People who live in stone houses should not throw glass
IF YOU LIVE IN SUCH A DARK COLD AND HARD PLACE (THAT YOU REFER TO AS YOUR MIND) THROWING GLASS (WHICH THE REST OF THE WORLD CALLS SELF-DEPRICATION) IT DOESN'T AFFECT YOUR MIND FOR THE BETTER THE SHARDS WILL SIMPLY SHOWER DOWN AND PIERCE YOU
Repost if you disagree with proverbs too!
Please comment I love to read interpretations of my work and really any other thoughts you may have! :)
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 1:40 AM UTC
It’s sad sometimes how desperate I can be
But what’s even sadder is-
Enough
CUT OUT THE POINTLESS SELF DEPRICATION
Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 1:39 PM UTC
If I were a chapter
in a book of relationships,
my title would be
“The Learning Experience.”
Feb 2, 2021
Feb 2, 2021 at 11:59 AM UTC
Third wheel
Extra
Discarded
Trash
Time to pull out the self pity
Wrap it around myself tight.
A snug cocoon
A supposed shield
Suffocating me unnoticed
From the inside.
...
Till it’s too late
Jun 29, 2018
Jun 29, 2018 at 9:08 PM UTC