"destructing" poems
Elephant in the room, shoo the hell away!
Don't stick around; I wish you wouldn't stay
Don't mess with my head, inciting all I feel
I don't need you here, I want to heal
Stop blaring in my ears, your noxious lies
I'm sick to the stomach with my pathetic cries
Resist flapping your gigantic ears
They simply just fan the rage in my tears
Quit blocking my view with your sheer enormity
Get out of my thoughts so better I could see
Halt your incessant skin rubbing against my sores
Chafing me raw on top of my existing scores
Pull out your pointy tusks, they poke and jab
I'm bent in many places; I don't need more stabs
Take your infernal rear out of my face!
I'm self-destructing, counting up the days
Cease your retaliation, leave with no protest
Go find and sit yourself in someone else's nest
Drop your intentions to stomp me broken
I'm mangled enough; almost misshapen
End this mindless rampage...please
Let me iron myself straight, in peace...
Dear elephant, have you gone?
Thank you for the blight of my time, you've spawned
Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 10:16 PM UTC
She was a hurricane of a girl
Sweeping in
Hair blowing
Destructing everything
In her path
It's a beautiful destruction
Crisp leaves
Blowing around
Autumn laughter
And hearts breaking
It's a beautiful destruction
She leaves behind
The magic of her love
She tears up land
Steals your time
Ripping your heart
Into pieces
Leaving you
Forever shattered
Oh, but what a
Beautiful destruction
You have left behind
©sierraelectra
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 7:44 PM UTC
She dances,
Alone.
In such grace and poise
Positioned in between the tallest buildings
And she poses
For the camera
The bright flashes
Or on stage
In the spotlight
Twirling and twisting
Not a hair out of place
Not a step out of line
Not a breath unplanned
Trained to be accurate
Self destructing, but so well collected
The most beautiful dancer the world has ever seen.
Feb 11, 2016
Feb 11, 2016 at 12:57 AM UTC
Shattered Bowed
Clustered broken glass
Dark shadow engulfs
Laid on the grass
Stone piece signifies
People bid goodbyes
Death Lord besieged
Now a graveyard breed
Tested through times
Committing crimes
Resting, Evil Wrath will rise
Avenging my cries
People, friends betrayed
My Wrath, My Hatred
Declared self-destructing
At times exploding
My Wrath, My Friend
My Wrath, My Hatred
My Wrath, My Enemy
My Wrath, ME!!
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 4:19 AM UTC
but when i said
‘living on the edge,’
this was never
what i meant.
what i meant was real party all night
without parents’ permission;
not a pity party at night
with my self-destructing notions.
what i meant was real rollercoasters,
or go on life adventures;
not roller coasters
of all my life’s emotions.
what i meant was swim in the ocean,
or face my darkest fear.
not an ocean of my
darkest fears face me.
but i when i said
put ‘happy’ and ‘die’ together,
i meant to actually ‘die happy’
not to be ‘happy dying.’
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 2:12 AM UTC
If
Everything
Is to happen
The way it is to be
In the name of "Destiny"
Why should my soul in unrest
Race to a Self destructing "Mutiny"
Only to acheive a mere "Ignominy"?
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 12:07 PM UTC
A figure in the distance
lives on a monetary hill
by siphoning off pensions.
An absence of motive
for this hellish apparition.
Grandiose a la mode,
Slaves to inattention.
Pace yourself
Take your drugs
Sign for help
Relinquish us
Pampering lifestyles
of dying and self-destructing ones
spiraling into the light
disintegrating amongst the dance of suns.
Because eyes are always watching
taking notes on what you've become.
Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 12:00 AM UTC
the tears flow freely now but no noise as not to make an audience of my fake smile unraveling before them for them to see the wall coming down letting the darkness seep from the debris for they will see the true me and cower in the darkness hidden inside me
not exploding but still self destructing
not imploding but still consuming
Feb 1, 2018
Feb 1, 2018 at 6:07 PM UTC
we're old souls you & i.
bound by a need to be something beyond ourselves.
i admire that in you.
your struggles, questioning
breathing new life into stale moments.
we're gypsies i'd say, you & i.
the new beatniks
pushing the boundaries of self discovery
fighting with ourselves & conceptions of identity.
we're moving, always
self destructing
running in search of any semblance of truth.
Jul 28, 2011
Jul 28, 2011 at 11:11 AM UTC
i’m drowning in new york city.
i want to die, again.
always! why is it like this?
i hate everyone; i want my ****** dramatic burlington life and friends back.
her, him, those two, even them…
i want it back.
i wanna be no one.
i wanna be everyone.
i;m full of emotions that i don’t want because everything is so different except for them.
no matter what i do the doom and gloom is always there.
i wanna change my name
i wanna get a dog—auggie or esme, a red border collie—and flee to the south.
I WANNA DRINK MYSELF TO DEATH.
i see these visions of a stable, happy, healthy version of myself but i also see these visions of me literally not making it past age 21.
i’m eternally stuck on self destructing.
but why?
why!
everything is good but it’s never enough.
i’m never enough, it’s never enough, he’s never enough (whoever he is at any given moment)
sam says he’ll fly me back to santa cruz and my insanity says do it but the small semblance of “morals” i still possess tell me not to…
only because of my parents. because of joe.
i don’t want to hurt them.
i don’t want to hurt anyone. but i’m hurting. always. forever. unless i’m drunk. no, wait…even when i’m drunk. i learned that the hard time this last run.
but life is meaningless (words are meaningless and forgettable) and time is a flat circle
blah blah blah
i’ve been here before
i’ll be here again
everything i do i’ll do over and over til i die.
if i don’t get drunk anytime soon i will eventually.
eternal return; the emo version of destiny.
remember when caroline myss’ book told me my highest potential was “victim”?
i’ll be drowning forever.
i’d rather be drowning in absinthe than drowning in aa meeting coffee.
i ache at the beauty of the world; the beauty which i will never achieve or be a part of.
i cry and i cry and i cry.
i want to be beautiful and pure but it’s all so dark.
all the people i’ve loved and who love me…i weep and i weep and i weep.
i can’t breathe fully; why do i wish i could not breathe at all?
i look back at all my pasts as if they were yesterday, and yet they all feel as if i’d made them up entirely.
disconnected and yet fully involved with each and every era of my evolution…
and yet i swear, i haven’t truly changed a bit.
the details change—the scenery, the faces, the dreams…
but all the emotions…all the thoughts…they stay the same.
“i won’t change, i’ll stay the same—darling, fade away…”
fading & falling & then blooming for a single lovely night
time is a flat circle.
i ache, i weep, i cry.
i naively hold onto the hope that someday…someday i’ll be okay.
please, god.
i have to be okay.
i have to turn off the bon iver.
i’m just trying to breathe.
maybe someday.
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 1:27 PM UTC
you can punch your reflection all you want,
the only result will be ****** knuckles and broken glass.
stop pushing it away, you're never gonna be okay.
he didn't want you, maybe it's because you don't even want yourself
self destructing in
5, 4, 3, 2...
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 11:20 PM UTC
Here you are again,
sitting on your bed,
but it seems this time I see the sea running down your face coming from the holes where the universe lies, and the galaxies sit.
Words fly across the room,
self destructing.
Explosions like super novas,
caused by accumulated energy and increasing gravitational pressure.
You collapse. With nothing but a light that outshines any star in your wake.
Pause.
Take a deep breath. Breathe in all the stardust that surround you.
Stop.
Don't even think that you're lesser than these galaxies, for you create them by merely smiling.
Go.
Crank up that hyperdrive,
and blast off to another solar system,
learn new things,
teach yourself to once again fall in love,
like learning to ride a bike,
but always remember the constellations that are burned into your eye lids.
Reminding you not to pass through astroid fields.
Remember this,
when you feel like your oxygen is running low don't hesitate in plugging your tubes into my lungs,
and I will breathe into you all the reasons why I love you.
Know this,
that your mistakes are like the stars that glimmer at night,
they may seem like they're just floating there constantly ,
but know this,
that just like these star, they are nothing but phantom lights,
They no longer exist.
But don't compare me to any of them,
for I am like the moon.
You may see me clearly at night But I am not a phantom light,
I am always here,
like the moon in early hours of the morning.
baby,
As much as I like you learning and experiencing new things
Don't forget that I am back here on earth,
I wanna let you know that,
I miss you.
I miss your long black hair,
and how it stretches like the vastness of space.
Your face that shines like the morning sun.
I will be here,
stirring your favorite cup of hot cosmos,
with a few pieces of comets because I know you don't like it too hot.
Waiting to hear your stories of adventure, and wanting to go back to them.
It may take lightyears for you to come back, but I will be patient.
I will be here,
Waiting for your arrival.
Signed,
Houston.
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 11:24 PM UTC
A sweet face of an angel
She is friends with the devil
At war with the monsters
She is hard to handle
Warm and gentle heart
She has nerves of metal
Slowly freaking out
She is a twisted and mental
Destructing idols of fear
She is unable to settle
On darkness she feeds
She is a born rebel
Jan 30, 2016
Jan 30, 2016 at 6:04 AM UTC
there is no privacy anymore
tinker with your settings,
imaginary dragons, but to no true avail,
your scathing privacy has since sailed,
only to return for another sinking
what you forgot,
is very well remembered
in a some very overlooked place
see me in my summer camp class photo,
blonde crew cut and goofiest of grins,
find my poems of eons ago,
in living tricolor,
to my now better understood
"eternal" embarrassment,
they writ on, vainly looking
for a way to enjoy a
natural unnatural aging,
a wordlessly, self-destructing death
on a someday,
though the probability is that
someone's gigabytes
will cloud store them forevermore
because accumulation is
cheap and easy and
whatever
everything you need but didn't want,
the tangled webs, births and deaths,
multiple divorces and successes,
ancestors, progenitors,
children who no longer acknowledge
parenthood,
the detritus of lives writ even larger than the
original reality life show
confrontation tween my suppression
of long term memories that
are dangling participles,
going gone being been,
confusion resultant in
the tenses of existence,
I was therefore I still must be
but no longer
the me
I pretended to be
*there is no privacy anymore,
especially,
not even from thine own
prying eyes and faulty memories...*
when they ask what is my name,
to better trace my leavings,
I will
like Jehovah to Moses respond,
I Am that I Am
(אֶהְיֶה אֲשֶׁר אֶהְיֶה, ehyeh ašer ehyeh)
Jun 20, 2015
Jun 20, 2015 at 11:55 AM UTC
One-sidedly decided arrows,
vacillating ellipses;
equilaterally considered triangles,
biased Isosceles;
worlds, whorls, rectangled
squares, afflicted rhombuses;
A self-destructing nova.
The night opens up,
a book of wonders across the sky,
shining in the stars; broken moon;
Wading across ancient expanse.
Flashes of illumination:
lighted mountain bush,
cross rising on the eastern sky;
One look at the visage,
blooming out of this figure
wrapped creeper-like around faint
sight, flower emerging in silver light
out of the shadows: bubbles,
rolling, nonagular, collapsing;
Oh pointless ratiocination!
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 1:34 PM UTC
Dissected brilliance
Admissible propositions
Sculpted resilience
Destructing predispositions
Initiates our purpose immensely
Criticism gives it's crucial effect
For the better, accordingly
It's for us to detect
Why? we ask throughout
Our incompetent delusion
Through our endless bout
Here, take your conclusion
"Why" is a sensational question
Dissects mind's interest
Releases its compression
Yet we remain among the belligerent
This answer prolongs
Through your eyes only
In our hearts it belongs
Don't persevere your phony
Bring back your trophy
-Joseph B Schneider
Jul 25, 2014
Jul 25, 2014 at 1:48 AM UTC
I’ve kissed too many lips
who tend to forget my name the next day
I’ve hugged bodies who once kept me warm and loved
that are gone as soon as I realize they never meant it.
I’ve spoken words to people who didn’t even deserve to know the secrets of my universe
I’ve shared beds with souls who were only there to acknowledge their own self worth, while mine deteriorated with every second
I’ve loved humans who didn’t even know what love was, causing me to wastefully pour out whatever was left in my heart...
destructing into the fragile bit of me now
Apr 24, 2018
Apr 24, 2018 at 10:34 PM UTC
As I walk down the street
That looks nothing but normal,
With pedestrians walking on the sides
Mothers calling sons after school,
Teenagers writing their dreams with sweat pants and converse shoes
Trotting down the pathways with their personalities
Compressed in their back packs;
I like to play a game called
“What’s behind the steering wheel?”
A bomb;
A wired representation of defeat
An open gate to oblivion,
A flower with pedals of fire
Pollen of political tyranny
With ignorant humans for bees
That “spread the word”.
“What’s behind the steering wheel?”
A kid reading a book
Forgetting the world outside
For the worlds in fairy tales
Seem real;
And as soon as his eyes start rolling
He envisions himself a leader of a striking army
A great protector of truth,
Or even a little girl dancing her way into the forest;
Busy being a child
She never thought about the monsters waiting on the other side;
And all those characters are despised,
In a world where innocence is put aside
Where dreams are confiscated
Like phones in elementary schools,
Where minds only follow
And hearts are black;
In a world,
Where reading a book becomes a threat
Only terminated by something louder than life
But nothing is louder than words.
“What’s behind the steering wheel?”
Afraid tyrants,
Calculating their reign
In seconds
And seconds are all they leave us
Before we leave us,
Before we start making martyrs of our names
And memorials of our pictures,
Before we write elegies
Before we write poems of anger
Before we cry down our thoughts
Screaming the names of those we lost;
Afraid that one day,
No one will remember those names
Afraid,
That one day,
Our name would be among them.
Ow martyrs who left us a world to fix
Our hands are tired of typing,
Our eyes are drowning
For the more we write down your names on our souls
The heavier are our tears;
Our thoughts are crumbling
Into posts and statuses
But who are we posting for, if all of you are dead?
Ow martyrs who left us with more spaces to cover
We cannot cover all this by ourselves.
Our trials are self-destructing,
Our memories are filled with images of you
Hoping that our memories stay memories
As we revolute towards our future.
Our flowers are wilting,
Our candles are too close to burning out
We have read all the prayers that we know
And as the journey prolongs
I ask myself…
“What now?”
Our rage is dormant,
Our eyes are open as we observe
The post traumatic epilepsies the world is coming about,
Our minds,
Once fooled
Are now base lines for our attacks;
Our hearts are filled with images of you
In an open chamber
Easy to access
For one day
All these images will appear on the surface of us
And that is the day we avenge you
Ow martyrs who left us,
You left us with a world to fix and a nation to create.
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 3:13 PM UTC
In the end
we'll realize that
the revenges we took
wars we fought
battles we lost,
were only self-destructing.
Mar 15, 2015
Mar 15, 2015 at 1:03 AM UTC
He says hes my protector
And some days he'll be my lover
But if he's gonna be both
He must learn how to take cover.
Those who fail to know
From head to toe
What I represent
They who are filled with apprehension
Strving to cage me in sin
Please recognize I am no peasant
Nor am I one of omniscence
Just one with daring endeavers
Dreams of heavenly treasures
Forgetting to realize that I am the one who needs the most attention
Most protection from my intentions
Is the **** part I forgot to mention.
I am my own enemy
Or shall I say frenemy
Because im honest with advice
My conscience always giving me insight
But then my lower self comes destroying life
Self destructing...DYNAMITE
From understanding the self to then losing chess
How will I ever be able to live like the rest
Success
Living righteous
Will I ever see light of day or will it be darkness filled sorrow again tomorrow?
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 10:11 PM UTC
Golden sun on golden hair
The kind of girl you can follow
By the trail of broken hearts
And promises of passion
Fashionable fury
Magnificent monster
Devouring life
Devoted to lust
Desiring love
In my head I saw the cohort
Of lovers, past, present and future
Walking meekly by
Cherishing the whole lot
From first eye contact
To first touch
And even the crush
The smack on the head
That useless feeling of feeling useless
It’s hard not to make the same mistake
Even in a place so mundane
As you set a place like this
Ferociously on fire
Burning and battering
Heat and heart
Mesmerizing mess
Deviously destructing
The girl at the bus station
Promising a journey you’ll regret
And a morning after to forget
Sentimental slur
Like only a fool could feel
Heading in heart first
Ending up endangered
Feelings rearranged
Promises kept
The girl at the bus station
You know she’ll break your heart
And still you get aboard
Because life’s too short
Not to give in to sin
Sensual sacrificing
Dare to wear your heart
On a sleeve
Only to have it thrown away
So she transformed
From the girl at the bus station
Into the girl from that one memory
Of that horrible movie
And that passionate play
Hoping that it all
Proves to be a prequel
Of the story of a lifetime
About a girl at the bus station
And a fool who came to stay
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 6:07 AM UTC
I came to a cross road,
The first one I think I had ever been to,
There I straddled a thin line,
Between my faith and fear,
And I stood there just staring at my feet.
My Grandmother always told me,
Just let life unfold,
But it's a terrible thing being taken from everything you know,
And I had no control,
That was the scariest thing.
I heard faint voices down both paths,
I heard their judgmental tones,
But I couldn't make out what they were saying,
Maybe if I did I could of made a choice,
But sometimes I didn't even know if the choice was actually mine.
I was always a victim of some terrible situation,
One after another, after another,
The same situations had made me cold and indecisive,
After all, there's only so many times a kid can rebuild all those walls,
I had my heart broken more times then I could count,
I got to the point that most of the time I didn't even know if my heart was there,
I had moments where I checked my pulse, because to be living I didn't feel very alive.
So I was standing there,
And all I wanted to do was turn around and run,
And when I knew I should of made a choice between the two,
I cut through the trees,
And made a path of my own,
I disappointed everyone I knew,
But maybe they didn't know me very well at all,
Cause I was self destructing and nobody knew.
Dec 18, 2012
Dec 18, 2012 at 9:32 AM UTC
I am unafraid tonight
To write and sign my real name.
To like what I read which is almost everything here
For the sake, for the pain, for the unashamed, for just
Celebrating those who breathe life for the just
Trying.
I am unafraid tonight
To disclose that I live as an
Agonist
In a city that ghost taps on my windows,
( thank you Ilion gray for that),
When the quiet is pockmarked by so many crying the
Loudest tears.
I am unafraid tonight
To express my dissatisfaction with you.
I am unafraid tonight
To express the miracle of those across oceans,
And across town,
Welcoming me into their hearts and wonder
Where else do the wayfarers gather
I am I am
unafraid tonight
To curry your favor,
Despise your silence
Expose corners of me
That should be buried
Before my body later follows
I am unafraid tonight
To use or abuse punctuation
For their are spaces and ,
Between us that can and cannot be closed
But I am compelled to try to narrow the differences
For
I am unafraid tonight
Tomorrow, we shall see,
If the shale within can yet be fractured,
Brought to the surface
To be consumed,
Or the fractures spread
Destructing the whole.
But tonight,
I am unafraid.
Sep 20, 2013
Sep 20, 2013 at 2:41 AM UTC
My emotional compass is losing its gravitational pull ...
At times the direction dies still. At other times, it spins madly.
I feel like I'm being crushed between two walls and drowned within thunder-clapping waves. Yet, on the surface of my ocean, the glass waters reflect a serene, tranquil light of the full moon hugging its night sky.
I'm uncertain. I’m indecisive. I run away to the farthest, darkest corner of the forest. I also flee to the highest peaks and hide under sunlight.
I'm not fearful of destruction. I'm fearful of being destructive. I tend to destruct myself by destructing the souls I cherish most. Nightmares of finding myself in abandoned emptiness haunt me. I fear being left, so I walk away. I fear being loved deeply, so I push them away. And this ... this is where I become destructive.
I say I’m seeking peaceful stability, when truthfully...? My soul is gushing across the ends of the earth all at once. Maybe I find peace in the chaos. Maybe I just feed on chaos.
I throw my soul into the deepest wells of love. I find myself abruptly climbing back to the surface, clawing my way up those walls. And just as I nearly reach the top, I intentionally let go of myself only to fall back in. The record breaks on replay.
I gather myself, set the records straight then let them role into chaos once more. Once More replays itself endlessly through the space and time of my existence, and my life turns into a repetition of these "once more" chaotic events. Secret be told, I think I enjoy all of this. All so exciting and lively at that moment. Alas, dreadful at points of reality checks. Lifeless at the destination.
So…? I gather myself and set the records straight again ... once more ... once more, again ... and again ...
Helpless. But wild.
Wild. But easily tamed.
Tamed. But cannot be owned.
Gently handle my being. I'm too stubborn ... Even with my own self. Yet, I also feel ever so delicate and fragile. I can easily break at my own grip.
I’ll tell you how …
It's all in the simplicities - which can also turn into complexities - found in the sun’s golden hour. Yellow rays against my skin. Illuminated dust particles dancing through my fingers. A warm whisper. That bold dive. Grab me by the extremes.
Right now .. I think I’m coming up with a case of the blues.
So, come … Dip me not in the rainbow, but in the *** of gold at the far end.
Take me all the way ... The noise, it enchants me.
Be still my heart, it’s him … Chaos.
Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 1:20 PM UTC
You absolutely do not get the honor of burning a numerical value on her self-worth.
You certainly do not get to measure that assumption from the hem-line tailored on her thighs. Or the daring dresses she wore because it made her feel a different kind of beautiful.
She is not asking for it. What she will demand for is neither your attention nor stares. She wants respect.
Can you do that?
Oh, and when you are emboldened by your 'witty' validation that she is a **** or of promiscuous nature, all down to the clothes she wears on her back.
Don’t.
Cotton stitches against warm skin. (She was enjoying a walk.)
Silk swathes on slightly chilled bones. (She forgot her jacket on a Wednesday night out with friends.)
Thick knits adorn even more layers of cotton. (It was a winter night.)
Their cold lips pursed by the late hour, scream silence.
With that validation, you normalise and excuse the acts of **** soul-destructing ****** offences.
For you have blamed the victim.
You excuse a depraved psychological state.
The veins that choked from ice and no’s. You have forgotten.
Rapists and ****** offenders do not get the luxury of being excused.
Neither do you, ****
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 8:52 AM UTC