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"disgusted" poems
I'm a photographer, and I can't picture you and I together. If I were a stop light, I'd turn green everytime you passed by, just so I don't have to see you any longer. I thought happiness started with an HAPPI. Why does mine start with NOT U? Are you a camera? Because every time I look at you, I run and hide. Do you have a map? I need to figure out a way to get the hell away from you. Do you live in a corn field, cause I'm just gonna harvest you and sell you to someone else. Are you a parking ticket? 'Cause you've got Violation written all over you. You look cold. Good. Freeze to death. Can I have directions? [To where?] To get the hell away from you. I'm not drunk, I'm just intoxicated enough to tolerate talking to you. I was so disgusted by your face that I ran into that wall over there. But thank god I don't have insurance, so don't bother telling me your name and number. Is there an airport nearby, cause I'm gotta get on the next flight to Antarctica and get the hell away from you. You look so familiar… didn't we take a class together? I could've sworn we had physical education, where I was educated how to physically hurt you. If you are a steak, I'd say you are too meaty. Can I have a picture of you? So I can show Santa what I don't want for Christmas. There must be something wrong with my eyes, they've started bleeding at the sight of you.
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Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 3:54 PM UTC
Rejection lines (follow up to Pickup Lines)
I don't know since when. This diet has began and gone extreme. There was once a reasonable aim. But a new one comes up whenever the old was claimed.   Crosses over the weekdays. Tell me how far I have gone. But the crosses goes on, They linger far too long.   I was counting on my calories. Eating portions from my lunchbox. No more than a quarter I couldn't stop. I'm sorry. But I'm not. Led by starvation my ultimate downfall. I was saving all the calories. For a binge at a time. Keeping in my desires. Till it's time to dine. No my throat is on fire. It's getting tire and tire. So I kept eating and release as I violently ***** This is all too disgusting. dreadful. disgusted am I. Nothing have I eaten for breakfast, lunch, tea and dinner. Spooning out from my kiwifruit. No one could save me. From my one and only solitude.
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Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 4:45 PM UTC
The Kiwifruit and the Anorexic
What if every little thought That lives inside your head Instead of hiding away in there Was spoken out, was said? Would you be embarrassed? Would you hate your mouth? Would you rather be mute Than let the truth come out? What if every little thing That people thought of you Instead of being tucked away Was heard, was listened to? Would you be ashamed? Would you cover your ears? Would you rather be deaf Than let the truth come near? And what if every image That passes through your thoughts Was freed from its prison To roam until it rots? Would you be disgusted? Would you look away? Would you rather be blind Than see your thoughts at play?
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Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 10:26 AM UTC
What if....
Let me apologize, to begin with because of my body type. I will NEVER be good enough for anyone to date due to current 'hype.' You know, the battle of 'bones' vs curves? Just let me inflate myself to the  right number so I can properly serve As the perfect specimen for your delicate eyes. Obviously no one is good enough unless they've got decent thighs. But just wait a god **** minute, because here I am again: So let me apologize, to begin with, if I offend You or your friends who think they're too good To date someone size zero with some extra love under the hood. How many times have I heard you exclaim in disgust Of how large she is and how you'd drown in her, If you even got near her? I saw you shaking in fear. From your head to your toes, you were trembling dear. See I'm told to eat less and maybe, just maybe But if I was skinny, and let's tell the truth, You'd be so disgusted by my looks . I could eat a salad and still gain a pound , She could eat a salad and the crunch is the only sound You hear a mile away and yet you would assume That burgers and French fries is all that she consumed. Do you ever stop to think, ladies and gents? The true beauty of someone isn't based on the number on their pants. So, let me apologize, to begin with, If I bruise your massive ego, But the way to tell if she's the perfect woman is not by your libido
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May 22, 2018
May 22, 2018 at 1:12 AM UTC
Let me apologize
We are like roses that have never bothered to bloom when we should have bloomed and it is as if the sun has become disgusted with waiting
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14.6k
Finish
Disgust toward the police. Disgust toward the school system. Disgust toward the students. Disgust toward the government. Disgust toward the citizens. Disgust toward my family. Disgust toward myself. Disgust toward the ACT. Disgust toward state tests. Disgust toward society. Disgust toward impossible standards. Disgust toward the hypocritical people. Disgusted by the violence. Disgusted by the killing. Disgusted by the inequality. Disgust toward this nation. Disgusted by how we treat each other.
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Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 9:30 PM UTC
Disgust
On a mythical Mumbai weekend, of no serene start or dubious end, with imaginary beauties, invisible friends, I stepped out of a puffing train, my long unkempt hair a lion's mane, getting used to my twitching tail, Posing on the Gateway of India, the extraordinary explorer pose, took a boat to Elephanta (sans the hose), and when my shivering co-passengers had finished feverishly taking pictures and started screaming holy mothers and sisters, I took off from the starboard end, and became the first man-lion to cross the polluted Indian channel, surviving to make the news channels, my scientific name listed as a brand new mammal, my mating call recognized as a gushing gargle, On a mythical Mumbai weekend, of no serene start or dubious end, with imaginary beauties, invisible friends, I devoured deep-kissing lovers for lunch at Bandstand's low-tide on a hunch, to the delicious sound of munch! munch! even as Shah Rukh Khan watched disgusted from his big big bungalow by the sea, and as the city sharpshooters came after me,     and later when they brought me down, from Nariman Point building, like KING KONG, I tuned a dusty guitar and sang a melancholy song, on the death of adventure, love and reality, dangers of delusions, lethargy and self-pity, repression, horniness and too much TV, down in a shower of bullets when I went, sky like the coming of rain, godspeed, godsend, in a mythical city, where nothing is really meant, On a mythical Mumbai weekend, of no serene start or dubious end, with imaginary beauties, invisible friends...
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Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 11:01 AM UTC
On A Mythical Mumbai Weekend
On a mythical Mumbai weekend, of no serene start or dubious end, with imaginary beauties, invisible friends, I stepped out of a puffing train, my long unkempt hair a lion's mane, getting used to my twitching tail, Posing on the Gateway of India, the extraordinary explorer pose, took a boat to Elephanta (sans the hose), and when my shivering co-passengers had finished feverishly taking pictures and started screaming holy mothers and sisters, I took off from the starboard end, and became the first man-lion to cross the polluted Indian channel, surviving to make the news channels, my scientific name listed as a brand new mammal, my mating call recognized as a gushing gargle, On a mythical Mumbai weekend, of no serene start or dubious end, with imaginary beauties, invisible friends, I devoured deep-kissing lovers for lunch at Bandstand's low-tide on a hunch, to the delicious sound of munch! munch! even as Shah Rukh Khan watched disgusted from his big big bungalow by the sea, and as the city sharpshooters came after me,     and later when they brought me down, from Nariman Point building, like KING KONG, I tuned a dusty guitar and sang a melancholy song, on the death of adventure, love and reality, dangers of delusions, lethargy and self-pity, repression, horniness and too much TV, down in a shower of bullets when I went, sky like the coming of rain, godspeed, godsend, in a mythical city, where nothing is really meant, On a mythical Mumbai weekend, of no serene start or dubious end, with imaginary beauties, invisible friends...
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39
deadbeat by Natalie Elizabeth (Notes) on Thursday, April 7, 2011 at 10:42am the knowledge i hold neatly stacked inside my head makes me want to ***** and laugh my *** off disgusted smells nasty like moonshine fermented rotten taste bites the back of my throat pulling up unwillingly, bile clear bitter bile turn my head and casually spit **** kid you make me sick but all i can do is laugh pitiful it came down to this
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Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 12:09 AM UTC
deadbeat
Sitting on my bed Gazing out at the view Laptop in lap I wonder Being of mixed race The truth of my origins The blood coursing through my veins Goffle they would say But iv always believed a man's skin colour doesn't define who he is Kwabulawayo A place where he is being killed Home of the Ndebele My hometown Built on the ruins of a Royal town uMzilikazi ,Leander Starr Jameson ,Lobengula ,Cecil john rhodes Men of courage Black and white Fought struggles Years before my birth Mater Dei Hospital My journeys beginning My grandfathers end. Joy and pain My hearts memories From Primary Whitestone Green fields Where i spent my childhood Life's little joys Clay-yaki In the rain Barefoot. Speargrass How it stung Running through the grass Taller than i was Forts Built with shoelaces Marbles Fights in the sand Afternoons spent picking mullberyys The girls dormitory Offbounds. Matrons Got me the cain Thursday Nights Prefects Priveleges Sports Cross country The houses of Tuli, Shangani, Shashe lifelong friends made A place frozen in memory Home of the best years of my life Tears streaming down Every Sunday evening The way back A boarders sentiment Lasting 5min till reunited with friends Tuck shared Eskimo Hut The Green Mamba Or Pink Panther The food hall Quiet Till dessert came Mr Haworth Everyday "The queen would be disgusted if she saw u eating" The tide of his time Wandering around my childhood I bumped unintentionally into Maturity Starless nights First kisses A little bit older i was
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Aug 21, 2010
Aug 21, 2010 at 8:34 AM UTC
Hometown
Sitting on my bed Gazing out at the view Laptop in lap I wonder Being of mixed race The truth of my origins The blood coursing through my veins Goffle they would say But iv always believed a man's skin colour doesn't define who he is Kwabulawayo A place where he is being killed Home of the Ndebele My hometown Built on the ruins of a Royal town uMzilikazi ,Leander Starr Jameson ,Lobengula ,Cecil john rhodes Men of courage Black and white Fought struggles Years before my birth Mater Dei Hospital My journeys beginning My grandfathers end. Joy and pain My hearts memories From Primary Whitestone Green fields Where i spent my childhood Life's little joys Clay-yaki In the rain Barefoot. Speargrass How it stung Running through the grass Taller than i was Forts Built with shoelaces Marbles Fights in the sand Afternoons spent picking mullberyys The girls dormitory Offbounds. Matrons Got me the cain Thursday Nights Prefects Priveleges Sports Cross country The houses of Tuli, Shangani, Shashe lifelong friends made A place frozen in memory Home of the best years of my life Tears streaming down Every Sunday evening The way back A boarders sentiment Lasting 5min till reunited with friends Tuck shared Eskimo Hut The Green Mamba Or Pink Panther The food hall Quiet Till dessert came Mr Haworth Everyday "The queen would be disgusted if she saw u eating" The tide of his time Wandering around my childhood I bumped unintentionally into Maturity Starless nights First kisses A little bit older i was
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74
The glitter and the shame The wow and the woe The wants and the needs Do we even know? Covered in gems that weigh us down Chasing the trends that never last Isn't it enough? Isn't it exhausting? Such contradictions we resort to The more we huger, the more we fall Only to find that nothing last at all So what are we chasing, what are we doing? Does this ever end? What has humanity become? I am disgusted Myself included
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Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 11:10 PM UTC
Materialism
I'll walk into my home smelling like cancer and tasting like death because I don't want you. I'm selfish. I want you to break up with me. I want you to be so disgusted by my habits that it breaks you down until you realize that I'm not going to wait for you to figure out that I don't need you. I need space and you're not letting me push you away. I need you to push away from me; break me apart so that I'll at least know you aren't incapable of feeling broken. I want you to leave me so I don't have to deal with you being broken because of me. I can't do it anymore. I've broken so many people, but for some reason I can't break you. So, I need you to break me.
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Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 9:04 PM UTC
Smoking
He smiled at me and said 'here, take this' It was a happy little pill of his and it would feel bliss I smiled and gave him a kiss saying, 'thank you baby' But what happened next forever will drive me crazy Next thing you know I was spinning in my head Then he wanted to bring me to a bed His friends walked in and wanted more So they all called me a ***** little ***** My body was numb and I couldn’t move I let out a scream but they didn’t approve Everything went black but then again I woke But to them it was nothing but a funny little joke They locked me inside of a walk in closet So if there was a stir I sure wouldn’t cause it I blacked out again and woke in a different place Treating me as if my soul were missing and my body were a case Still I was unable to move nor speak But he still said he loved me and kissed me on the cheek I counted five inhumane beings on top of me moaning One was even playfully groaning I was disgusted and wanted it to end But I knew that after this my mind would never mend By now it would have been a little past three in the morning Earlier I should have taken that adorable face as a warning When they realized I was sobering up They had an alibi saying they’d call this a hookup When I could finally move my mouth again I realized what had happened and felt heavy chest pain They heard that I was muttering words that were incomprehensible They saw me as nothing more than a body and that I was dispensable They came up with a plan to hide my body in a ditch I even heard one say, 'she deserved it, what a stupid bitch' I hit my head when they threw me on the ground I only saw black in front of me and around I woke up to a woman asking if I were okay I only said one phrase and it was that 'I was betrayed' What happened after that is irrelevant at best All I will say is that I was nothing but stressed This is my story and it happened two years ago today Nailing an image in my mind that I was a targeted prey I know now that I hold so much more worth And I love myself more than anything on this Earth Just know that these words have come straight from my heart No matter how vile and disgusting this memory is, I can never restart So I tried to make it a poem so it seems like some kind of art. h.m.w
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Sep 28, 2017
Sep 28, 2017 at 5:57 PM UTC
Happy Little Pill.
He smiled at me and said 'here, take this' It was a happy little pill of his and it would feel bliss I smiled and gave him a kiss saying, 'thank you baby' But what happened next forever will drive me crazy Next thing you know I was spinning in my head Then he wanted to bring me to a bed His friends walked in and wanted more So they all called me a ***** little ***** My body was numb and I couldn’t move I let out a scream but they didn’t approve Everything went black but then again I woke But to them it was nothing but a funny little joke They locked me inside of a walk in closet So if there was a stir I sure wouldn’t cause it I blacked out again and woke in a different place Treating me as if my soul were missing and my body were a case Still I was unable to move nor speak But he still said he loved me and kissed me on the cheek I counted five inhumane beings on top of me moaning One was even playfully groaning I was disgusted and wanted it to end But I knew that after this my mind would never mend By now it would have been a little past three in the morning Earlier I should have taken that adorable face as a warning When they realized I was sobering up They had an alibi saying they’d call this a hookup When I could finally move my mouth again I realized what had happened and felt heavy chest pain They heard that I was muttering words that were incomprehensible They saw me as nothing more than a body and that I was dispensable They came up with a plan to hide my body in a ditch I even heard one say, 'she deserved it, what a stupid bitch' I hit my head when they threw me on the ground I only saw black in front of me and around I woke up to a woman asking if I were okay I only said one phrase and it was that 'I was betrayed' What happened after that is irrelevant at best All I will say is that I was nothing but stressed This is my story and it happened two years ago today Nailing an image in my mind that I was a targeted prey I know now that I hold so much more worth And I love myself more than anything on this Earth Just know that these words have come straight from my heart No matter how vile and disgusting this memory is, I can never restart So I tried to make it a poem so it seems like some kind of art. h.m.w
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46
ew you’re on your period that’s disgusting and whenever i get a "feminine product" i have to hide it deep down where nobody sees it but you see we live in a world where our own girls are getting ***** i’m a girl, not a *** object but in the eyes of a ****** that is exactly what i am but i’m not an object i am a person i am a life giver just imagine if men were as disgusted in **** as they are with periods in the sixth grade when the word period was mentioned the whole room would burst out in laughter i am a girl my lady bits bleed and that’s what makes me strong and that’s what makes me a young woman and that’s what will make me a mother one day so ew you’re on your period that’s disgusting is not an insult to me
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Feb 5, 2018
Feb 5, 2018 at 8:35 AM UTC
ew you're on your period
My 2 Cents “the advocacy of women’s rights on the grounds of political, social, and economic equality to men.” Let me start by mentioning that I don’t usually get involved with political matters, but in this case, I’d say it’s more of a basic human rights matter. I’m a man, and I’m a feminist. I was lucky enough to grow up in a home with three women; my mother and two older sisters. Growing up with them gave me an enormous amount of respect for women, (even though I may have lost a certain amount of socially expected masculinity along the way), and their current lives continue to increase my respect for the opposite gender. My oldest sister is leaving to study abroad at Oxford in less than a week to major in philosophy. Philosophy. She also graduated high school with a 4.0 and was involved in power lifting competitions and is enlisted in ROTC. Simply put, she’s an animal. She’s worked hard her entire life and I’d hate to see a world that put that hard work to waste. My other sister is working three jobs to pay her way through college and is planning to major in psychology. I’m always envious of her work ethic and level of commitment to not only her education, but to her friends and family as well. My mother has been my backbone since I was a child. She was always the one I turned to in times of trouble, and continues to be. She works hard everyday, while going through mentally straining marriage problems, and comes home and still asks me about my day. She has given me nothing but unconditional love for my entire existence. For these reasons, it boggles my mind why anyone would ever be anti-feminism. I am genuinely confused as to why, because their bodies are different, women get less privileges, respect, opportunities, and even money. I just don’t get it. I am also disgusted that women are seen by most men as walking ****** organs. l will admit genuine guilt to using the number scale to “rate” women. It’s something I grew up with, but now it sickens me. Assigning a number to a woman based on your misguided views on how she should look, whether you would **** her, is something I find repulsive. There’s nothing wrong with admiring the opposite *** but no one gives a **** about your stupid opinion, especially the woman. I hope someday if I ever have a daughter that she will have the privilege of living in a country of gender equality, tolerance, and open-mindedness. Anyway, I just wanted to put my two cents in. I am a man. I am a feminist. Peace.
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Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 9:46 PM UTC
My Two Cents
My 2 Cents “the advocacy of women’s rights on the grounds of political, social, and economic equality to men.” Let me start by mentioning that I don’t usually get involved with political matters, but in this case, I’d say it’s more of a basic human rights matter. I’m a man, and I’m a feminist. I was lucky enough to grow up in a home with three women; my mother and two older sisters. Growing up with them gave me an enormous amount of respect for women, (even though I may have lost a certain amount of socially expected masculinity along the way), and their current lives continue to increase my respect for the opposite gender. My oldest sister is leaving to study abroad at Oxford in less than a week to major in philosophy. Philosophy. She also graduated high school with a 4.0 and was involved in power lifting competitions and is enlisted in ROTC. Simply put, she’s an animal. She’s worked hard her entire life and I’d hate to see a world that put that hard work to waste. My other sister is working three jobs to pay her way through college and is planning to major in psychology. I’m always envious of her work ethic and level of commitment to not only her education, but to her friends and family as well. My mother has been my backbone since I was a child. She was always the one I turned to in times of trouble, and continues to be. She works hard everyday, while going through mentally straining marriage problems, and comes home and still asks me about my day. She has given me nothing but unconditional love for my entire existence. For these reasons, it boggles my mind why anyone would ever be anti-feminism. I am genuinely confused as to why, because their bodies are different, women get less privileges, respect, opportunities, and even money. I just don’t get it. I am also disgusted that women are seen by most men as walking ****** organs. l will admit genuine guilt to using the number scale to “rate” women. It’s something I grew up with, but now it sickens me. Assigning a number to a woman based on your misguided views on how she should look, whether you would **** her, is something I find repulsive. There’s nothing wrong with admiring the opposite *** but no one gives a **** about your stupid opinion, especially the woman. I hope someday if I ever have a daughter that she will have the privilege of living in a country of gender equality, tolerance, and open-mindedness. Anyway, I just wanted to put my two cents in. I am a man. I am a feminist. Peace.
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15
Dancing under this beautiful moonlight My wings brought us high as the mountains could reach; Listening to the songs of the wind whispering in our ears; As the stars illuminated us with its light And through our hearts beats in unison Our love grew strong as time passed; For I looking in your ever green eyes shines Our memories, our histories of hardships Like raging waves of ocean's wrath upon us; Like you looking in my ever violet eyes Brings back memories of how we hold our hands Under those cherry blossoms in spring's time Of the time we survived the stormy seas; Of us looking up in the night's sky starry view And of us looking through our own breath in the winter's cold night Like you said "you are my darkness and i am your light" It is a fate of two lovely souls of opposites Truly one and extraordinary yet never old; Yet the story of our love was heard from the heavens and hell Eldest, my master, the God of Gods was disgraced; Hades, your father, the king of the underworld was disgusted; For I an angel, a guardian of Eldest's kingdom Fell in love with the darkness' son; Our love caused chaos and wrath in the heaven's peace; And made hell burn a thousand times its self in anger; Eldest, whom was displease, cast my death Upon my soul and separated us with his command Like I, a flower dying with its own roots Withered and had slowly losing its own life; Yet as we stand forth and supported each other Our hearts connected even after death's command As the reaper stand and awaits to take your soul, To take you back to the place you belong; There is nothing we could do but accept this inevitable As our beating crimson heart cries silently; For even the Wraths and the Gods do us apart Our fathers and masters hated this love; Like the night meets the light at dawn; Our souls will find its way back in each others arm; Even us can not cease this burning desire To never let go of our ties; In this world or in our illusions It is our story worth dying with; Even the history goes on, we shall live in eternity As the story of the night that meets the light at dawn.
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Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 6:28 AM UTC
The Night Meets the Light at Dawn
Dancing under this beautiful moonlight My wings brought us high as the mountains could reach; Listening to the songs of the wind whispering in our ears; As the stars illuminated us with its light And through our hearts beats in unison Our love grew strong as time passed; For I looking in your ever green eyes shines Our memories, our histories of hardships Like raging waves of ocean's wrath upon us; Like you looking in my ever violet eyes Brings back memories of how we hold our hands Under those cherry blossoms in spring's time Of the time we survived the stormy seas; Of us looking up in the night's sky starry view And of us looking through our own breath in the winter's cold night Like you said "you are my darkness and i am your light" It is a fate of two lovely souls of opposites Truly one and extraordinary yet never old; Yet the story of our love was heard from the heavens and hell Eldest, my master, the God of Gods was disgraced; Hades, your father, the king of the underworld was disgusted; For I an angel, a guardian of Eldest's kingdom Fell in love with the darkness' son; Our love caused chaos and wrath in the heaven's peace; And made hell burn a thousand times its self in anger; Eldest, whom was displease, cast my death Upon my soul and separated us with his command Like I, a flower dying with its own roots Withered and had slowly losing its own life; Yet as we stand forth and supported each other Our hearts connected even after death's command As the reaper stand and awaits to take your soul, To take you back to the place you belong; There is nothing we could do but accept this inevitable As our beating crimson heart cries silently; For even the Wraths and the Gods do us apart Our fathers and masters hated this love; Like the night meets the light at dawn; Our souls will find its way back in each others arm; Even us can not cease this burning desire To never let go of our ties; In this world or in our illusions It is our story worth dying with; Even the history goes on, we shall live in eternity As the story of the night that meets the light at dawn.
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45
there once was a young girl with green eyes who wore her soft blond hair in braided pigtails at the age of seven, she watched her older sister stand in front of the mirror before school and pinch her stomach with a disgusted face neither of them ate breakfast that morning at the age of nine, she watched her older brother make fun of a girl with glasses for reading on the bus she went home and hid all her books in the attic at the age of twelve, she watched the older girls at school with straight hair and short skirts put makeup on in the bathroom and discuss how boys would only like you if you looked perfect, like them the next day she arrived with red lips, short shorts, and no braided pigtails at the age of fourteen, she watched her father hit her mother for the first time her mother cried when she saw her standing in the doorway and told her daddy didn't mean it the next year, she told herself that her boyfriend didn't mean it, either at the age of sixteen, she was paper thin and empty with straight blond hair, red lips, purple flesh, and lifeless green eyes while staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, she thought to herself "at least i'm normal."
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May 10, 2013
May 10, 2013 at 12:54 PM UTC
"normal"
the girl staring back at me, standing tall trying to keep the tears back, as she stood disgusted with her body. she didn't have visible scars, she had mental scars. she covered her body as much as she could so that no one could see , she believed she was overweight, she didn't tell anyone that she starved herself or that she throw up to make it go away, because she keeps her secrets locked away for no body to see.
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Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 7:48 PM UTC
unhappy with myself.
What has become of me? I've turned into such a reprobate. Watching **** and neglecting writing. I think of Nin and Henry Miller, turning lust and clitoral stimulation into ****** literature. And here I am... *** stains on my laptop, and looking sadly at the miniature bust of Shakespeare on my writing desk. Even he looks disgusted.
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Feb 12, 2022
Feb 12, 2022 at 7:52 AM UTC
Shakespeare won't Look at Me
Right now I’m struggling with my weight I honestly hate how I look I’m always comparing myself to other girls to the point my feelings get hurt I don’t have a thigh gap my ***** are really huge my stomach sticks out when I sit then hangs when I stand I can’t wear a pair of jeans without looking like a whale Sometimes I wish I could cut off my fat so I can be happy with what I see I wish I looked like the skinny girls you see all over Tumblr I sit in the shower and cry as I tear myself down for an hour I feel like everyone is disgusted with me whenever I go out in public I feel so huge next to anyone so I perfer to stand by myself I wish this battle with myself would end I hate hiding my body I just wish I was tiny like other girls so I can stop disgusting everybody
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Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 8:34 PM UTC
I Hate My Body
I'm so grateful I could die And then I'd be the Grateful Dead For every Touch of Grey You erase And paint intricate beauty I cannot equivocate The enigma of your mind Matches the confusion in my heart What's the point of talking to someone if you know what they're thinking? I enjoy the intense haze Of your rearranging maze It's complexity fascinates me Some of my favorite moments are when I laugh hysterically as the tears fall down And you're there To hit my waterfall with your lightning My emotions get so charged As you pump electricity into my current Making you the conductor On this lifelong train ride That's definitely been through some valleys and tunnels But as we continue to scale this mountain Negative thoughts can creep in I wonder if you're disgusted by me Or what you'd call me if you hated me And as the tears fall down I look to the heavens And laugh hysterically Thanking God I don't have to live in a world like that I'm so ******* grateful
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Jun 3, 2017
Jun 3, 2017 at 11:48 PM UTC
Grateful
Let me apologize, to begin with because of my body type. I will NEVER be good enough for anyone to date due to current 'hype.' You know, the battle of 'bones' vs curves? Just let me inflate myself to the right number so I can properly serve As the perfect specimen for your delicate eyes. Obviously no one is good enough unless they've got decent thighs. But just wait a god **** minute, because here I am again: So let me apologize, to begin with, if I offend You or your friends who think they're too good To date someone larger, with some extra love under the hood. How many times have I heard you exclaim in disgust Of how large she is and how you'd drown in her bust If you even got near her? I saw you shaking in fear. From your head to your toes, you were trembling dear. See I'm told to eat more and maybe, just maybe, At the end of the night I'll be the one you call baby. But if I was larger, and let's tell the truth, You'd be so disgusted by my 'sweet tooth.' I could eat an elephant and never gain a pound, She could eat a salad and the crunch is the only sound You hear a mile away and yet you would assume That burgers and French fries is all that she consumed. Do you ever stop to think, ladies and gents? The true beauty of someone isn't based on the number on their pants. So, let me apologize, to begin with, If I bruise your massive ego, But the way to tell if she's the perfect woman is not by your libido.
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Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 12:25 AM UTC
To Begin With
Picketed, another generation pushing for advancement in the age of reason, Logical, radical movement Trying for less invasive measures of medication To take the blinders off the prejudice of non-conformity and reach the masses A promise to ease the pain, promote healing, the overall good Met with violence, verbal slander, from mommies and daddies afraid of a world outside their white fence, Fearing independence, the expansion of the mind, an openness in their youth to allow radical change. The bloated belt bent backwards, white collar replaced by hedonistic practical libertarians in pursuit of happiness for all Sick, disgusted with the man, the one behind the podium whom allows for this animosity on a group that did everything right, legally sound Tired of hearing the whispers across a university, the hopeful gushing’s of elated individuals bright- eyes naive Of a system that won’t allow something this controversial into the public, afraid to lose their hold on a potential capitol On something that should be as easy to find in a free market as Captain Crunch, Coca-Cola, and Rice Krispy Treats. Grinding down, fluffy-green-crystal bud Dank yellow smoke smoldering out of pipes end, seeping out of closed lips billowing out of nostrils Dragon fire down a throat coated with a week worth of soot, and experience Choking, coughing, laughing away the misery The disappointment in her fellow man to refuse to even consider the validity of a proven product Knowing that if it was anything else a miracle drug composed of fairy dust, unicorn hair and the ***** of a thousand angels; approval would have been immediate. Whip lash. Flick, flame, fumigating Baking myself into a calmer state, watching with ****** off grace Twitching with the need to take action To control this negative reaction, to slap the of face limp **** conservatives So consumed with themselves, blind to the pain of people who have lost hope in other forms of relief Alternative therapy shut off by a system obsessed with its war on drugs.
0
Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 12:13 PM UTC
Ballot? What Ballot?
Picketed, another generation pushing for advancement in the age of reason, Logical, radical movement Trying for less invasive measures of medication To take the blinders off the prejudice of non-conformity and reach the masses A promise to ease the pain, promote healing, the overall good Met with violence, verbal slander, from mommies and daddies afraid of a world outside their white fence, Fearing independence, the expansion of the mind, an openness in their youth to allow radical change. The bloated belt bent backwards, white collar replaced by hedonistic practical libertarians in pursuit of happiness for all Sick, disgusted with the man, the one behind the podium whom allows for this animosity on a group that did everything right, legally sound Tired of hearing the whispers across a university, the hopeful gushing’s of elated individuals bright- eyes naive Of a system that won’t allow something this controversial into the public, afraid to lose their hold on a potential capitol On something that should be as easy to find in a free market as Captain Crunch, Coca-Cola, and Rice Krispy Treats. Grinding down, fluffy-green-crystal bud Dank yellow smoke smoldering out of pipes end, seeping out of closed lips billowing out of nostrils Dragon fire down a throat coated with a week worth of soot, and experience Choking, coughing, laughing away the misery The disappointment in her fellow man to refuse to even consider the validity of a proven product Knowing that if it was anything else a miracle drug composed of fairy dust, unicorn hair and the ***** of a thousand angels; approval would have been immediate. Whip lash. Flick, flame, fumigating Baking myself into a calmer state, watching with ****** off grace Twitching with the need to take action To control this negative reaction, to slap the of face limp **** conservatives So consumed with themselves, blind to the pain of people who have lost hope in other forms of relief Alternative therapy shut off by a system obsessed with its war on drugs.
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Being molested as a child Is something so digusting, Knowing my mother knew And told me never to say anything and kept herself quiet, Makes me grow more anger against her Makes me want to wish her the worst Like i do for that molester, Hate the fact that now that i had the courage of speaking up, No one in my family had my back, I feel so sad and alone, Because i notice that the family i had Was not a family at all, I wish they were all in my shoes And feel the way i do See things through my eyes And see the scars he left behind, Wish they felt the way i do at times. Where i feel my body disgusted And cant be touched, Wish they would go through what i go through Where i cant let my partner love me The way i wish i could be love, When my partner touches me I feel used I get this ***** feeling And start feeling blue. It hurts me to know that once i told who i thought was my sister, What her husband had done to me Her response was "it is what it is." From that moment on, that sister died And was erase from my life, I hate anything that has to do with them I cant even stand hearing their names, Honestly i hope you guys the worst And dont judge me for i am who i am thanks to this monsters that i had to be raised by Im just glad i have part myself away, Because i dont want my kids to go through what i did. I will always speak for them For i dont want to be that monster That never did anything.
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Jul 14, 2016
Jul 14, 2016 at 7:55 PM UTC
Molested
An imaginary but desirable sense of control Created by the bully in my head Screaming at me, pressuring me, hurting me Encapsulating my mind as a second meninges. Impossible to separate my true thoughts From what it tells me, My conscious mind is tied to a cinder block And left to drown in its enticingly rough waves. My physical being constantly changing with the tide Unpredictable but regular, Shallow but deep. ****** into its infinite black hole, I am left feeling disgusted and ashamed Of all that is me. No longer am I able to decide the way in which My needs are met-if in fact they are met. As though I have DID, I am constantly bouncing From alter to alter Body to body. Blinded from looking directly into its sun, I am warmed and comforted by its rays While reassured that my doubts are unwarranted. If ever defied, it scolds and whips me, Like a master to his slave, A father to his child. The welts and cuts, gratefully rip into my Skin, muscle and bone – Punishment for my wrongdoings and self. I, immediately silenced Remove myself from society, Restricting contact, nourishment and emotions To nil. It is not until someone notices The beginnings of an eternal invisibility, That I am released and Able to breathe in The salty air of life.
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Jun 20, 2012
Jun 20, 2012 at 9:29 PM UTC
An Eating Disorder Defined
I was is in second grade when Emily told me "if you where born a few years back you'd be a slave" As if I hadn't looked in the mirror latley. Oh how it felt to be the only brown girl in a white school Minority Misinterpretation. A maybe Is what I was An outcast 4th grade I visit my father and his family My grandmother and aunt whisper,"Gringa" laugh laugh "Sangrona" laugh laugh My mother hispanic and my father Mexican 6th grade My best friend is disgusted because I define as Mexican yet can't seem to speak perfect Spanish 9th grade I learned that bi racially I am a mut, As if I don't have enough labels already I must prove to my friends I am white, yet hispanic to my family My second aunts snicker at my broken Spanish No need to gain their validity They can't believe my mother raised me away from their culture Despair fills their eyes as labels blur mine Must I prove myself every time? What if I'm not either or? Nor a mix Nor white Nor hispanic Nor mexican Nor latina Nor bi racial Nor sangrona I don't seek your validation but your understanding I'm not a unique exhibit Only a 16 year old girl dealing with teenage drama and high school studies A dreamer at heart An artist who loves to show it I have a name I'm more than my skin color Or that of my mother's & father's. If I'm ever asked to prove myself I will answer with only "I am already proven
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Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 11:36 PM UTC
Proven