"disgustingly" poems
I'm the epitome of unattractive
The definition of ugly
I have a round stomach
My legs touch
My **** sag
My hair is thin and frail
My teeth aren't pearly white
I'm pale and my eyes are shallow
Brown with no depth or color
*** is an impossible task
When there is so much fat
Separating my body from the other
*** is an impossible task
When I'm only thinking about my body
Rather than feeling the passion and heat
*** is an impossible task
When I won't allow anybody to see me
A terribly ugly body resides
Underneath the loose jeans
And oversized shirts
I'm the epitome of unattractive
I'm more than just ugly
I'm more than just fat
I'm morbidly obese
I'm disgustingly put together
Nobody could want me
There is no question
Only an answer
The answer is no
No, I am not wanted
No, I am not desired
No, I am not beautiful
No, I will never be ****
I'm the epitome of unattractive
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 1:57 PM UTC
At evening, sitting on this terrace,
When the sun from the west, beyond Pisa, beyond the mountains of Carrara
Departs, and the world is taken by surprise ...
When the tired flower of Florence is in gloom beneath the glowing
Brown hills surrounding ...
When under the arches of the Ponte Vecchio
A green light enters against stream, flush from the west,
Against the current of obscure Arno ...
Look up, and you see things flying
Between the day and the night;
Swallows with spools of dark thread sewing the shadows together.
A circle swoop, and a quick parabola under the bridge arches
Where light pushes through;
A sudden turning upon itself of a thing in the air.
A dip to the water.
And you think:
"The swallows are flying so late!"
Swallows?
Dark air-life looping
Yet missing the pure loop ...
A twitch, a twitter, an elastic shudder in flight
And serrated wings against the sky,
Like a glove, a black glove thrown up at the light,
And falling back.
Never swallows!
Bats!
The swallows are gone.
At a wavering instant the swallows gave way to bats
By the Ponte Vecchio ...
Changing guard.
Bats, and an uneasy creeping in one's scalp
As the bats swoop overhead!
Flying madly.
Pipistrello!
Black piper on an infinitesimal pipe.
Little lumps that fly in air and have voices indefinite, wildly vindictive;
Wings like bits of umbrella.
Bats!
Creatures that hang themselves up like an old rag, to sleep;
And disgustingly upside down.
Hanging upside down like rows of disgusting old rags
And grinning in their sleep.
Bats!
Not for me!
5.4k
Mythical.
The artist is an old one,
Un-earthly and infinite,
Vast as heaven and the void,
The limitations of good and evil,
I am immune, yet soul crushingly bound to its power,
I am a toothpick,
Yet I am useful for now,
As I plan my escape,
Writing an endless map in memo pads and text files,
I tell myself it will someday be worth the while.
The artist is like you, reader,
The artist is ugly, disgustingly so.
The artist is beautiful, and puts me to shame.
The artist could burn the world with a thought,
But couldn’t break its teeth with a diamond,
No matter how hard it tried.
The artist is fictional,
Contextual,
Known only to I,
Especially as the artist.
I bet its laughing at me this second,
My feeble attempts to escape a napkin,
A tool to further other means.
I don’t mind it,
In fact, it’s rewarding in a way,
The artist lacks definition,
But moves with a sway,
It is hard to defend.
[(Impossible to define)]
My role is that of a journal of skin,
A memory bank to which it is akin,
But my limit is reached,
Something has come to a head,
I can feel the artist defined…
It has taken form,
And now,
Unfortunately,
Dead.
Sunburst
I wanted to ask it what it was thinking,
But I think I know now;
Bad things.
Dec 25, 2012
Dec 25, 2012 at 2:15 AM UTC
This bakery sounds like couples cooing at each other from opposite ends of the booth
Giggling like no one else sees they're playing footsies under the table
And coffee they've let go cold because no one orders hot, black coffee at five pm in this Arizona heat.
It sounds like cookies taunting the diabetic who really did come in for the salads
And the free wifi, of course.
It sounds disgustingly like the same song I've played on repeat for the past three hours
Contemplating what I want to write about tonight.
But not really contemplating
More like wishing that on the walk to this bakery that's stuck on the corner of a straight road
I'd thrown you to the ground and punched you in the face
For all the wrongs you've done and all the wrongs you're going to do.
But your apathy threw me off, and I kept walking in silence.
Wishing I could have the beach's sands, the mountain's bending rivers,
And that I could run away from here.
This bakery sounds like noise, and sometimes noise is tolerable.
At least noise is better than apathy.
Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 8:41 PM UTC
To all those people out there
who try to tell me how to run my life
I turn my back to you
I will stand my ground
I pay my bills on time,
I buy the things I need
Female products, shampoo,
razers, tooth brush, ect
SO WHO CARES HOW I SPEND MY EXTRA MONEY???
Yes I know I'm slightly obbsessed with Avengers
and I buy everything in sight that has to do with them.
BUT HEY I DO IT WITH THINGS I NEED!!!!
I needed a new bedset, my old one getting disgustingly ratty
There just so happened to be an avengers one
I needed a new bath towel,
Hey Look a cheap *** Avengers one!!!!
I needed shampoo
I found a three in one
shampoo, conditioner, body wash
3 buck! AVENGERS!!!
Sorely needed a new tooth brush
Dollar tree, Spiderman!!!!
So you see
even as I splurge
I'm doing it smartly
So to all those haters out there!
GET THE **** OFF MY BACK!!!
ITS MY LIFE
AND I WILL LIVE AND SPEND IT
HOW EVER I ******* WANT!!!!!!!!!!!
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 11:48 AM UTC
I Hate You, My Love
No longer together, in a world of madness;
Just sat alone, in my world of sadness.
So come with me, on this journey through life;
I'll enlighten your eyes and I'll open you mind.
Open your mind,
Open your mind,
Open your mind, to another kind.
Something new, old, bluesy or rocking;
Musically free, from you becoming damning.
Criticisms needed, if your work is wrong;
But you’re perfection in a glass, so I wrote you a poem.
Softly bang your head and break your neck;
Live a life of missed opportunities, but have no regrets.
Hold me in your arms, because I've become contagious;
Come die with me…nobody can save us.
And save us from what? This living Hell?
Your perfumed body has begun to smell.
No longer the fresh smelling roses from Heaven;
You’re disgustingly ***** since you let me in.
No longer a ****** do you think they can tell?
Your mothers lead you to believe, you’re condemned to Hell.
I see through your eyes, as you describe what you see;
You've now become a part of me
And now I've let you, smoke my ****
I've now shown you, all I need.
Everyday I'll write you a song;
Everyday the words will be wrong.
Everyday you'll see that you hate me;
Everyday we'll disagree.
Everyday I'll want to **** you;
Everyday you will **** me.
Everyday is a whole new day;
And everyday is wrong for me.
Everyday I kiss you with passion;
Everyday I get satisfaction.
Everyday we drift apart;
Everyday you break my heart.
Everyday I **** myself
And everyday I need your help.
Everyday you must die with me;
Everyday we must both believe.
So everyday let's both fall to the ground
And everyday the lyrics will crumble down.
Ashes to ashes and blunts to blunts;
Come die with me ***** you ******* ****
I love you dearly, but I hate your guts;
You drive me crazy. Completely nuts!
I'll love you forever, until I don't;
This is my suicide letter, now I have to go.
**** it I didn't go through with the plan;
Because of you ***** you held my hand
And told me that you understand
And told me that I'm your only man.
Can you not see how much I hate you?
Can you not see how much you hate me?
Why don't you believe, what I say is true?
Why are you here, when I told you to leave?
You’re a punk rocking beauty, but completely false.
You’re a grunge kissing psychopath, that I completely love.
I have to say I hate you, so I don't feel we’re too close;
But promise me Angel, you will never go.
(C)2005 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Sep 20, 2018
Sep 20, 2018 at 10:01 AM UTC
Stuck.
You're stuck.
So that must mean I am too.
I don't want to be stuck.
My love for you grows
More and more each day.
But I can never stay stuck.
Stuck.
I was stuck.
Long before I met you.
I didn't want to be stuck then,
And I don't now.
Trapped within a
Disgustingly thick, slimy stuck
I worked my way deep in to find
Nothing but more unruly muck.
Stuck.
I'm only halfway stuck.
But you're all the way stuck.
I'm not going back in.
I'll suffocate again,
Lose myself and become
The demon that attaches to
My weakening soul like
The grotesque parasite it is.
You can stay stuck all you want
But you'll never find me down there
While you wallow around in your
Muddled conceptions of yourself.
Stuck.
Yeah, right.
But I'll be here
At the edge of the muck
Waiting to help you out
When you get unstuck.
Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 11:22 PM UTC
You aren’t broken, I am
I am flawed
I am malfunctioning
I am defective, ugly, wrong
I am mean, beyond repair
Disgustingly bitter, like licking the outside of an orange,
Disguised as a tempting delicious throbbing fruit of life.
But in reality, I am insufficient, innutritious,
A casualty no one wants to carry
But I am so afraid that one day you will see
This unfixable imperfection that is me
And you will leave.
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 10:54 AM UTC
Covered in darkness wearing a veil of evil the bride stands before her groom and a group of vile wedding guests waiting to be joined in matrimony. The heat and hate that filled the air was so thick that they all choked on it. Lust the biggest **** ever getting married to Greed had everyone baffled and amazed. Everyone watched with confusion as a union of sin was joined in unholy matrimony.
Pride the priest took the left hand of Lust and puts it in the left hand of Greed then he took tthe right hand of Greed and puts it in the right hand of Lust and began the ceremony. The words that flowed from the mouth of Pride the priest cut through the air like swords cutting through flesh.
"Disgustingly wicked we have come together in the presences of demonic forces to behold the joining of this devil and **** in unholy matrimony. This band and covenant of marriage was established by evil in darkness. Lust will you have Greed to be your husband to live together in the covenant of marriage? Will you obey him, lay with him, and fulfill his ****** desires as long as you both shall live?"
With the flames of hell burning in her eyes Lust answers "I will."
Pride looked at Greed and said "Greed will you have Lust to be your wife to live together in the covenant of marriage? Will you supply and adorn her with riches as long as you both shall live?" with a twinkle in his eyes that sparkle like gold Greed answers "I will."
"By the powers invested in evil the groom and bride may kiss" said Pride. As Greed and Lust's lips touched their wedding guests were as silent as a corpse. Lust turned her back to the wedding guests and threw a bouquet of Poison Ivy over her head. Envy stepped in front of Sloth and snatched the bouquet out of the air.
"Nice catch Envy" said Sloth with slow slurred speech. "Thank you Envy and I do believe green is more my color" said Envy. Lust turned around to see who caught the bouquet. She wasn't a bit surprised to see Envy holding the Poison Ivy. "Well Envy I guess you're next to be wedded off" stated Lust.
Pride motions for Hatred to release the Owls. Hatred unlocked the huge cage and released the Owls. Slow to take flight the great Owls flapped their wings and ascended into the darkness. "Lets get this party started" yelled Greed. As the sins partied the night away in the country Darkness the sun came rising in the country Tranquility.
"Are you ready to spend all eternity together? " Loyalty asked Love as they stood on their balcony. "My dear, dear, husband soon to be you already know the answer to the question you ask" said Love. As Loyalty and Love stood locked in a warming embrace being kissed by the rays of the sun the two share a kiss of their own.
Written by Keith Edward Baucum
Sep 1, 2016
Sep 1, 2016 at 7:57 PM UTC
I am terribly sorry that I ran into you. I can see that you are a bit puzzled because you think that you know me. Perhaps we have met a time or two or maybe every holiday last year, but I don’t blame you for forgetting. You see, I have changed…quite a bit and I can tell that you are very confused. It’s not the way you are looking at me or the way that I am looking at you, or the way that you are looking at me looking at you or the way that I am looking at you looking at me. Wait, why are you looking at me? Oh yeah, you are probably wondering whether or not to ask me if I am that sweet little innocent queer barista at the nearby coffee shop down the street or the ****** up **** that your daughter so disgustingly fell in love with during her crazy high school phase. Yeah… that may or may not have been me. You know, you might want to tell your daughter to call me because she left some things at my house and I have been trying to get them back to her for years now.
Oh uh…Who am I you ask? It seems that you still aren’t following me. I mean my identity means nothing to you…or at least it shouldn’t, but I will try to enlighten in the best way that I can. You see, my identity has always been the person that you see before you. It’s just that for most of his life, he was trapped under the softly sweet smelling perfumes and make up that tortured him for a good solid 15 years. His identity masked from everyone around him. The man you see before you is indeed the imaginary boyfriend that your daughter claimed to have all those years of middle school because she refused to bring him home for fear that her parents would call her a lesbian. He may or may not also be the **** that you refused to acknowledge every night at dinner on every freaking holiday he was at your house every year during high school; Your daughter’s Lesbian friend that was conjoined to her hip 24/7. Little did you know, I was the boy she wanted to marry, the one and only person she ever felt loved her. He hid in plain sight for several years. Yet you never noticed. That is, until the night you caught us.
You see, I am not the Lesbian that converted your daughter. Or even the **** that ruined her life. I am the boy who has always been by her side through everything. The man who promised to forever remain by her side, through whatever life tossed her way. I fell in love with her on the first day of 6th grade and I haven’t stopped loving her since. She will forever be the love of my life and….Wait why are you crying? I have some news that might cheer you up. You know that sweet boy that your daughter has been seeing, who she has refuses to bring to dinner? Yeah…you may or may not be looking at him. Let me introduce myself, I’m Aimes.
Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 10:05 PM UTC
You reached my heart
Much like a worm
Crawled through inches
Of insecurity and flesh
Till you reached that
Precious pink sac
You stuffed it full with your
Disgustingly masculine company
Slimy wiles and wriggly larva
The size of my thumbs
Then once I was
Suitably contaminated
You pierced it
Without a drop of remorse
Maggots and sludge
Emotions and memories
Burst and
Spatter across
My ******* and neck
You made your presence
Well known in my
Dying and infected carcass
Aug 14, 2012
Aug 14, 2012 at 6:46 PM UTC
In all honesty
I am not sure
What would form
My perfect society
If I were to say that everyone
Would get along
It'd be too cliche
Too stupid and mindless
Lacking elegance
I do believe it'd be nice
If everyone got along
That isn't my issue
It's just that it is unimaginable
The very idea that each and every
Single loony, ***** ******** person
Can get along is so disgustingly absurd
That it makes me want to throw up on the person that says
"Can't we all just get along?"
No! No we can't you idiot
We can't get along because that is not how the world works
I'm not going to baby you with some philosophical ******** as to why
But I'll put it straight
We don't have it together
Us as humans don't have it together
We will never get along
Never be in peace
Unless we get it together
We humans will never get it together
It is impossible because failure
Is in our nature
Does that mean that we should give up?
No but perhaps learning that us humans
Can't do it alone is something that we can learn
The idea of my perfect society
Is nonexistent in practical terms
It is a mere wish of what any other
Good person would want the world to be
It is unattainable though without a miracle
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 11:31 PM UTC
I am sorry if I'm just a mediocre
for not being good enough
in everything
I am sorry if all I could do is whine
crying out like a swine
how imperfect the world can be
I am sorry if I'm not beautiful
if I'm not friendly
if I'm messy, stupid,
insolent, sensitive, and grumpy
I am sorry for being so quiet
that it makes the air awkward
for being a sickly *******
or when I sometimes talk a lot
as if I know everything
I'm sorry if I sometimes feel special
like a protagonist of some story
looking at everyone with scornful eyes
for being so disgustingly melodramatic
for always making excuses
for piling lies on top of lies, on top of lies
or for not even trying
to make these ****** words rhyme
I am sorry for being so hard to like
let alone, to love
and if I ever made you frown
of any of the above
or simply of my existence
know that I am deeply,
truly, and terribly sorry.
Mar 18, 2017
Mar 18, 2017 at 8:30 AM UTC
and this
I suppose,
is the life I'm living;
bundled up,
walking through the snow
with a hundred and two fever.
handling money
all day,
more and more and more money:
never enough.
taking money from those with too much,
giving it in turn to those with disgustingly too much.
alienated, dehumanized,
I work for those who think of me as a number. 60 hours a week,
I sweat and sweat,
selling a product I could never afford.
alienated and dehumanized;
I toil.
there is no pride.
my eyes: they no longer sparkle.
there is no pride,
there is no relationship with my product.
there is no pride in barely affording rent.
there is no pride in not being able to visit the health clinic.
there is no pride in being exploited.
go ahead, vamanos comradita,
speak out against, you know the worst they can do.
add a black mark next to your name,
call you:
radical,
dissident,
extremist,
in a word: othering
you are othered because you wish to eat the fruits of your toil.
you are othered because you're a human, you're not a number,
you're not a spot to be filled when scheduling, you're more than the recipient of corporate pay checks.
toil, toil comraditas,
there will one day be pride
Jan 4, 2017
Jan 4, 2017 at 1:25 PM UTC
I sit disgustingly high on my throne
Looking down at those who don't share the same pigment
A sliver plate was placed in front of me at birth
On it had everything i’d ever need
Financial stability, a house, clothes
Food, parents, education, safety
My heart pumps nothing but racism through my veins
An artery of cruelty and death
I strongly believe that ‘diversity’ equals white genocide
More of them means
Less attention on me
Confederate flags litter my house
My car, my clothes
A simple reminder of the good ol’ days
Kicking them, Kidnapping them, Killing them
My life is now
Being waited on hand and foot
My every move watched
My every need taken care of
My husband
As rich and powerful as he is
Through his fragile and egotistical nature
Shows no mercy to me and my kids
I will never struggle to provide for my family
I started my life on the top of the ladder
For my skin is my privilege
Someone is lying….
If i showed you a mere glimpse of my life
And the world’s nearly unbearable
Weight on me
Would you believe it?
I carry a list of illnesses from A to Z
A suicidal uncle who no longer shares
the same air as me
Colour, race, and religion
Hold no limitations to my pain
The day in ,the day out
Cold, Suffering
I will not be constricted to
the rules set on whites
By whites
I am defined by my actions
I stand before you as I am
I am well read and independant
Fiery and calm
I walk my path with integrity pulling my head high
And shoulders back strong
I am made from my experiences
I am not constrained to my personal history
I was taught this social cancer
But surely, this can always be forgotten
For my skin is my privilege
And my privilege is being me
Jan 18, 2018
Jan 18, 2018 at 9:40 PM UTC
The bride stood before her groom and a group of vile wedding guests covered in darkness wearing a veil of evil waiting to be joined in unholy matrimony. The heat and hate that filled the air was so thick that they all choked on it. Lust the biggest **** ever getting married to Greed had every one baffled and amazed. Everyone watched with confusion as a union of sin was joined in unholy matrimony.
Pride the priest took the left hand of Lust and puts it in the left hand of Greed then he took the right hand of Greed and puts it in the right hand of Lust and began the ceremony. The words that flowed from the mouth of Pride the priest cut through the air like swords cutting through flesh.
"Disgustingly wicked we have come together in the presences of demonic forces to behold the joining of this devil and **** in unholy matrimony. This band and covenant of marriage was established by evil in darkness. Lust will you have Greed to be your husband to live together in the covenant of marriage? Will you obey him, lay with him, and fulfill his ****** desires as long as you both shall live?"
With the flames of hell burning in her eyes Lust answers "I will."
Pride looked at Greed and said
"Greed will you have Lust to be your wife to live together in the covenant of marriage? Will you supply and adorn her with riches as long as you both shall live?"
With a twinkle in his eyes that sparkles like gold Greed answers "I will."
"By the powers invested in evil the groom and bride may kiss" said Pride.
As Greed and Lusts's lips touched their wedding guests were as silent as a corpse. Lust turned her back to her wedding guests and threw a bouquet of Poison Ivy over her head. Envy stepped in front of Sloth and snatched the bouquet of Poison Ivy out the air.
"Nice catch Envy" said Sloth with slow, slurred, speech.
"Thank you Sloth and I do believe green is more my color" said Envy.
Lust turned around to see who caught the bouquet. She wasn't a bit surprised to see Envy holding the bouquet of Poison Ivy.
"Well Envy I guess you're next to get married" stated Lust.
Pride motions for Hatred to release the Owls. Hatred unlocked the huge cage and released the Olws. Slow to take flight the great Owls flapped their wings and ascended into the darkness.
"Let's get this party started" yelled Greed.
As the sins partied the night away in the country Darkness the sun came rising in the country Tranquility.
"Are you ready to spend all eternity together?" Loyalty asked Love as they stood on their balcony.
"My dear, dear, husband soon to be you already know the answer to the question you ask" said Love.
As Loyalty and Love stood locked in a warming embrace being kissed by the rays of sun the two share a kiss of their own.
Written by Keith Edward Baucum
Sep 27, 2017
Sep 27, 2017 at 2:43 PM UTC
We are rotten now.
You are rotten, moldy, putrid with disease.
I'll separate my pristine state from you.
Get the **** away from me.
You are rotten now.
You are contagiously, disgustingly rotten.
I'll pretend there's still some use in you,
Throw you in the compost, forgotten.
You are a memory.
Overripe, painful, noxious.
You were a part of me.
Infecting, stinking, rancid.
This is my goodbye to you
This is the routine compost.
This is how I say, "We're through,"
This is how I let you go.
Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 7:55 PM UTC
Your feeble mind
It twists your words up, intertwined
You lie like its the truth
Your an artist when it comes to being sleuth
You complain for a lack of communication
But you listen like the deaf
And lead like the blind
You can't understand
You got ****** up in the mind
You've got nothing else
To defend is all you have
Your absolutely empty
And its so disgustingly sad
Tricks and wicked games
Are the battles you choose to play
Its as if you woke up
Said, **** the world, I win today
But today is not your day to win
You can **** the world
But I've caught new wind
Listen up, I'll say it once
You can ***** the others
But I've found new stance
Feb 28, 2012
Feb 28, 2012 at 6:05 PM UTC
this is a poem about love,
not boys, for once, or lesbians –
but roomie love.
my roommate is my other half,
like when we were little and chewed halves of gummy bears to make two-flavored ones with different colored heads and feet.
3:30 am on a Monday night,
all of our classes the next day, no homework done –
who else will stay up with me to read over each other’s oldest emails,
all disgustingly useless,
all marked as “sent with high importance”
who else will write poetry with me in the looming shadow of Chemistry tests
help keep the Spring terms exams and US History APs at bay
with jokes that aren’t funny but I laugh at anyways
because you are stupid and you think they are –
and everybody in the dorm thinks
we are insane, but that’s okay with me because we have
enough inside jokes to live on for a year
and
each other
Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 12:40 PM UTC
I ponder of something great on a sonderous level can a man a sentient being ever exist like an omnipotent being
am I just a subsidized being is the vanity of a self-absorbed world
the pneumatic indifferent fascist question my legitimacy so I question the society of a world more cold and more active than an incestuous birdy and the bee
They question an artesian hand slightly smaller than the average man yet the
significance of the difference in that artesian is not the manic who refused me
embarrassed me
rumored me
****** me to a dark inexsistant inbetween
the coldness of a lover never to be
because she is in league but out of reach
like a lion her simple minded pedagogy has left her to everything and everyone
as she is not mine and I am not hers just the birdy and the defective bee
a farce love story the ending of a never beginning trip why o so dramatic
because I just can’t help falling in love with one
a selfish self absorbed vanity in a repugnant world disgustingly this pedagogy stays to me like glue on this dying bee
this is true of our starcrossed unrequited drug induced comatose that put me into this ponderous level
the inevitability of what truly will never be yet for some reason these
sounderously significantly radical thought I ponder just like a pneumatic bot
have you ever felt this lost
this cold dark nonexistent in-between
a limbless sentient rushed in the ever invoking might of hysteric emotion
I ponder this cold and warming toiling notion
The one like a lion can you and will you requite and love me
Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 8:44 PM UTC
Before I knew that I could fall in love with another boy,
I had already had those feelings stolen out from underneath my feet
50 years old cold and old with a lust for blood,
and innocence,
At 16 years old there wasn’t even a whole lotta innocence left in him,
But he worked and moved in places that felt like dark alleyways,
and promises that seemed too good to be able to break,
The way his tongue slithered out from underneath the church pews,
looking to lap up whatever he seemed to have missed from his youth
I remember the first time I went to therapy,
the way that my therapist kept asking me if I was confused about my sexuality,
It shouldn’t have started like that
Wrinkly, angry, and full of adrenaline, young in the head and sick in his veins,
He liked to touch them,
He liked to hold them,
His eyes always matching theirs,
he made it perfectly clear that he’s not looking for a fight,
he’s already fighting,
and he knows he’s going to win
I’m not a religious person, but I believe the devil comes to all of us in different ways,
Sometimes beautiful and forgivable,
Other times in a black t shirt and a pair of nikes, disgustingly promising,
a place to make you feel comfortable
We let so many people use our bodies to prove their points, it’s so exhausting,
I can’t tell the difference anymore between wolves and sheep,
But I know that he’s a wolf,
And I know that no one listens to a boy who cries ****
And the blood is always going to be there,
The alcoholic breaths taken deep into lungs that promise to carry on, are always going to be there,
The hatred and phobia of old men with mustaches and eyes that look just a little too inviting,
is always going to be there
Your Innocence is always going to be there, just don’t let anyone convince you that they can steal it from you
We are more than their torn muscles and “really, I’m a nice guy”s,
More than their “I’ve never done this before”s,
More than their “You don’t have to mention this to anyone”s,
More than what we think we deserve,
More than what love used to mean to us
We don’t have to love like that anymore,
Our bodies are new,
Not used anymore, but brand new,
We just have to teach our bones how to use the beautiful new skin that they’ve worked hard for
So to the man who taught me how to love myself,
You are nothing more than a distant memory I’ll continue to pack into the bag of luggage I carry and unload when I need to remind myself that I am more than whatever you made me think I was
I forgive you, but only because I forgive myself
May 23, 2018
May 23, 2018 at 11:13 PM UTC
Oh my self-loathing is disgustingly indulgent, It destroys my health
I wallow with glee for hours in the pits of my own self-hatred
Everything I do say and see I use as ammo in an endless war against myself
Repulsive, ********
Excentric , erratic
Shy, fake, problematic
I wish I had a plug hole
In the soupy head of mine
That I could just pull out
And all the darkness would go down the drain and I’d be fine
But my fansty world turns on me
And casts shadows on others
I don’t see them in their true light
As my fellow sisters and brothers
By day the world grinds in my head
An endless mill of screams
By night by actions haunt me
In rancid vivid dreams
This assemblage of stupid attributes that is me
Follows this girl around relentlessly
Too fixated on yourself, you selfish *****
You hate everyone else and make them a demon or a witch
This demon lives inside the gray matter that is your brain
It turns any sunny day into melancholic rain
I will live alone with no comfort but my own insanity
I see those on the streets who do the same and fear that destiny
After all,
Is madness not a sane response to the collective psychosis that is society?
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 3:50 AM UTC
From the fourth floor of my nineteen-story house, I peek out of the tinted windows. These are my only windows to whatever is outside, and they're tinted yellow and black. I am the first person on the moon. I am the first person on the edge of the planet. Will I fall off, or am I bold enough to carry on?
That, I think, is what has been bothering me for so long. I do not live in a nineteen-story house and neither am I peeking through yellow-and-black windows. No, these colors do not have any significance either. They are not symbols or metaphors. I have been making everything up as I hammer my fingers onto the keyboard and weave these unfathomable lines of thoughts. I am not the first person on the moon. I am not the first person on the edge of the planet. In fact, there isn't even an edge. I am an insignificant speck of dust. I am not even Horton's Who.
I just counted the number of 'I's in the first two paragraphs- fifteen. Fifteen of the same alphabet repeated throughout. That is, despite whatever you might say, a bad start to an essay (if you'd call this one). "Of course not, repetition is an important literary device!", you might say. Horseshit, I say. These words have no intrinsic meaning. These horribly structured sentences are disgustingly unfathomable. That's the second time I've said 'unfathomable'. Third. My 9-year old sister writes better than I do: "Today, I woke up. Today, I ate breakfast. Today, I horsed around with my dog. I am very happy. I am not hungry, because I ate today. Today, I ate." You can understand what she's saying- she woke up, she ate, she's not hungry, and she's happy. But what of me? I woke up, but just so. I ate and so I'm not hungry, but just so. I am happy, and yet I am not. These words that I write mean nothing to me, and yet they mean everything. Being the extreme nihilist that I am, life has no intrinsic meaning, and yet it is more meaningful than a poem that I once wrote about my tenth-grade crush. I've forgotten her name long since. The most absurd of all is that it hasn't been so long- perhaps a year. What is more absurd than the most absurd is that I am yet to turn sixteen; this I will do in a month's time- yet what is most absurd about the more absurd than the most absurd is the incongruity of the facts with reality. I shall not elaborate on this, for it has become nothing less of a meaningless telephone message constructed at the time of a drunken stupor.
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 7:35 AM UTC
Tossing to and fro as if combating a hostile sea/ dark thoughts cloud the inner sanctum of my mind/ the distress, the bitterness, the anguish, the grief, the sadness, the lonliness, the unfathomably lustful pain/ that I face burn with the intensity of the fires of hell that await me/ Guardians of chaos; harvesters of damsels come for me that I drown in their sins/ rip the fabric of my consciousness asunder/ my ***** sing an aria of sorrow, listen to the requiem of the ****** a miasma of death flood my bowels/ decay enters my womb and I plunge deeper into madness/ I'm an error; a fault of life as the demonic servants consume my flesh for what feels like a eternity/ as we desend in to the pit of blasphemy, defilement, pagans, and idol worshippers/ he deprives my spirit of the rightousness, tears it from its mortal bond and it unfurls into a ethereal cloud of emptiness/ being ravaged my capture looks off in the distance as if performing an exhibition/ with every touch I feel dead inside all the while the nightmare watches with a disgustingly grim grin....
This was written for a art history class inspired by "The Nightmare" by Henry Fuseli
Tell me what you think of the interpretation!!
Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 1:51 AM UTC
They deal in hatred
-often well disguised.
Religion impregnated
the extremists.
Then the fingers
really started pointing.
No one is left
without being chastised.
Immigration knocked up
national pride.
Everyone is waiting;
glaring at each other.
We are all dogs
being cattle prodded
with hatred
until our leashes snap.
What a circus it will be,
even more so than now.
More so than ever.
I am both sad
and excited:
If it takes so much
-a moment of finality,
of bloodshed
and horror-
to make them realise
that they really ****** this up
with their superstition,
flags
and greed
then I will grin
through the whole
disgustingly fitting
affair.
Oct 10, 2009
Oct 10, 2009 at 7:11 AM UTC