"distrusted" poems
Are you afraid of the dark?
Do you stray from the night?
Are you safe in the glow of a candle’s light?
And do you hold a friend’s hand,
When you pass through the eve,
While imagining evils youth often perceive?
It’s a little bit funny,
And a little bit sad,
But the darkness, you see, really isn’t that bad,
It’s misunderstood,
Hated and feared,
Distrusted and dreaded since the monsters appeared,
They may own it now,
But they didn’t before,
The day was once host to the evils of lore,
But we still fear the things,
That we don’t see or know,
And in the cover of daytime, the evils don’t show,
So we fear the things,
That go bump in the dark,
But the daytime, you see, is no walk in the park,
Those monsters exist,
All around you, I fear,
And because you can’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t here,
They walk all around you,
In a humanlike guise,
And possess the trusted, the loved and the wise,
Monsters walk in the daylight,
They’re all over the place,
Behind the eyes of a stranger or a familiar face,
But when the sun goes down,
Their masks pull away,
And the monsters emerge from the humans of day,
So you see, night is scary,
But the light is a curse,
So I ask you, please answer:
Which one is worse?
Nov 8, 2012
Nov 8, 2012 at 1:15 AM UTC
It's a sheepy love,
making me go 'baa',
as I look on you in awe.
The way you talk,
I can't help but flock to ya..
Your voice is more than a bleat,
it makes me feel complete,
knowing you and I are real.
They can call us sheeple,
but I never cared about them,
so let's meet at the steeple.
It's mad to me to think I
ever doubted or distrusted you.
I must have been like a lost lamb
or a stray sheep searching
when all I ever really wanted
was just to have you, oh ewe.
But what can I say, really,
sheep aren't smarties,
but we make good sweaters,
so won't you hold me close,
like I was your pillow?
Let's have a sheepy love,
the sweetest love of them all.
Aug 18, 2016
Aug 18, 2016 at 11:24 PM UTC
Twenty distrusted fingers. Thieves.
They robbed her in the dead of day.
The putrid smell of **** and pain. Blood and puke.
Loss and loss.
A child’s scream.,
The sound of no one hearing.
Ten fingers scratching at windows fogged.
Tension, clenching, attention
All on her.
Snow in October.
2012.
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 2:49 AM UTC
If there's a word that you're holding back, say it.
If there's advice in your brain, let it out.
And if anything helps, then I'll take it;
But no man can assuage all my doubt.
I doubt that I'll ever quite make it:
I doubt that my dreams will come true.
I doubt night and day, but I fake it
In case they start doubting me too.
I don't think I can catch my breath now,
I doubt that this air will be clean;
Don't know if I'm close to my death now,
But alive? I just feel in between.
Come and steal away all of my guilt now
Make me sigh and admit I was wrong
For of all of the things my mind's built now
I distrusted self-doubt all along.
Jul 20, 2017
Jul 20, 2017 at 6:08 PM UTC
I've been walking,
walking through years ago:
in and out of conversations,
lonely declarations,
and things I thought I knew
and sometimes still pretend to know.
Through two fields of
partially formed ideas,
where honesty stains
the **** and grass blade
some lush-but-vague hue,
I saw the innocent childhood
slip and fall into the city.
Up and down an avenue,
where misplaced hated
and embarrassment hide,
I lost sight of the
adolescent mind
between my bewilderment
at unmarked signs.
There I heard my voice
urging friends of some half-truth.
It sounded so unsure
I distrusted myself.
Like gazelle, my little lies
ran, scattering throughout the sky,
then were gone, camouflaged in cloud.
I've been walking,
walking through years ago:
in and out of conversations:
impulsive declarations
of things I thought
and was once believed to know.
Jul 29, 2012
Jul 29, 2012 at 6:29 PM UTC
Like a lightning bolt, on the last stretch, of the last lap, of Rainbow Road, in Mario Kart...
You leave me wondering how life could be so cold, I'm falling apart,
and recalling the start, of our endless summer.
Went from loving her heart, to trying to take it from her.
So I can make it tremor, shake and quake, and sever.
The debate of hate holds no weight forever.
Love doesn't wait for you to stay a beggar,
and showing up at my place, doesn't make it better.
You're the bad part, and that far from gratitude.
Your attitude has challenged you, Boo, and that's the saddest truth.
I was doing what I had to do.
You think no one can handle you?
You can't handle yourself that's exactly why you're mad at you.
Denial lifestyle.
You've been living for a while,
but haven't felt alive since the day you had your child.
He's not the only one that's damaged from you always acting wild.
Always on some **** ****** off and getting loud.
But if nobody listens,
the only thing missing from the vision,
is another unsuspecting victim to dig your petty grips in.
Hate with love mixed in
Mixed up, you missed out
On this, how?
The distance.
No more goodnight kisses, here's some goodbye wishes.
You've burned a lot of bridges, but I heard a lot about, these good fine fishes. No longer distressed.
You're just my dismissed, distrusted, mistress.
Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 9:26 PM UTC
I woke up an uncracked knuckle
Left the house late
Arrived early
My coffee shop closed
For good this time
The new tenants tried to sell me
On Reggae Dancercise
They explained they’d still have coffee,
A small conciliation.
I saw my sister, sat with her child
He ate cupcakes & distrusted me
For my gluten intolerance.
She is unimpressed with poetry
My sister, she falls for a Friday
I sit on a street in NoLita
It is wind-swept, as am I.
Wondering at this moment
When the next time I will
Touch hearts with another will be...
Not on this street
If today.
Oct 20, 2016
Oct 20, 2016 at 10:59 AM UTC
Barren
Desolate
Meandering dirt path parts and expands infinitely into the horizon
No signs, only distrusted intuition
Turn back to the past and be trapped forever
Continue forward on an unknown path and risk the future
Sit still forever and be ******
Tumultuous change is never avoided
Forceful trudge onward with unrelenting steps
Then yet another **** crossroads is met.
Nov 25, 2017
Nov 25, 2017 at 1:03 PM UTC
It's a yell
A shout
A scream
and it's unheard. Believe me, when I
say I am not what I seem to be
when I am smiling
when I am grimacing
and I am wishing that I could do it
"just like normal people do"
But the word "Anxious" is soaked
like a tattoo down to my bone, until
I feel so alone that I wish I could eat myself
Snake scales slowly sliding into place
As, with each new word, I slowly want
to trickle sand
and
erase my
embarrassment
All too aware of
harassment which doesn't exist
I can't even begin to give you a list
of the amount of ways I felt this
hole, this weight, this unmistakeable
slayer of my breath
make me feel bereft again of
society, and friendship,
and love,
My brain is constantly praying for that dove
with an olive branch
Just to take a stance over my head
and let me be led into freedom
But instead
My mentality lies in tatters
and what is left
wholesome is scattered
with fear on the wind,
gradually allowing itself to rescind
until it turns, reforms, and falls
again
I never know when it's going to strike
Usually it's when I start to like somebody new,
that it begins to brew up it's toxic mess
Friend, Other or Lover,
it will find a way to slither and make
less again,
So nuh-uh, no way, not again,
I refuse to look you in the eye,
because I'm scared I'll cry if I see my fear there,
I'm scared I'll see that you're aware, that my fear
is slowly drowning me, and crowning
me the Queen of
Isolation,
lost and uncertain
Wishing I could pull the curtain, but still
blindly hoping that audience will
come to, will see the tattoo
and not be disgusted.
I don't want to be distrusted, because every sorry
is laden with uncertainty and regret, that's it
not over yet, and the monster still holds
me by the throat,
I am bathed in mistrust's yolk
And I wish I could smell of something different.
But, I take a deep breath, and I let
another war begin.
Because every day I stare into another's
pupil, is
another day I kinda, sorta,
win.
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 8:52 PM UTC
I've never been capable of true Hate,
It's not a part of who I am, what I am,
I can be Enraged for a time, but it burns off,
so now I wonder, as you push me away and stab me,
as you revile and curse me,
do I Hate you?
I don't feel Rage for you,
I don't want to tear the flesh from your bones,
I don't want to rend your body asunder,
but I still feel like I dislike you,
though it is definitely more than that.
I think I may finally know what it is to Hate.
To be reviled, distrusted,
to not be cared for,
to be in every way rejected,
though I show nothing but good towards you,
I think that has made me feel Hate for you.
It is not hot like my Rage, it is cold,
It is not swift like my Rage, it is slow,
It is not impermanent like my Rage, it is lasting,
And I think I'm okay with that.
So yes, I Hate you. And I almost want to thank you for teaching me what that means.
Almost.
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 12:12 AM UTC
Imagination so dark
Mind so dark
I can't see a single thing
Not even anything
Except from gore
It traumatizes me more
Than it should've
It makes me disgusted
It makes me distrusted
Of my own imagination
My imagination
Makes me cry
From being scared
Kai is my name
死ぬ is my other name
Or at least that's what my dark imagination tells me...
Imagination makes me a fool for life and dreams
I can't tell the difference between life and dreams
It's difficult because of my dark imagination
It's too realistic
My mind is a bit too artistic
A bit too much gore
I don't want anymore
It makes me scared
Scared
That I might become one of them
Nov 19, 2024
Nov 19, 2024 at 12:28 PM UTC
It's so strange to be so happy right now
With adversity's bruises and cuts still burning
And old broken bones still aching through
Yet I have found clarity again
In this journey of fixing mirror cracks
Clarity gives me a lot of joy
I've been a self saboteur you see
An angry pressured worker
Pushing the rock up the hill
Wondering why it keeps falling down
I didn't understand love
Bigger and smaller
Momentary and perpetual
For what it was
I've seen love as a task
Something to be stressed over
To be controlled and analysed
To be distrusted and fought
And to torture myself over
When it disappeared
Love is not a task
It's a flow
Something natural, warm
Fun and carefree
Something to be accepted as possible
But allowed to pour where it should
I've met a lot of girls over the years
And I've gone in with the task in mind
The stress of
'Will I be successful in the task this time?'
And so I fail in the task that isn't a task again
When I've really found something fun and special
Is when I haven't working the task
When I've let myself swim in the flow with another
In conversation and dance
In revelry and smiles
In warm bed sheets I've never seen before
I know it's strange to be so joyful from pain
It's just...
I can learn to trust the flow now I can see it
So... I feel a little bit free right now
Jun 14, 2017
Jun 14, 2017 at 11:24 AM UTC
Lust
Star dust
And emotional distrust
Creates the dysfunction of us
**** the traditions of love
Let us live in unconditional
Distrusted love
Aug 28, 2016
Aug 28, 2016 at 4:40 AM UTC
Whiteness
Screams mix in the shrill sound of sirens
Wet with tears
From the eyes and faces of those
Cries for justice
Most born and die never knowing trust
Diminished by shadows
Distrusted because of the color of flesh
Less than life
Teach their children before spoon fed
Not to stray
But to live in their shade of color
Not to ask
Nor to ever expect permission nor contradict
To ignore humiliation
With such words as why are you sensitive?
And if worried
About walking, working, or living, not white
signifies diminished worth
Not worth the respect or value of humans
Dogs in pounds
When whiteness is like crap filling the toilet
Brown
Aug 21, 2022
Aug 21, 2022 at 10:39 PM UTC