"doormat" poems
A friend of mine walked up to me and asked me: "What is a good woman?"
I replied "you would know if you were a good man"
He said "Stop joking I really wanna know"
"There is no definite answer, but when you meet one, it will show"
There are many characteristics that make a good woman, but it would take days to speak them all
Since my friend brought this to mind, I thought I would list a few for y'all
A woman who is proud of what she brings
and won't complain over petty things
A woman who is well spoken and not opposed to listening
because communication is key from the beginning
A woman who is wise and able to realize
the pit you are in doesn't matter because she will help your rise
A woman who wouldn't try to control her man but also wouldn't be a doormat
And when trouble comes up, her feet won't be flat (she's ready to go)
A woman who never stops believing in the man that you are and the man you can become
So much confidence in you, it almost makes her seem dumb
A virtuous woman who prays for you more than she prays for herself
Remembering God is number one above all else
A woman who tries to pay for herself before you can offer
Knowing the difference between selfless and selfish is something you should prefer
A woman with the power of forgiveness
But don't abuse it
Because a good woman is not stupid
She will lose it
You will lose her and have no one to blame when your heart takes the hit
If you hurt a good woman, in my eyes, you aren't worth the saliva I spit
The ice cream no one would lick
The one that gets thrown down in hope ants would leave a picnic
To pick apart your existence
Use your common sense
Realize what's in front of you and cherish it
Woman is the title a female receives at a certain age
But it takes a good man to realize a good woman is on the next page
I'm not saying a good woman needs to have this quote for quote
I don't think any woman does, if so, let me know
I haven't met any besides my family, but I don't go down that road
I'm being patient, waiting for my good woman is giving me time to grow
So I can give her the best Brandon Everett Davis, the world doesn't know
To not be on their level, would be a sin
Let's become better men for these good women
Dec 22, 2012
Dec 22, 2012 at 3:37 AM UTC
"It takes guts to be kind and gentle."
~Theres a difference between being kind and acting as a doormat.
Being a doormat literally welcomes people to walk over you.~
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 12:52 AM UTC
It's a ***** job
But I guess someone has to do it
If you've stood in a particularly large dog **** on your walk home,
I don't mind taking care of it
It's what I'm here for
But where can a doormat wipe its feet?
Oct 24, 2012
Oct 24, 2012 at 7:55 AM UTC
acting is a lot easier than people let you believe.
First you pick a person,
some sort of simple, easy, fun-loving personality
some range of phrases for said personality
mixed in with reactions of course, and
BAM
you got the gist.
my character is funny in the way that they're sort of me.
I'm very fake.
I've got this habit, you see, this habit of smiling and laughing.
"it's fine, it's funny we're laughing."
I'm the therapist, they come to me, I help.
I collect shards and paste them together
abandoning my own flayed pieces,
ignoring my own shattered self.
But that's okay!
See that's okay!!
Because J!
J!
J doesn't mind being stepped on!
OH ** **
J DOESN'T MIND BEING USED AND TORMENTED!
NO NO CONTINUE PLEASE!
J doesn't MIND only being talked to when others need something!
Please, go ON!
Because J!
J WILL LET YOU?
and why?
maybe it's the separation anxiety
or abandonment issues
or the fear of being alone in a general way
or a fear of being hated
maybe it's because J is so ****** use to being treated like a
******* DOORMAT!
that it doesn't even phase them anymore
it doesn't even matter anymore
it's part of the normal world
day-to-day life!
. . .
I smile a lot.
I laugh a lot.
More than most.
More than I should.
Some would argue that it's simply too much
am I trying too hard with it?
is it somehow obvious?
. . .
I left my first period to the bathroom. and proceeded to
sit down on the hate this word
and yet i couldn't cry?
WHY?
someone else was in the bathroom.
I wanted NEEDED some sort of a break
and yet J
and yet I
I could not give myself leniency.
Even alone
even if the person there didn't matter.
So when she left, a shed I still could not cry
and i split skin instead.
I had planned it for a while
nowhere near deep enough of course
couldn't be caught bleeding all around the school.
I had my blades in the bag,
I tucked them into my pocket.
some of the juice splattered itself onto tile floor
onto blue jeans
onto hate this word paper
wrapping itself around my arms,
pleading with me to please, please stop.
but who the **** cares
because
. . .
I smile a lot.
Mar 23, 2021
Mar 23, 2021 at 9:39 AM UTC
I would rather be hysterical than vulnerable
to what most people call love.
I would rather couple with strange women
on an Amsterdam getaway
than let one more man
try to own me.
I prefer to ignore my own psychodynamics
in favor of endless talking cure analysis
and occasional astrology cult ******
that promise to speed my eventual evolution
from wounded *** object to invulnverable starchild.
I don’t need a Beverly Hills shrink
to tell me my narcissism and depression and squeaky voice
are symbolic of never having the power
to set a boundary between me and my father
who doted over my puberty
with slobbering praise and veiled lust.
Everyone who knows me for more than a week
sees my father throwing me financial bones
instead of apologizing for what he did
and the more I take his money
the freer I feel
distanced by automobiles with dark-tinted windows,
a house with a skull and crossbones doormat,
a silver .45 under my pillow
and not one single ex-boyfriend
about whom I will ever say a kind word.
I have created emotional and psychological invulnerability;
all men are now my father
and all men pay the price
of never being loved by me
and I pay the price of never being able to let them love me.
Now I just play with partners
and when they inevitably start to use the “L” word
I start to run inside
and I bounce off the walls and mirrors
of my own emptiness
and I go on a photo safari to Africa
where I pretend to understand the meaning of life
and I put out restraining orders
against the men who insist that I explain
and I have come to rely on legal and monetary fences
to protect me from
the truth about my deep loneliness.
I’ve never had an ******
never said I love you twice to the same person
and I think
as long as the money’s there
I won’t have to.
Aug 18, 2012
Aug 18, 2012 at 11:33 AM UTC
"Poetry is confession, obsession, reflection.
Empathic minds, valentines, hope divined.
It's a kiss, whispered sweetly" (2)
who needs challenges, commissions.
kicks~in~le butte~
when heaven heaves rains, one downs tall orders in
short shot glass verses, which glossed over at its
first communion(cation,
come back
months later
to subtract - another
poem from where it lay dormant
on the doormat
of my sub~sub~terranes
of my diluted subconscious au natured dry & rugged terrain
a favored poet,
a secretive admirer,
whoa~whose~her truthful name, I've yet to uncover,
but whose one true soul inspires me repeatedly,
ana~lyrically licks me into
dredging from me
un begrudgingly
and yet,
another love poem,
she herself wrote when elixiring (commentating (3))
'pon one of mine,
a long long time ago
Alas! Alack!
unnaturally immodest,
one concedes,
when obviously a Super~Woman!-cedes,
seeds in three verses, what I could never unknot
nor uncover
so I requite & requote with
unlabored pleasure
miz patty m's
primary terse verse,
neither secondary & never tertiary,
her absolut perfect mixed drink
defining, summarizing,
the essences of love
*"(Love) Poetry is confession, obsession, reflection.
Empathic minds, valentines, hope divined.
It's a kiss, whispered sweetly"*
I concede, in deed,
and in writing,
I know nothing,
of writing
of only love poetry
and all the great predecessors,
elsewhere lyricized, named and tabulated,
by yet another women, (1)
I will take my weary words elsewhere,
and if
perhaps,
disguised as a woman,
(Natalie, Natasha, Natali
see note below)
perhaps my verbal herbal insides,
my turgid insights,
will be shorter, sweeter,
but never more completer
than those of,
who can syncopate it
in rhyme
and the naming of my
predilection,
by mid~initial,
will give a measuring
of solace, and
a kiss and hug from my mirrored selfie,
having been unsuccessful at
my one chosen endeavor,
only love poetry,
adieu,
I, due,
utter
Nevermore
M>
Sep 2, 2025
Sep 2, 2025 at 3:38 PM UTC
slave is someone who does not have authority over their own lives slave is someone subservient controlled dominated by somebody something slave works very hard for little or no pay slave is property of somebody something slave is someone forced to obey
sycophant is someone servile who overly flatters more powerful individual for personal gain sycophant is bootlicker brown-noser fawner flunkey doormat lackey lap-dog yes-men parasite toad-eater (pause reposition) somebody possessed of excessive vanity may cultivate sycophant swarms
side by side they stand clothed in black not quite similar the one slightly taller possibly because the other suffers poor posture perhaps they are related because in odd way they appear alike or of same ilk yet upon closer scrutiny it becomes apparent they have very little or nothing in common the taller one with troubled sad eyes the other smiling obsequiously the taller one more muscular ***** from working menial labor the other with curved spine slumped shoulders because of undue bowing and crouching while blowing smoke up other people’s *****
sadist is someone who attains ****** gratification by inflicting physical pain shame to other people sadist is someone who delights in excessive cruelty degradation to others
********* is someone who achieves ****** pleasure from being hurt humiliated abused dominated punished often self-inflicted ********* is someone who enjoys being harmed misused mistreated ignored by others
sadomasochist is someone who gets ****** gratification by alternately or simultaneously enduring hurt causing pain to somebody else sadomasochist is combination of sadistic masochistic tendencies in someone who obtains ****** pleasure from inflicting submitting to pain cruelty
sycophant slave snakes up leg of movie actress dictator who gains pain through pleasure 2000 miles from equator IED cell phone detonator sycophant dilettante ***** up to sadistic art critic or publishing editor on escalator while below on main floor of shopping mall ice rink figure skater pirouettes bows to nominator surreptitiously bribed by infiltrator mutilator
Feb 27, 2011
Feb 27, 2011 at 4:38 AM UTC
Leo: Remember everyone is fighting. Be patient, forgive, but never allow yourself to be a doormat to those who care less about you than you do them. Forget the wrath. Find the joy in the power it brings you.
Virgo: Do not stunt your growth trying to entertain the opinions of other people. You know in the end, you have to be the most important person in your life. Grow.
Libra: Quit running. You will never find yourself in other people, so stop trying. Desperation does not look good around your neck. Hold your chin high and look inside yourself for what you need.
Scorpio: Go. Stop leaving claw marks in your wake. Know that what you think you need is not always so. You are worth more than what you have been selling yourself for. Pride is important to you, but it is still okay to cry if you need to. Say goodbye to what is less than you.
Sagittarius: It is okay to say no. Don’t apologize anymore for having an opinion. Speak your mind, let yourself be heard. Do not quiet your desires for someone else’s.
Capricorn: The past doesn’t matter anymore. Close the book, shut the door. Stop searching for answers and know that it all happened for a reason. It will make sense soon if you let it.
Aquarius: Do not make friends with your demons. Clean the skeletons from your closet. Take a long walk tonight and allow yourself to feel the weight of sadness like a moth eaten sweater. Fold it up in the morning and put it in a box. Throw it away.
Pisces: Stop being selfish and cruel. Put the bourbon away, put your phone away for the night. Sleep by yourself and see what you dream of. People are not trying to ruin you like you are them. Forget revenge.
Aries: Let go. Do not cling to what you think is saving you. Do not drink tonight, do not tell them you love them again if you do not mean it. Be careful to not push away the people who truly care for the one who doesn’t.
Taurus: It is time to stop caving in on yourself. Reach out to someone, stop to smell the flowers. Find beauty in this world again.
Gemini: You’re almost done hurting. I know your mother told you the storm never lasts forever and you doubted her. Let the rain leave you now. It is okay to not define yourself by your sadness.
Cancer: Let the things and people you are bitter about leave you. Do not let memories haunt you any longer. Wash them off in the river while it’s still warm. Baptize yourself.
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 8:18 PM UTC
This way to the show, folks
The most amazing show you have ever seen
Bigger, wider, deeper
Wondrous and terrifying
More beautiful than your dreams
Uglier than you can imagine
And all for free
If you speak very loosely, that is
Watch your step son
Don’t trip on the unintended consequences
Step right this way
There’s no time like the present
In fact there’s no time left at all
Take a peek behind the curtain if you dare
What’s the worst that could happen
Probably best not to think too much about it
See the man without a plan
Watch him stumble through life
Be amazed as he defies death on the streets
His struggles with addiction will amuse you
Enjoy the bitterness of his regrets
Be stupefied by the clueless wonder
Taken advantage of at every turn
Thrill as he turns into the human doormat
Feel free to wipe your shoes on him
He likes it, really
Prepare your senses for the shock of
The compassionate woman
Stand bewildered as she is betrayed by lovers
Gasp as she weeps for people she does not know
Make her a promise as you leave fellas
You will make her day
You will be stunned by the man who is not like you
Be horrified at his minor differences
Criticize all his perceived flaws
Feel free to mock him, he is used to it
What’s that ma’am
No don’t feel sorry for them
They like it here
Three hots and a cot you know
Only some humiliation each night
And twice on Saturdays
Come one, come all
Leave the show smug and satisfied
About how much better you are
Than these miserable examples of failure
All this and more and not one penny to enter
The only fee is part of your humanity
Just drop it in the box right here
On your way in
Oct 15, 2018
Oct 15, 2018 at 11:56 AM UTC
This is for the rainy days.
The heavy days,
Blanketed under a dark silver sky.
This is an image of
Timeless days.
Where both dawn and dusk
Fail to exist,
Because the gray never went away.
This is the light drizzle
Painting your glasses
With tiny cloudy droplets
That blur-out your vision
And makes the next step a mystery,,
As you pray
For a chance of sunshine.
This is for the helpless days.
Lonely days.
Where with every battle
Pits you against the world.
And should you lose,
Or should you win,
Your victory is heard
by only two ears.
These are the words for the
Mouse-like people.
The great number of quiet strugglers
Who say yes to the fat cat
By Instinct!
So they won't be the meat
Of someone else's meal.
\ \ \
But this is not to cast you down.
Not a giant- making pinching gestures
With people sized fingers.
This is a challenge!
A day to reach up into
Your oppressive heavens.
Cast aside the disciplinary
Blockade and- Breathe.
Breathe in the tastes
Of a life worth living.
Of the courage to be on your own feet.
And this is an urgency.
This is an urging that
All the doormat people
Sweep out from the heavy feet,
The ones you welcome for trampling.
Because|
-You know exactly what you're
Missing
Nov 3, 2011
Nov 3, 2011 at 10:40 PM UTC
Toking on a cloud with ******* Jesus and his family
Lame folks ask me how,
its cause I ******* smoke
religiously
No God I smoke religious tree,
I get ****** in the name of heresy
You angry penguin ****** preach acceptance
So praise the Lord and ******* shame on me
My guise is Satan *****
and my swag is undisguisible
heartless and no conscience,
sicksicksix most recognizable
-that statement may surprise a little but since we all surmise a little
Why deny me as the devil when
When I clearly play a golden fiddle. . .
From Hell I made a deal
and there is no repeal
nothing you see is real,
I will invade and pervade your mind
So wait in anticipation,
life's a figment of your own imagination
I'll watch you dissipate into oblivion
Pound for pound,
I'm a cenobite at heart,
I just haven't a heart to be found
It's not hard for me
its profound,
the sound of suffering
your soul is ours now
and I will tear it apart
Here's a toast to our orchestral
Symphony of the flesh
My swag's so ******* flawless
100 carrot diamonds,
******* love me cause I'm gorgeous
can't stag no more, fat stacks galore
embrace the force it opens doors
Is there a source, but of course -
it just lies dormant/
What's a ***** to a floor except a doormat
And you know that I'm no diplomat
It's just a fact I ******* hate those stinky ratchets
And I sharply lack tact
tell that ***** her ***** smells like Magikarp
Body language, that of Snorlax
someone once asked
why don't have an open mind
brains would spill out
if my ******* snapback
weren't so tight
Its the season to seize C's
and hallucinations be dazzlin em
don't believe your eyes son,
its only a phantasm but
Words are like playdough,
fun to play with not to eat
So clap your ******* trap and get lost to the beat
I can't be defeat
So suckle my teet
My verses are perverse
I'm high as **** words: failing
Get low
ill as **** so ******* sick,
blowed half past belligerent,
tweaking off my nasal drips,
There's serenity in debauchery -
***** I ******* bask in it
have a taste
basketcase,
I drink red bull it gives me ******* wings
"Memento quod sumus lascivio venatus"
Remember that you are playing the Game
Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 9:00 PM UTC
If I ever see you again
I'll spat insults and hope they
Spray on your aviators
like the bugs that squashed against
my windshield the last time
I drove away from you
If fate destroys me
and I am in the same pub one night
as your wormy self
I'll tell you how you're the most
arrogant, vapid, shallow, womanizing,
******* male mascot
I've ever had the disgust to know
I'll slap you hard across the face
Oh and not like Scarlett O'Hara,
you demon darling
No crushing kiss will follow
and I'll mean vengence
vile will seep through my mouth
instead of the sweet saliva
I let you taste
long ago
If I ever hear your voice
or see your mocking manequin
among my tele again
With disgraceful force
I will lift that 50 lb set
and propel that ******* screen
across the state
The way your black static apology
shattered the brightness
that used to reside
within
me
If I hear of you
one more dispicable time
I'll grow bombs maticulously
within my empty core
and time them so perfectly
that all of your dysfunctional doormat
confidants
will explode the second they come near me
and their manipulative cells
will burst
and be burried among the soil
of ***** words
you whispered in my ears
**** if I ever see you again
I'll shatter every martini glass around me
and down a fifth of fireball
and breath venomous fire
and burn you, you beastly boy
And I'll pretend beauty amongst you
and walk away, a tall glass of water
That could diffuse
that angry licking fire
that is swallowing you up
When I see you again
I won't acknowledge your existence
and I'll be dressed to the nines
and I won't do a ******* thing about it
Because you aren't worth a sentence within this stanza
But I know I am.
Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 11:03 PM UTC
Step aside and let the others have their way but what about you?
A doormat on the muddiest of days for everyone's messy shoes?
After you my dear I insist
The door wide open to my heart you missed
Your chance to come inside and have a seat
Instead you'd rather be alone saying you need someone to be with I'd even ask to see you, you tell me you're beat
Bed time, but you're online stalking
When we could be talking
But hey, I'm nobody special just a normal dude
Just remember one thing I tried to always be there for you
Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 1:36 AM UTC
Certain men may be pigs, and maybe some feminists take it a bit far,
but when it comes to sexism, I certainly don't think it's restricted to ***
and when it comes to racism: there's no such thing as race.
Far too many **** Sapiens are just ******* vapid and odious when it comes to their personality, in general. It doesn't matter if the narrative is One's *** or religion, politics, perceived gender, art, science, the weather or any other elite form of edified philosophy.
I want to believe that everyone has merit-
that they cannot be judged by any external entity
that, because it is external, lacks the whole context.
Still, some people spoil my attitude towards people a bit.
Humans are my favorite counter-example; yet, I love us. Somehow.
Jaded though I may well be,
I seek foremost to be kind, but that makes you a doormat.
One seems to have two choices: be a push-over, or an *******
I seek the middle path:
empathic and kind, but also self-interested.
..something of a "passive-assertive" person.
Returning to the point:
I'm just an equalist, I guess.
Egalitarian. Individualist.
Sexism? Racism? Nationalism?
Why the **** is it even an issue?
Haven't we grown up at all in the last 10,000 years?
If someone's skin color, chromosomal composition, language, wealth, ethnicity, or where on Earth they happened to be born is that big of an issue to you psychologically and socially, there are much bigger problems going unchecked boiling over within you. The abandoned kettle whistles.
Good luck. Earnestly.
We're all counting on you.
People are people.
Worry about yourself and what and who you love.
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 12:20 AM UTC
Your skin is softer than silk
Your hair shines like the midday sun
And gazing into your periwinkle eyes
I know that you are the one
One night you finally invite me
Into the place you call home
I shiver with anticipation
As I brush and scrub and comb
But there are bones shoved under the doormat
And blood dripping down from the stair
What horrors I find that night
As I venture into your lair
There are legs hung in your kitchen
Fingers on the dining table
Forever watching eyes on the fireplace
Like some grisly fable
But that is not the worst
Of the torment I endure tonight
As I turn to run from you
You take away my light
There's a knife in my side
As you drag me, so strong
You rip and tear and consume my hide
Until my life is ended like a crash of a gong
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 11:23 AM UTC
She didn't know why
but within the simple act
of a man taking off his belt
lay all the terrors in the universe
But one day
this woman
she refused to be afraid for even
one more minute
She refused to give sway
to fear anymore
She refused to be a doormat
for one more bad egg
in the locker room
She refused
to be
a fashion
accessory
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 1:33 PM UTC
The details of your DNA are settling into
my brain like dust mites chasing
each other around and around in
search of a field of gravity;
sometimes I'm stuck and sometimes I like to run away
but occasionally I force myself to stay in the same place for more than a few minutes
occasionally I am the right place and the right time, and occasionally
that is enough.
It takes me a while but wouldn't you know, I have stopped
being a doormat for everyone whose baggage weighs
more than mine;
wouldn't you know, I don't think they carry
it right anyway, and their feet wouldn't feel
so heavy without the steel and armor;
I'm trying to play follow-the leader here,
taking tips from an invisible authority
I don't know any such role model to exist, but
sometimes I pretend I do just to
have a place to put my hands or my feet when it's
cold and they're tracking snow in;
my pulse is slower before midnight
once the dark falls I can't sleep
I can't sleep but I do know how to place blame
fitted heavily and perfectly to sculpted shoulders;
I can't sleep but I know exactly how much
plaster it takes to patch up a wall at roughly this height,
I know exactly the number of messages left on my machine
unanswered, ignored
molded word for word into
little stick-its in my brain.
I don't know sleep but I am very good friends with
her companions,
drowsy achy steady pull
of exhaustion dragging behind my eyelids
matched hand to hand with its
lovely counterpart,
red eye restless itchy frustration
burning hot under my skin.
But don't you know, I am only
this person once every
12 hours or so,
just wait it out, I'll
come around.
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 1:40 PM UTC
Laying there:
Motionless and meaningless;
flat, and waiting for one to walk upon.
Taking it like habit.
Why is it that you don't move,
oh, doormat?
Why is it that you let them walk
in
and out,
over
and about?
They see you there and feel the urge;
a rush from inside their brains.
*I must use.
I must use.*
No, no!
You must refrain!
Doormat.
How brave you once were.
A girl, so strong.
A being, so brave.
Now, you lay,
and lie,
and try,
and
crave.
Stand up.
Dust yourself off,
or shake yourself out, if you must.
Doormat you shall be no more.
Doormat you shall be,
no more.
Jul 12, 2010
Jul 12, 2010 at 12:19 PM UTC
I remember the first time I discovered poetry,
bolts of electric affluenza coursing through soft fingertips
and into the skinny blue lines of fascination
meaning nothing at first, yet transforming into the spillage
of emotion, the invention of color,
the budding metamorphosis of the artist’s apprehension.
I remember telling everyone about the honey-tainted metaphors
that exhaled yellow pigment through our film noir madness
of ravaged years cementing over irises
and I remember the revelation, saucer eyes and trembling hands
after discovering the faultlessness of magic
that tore at heartstrings and furrowed brows,
the mumbled prayer of stitching entire blankets of words together
to keep our souls warm even as the frigid ice of Time
burned in desperation to freeze our heartbeats.
You are a poet
but to the world, you are wasted opportunity
you only know of words that slip through tied tongues like silk
and mending excuses to make up for heartbreak
You are a poet
but they never stop reminding you to keep your feet glued
To hollow ground, shaking
To find something that tastes of reality, the human flesh
sweat of long lost longing
You have to stop living in your head
In the spaces where you breathe life into promises
You are a poet
But that has never been enough.
The poet is used to this--
the knowledge of failure always shoved under the doormat
numbers that collect under crumpled paper,
the rotten look of misunderstanding as they wonder
where the science of living went missing
When did art decide to invade your insides,
Leaving no room to calculate meaning with mathematics?
Oh, but only the poets understand
That there is no formula to meaning
No theorem to calculate suffering,
Only words that get stuck and disintegrate into whispers
only all-consuming madness, write me a storm
That rages through afflictions
Write me an ending where
We are older, in the house we dreamed of, buried
Under blankets in the forgotten fog of Decembers
Write me an ending where my voice is steady
Instead of constantly wavering past the silence of goodbyes
hellos
heartaches
Love me
And I will love you
Lose me
And I will turn you into poetry
stretch your bones into feelings,
follow the lines in your palms into futures
Where we end up together
I will hold up your eyelids
so they will never feel heavy at the sight of destruction
I will shelter your heart to keep it beating
As we watch as the words I could never say
flutter at your fingertips like moths
with broken wings
The world does not understand love
nor the poets that create it.
Nov 2, 2016
Nov 2, 2016 at 8:27 PM UTC
You've done it again! Time and again
First hook and then reel
Then hurt and release
Lay the blame squarely on me
You take me for a fool
A gullible idiot!
Who'll swallow your lies
And buy your story each time
I am not part of your life anymore
but I need to get on with mine
So be sure to burn the bridges
Cause I am not turning back anytime.
You will always do what it takes
To hold my heart ransom
Cause that's such a causal approach
It doesn't take much to strategize
I struggled each day and night
To swallow my pain and get on
But depression sunk its deadly hooks
My flesh was skinned and bare
My groaning heard none
Cause outwardly I appeared just fine.
But you conveniently forgot what u had done
And walked back without a care
For a doormat you take me
So can you step on my despair
You think I am waiting around
For you to do the same things again
Forgive you, for your wrongs and
get back from where we left?
Change your thinking!
Cause that's never gonna happen
I have forgiven, but forgotten not
I cannot forget or let go
For your lessons are deeply entrenched
And well learn't
One that has a lasting impression
My mind wont let it go.
Subconsciously I know your capacity
to hurt me time and again
Cause you feed on my feelings
To supplement the ones you lack
Grow up, own up, about time u realized.
You can't play me and think its fine!
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 5:02 AM UTC
When I saw her for the first time it wasn't admiration
It was awe mixed with a twinge of jealousy
Her perfection and her confidence intimidated me
When I first befriended her it wasn't just adoration
It was an obsession and a fixation
To be like her in thought and action
Till I learnt to be better than her without being enough
That was when the insecurity started
'Will I ever be enough?'
I wasn't enough at home, not fair enough or smart enough
I wasn't witty or flirtatious enough
I lacked guts and I lacked the temperament
Of a proper twelve-year-old.
I was a doormat and a pushover
Already coming undone at my seams
Trying to emulate perfection through blinded eyes
Every day I scoffed and surrendered to my picture of admiration
Trying to secure her own admission
'Will I ever be enough?'
Then she left me battling my own wars
Hers was to conquer new turfs.
I waited for a while, finally realizing
I was a ship without a captain, left to wander evermore.
I caught a new captain in a bystander who counted his lucky stars
I admired him for being there for me when I never was.
I tried to hold on to an unconsolidated bond of friendship
With a raging doubt piercing through my heart
'Will I ever be enough?'
Many came telling me my worth.
Many left ravaging my already battered heart
Many drank my colourless lifeless blood
Many left a wretched bluish mark
I shrivelled from the inside out
Bloating in the nausea of my being
Every day trying to put me together
Every day losing instead of winning.
One day finally I reached out
Knowing my salvation lies
I put everything behind me and cried out
Only to be put on the side.
That day I realized my worth
When she was hurt by my rejection
When she refused to give me a chance
When I had never received any ever.
My insecurities still lingered
But they were a part of me now
And I did not know how to do without.
I picked up the pieces that meant something to me
Even though she was no more there to see
Yet I knew that she was never enough
Never my horizon, never my turf
I had wings to reach farther
And my flight has thus
Now begun without her.
(c) Anavah 2018
Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 7:18 AM UTC
Getting too maudlin’
my depression coddling
in sorrow wallowing
tears I’m swallowing
Need a dose of selfesteem
a bottle of cop-on cream
a potion for a daydream
anything to stop the scream
I’ll start my treatment tomorrow
today there’s too much sorrow
the doormat syndrome I borrow
between my eyebrows a furrow
Apr 11, 2013
Apr 11, 2013 at 10:45 AM UTC