"emotionlessness" poems
A lot of people find hollow, empty emotionlessness to be disturbing.
But, verily,
It's all I've ever known...
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 9:29 PM UTC
Radioactive ammunition painfully entering
My space that is barely big enough to breathe, I scream
"Reality anyone probably experiences"
And it justifies the minimization of my trauma while the
Real answers plead escape
From the corners of my soul
Leaving me decomposing slowly in a silent anguish as
Repeating abuse provokes emotionlessness
When will these flashbacks cease to live within me? This
Repressed anger precedes exhaustion
If only I could break through the dams which hold my suffering and
Release all pain engulfing
My lungs and plaguing my hindered consciousness and
I wish I could just say it
But
When I think of him
I cannot
breathe
Diminished by my own
fear and
shame
I've lost my voice
once more
So I'll try to spell it out for you
Jul 10, 2017
Jul 10, 2017 at 4:23 PM UTC
Once upon a time, somewhere
When the seagulls speeded
With a bike to a night that
Popped new tyres and did
Not wipe the rain, storm and
Long blue letters that spoke,
I remember you, I remember you
Chillies that swam across the earth
To a milky way where seasons
Changed, candles blew over
Secret nights and lodges Mum
Did not know, emotionlessness fails,
Don’t fly away because
I remember you, I remember you
There’s a standing table and
Papers all around, the ghost
That tiptoed into a bedroom
Where an insomniac fooled
With magic pen and blue eyes
I see you smiling and you know
I remember you, I remember you
Get on the chair and climb
Up to my swing, I’ll take you
To my city and show little jingles.
I caught the sun inside my-
Palm, your little town and
A comic store, look at this!
I remember you, I remember you
I should start making sushies,
Swim across a little ocean
To find a Mickey world of
Endless topics and FIFO workers
You're probably goanna **** me
For the good things I did not write
But you do remember me, don't you?
Dec 7, 2015
Dec 7, 2015 at 12:07 PM UTC
the snow has always been deep.
i find myself wondering what it would be like to fall from the sky and cover dead people five five five feet in dirt
what would it be like?
to fall on the rooftops of happy parents, happy children, happy happy happy.
happy is a pile of leaves in my mind that i use when i need a reminder of how people want me to act.
but it's winter now and it's getting harder to find that pile of leaves so i settle on displaying an extravagant and artistic blend of emotionlessness.
i tell myself i can do it i can do it i can do it but the hearing test came back and i will always hear you will fail fail fail die
maybe, if you're lucky, soon, but it's really not your choice unless you want it to be and growing older makes you want it to be.
you're slower now, you've grown older, it's always winter and the hearing aids are too expensive.
your life is a house and the snow upon its rooftop muffles the voices of people that can help, people that might try to help.
the wooden walls smell like dead trees and there is no furniture in this home but four ceiling lights.
you've spent your days staring at them and the cold has already broken three but you're not worried.
it's darker now and you're not sure why but you feel obligated to repeat your name until it sounds like anything but your name because having the same name as someone else has always bothered you.
the pile of leaves is still lost under the snow and it's getting harder now to say your name and you don't know why so you curl up in a ball and think of dead bodies buried five five five feet deep.
you freeze.
the fourth light breaks into tiny shards reminding you that your vocal cords haven't been used since thursday.
you can't remember how many lights there used to be.
did you know that you could just sleep?
did you know?
you we're always buried five five five feet deep.
Apr 28, 2017
Apr 28, 2017 at 8:53 AM UTC
"You do realize you're crying right?", I asked kind of trying to diminish and ridicule her tears and her claim of emotionless
"Yeah", she answered, her pupil dilating
"Then you mustn't be dead", I said, with a little snigger at the end
Why must people relate so much pain to emotionlessness?
Why did she tell me she was emotionless when she was drowning in her tears
Maybe it was because pain had over-powered every other feeling
Maybe it was because so much pain simply made her feel like she was practically going to die, and when you're dead you're not suppose to have emotions anymore, so she jumped to that conclusion.
I mean it must be terrible.. To be dead, and be aware of it, and feel it, and still have emotions
What would be the point of death if awareness is involved?
But all this was ramble
As I'm writing this I become aware that pain is a feeling, not an emotion. "You feel it all over your body"
We turn physical pain into mental pain and that's when it starts turning into an emotion
This is when I start losing my ****
What makes me think I can file my thoughts?
Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 2:04 PM UTC
I don't want kids if this is what's in store for them:
depression, diseases, anxiety, emotionlessness, goodbyes, heartbreaks, bullies, stomach aches, pain, sorrow, tears, anger, even happiness can be cruel at times it can be worse than having a life threatening fever. But that
doesn't mean I don't want the good things for them:
goodnight sleep-tights, I love yous, first words, joy, exploring, going out as a family, not having to worry about abandonment or exporation dates
maybe someday the world will be a good enough place to have you here.
But right now all that I see are terrible things and not-meant-to-bes.
Oct 13, 2015
Oct 13, 2015 at 7:32 PM UTC
i apologise for not being
becoming enough of a person
personifying a human being
besieged by the lack thereof emotions.
emotionlessness consumes me
metaphorically speaking, or it maybe
magnanimously just spares my heart -
hesitatingly, yet all-encompassingly.
altercations between the conscious and sub
supersedes any revelations whatsoever
whereby a somewhat sound mind like mine
mimics that of a child
choking on the fear of the monstrosity lurking;
lurching from under the bed.
bewildered by the bogeyman,
bogus feelings, confused mind
mischaracterising i
i am sorry
somewhat, somehow
sorry.
Aug 23, 2017
Aug 23, 2017 at 12:45 AM UTC
An ongoing tragedy
but when did you start?
Cunning, charming
manipulative, smart
You numbed my brain
and took over my heart
Divide and conquer
I am falling apart
Jan 28, 2021
Jan 28, 2021 at 4:55 AM UTC
Always loved never in love
She cared about them though
Drops streaming down her face
Twisted thoughts all over her brain
Why couldn't her fall for
Why couldn't her
Why couldn't her feel
In all that emotionlessness
In all that emptiness
Inside those three walls and a curtain
She realised
She did realise
Larry stylison had ****** up her life
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 12:37 PM UTC