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"exaggerating" poems
Let me tell you about myself. I am a mosquito magnet. I have little scars of itchy memories all over my scrawny legs. But I think it means my blood is sacred. I find my laugh unique and one of a kind. My walk, resembling more of a bowlegged wobble, allows me to stand out against the crowd. (My walk isn't that bad, by the way, I was merely exaggerating for stylistic purposes.) What's more, the fact that I am prone to blushing at even the slightest glance my way is kldjaf;ldjfoiad;htija;ji;ajf. I love it. My clumsiness only adds meaning to the moments in which I am fleetingly graceful. Yes, my posture is rough around the edges, But it signifies that I have been around the world a few times. At least I don't jut out my pretty decently sized ******* You're welcome. I find my lack of arguing skills in the moment cute. My mistakes are adorable, and my obvious flaws are endearing. The fact I can't **** an ant without showing sympathy is amiable. If only somebody thought the same way about me. If only people looked and analyzed others as closely as I do. They would see. That way I wouldn't be the only one loving myself. (Or trying to.)
0
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 6:09 PM UTC
Me Myself And I
In all my poem reading, I haven't been able to relate to a love poem. Until tonight, I always thought the writers were exaggerating. Yet, this feeling of connection is remarkable. I suppose I would need a strange poem to describe it, too.
0
Jan 24, 2019
Jan 24, 2019 at 4:17 AM UTC
Not a Love Poem
Your smile is the reason for my happiness I can hardly control my feelings in front of you It may seem like I'm over exaggerating But I'm simply just reinstating that feeling we call LOVE. Love goes and come and when it truly come we should hold on it tight and never let it go,,, No matter how hard we try to fight. I never knew before how is it to be in love Until that very special moment ''When I started loving you'' You brought a wonderful things in my life You opened my eyes to see the beauty of love! You taught me a thing that I wasn't even going to understand ,But you never taught me the art of letting go and the cure of hurting so much.
0
Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 1:55 PM UTC
You Light Up My World !
I once saw a man with a lot of hair Hair all over, hair everywhere Just so much hair he could be called furry I didn't take time to stare, I was in a hurry But I glimpsed some hair on his ears Though I spent no second pondering how he hears Some around his nose and some around his eyes Much encroaching his mouth as if to say, don't tell lies! His fingers had the most hair I've seen I promise I'm not exaggerating just to be mean As I glanced at the painting of the man with so much hair I wonder if the artist's creativity was meant to stir fear
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May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 2:45 AM UTC
The Man With Hair
I treated my skin like a goddess Legs shaved, hands moisturized, Any spot of acne scrubbed away and covered over with pale sheets But I hid from my spine, like a snake always a few inches behind me, waiting to strike This skin there was a poorly applied veneer, Exaggerating the flaws it was meant to hide The snake is in constant motion, waving an S up the core of my being, Displaying my instability It's curved, like the ridges of the Grand Canyon Only more unnatural, Un beautiful, More like a line you tried to draw straight Only when it wavered just a little too much, you threw it away and started over I cannot start over My snake drags venom along its body, instead of drooling it into a bite And he is always biting, So the skin on my back has never been touched Never been pampered, or savored.
0
Jan 7, 2018
Jan 7, 2018 at 10:48 PM UTC
Scoliosis
It was one of those mornings where you peer out your bottom floor window, and look up at the raindrops freshly fallen. You feel broken, and yet rushed with an unexplainable emotion. but you know it’s a good one simply with a bad aftertaste. You see people everyday, no, you stare at them. You wish for relationships you once had. Others you wish you could hold, and those you could never give up. Have you ever heard the saying about faking a smile? It’s an understatement. It’s not sadness, or anger really, just pain. It doesn't start out as pain, it just evolves, over time. The madness results in Emotionally caused Physical pain. The pain doesn't hurt, it just...sits. This emotion that we've nicknamed pain, rushes through the body, Arms numbs, legs shaking, eyes holding back, everything. It’s all caused from sight, with a drop of longing. You see this person everyday. You long for the same people every single day. And your body just longs for them. It’s not as lustful as it sounds. You just possess an attraction to these people. An attraction that even the most specific and descriptive of words could not describe. You sit there and you are bound by society’s lock on intermingling. You are bound by the mock and disgust of others. You are bound by that person of which you desire. You are bound simply by yourself. All this. All of this Emotion, if you will, was bound in that little drop that clings to the window. That was but a drop of what I feel every single day. You can’t imagine but don't let me sound as if I am exaggerating. For I am not. I have felt wonderful things. Things I am not sure most of you have felt. Though I wish you could. I wish I could place my hand on your chest I wish that all of that energy, that emotion, would flow into you and then back into me. I could look into your eyes, and I would know, that you know, how I feel. You could understand everything. You could sympathise. but the fact of the matter is, you simply can’t. I do not believe you have felt what I have felt too, no. Different version and variations, yes. But this feeling of impossibility, I know you have not felt. You are common rebel, this is not bad, no not at all, you have more opportunities to release this emotion than I ever will. And i envy you. All of you. Every Last one. You look away from the rain drops. You go back to living. You go back to hiding. You go back to solitude. Yeah, it was just one of those mornings I guess.
0
Apr 26, 2013
Apr 26, 2013 at 10:41 PM UTC
It was one of those Mornings...
It was one of those mornings where you peer out your bottom floor window, and look up at the raindrops freshly fallen. You feel broken, and yet rushed with an unexplainable emotion. but you know it’s a good one simply with a bad aftertaste. You see people everyday, no, you stare at them. You wish for relationships you once had. Others you wish you could hold, and those you could never give up. Have you ever heard the saying about faking a smile? It’s an understatement. It’s not sadness, or anger really, just pain. It doesn't start out as pain, it just evolves, over time. The madness results in Emotionally caused Physical pain. The pain doesn't hurt, it just...sits. This emotion that we've nicknamed pain, rushes through the body, Arms numbs, legs shaking, eyes holding back, everything. It’s all caused from sight, with a drop of longing. You see this person everyday. You long for the same people every single day. And your body just longs for them. It’s not as lustful as it sounds. You just possess an attraction to these people. An attraction that even the most specific and descriptive of words could not describe. You sit there and you are bound by society’s lock on intermingling. You are bound by the mock and disgust of others. You are bound by that person of which you desire. You are bound simply by yourself. All this. All of this Emotion, if you will, was bound in that little drop that clings to the window. That was but a drop of what I feel every single day. You can’t imagine but don't let me sound as if I am exaggerating. For I am not. I have felt wonderful things. Things I am not sure most of you have felt. Though I wish you could. I wish I could place my hand on your chest I wish that all of that energy, that emotion, would flow into you and then back into me. I could look into your eyes, and I would know, that you know, how I feel. You could understand everything. You could sympathise. but the fact of the matter is, you simply can’t. I do not believe you have felt what I have felt too, no. Different version and variations, yes. But this feeling of impossibility, I know you have not felt. You are common rebel, this is not bad, no not at all, you have more opportunities to release this emotion than I ever will. And i envy you. All of you. Every Last one. You look away from the rain drops. You go back to living. You go back to hiding. You go back to solitude. Yeah, it was just one of those mornings I guess.
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56
*stop whining about that mascara that smeared on your pretty little face stop exaggerating that one small bruise on your knee you got two weeks ago because some people have a bruise on their empty little scarred hearts they can't fix there is no bandage for the hurt, the pain, and the suffering*
0
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 11:11 PM UTC
suffering
Wake up In The middle Of The Night Consciousness Can Focus On Things Normally Out of Sight Exaggerating Tiny Details, To which it Clings What A Relief The Morning Brings
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Oct 18, 2024
Oct 18, 2024 at 6:13 AM UTC
Subconscious
let us consider declarations of independence as remedies for election ills.. democracy has been deadened by flows of money reaching ego ends.. competing parties mirroring yet exaggerating differences knowing one and all precious power is the prize.. independence allows consciousness to arise at last.. good then is found in left and right shadow enclosing both.. paradox rules oppositions and detachment soothes the din of boisterous claims.. new freedom brings new strength.. money flows lose direction when feedback polls confuse.. and democracy then may deliver promise once again...
0
Sep 11, 2012
Sep 11, 2012 at 5:35 PM UTC
independence
It started with a goodbye. It started with me wrapping up my past in bubblewrap, as if it was fragile. It was really so that its sharp edges would be unable to hurt me anymore. I decided it was better to leave it inside my bedside table, next to the pictures and the letters. Not to pack it in a suitcase and bring it with me on my many travels. But it refused to leave my side, it followed me, like a paper plane guided by my insecurities. Like I was a holding up a neon sign that read STILL HOLDING ON. Perhaps it was a sign that I was to carry it with me to all the places I hadn't been but longed to see. People asked me about the big monster that hunkered down beside me. But how could I tell them that I was caught up in something I'd promised to leave behind? How it has consumed my mind my body, my very soul. How it threatened to rip a hole in the very future I was trying to protect. Maybe I'm exaggerating Maybe the time I spent hating every part of me wasn't very long at all. But it felt like an eternity the summer, winter and fall. Finally, spring arrived With hopeful eyes and a big bright smile. I shook myself awake from what was starting to feel like a neverending nightmare, A rabbit hole that wasn't taking me to Wonderland I started to understand that I couldn't go on like this. I took a hit or miss dive into the future, And like a magician, unlocked the weights at my ankles. Once at the shore, I looked at my past as it drowned unwanted and forgotten, And I realised I was no more a crinkled mess. With wrinkled fingertips at the end of my hand, I held up a mirror to my freshly washed face. I smiled, digging my toes into the sand. It ended with a hello.
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Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 2:13 PM UTC
It started with a goodbye.
It started with a goodbye. It started with me wrapping up my past in bubblewrap, as if it was fragile. It was really so that its sharp edges would be unable to hurt me anymore. I decided it was better to leave it inside my bedside table, next to the pictures and the letters. Not to pack it in a suitcase and bring it with me on my many travels. But it refused to leave my side, it followed me, like a paper plane guided by my insecurities. Like I was a holding up a neon sign that read STILL HOLDING ON. Perhaps it was a sign that I was to carry it with me to all the places I hadn't been but longed to see. People asked me about the big monster that hunkered down beside me. But how could I tell them that I was caught up in something I'd promised to leave behind? How it has consumed my mind my body, my very soul. How it threatened to rip a hole in the very future I was trying to protect. Maybe I'm exaggerating Maybe the time I spent hating every part of me wasn't very long at all. But it felt like an eternity the summer, winter and fall. Finally, spring arrived With hopeful eyes and a big bright smile. I shook myself awake from what was starting to feel like a neverending nightmare, A rabbit hole that wasn't taking me to Wonderland I started to understand that I couldn't go on like this. I took a hit or miss dive into the future, And like a magician, unlocked the weights at my ankles. Once at the shore, I looked at my past as it drowned unwanted and forgotten, And I realised I was no more a crinkled mess. With wrinkled fingertips at the end of my hand, I held up a mirror to my freshly washed face. I smiled, digging my toes into the sand. It ended with a hello.
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45
Your feelings are valid. You have every right to feel whatever emotion you want. You aren’t being dramatic. You aren’t over exaggerating. You’re feeling. And that’s okay.
0
Nov 15, 2015
Nov 15, 2015 at 10:49 AM UTC
Untitled
Let me tell you a phenomenon I realized. Whenever he opens his mouth to speak, I pause and lean in to listen. My body seem to come together in peace, listening intently. The breeze softens to the sound of his voice, flowing with a quiet coolness. The animals pause to hear his stories, like an eager crowd. Whatever tension building up on my shoulders and neck seem to pause and heal, disappearing quietly with each word he utters, or whatever sound he hums as he stop to ponder in between conversations. It's like the universe comes to a calming pause whenever he makes a sound. And oh, don't get me started when he sings and fiddles with the guitar or piano. With elegant fingers poised on strings or keys. Creating magical notes with a fiery passion surging from his beautiful heart to the tips of his fingers. You may think I'm exaggerating but I am always in awe of his talents. It's like his soul scoops up the emotions and dumps them carefully in music chords and intricate words. How I could just close my eyes and let his voice breathe life into me. I thank God everyday for his existence; for he is made of all things soft and beautiful. -m.b
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Jan 10, 2018
Jan 10, 2018 at 5:54 AM UTC
pauses in tranquility
"I'm fine." is her response. but, she isn't. she's just hoping to convince herself that she is, when she smiles and tells them she's fine. Just to ease her little mind, she's puts on a mask. She folds up all of her problems and disappointments and shoves them away. Just for the day. Thinking maybe, just for now, she could be happy. Thinking if she forces that fake smile, it would one day become genuine. A real smile. A genuinely happy smile. That's all she ever wanted. But the thing is, nobody knows. Nobody knows who she is inside, or how hard it is for her.  Not her parents, not her best friend. Because she wears a disguise.  She hides it oh so well, sometimes she herself can't tell. And because if they knew, they'd say she's exaggerating. She wants attention. She's just having a bad day. Well the bad day turned into a bad night. A bad week. A bad month. A bad year. But she doesn't want a bad life. She doesn't try to make herself miserable. She tries really hard to be happy. Sometimes too hard. She's learned not to expect anything from anyone, because with great expectation comes great disappointment. So much disappointment. Enough to make her sadness turn into emptiness. And she would rather be sad than empty.
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Dec 8, 2013
Dec 8, 2013 at 11:16 AM UTC
Slam: her disguise
you remind me of the evening thunderstorms: cold, terrifying, yet so beautiful. when i said that your smile radiates joy, i wasn't exaggerating. when i whispered that the touch of your hand warms my heart, i meant it from my deepest palace of mind. the thought of you alone is enough to make my body tremble for i cannot cope with so much feelings. i'm craving for you yet my heartbeat always goes faster every time i think of being close to someone other than myself. i am eager for the sense of your skin against mine but i still can't get rid of these metals that locked my heart out for you. i want to say that i'm madly in love but i don't know if i can be madder than i already am. being with you is like cutting my own body parts into pieces; it hurts so bad but it's much better than being alive and numb. i wish i could take it easy like the detectives when they solve problems but my problem is you and you are nothing but a bunch of puzzle pieces that confuse me all the time. i really wish things weren't so complicated inside this forest in my head.
0
Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 9:26 AM UTC
this one i made for you
Life is glorious With a taste of gore, But it seems That glory has no value And gore shall prevail Forevermore. Hand in hand Go glory and gore, For, rainbows are not found Without a sunny downpour. Magnifying trouble Doubling the rubble, A flaw engraved- Incorrigible. Harder and hardest We name them apart, But truth lies in neither For, it's only hard. Choking and bleeding To death and beyond, Send us to our eternal home, To the grave we belong. We need not love To live a life Without burns Within the soul. We need not heartache To maximise gore, But only the need For sympathy and pity. Although some of us Need not any pity, Only a helping hand To change the future. Past is past Untouchable, We have no time turner To change what's over. But gore maximisation Is what is shameful, Exaggerating Pretentious nightmares. Stories of blood Stories of tears, They may be true But only what It means to you. Keep the rubble They way it is, Don't falsely increase The heavy burden. Yes we cry, But not die. Death comes once And takes us away, Completely disconnected And entirely stray. We sink to the bottom But we don't drown, Breathless and shivering But still alive. Going over these lines I only see A blank page Staring back at me. *Oh you hypocrite Don't tell these lies, You know you double The rubble and the cries.* I despise this poem But still, I write For, I need to be loyal To the growing demons. Paradoxes contaminate Words of wisdom, Scattering constellations Back into stars alone. I question myself What is it I want, I realise that the answer Only lies in a web; The web of life. Live life to the fullest, Don't live in a dream world, This is reality There is gravity. ***But, to hell with life That's what I say, Live your dream Make it your way.*** Be considerate To what others want, But never bow down To unreasonable taunt. Look at good Look at evil, Choose your path Let it prove Not fatal. *A cursed hamartia Ruins many a life, A flaw so fatal A remorseful light.* Ending this vague haze, Of many a peculiar phrase, I cannot comprehend myself, For, I am caught In the inevitable daze.
0
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 11:07 AM UTC
Hypocrisy
Life is glorious With a taste of gore, But it seems That glory has no value And gore shall prevail Forevermore. Hand in hand Go glory and gore, For, rainbows are not found Without a sunny downpour. Magnifying trouble Doubling the rubble, A flaw engraved- Incorrigible. Harder and hardest We name them apart, But truth lies in neither For, it's only hard. Choking and bleeding To death and beyond, Send us to our eternal home, To the grave we belong. We need not love To live a life Without burns Within the soul. We need not heartache To maximise gore, But only the need For sympathy and pity. Although some of us Need not any pity, Only a helping hand To change the future. Past is past Untouchable, We have no time turner To change what's over. But gore maximisation Is what is shameful, Exaggerating Pretentious nightmares. Stories of blood Stories of tears, They may be true But only what It means to you. Keep the rubble They way it is, Don't falsely increase The heavy burden. Yes we cry, But not die. Death comes once And takes us away, Completely disconnected And entirely stray. We sink to the bottom But we don't drown, Breathless and shivering But still alive. Going over these lines I only see A blank page Staring back at me. *Oh you hypocrite Don't tell these lies, You know you double The rubble and the cries.* I despise this poem But still, I write For, I need to be loyal To the growing demons. Paradoxes contaminate Words of wisdom, Scattering constellations Back into stars alone. I question myself What is it I want, I realise that the answer Only lies in a web; The web of life. Live life to the fullest, Don't live in a dream world, This is reality There is gravity. ***But, to hell with life That's what I say, Live your dream Make it your way.*** Be considerate To what others want, But never bow down To unreasonable taunt. Look at good Look at evil, Choose your path Let it prove Not fatal. *A cursed hamartia Ruins many a life, A flaw so fatal A remorseful light.* Ending this vague haze, Of many a peculiar phrase, I cannot comprehend myself, For, I am caught In the inevitable daze.
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108
You say you’ll give me everything But all I get from you Is a lot of promises And kitchy kitchy koo. You said I’d get a diamond ring Before the week was through. Then you said you lost your job And wanted kitchy koo. The washing machine No longer works And neither do you. I wish I was exaggerating, But every word is true. All I get to look forward to Is kitchy Kitchy Koo. Kitchy kitchy koo When it all begins. It’s a lot of fun till when All the kitchy koo ends You best start out as friends. Our love life is super hot But there are other things to do. Life involves so much more Than kitchy kitchy koo. Groceries and cleaning matter Though not that much to you. It’s too bad you don’t get paid For kitchy kitchy koo. I never thought I would complain About making love with you. It isn’t that part that bothers me So, let me drop the other shoe. There are seven days every week And things we adults must do. And only a tiny percent of that Involves kitchy kitchy koo. Kitchy kitchy koo It’s a catchy rhyme Just have fun all the time. When the kitchy koo ends We may just part as friends.
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Feb 12, 2016
Feb 12, 2016 at 11:03 PM UTC
KITCHY KITCHY KOO
1  It's the strangest phase of your life EVER. 2. You're sort of transitioning into an adult but you're still very much a child at heart. 3. You start to take up multiple responsibilities - at school, at home, maybe a part-time job. And sometimes it can be overwhelming for you. 4. Pursuing an education takes a whole lot of work, no matter what type of course you take. 5. It’s also a privilege for many, so be thankful for that.   6. People can be a handful. Some are literal pieces of **** So know your battles; know when to engage and disengage. 7. Friends worth keeping are the ones who let you grow and flourish without having to be there 24/7. 8. Show kindness, no matter the circumstance. (Because kindness always wins!) 9. It's better to just stop thinking of what others think of you. 10. And gosh, stop judging yourself too hard. 11. Overthinking does **** Take that leap of faith once in a while, you'll be fine. 12. You're already amazing, as is. 13. Sometimes the ones you love most are the ones who hurt you most. 14. Sometimes the ones you love most are the ones you hurt most. 15. You will fall. And you will fail. Over and over and over again. 16. And jatuh ha gedebuk gedebang tergolek terlantang into the furthest, deepest pit of the hole. 17. But somehow you’ll find yourself back up again. And somewhere along the way you realise it wasn’t that bad of a fall. 18. Then you realise there are so many things to be grateful for, Alhamdulillah. (and that you were just being a big *** whiny drama queen, exaggerating every little, minuscule thing all along) 19. Also, it’s okay to be sad, miserable and feel so alone once in a while. And boy oh boy you WILL cry like you’ve never cried before. 20. But that doesn’t make you a baby. It makes you stronger. Feelings and emotions are important and they do matter. You matter. 21. Despite it all, you’ll always have God. And that is the best part.
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Dec 31, 2018
Dec 31, 2018 at 7:47 AM UTC
21 things being 21 taught me:
1  It's the strangest phase of your life EVER. 2. You're sort of transitioning into an adult but you're still very much a child at heart. 3. You start to take up multiple responsibilities - at school, at home, maybe a part-time job. And sometimes it can be overwhelming for you. 4. Pursuing an education takes a whole lot of work, no matter what type of course you take. 5. It’s also a privilege for many, so be thankful for that.   6. People can be a handful. Some are literal pieces of **** So know your battles; know when to engage and disengage. 7. Friends worth keeping are the ones who let you grow and flourish without having to be there 24/7. 8. Show kindness, no matter the circumstance. (Because kindness always wins!) 9. It's better to just stop thinking of what others think of you. 10. And gosh, stop judging yourself too hard. 11. Overthinking does **** Take that leap of faith once in a while, you'll be fine. 12. You're already amazing, as is. 13. Sometimes the ones you love most are the ones who hurt you most. 14. Sometimes the ones you love most are the ones you hurt most. 15. You will fall. And you will fail. Over and over and over again. 16. And jatuh ha gedebuk gedebang tergolek terlantang into the furthest, deepest pit of the hole. 17. But somehow you’ll find yourself back up again. And somewhere along the way you realise it wasn’t that bad of a fall. 18. Then you realise there are so many things to be grateful for, Alhamdulillah. (and that you were just being a big *** whiny drama queen, exaggerating every little, minuscule thing all along) 19. Also, it’s okay to be sad, miserable and feel so alone once in a while. And boy oh boy you WILL cry like you’ve never cried before. 20. But that doesn’t make you a baby. It makes you stronger. Feelings and emotions are important and they do matter. You matter. 21. Despite it all, you’ll always have God. And that is the best part.
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21
You are such a sweetheart I see you as an appreciative woman of art You speak to me in the sweetest of tones I just want to share a couple of ice cream cones You bring me joy on a daily basis It soothes my soul like I'm in a desert and your words are my oasis Someone might say I'm over exaggerating But having you in my life is such a blessing I am truly hoping this poem doesn't scare you away I just want to show my appreciation in the greatest possible way Poetry is how I share my love and affection for those close to my heart I've befriended woman that tore my heart apart But you make my heart positively swell That is why I wanted to dedicate this poem to you: Joelle.
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Jul 21, 2021
Jul 21, 2021 at 5:23 PM UTC
Joelle
I know what you’re all about because you’ve told me. You’re against using medicine and chemicals. Unless I put them in my body and they become the permission slip for you to *** inside me. Somehow this feminism pill that is supposed to liberate me is really liberating your **** You’re against plastic surgery. Until I need it to fix this unbroken vessel which you can’t help but make comments about while we stand naked and on exhibit in the shower. You’re against hurting women. Unless it involves “hog-tying me and carrying me around like a brief case.” Then it’s just **** and what you’re into. I guess I should work on finding the pleasure in that. You’re against me using a ******* chef’s knife to cut pizza rather than a pizza cutter. Until it becomes an opportunity to tell me I’m doing it wrong. I’m going to dull the knife you are so cunningly waiting to shove in my back. You’re against giving in to unhappiness. Unless it’s an excuse for you to ignore me. I forgot I already reached my frown quota and you were given the free infinity pass at birth. You’re against eating meat. Unless it’s human meat because you aren’t above cannibalism. How many of us have you chewed up and **** out, anyway? I am just one more unassuming girl to be preyed upon. You’re against pessimism. Until it’s your life, your opinion, your need to rain on everyone’s parade. You say I don’t see the silver lining in the clouds, but it’s because I’m consumed by your storm. The entire sky is overcast and I can’t, or won’t, be the rainbow every single time. What is a rainbow anyway? Depending upon which way you look, it vanishes into nothing. Beautiful, but transparent and fleeting. I give you pleasure for a moment and then I am forgotten. I am a refraction. A bending light. Invisibility spreading it’s legs wide open to give you a smile in fabulous color. You shout these qualities in your autobiography like I’m supposed to give you some type of award. The reality is that being in a relationship with you means constantly teetering on the balancing beam of a double-edged sword. The only thing you’re really against is me. On day 1 you told me you were an ******* And I thought you were just exaggerating.
0
Mar 16, 2019
Mar 16, 2019 at 3:31 PM UTC
Boyhood Bumper Stickers
I know what you’re all about because you’ve told me. You’re against using medicine and chemicals. Unless I put them in my body and they become the permission slip for you to *** inside me. Somehow this feminism pill that is supposed to liberate me is really liberating your **** You’re against plastic surgery. Until I need it to fix this unbroken vessel which you can’t help but make comments about while we stand naked and on exhibit in the shower. You’re against hurting women. Unless it involves “hog-tying me and carrying me around like a brief case.” Then it’s just **** and what you’re into. I guess I should work on finding the pleasure in that. You’re against me using a ******* chef’s knife to cut pizza rather than a pizza cutter. Until it becomes an opportunity to tell me I’m doing it wrong. I’m going to dull the knife you are so cunningly waiting to shove in my back. You’re against giving in to unhappiness. Unless it’s an excuse for you to ignore me. I forgot I already reached my frown quota and you were given the free infinity pass at birth. You’re against eating meat. Unless it’s human meat because you aren’t above cannibalism. How many of us have you chewed up and **** out, anyway? I am just one more unassuming girl to be preyed upon. You’re against pessimism. Until it’s your life, your opinion, your need to rain on everyone’s parade. You say I don’t see the silver lining in the clouds, but it’s because I’m consumed by your storm. The entire sky is overcast and I can’t, or won’t, be the rainbow every single time. What is a rainbow anyway? Depending upon which way you look, it vanishes into nothing. Beautiful, but transparent and fleeting. I give you pleasure for a moment and then I am forgotten. I am a refraction. A bending light. Invisibility spreading it’s legs wide open to give you a smile in fabulous color. You shout these qualities in your autobiography like I’m supposed to give you some type of award. The reality is that being in a relationship with you means constantly teetering on the balancing beam of a double-edged sword. The only thing you’re really against is me. On day 1 you told me you were an ******* And I thought you were just exaggerating.
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30
Exaggerating, is a way To make situations, and to progress the day Exaggerating, isn't the way To fool people, make them yell;hey! Talking, is a way To express, and to convey Talking, isn't the way To bore people, all the day Writing, is a way To help creating, your say Writing, isn't the way To pass seasons, whether December or May |AB|
0
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 8:11 AM UTC
Exaggeration, Talk, and Writing
It's a Thursday night and I'm higher than I've been all week. The boy told me this was the good stuff (as he does every week) so I took it on faith that he was exaggerating. Two blows later and I can barely read the late Mr. Vizzini's words. My body feels warmer than it has since November of 2012, and my face is itchier than my last year in Boy Scouts, circa 2008. The walls of my room seems a lighter shade of purple than the have in years and my carpet is not as stained as it was this morning. Old Polaroids of my parents' wedding are tacked on my wall, and in those pictures my grandmother is the most beautiful women in the world. Thank God for muscle memory, and thank God for compulsive ************ and thank God unsharpened pencils, and thank God for everything else that my body knows how to do and everything that I can see in my room and put down in this poem. There is no purpose to this, but today I asked a friend of mine why she is always looking at the sky and she told me because if she looks at it long enough it isn't the sky at all. It is her and she can speak to herself and she can thank God for compulsive ************ and ****** science fiction literature.
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Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 1:43 AM UTC
Compulsive ************ and ****** Science Fiction Literature
Creeps up to me like a serpent Exaggerating, hissing white lies Subtle black magic weaving Uncertainty Makes me read between the lines For accusations from straight out of nowhere I'll get over it soon enough Cut the snake's head off Find a way to make it right With only my thoughts for company If I can keep them in line If I can stay sane If I can overcome Suspicion
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Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 12:05 AM UTC
Suspicion
Don't be the fluid that slowly fills my lungs and makes it harder for me to breathe Just because my problems Are smaller than yours Does not make them inferior Or insignificant Dont you dare tell me I am over exaggerating Because you are not in my skin You dont really know how this is Just because you've gone Through millions of miles Of problems and successes Does not mean my achievements Are measly or amount to nothing Just because you are numb now Doesn't mean you should numb me too I can't have a life full of anesthetics Just let me be
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Dec 4, 2013
Dec 4, 2013 at 10:36 PM UTC
pneumonia
I'll start with this, a simple wish My long-awaited dream to fly When you told me forever, I almost believed you And I nearly let my hidden wings unfold But then I thought maybe you didn't mean forever, not really Maybe you were just exaggerating So I tucked them away, hiding them deep within myself again Flying would prove to be very lonesome, if I had no one to join me The second was my inner desire to become lost, To somehow lose myself in search of uncovering who I wanted to be But to merely pretend, and fall into the masquerade of life was too effortless Instead I sought to be free, to find what made me different and never change That's where we clashed unpleasantly You always knew where you were going; you always had a plan I only drifted aimlessly, hoping that with a hint of serendipity sooner or later I would unearth what I was looking for Losing myself would be rather impossible, if I had nobody to find me again The final was the most significant, but also the most strange My fear of letting someone in, to close the distance from stranger to friend Or even more so than a friend All my doubts and uncertainties revolved around you I didn't want you to discover my soul inside and be sadly disappointed Or maybe even disgusted with what you saw So I didn't let you get too close, I made myself think that I wasn't what you needed Nor would I ever be So you see, my dear It was very hard to be with someone, when all along I knew I was better off alone
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Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 12:58 AM UTC
The Things I Never Told You