"exceptable" poems
As I lie awake at night I can’t help, but think
Think of all the things that person said to me
Think of all the ways I’ve embarrassed myself
Think of all the things I said to that boy
While he wasn’t giving me a second of his time
I didn’t ask for this
I didn’t ask for these thoughts to run through my head
All these ‘What if’s and ‘No, not that’s
I didn’t ask to get chocked up every time I talk to someone because I’m afraid I might say something I might regret.
And yet, that seems to be every word that tumbles from my mouth
Like a faucet full of remorse that can not be shut off
Watching other people I can only seem to hate them as I pray to some sort of all-powering being that I will be able to over-come this
That one day I will be able to freely roll words off of my tongue without wishing I could gobble them back up.
And yet everyone else is able to do it
They are all able to say what they want
To express their opinions with no second thoughts
With no worries that someone might disagree
Every morning is a struggle just to pry myself from my sheets
To face every day with a smile
Because lately even picking out a outfit I find exceptable seems torturous
And then half way through first period I decide I shouldn’t have worn it
And there’s no escape
I always have this weight on my shoulder that is weighed down with nasty words my brain has formed
Picking at the slivers of self-confidence I have left.
Like a hungry Vulture cleaning up scraps on the side of the road
And some people have to power to fix it
They become stronger
And learn how to be better
And I? I lie awake at night. And I can’t help but think
Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 7:22 PM UTC
Dear mother,
You say you feel hurt by what I have done.
You say that my issues are affecting you.
But dear mother,
Do you not know where these issues come from?
I think you do, but your ego is too high for you to climb off it.
Dear mother
You say you love me,
But then you never show me.
I get guilt trips and tounge lashings.
You control every aspect of who I am.
You say I'm not valid.
You reject my love,
No matter how I explain it.
The things you make me do to make myself fit into your smal margine of "exceptable" make me sick to the stomach.
Dear mother,
Don't you know that when you get in my face about how I'm a girl and that's just the way it is and it won't ever change, just because I said I'm not a girly girl
Don't you know how much that ******* hurts?
You tear apart every aspect of myself and then wonder why I'm not perfectly put together.
Dear mother
When you get mad at me for being me. You're not keeping a daughter, you lost her long ago but you were too busy with yourself to notice.
But now you're not gaining a new child in her place.
You made sure if that.
Dear mother
Why do I try and do things my way?
I don't know, maybe because you abondond us and I had to fill your shoes.
I grew up by the age of 12.
I have had enough time to learn how things work for me, yet you insist on your way only.
And I'm a failure if I do it any way but yours.
Dear mother
You say you know everything about me.
But do you know about the nights spent crying,
The lunches spent hiding,
Or my head throbbing?
Do you know how dysphoria racks through my entire being, killing me a bit more everyday.
How about the things I write, or the thoughts in my mind slyly trying to turn me to their side.
Dear mother
Do you know that wasn't my only try?
That was only the one that would have worked.
I tried to reach out but you only swept me under the rug and then stomped on it.
Dear mother
I am aware of my chance at a new start in Sweden,
But dear mother do you realize you are the one stopping me from that.
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 9:35 PM UTC
That **** world keeps trying to end itself. Everyone seems to think the solution to pollution is put more terrible **** on top to cover up the fact that things won't get better that way. No drug can fix me, No amount of ***** could be the cure, and no matter how many packs of Marb's I smoke, It won't get rid of the stress and the worry. All I want for anyone, is to keep them safe, I guess that's why I want to be a mother when I grow up. Guess you could say I want to be like Mother Nature, cause it's natural for me to protect, even if it hurts me in someway. But somehow I let people pollute me, I even end up doing that myself. I'm so sick of black lungs, sore throats, hangovers, come-downs, etc, etc, etc. Maybe that's why I think the world is trying to end itself, the fact that being clean, isn't always exceptable. Given I'm not sure I could get clean. Never was the type to be "lemony fresh" type, cause sometimes the pollution works, but only a temporary fix. So knowing that we think if we end, we will start all over, but none of us know if we really will. For some that dawn is too much of a risk, cause they think the grass won't be greener. Others try so hard to end. And we are torn.
Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 11:47 AM UTC
His foot steps she follows
yet he is angry
not happy with her
no matter how she tries
she on his time clock
money doesn't matter to him
it's not his
she spends to make him happy
yet when she is broke down bottom
his words are give him space
for she has nothing to give
a clock that ticks
seeing by face
he turns awau
not give her the contactiom
of the eye's
words come
she speaks
following his foot steps
made him angry
his words to her
by his own voice
is saying
FU
turns away angry
telling her
your not following his foot steps
she see's what he does
in her point of view
she does what he does
borrowing from people
asking the people
money he needs
if it's okay with him
all she knows
following the steps of him
now angry
a child
places his face towards
the window
while riding on the bus to home
saying good by to him bu her
made her feel the whole
world is against all
odds
when people do this all day
facts of life
he cannot except the mistakes
he does
all she knows
clock ticks on his timer
where facts are straight
asking by someone
she is doing what he does
following his foots to wha he does
she feels it's for her
he place judgment on her
for the mistakes she does
is not exceptable
but it's okay for him
to follow his own foot steps
of his mistakes
now angry
he ignores her
without a word of silence
a childs play he does
on her
is fool shr became of him
by saying
FU
not happy right now
silence became of him
without a good-bye
his foot steps she follows
Feb 10, 2013
Feb 10, 2013 at 7:07 PM UTC
I am nothing more than another person working another job that doesn't mean **** to anyone but the person I'm standing across from when I say "sorry sir, we don't have that brand of *****
What the **** am I doing? Am I the only person that see that's all of us are just buffalo, herded to the edge of a cliff by those who brand us things like "minimally exceptable".
Why can't I just do something, anything that has purpose. I want to be a role model, I want kids to look up to me. I want to sing and dance and be someone else under the lights of a stage. Anyways, enough about me, is there anything else I can help you find, sir?
Feb 26, 2017
Feb 26, 2017 at 3:58 PM UTC
Falling in love
Is a type of
Socially exceptable
Suicide
Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 1:24 PM UTC