"flaw" poems
Your beauty is like an exquisite flower
Growing ontop of the highest mountain
Peaking at the very height of its power
Your Beauty is like Art
To where all may see in awe
Entering my heart
You have not a single flaw
Your beauty flows like a river
Following the way of the stream
Glowing slightest glimmer
Only seen in our dreams
Your beauty shines bright
From whom we cannot wait
Glistening in the moon light
Meeting you was considered fate
Your beauty makes us speechless
Unable to say a word
When we are with you, we are sleepless
While we try to talk, it comes out slurred
Your beauty cannot be described
Words couldn't touch the surface
This love I feel inside
Never can I stop being nervous
You are gorgeous in every single way
Loving you will be my duty
Unable to be kept away
This... is... the... power... of... Your Beauty
Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 1:31 AM UTC
And when you take shower alone
Your flaw less skin so wet
With water dripping down your *****
And reaching the twilight zone
Then you think of me
Fusing my flesh ,my blood with you
Taking you up and up in smoke
And you close your eyes in bliss
Cause it's my gentle kiss on your lips
And on your hips that you miss
Sep 23, 2018
Sep 23, 2018 at 2:04 AM UTC
Are you a witness of the precise moment
on that very proverbial, unpredictable day
when everyone did mind the gap
but the Ramadan moon took a step?
None could time it at first, as if it got out
from a black hole or an uncharted water well:
down the trail, who can tell?
Now a day or two is gone, has passed by.
The moon is in the fast lane soaring high,
and fills the orb with serene soft light.
Ah, buddies catch up, the suave fireflies.
Tons of these stay awake in the night.
Before they fly away, vanishing afar
into the epic portion of the night.
A confluence down the black moon,
only to catch a glimpse of any pattern:
a morning star or a forming pin bar,
a slice of light on a gingerly lit chart.
Premiering the Eid moon’s first blush.
Yet, if only one can time it, when will it flash?
Deep down a black moon, all eyes black out.
Still, how can one sigh though? Ah,
the unpredictable black moon, should it show
just a peek, showers the earth with Eid’s joy!
Will it show up in no time, far from the sight—
galaxies light up the shady nook of night.
A houri in the Eden rings the alarm.
The veiled bunch of fairies push the sky.
Every star throws its hat, only to tell first
when a crescent moon will crop up
And with the first spill of moonlight,
topflight it goes, pushing the boat out!
A walk down the black moon
without a light or water gone into the blue,
As though walking dead, blindfolded.
No pattern, decimals of Pi undefined by design,
but spot on gets to the apex spike!
There’s still an unmarked blank space
the light on this way doesn’t paint.
And this time, the time won’t tell
is there anyone who can is anyone’s guess.
So should the houri dare to run, then
cherubic she be on her flawless flaw,
rushes to ask the Queen of Heaven!
Oh, good luck to her, a wild one.
Time the black moon, its first glance
precisely when the Eid moon will crop up.
Enlighten us, we are more than curious.
Tell us, too—don’t just tweet it to the stars.
May 19, 2018
May 19, 2018 at 8:08 PM UTC
dating a writer
is like guessing the weather.
you think you know what you'll get,
but you never do.
you never know
because
she'll create a hero
from your weaknesses
and she'll write a great character,
from every last flaw.
she'll create a thousand plots
from your worst nightmares.
she'll take every last thing you hate
and create something you'll love.
she'll turn your anger
into confessions of adoration,
and she'll make you,
everything you're not.
but worst of all,
she'll leave you wondering-
is it you she's in love with,
or things she's created from you?
but here's the beauty of it:
if you date a writer,
you'll never die.
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 10:27 PM UTC
You say doctors will
make the best poets.
They will search your emotions
by the skin; cutting open to reveal
and revel
with surgical precison.
They will play with
heavy drugs and blades--
nothing shall hide beneath
the armors of bone and muscle.
They know the anatomy
of the heart too well.
They will find the things
you have hidden in your chest.
I say
doctors will never be poets.
They are too mechanical,
too fast with their edges
and ridges.
They cannot see the pain
as pain but merely as an anomaly.
That sadness is black bile
not melancholia.
They cannot sing to you
but only clammer in medical jargon.
Poets will use their imperfect words,
and perfect rhymes
to find the secrets of your rib cage
with ease.
They will find every flaw
of your broken body
and make it the best story
you've never heard.
Doctors,
they will put love to define as
a momentary rush of adrenaline,
an arrythmia for another human
caused due to an imbalance of the heart rhythm.
Poets will tell you
that love is the first jolt
of life for them.
They will say love is a state of euphoria
that takes those irregular rhythms to perfect symphonies.
Doctors say that
veins carry blood
devout of oxygen.
I say that they carry your broken emotions
to their feelings factory
to mend it within its beautiful catacombs.
All those doctors
will find and fix you
with perfect solutions.
And these poets
will do their best
to be your perfect solution.
Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 8:25 AM UTC
Born without the gift of intellect
Not a choice, not something to predict
Wishing that he could just be smart
Never knowing it would tear him apart
Never knowing a woman's soft embrace
Cannot remember his family's face
Just a boy without grace
Was he happy? Or was he misplaced?
But then he was fed by the gift of science
Never knowing it was a deadly alliance
Sacrificed his only life
To lay beneath the operations knife
Smarter and smarter Charlie became
A young at mind a foolish boy without a name
Thought a brain to see the world would give him rest
Until he realized normal life wasn't the best
The cold face of his memories shielded by glass
Broken and shattered they began to crash
Charlie soon met despair and desire
But was this his experience to acquire?
Charlie learned that with science came flaw
Yes beneath it, they never saw
Charlie would be back to himself
Just a boy trapped in a man
A secret, not meant to tell
Nov 13, 2012
Nov 13, 2012 at 5:56 PM UTC
I've found it,
My fatal flaw:
I'm a poet.
I romanticize and attempt to find beauty in the most hideous of situations,
Even when the beauty ceases to exist.
I fall in love with my own ideas and expectations,
To try to block out the reality.
So there it is,
My fatal flaw:
Poetry
I love it,
but it kills me
Sep 30, 2013
Sep 30, 2013 at 10:59 PM UTC
i had thought
the boy in my computer science class
with the foreign skin and army outfit
was the epitome of adorable
breaking into spanish when he got overexcited about learning
which was always
and i was excited when we were paired together today
until he seemed genuinely impressed by my competency
and contributed nothing
suddenly his misunderstandings of gender and sexism no longer
seemed like something i could cutely teach him about
but a tragic flaw
and a person i didn't want to be around
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 9:00 PM UTC
You always point out every flaw dad
Always reminding me of everything I do wrong
You never cared how I felt dad
Always comparing me to someone else
I already know how stupid I am dad
Believe me I’ve been told thousands of times
That’s why I want to move away from you
You’ve made me feel alone dad
While still saying you’re my friend
I cared but you didn’t
That was my problem I accept responsibility for that
But the hardest part about letting go is that
I’ll never hear you running after me
Deep into the cold
Mar 7, 2018
Mar 7, 2018 at 2:30 PM UTC
You used to adore me
Then I finally let you in
And now all you see
Are my flaws and insecurities
Is it all in my head
Or did you prove myself right
Is it because of what I said
Or what I did that night
I was so stupid
I was so foolish
I knew I shouldn’t have done it
But couldn’t help and be selfish
All I wanted was to express
And now I’m depressed
Because of the excess
Actions I could’ve accessed
I can be obsessive
But please see my intentions
I was trying to be impressive
But all it caused was tension
This is my flaw, I know
I just wanted to show
All the love that you deserve
But it’s that I couldn’t preserve
Aug 18, 2019
Aug 18, 2019 at 12:25 PM UTC
I've seen this girl named Ana.
She's pretty, thin, and tall.
She has the smallest frame I've ever seen,
And not one single flaw.
I met this girl named Ana.
She introduced herself today.
She seems very nice and kind.
She says she wants to stay and that she's here for me.
I know this girl named Ana.
She's so perfect, the exact opposite of me.
I'm so fat compared to her.
But she says she'll make me skinny too.
I'm friends with this girl named Ana.
She told me to start eating less, so I did.
Now I hate the person I see in the miror.
My life is becoming a mess, but Ana says it's okay.
I'm best friends with this girl named Ana.
I want her to always stay.
Everybody else has already left,
But Ana will never stray.
The only one I listen to is this girl named Ana.
She's so smart and full of advice.
I'm starting to get smaller and Ana says it's good.
My well-being and health is the only sacrifice.
I'm terrified of this girl named Ana.
She won't get out of my head.
It finally occurred to me,
She only wants me dead.
I hate this girl named Ana.
She makes my life a living hell.
Can anyone hear my quiet screams?
Cause she won't let me tell.
My worst enemy is this girl named Ana.
She's a demon in my head.
She seemed so nice at first, trying to help me.
But I was so mislead.
I'm a prisoner to this girl named Ana.
I'm captive to her will.
I can't help but do what she says.
How can I be so fat, still?
My murderer is this girl named Ana.
She starved me to my grave.
My heart finally stopped beating.
I was just too exhausted to continue being brave.
Apr 16, 2017
Apr 16, 2017 at 11:18 PM UTC
No food
No sleep
I can't let these things reach out and speak sweet lies
I can't let food call my name
I can't let sleep drown my thoughts
I shouldn't eat
I can't sleep
This is me
I am broken girl
Who can't eat
In fear I weigh too much
I am a broken girl who can't sleep
For my thoughts and memories
Haunt me too much
I am a broken girl who answers 'how are you?'
With 'I'm alright' even when I'm not even close
Because I don't want you to worry
I don't want you to fret
Over a broken soul
I am a broken girl who says 'I have been busy'
when someone asks me why I haven't done something
I have been busy just not in the way they think
I have been busy trying not to give into hunger
I have been busy fixating on how I'm broken
I have been busy
But not in the way they think
I am a broken girl who has let her demons
creep up on her too much
I am a broken girl who has surrendered
her soul
I am a broken girl who dates so she feels
worth something because I don't when I'm alone
I date because I need to depend on someone
Because I am not dependable for anyone
Let alone myself
I date so I can hear someone say I love you
So I can hear someone call me beautiful
Cute
Amazing
And so many other things
Even if I don't believe it
I am a broken girl who has lost so many relationships
Five to death
And so many others just because they left
I was no longer good enough
No longer happy enough
No longer
PRETENDING
I am a broken girl who pretends
And when I stop people leave
Because I am too broken
I am too clingy
I am too demanding
I'm just not enough
Or I'm too much
THIS IS ME
But no one sees
Until I let them
And when I do they worry
But please don't worry
Because you didn't when you didn't know
So why worry now?
I'm still the same me
You just couldn't see all the flaws that my eyes do
You don't see the way I do
I see a girl who's eyes are too big
I see a girl who isn't thin enough
I see a girl who's hair doesn't suit her no matter what
I see a girl with too many scars
I see a girl
But I don't
For all I can see now is a walking flaw
And no one knows that
THIS IS ME
Apr 19, 2018
Apr 19, 2018 at 1:20 PM UTC
A late hour indeed, darkness over land, but
A bright light shines from a moon above
As a shadow sweeps across the surface.
For a moment, it stands emblazoned, precarious
Adumbrated phoenix in the sky,
But it does not flare out.
Sweeping lower, the form resolves,
Alights narrowly on a fine branch.
For a moment, it struggles for balance
But soon it finds a niche, stands true;
Visage of wisdom in the night
But not without flaw
Not the swiftest, lacking in grace
Lost territories in cunctation.
Still, secure in its plumage,
Into the night, ready to fly:
Hunter poised in the trees
It soars aloft
Nearby, another branch inhabited
Not a vision this one, a voice.
A lighter weight, a softer presence
Harmonious to the calm
Tones of beauty to the air
It rings forth
Awhile, this one too struggled
It tried the songs of the mockingbird
Some rang esthetic, others strange,
But now its own song found:
Anthem sung for the heart
Chorus all may hear
Birds of the night. Dark to dawn
Their habits thus have been.
Now with the new morning,
A change in the season;
Mind and Song together to the sky
Light out for the lit horizon …
~D.B. Guy (May 2008)
Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 2:23 AM UTC
Drink and dance and laugh and lie,
Love, the reeling midnight through,
For tomorrow we shall die!
(But, alas, we never do.)
10.1k
You whisper in my ear
My thoughts
And every fear
You know all my weaknesses
You see every flaw
You know all my secrets
You see all my scars
You tell me there is no future
And force me to believe in nothing
You tell me not to speak
Not to raise my hand
You tell me just to smile
Even though none is there
I am but your puppet
Nothing but a doll
You force me to want perfection
When I have none at all.
—Bella Crosthwait
Aug 30, 2018
Aug 30, 2018 at 11:48 AM UTC
So young, He engraved the Law in your fledgling heart,
Covering your mind with the depth of His wisdom.
Why, no language exists that could translate its art!
Hopeless to assess its perfect scale and freedom.
The Law is His breast milk you sip fervently,
Howl in agony; your stomach digest it not.
Fathom submission, son of depravity,
To merely **** is short; apply what has been taught.
Sets of teeth sprouted in your gums like white pebbles,
Overdose with confidence, sleep without a sword.
Stars in the woods they seem, Alas! Wild, wild eyes of wolves!
Fight the fine fight of faith, shine light on the world.
A state of armed conflict, His Law against your Flaw,
Just a streak of insanity in the family.
Epitome of crossed swords, yet who will win in awe?
Glitch in your body, vow in its supremacy."
Sep 1, 2016
Sep 1, 2016 at 10:27 PM UTC
Listen,
I've got guilt choking all of my good juju.
I’m sorry I told you we’d hang out
just so I could come over
to watch Breaking Bad.
You know I need that
weekly crystalbluepersuasion.
I’m sorry I didn't sit on the porch steps
with you afterward
while you had your evening cigarette.
(I could have done that at least.)
I imagined you
sitting there
watching me
drive down the street &
out of your sight—
a lit cigarette hung limply from your lips.
I felt your disappointment &
I cursed my mother for teaching me
to have such a sharp sense of empathy.
I know I’ll never be badass enough
not to care.
I realize I was born to give
one too many *****
I've learned to accept it
as my incessant character flaw.
(It could be worse.)
Although,
I have to be honest,
I get my kicks
entertaining the notion
that for one evening
I was
the one that got away.
Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 1:54 PM UTC
A narcissist is a dummy bear on crack. They have gummies for brains.
Viewing the world with mooching eyes, flirting with greed and gluttony, playing games with the devil.
The narcissist is no friend
of the family.
They are crude and thick with pollution and toxic waste.
The Narcissist brings nothing but
suffering and pain.
If you bump into a narcissist
in the wild, run and don't
look back.
A narcissist wants attention and
they don't like bold and brave people.
They chose victims by kindness,
reputation and intelligence.
The smarter and more popular you
are the more likely a narcissist
will strike at you.
You have to be smarter than they,
set boundaries and strict rules.
Don't allow anyone to break your
security or your self esteem.
A narcissists biggest flaw is ego,
strike them in the ego ***** and
watch them turn blue and fall.
Find their weakness in their
gaslighting, use it to fight back.
They blame everyone but themselves for their actions.
©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton
Aug 3, 2022
Aug 3, 2022 at 3:18 PM UTC
If you love me
for what you see,
only your eyes would be
in love with me.
If you love me
for what you've heard,
then you would love me
for my words.
If you love
my heart and mind,
then you will love me,
for all that I'm.
But if you don't love
my every flaw,
then you mustn't love me-
not at all.
-Lang Leav
Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 4:13 PM UTC
Their whispers
seep through
the wall vents,
the crackle in the phone,
the inch space underneath their bedroom door.
They fake normalcy.
A pair of
spies
devising plans
to deal with
their children,
their belongings,
their money.
I silently holler
the flaw
in their plan.
Fake.
My siblings remain
oblivious, but
I wonder:
Maybe they were always
faking.
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 8:11 PM UTC
I am a fortress.
I have withstood wars that should have broken me.
Burned down and decimated by the mindless,
I rise up from the ashes.
I stand with my body, eternally.
I am strong.
My thighs are battle grounds trodden down three times round
and they're blooming new flowers,
mending from those who fought over them far too long,
my thighs have super powers.
I am soft and sultry sweet,
full of vulnerabilities.
Nature proves if anything that this will never make me weak.
My eyes once snuffed out are blazing brilliant brightly now,
rivers of tears have been filled in,
replaced by peaches and cream and skin.
My arms are solid protective forces,
my hands, tangible whispering caresses.
I wear my broken bits on my *******
puffed out chest with pride,
for I have nothing to hide.
My feet take me to and from all the places I've ever gone,
and my mind,
my mind, it tries. It tries so ******* hard,
and my heart cares so much that it shows
in every scar and battle wound,
in every mark that was ever taken as a flaw by boys who never saw
that without the storms I wouldn't glow the way that I glow,
every boy who told me to 'go with the flow'
like I couldn't learn a **** thing for myself.
Still, the lessons people preached did teach me a thing or two,
just not what they usually intended,
my face doesn't face up to face value,
belief is most beautiful when suspended.
My eyes see lies better than my thighs do,
yet resilience sees to it that both are mended,
but if there's anything I've ever learned that's true,
you should never leave anything open-ended
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 7:35 PM UTC
Hey
I’m sorry if I interrupted your class with text messages
because you hate putting your phone on silent
it’s just that I should be there with you
laughing at your confused faces during Calculus I and
staring at your look of sheer concentration during Creative Writing
You were always the poet, not me
But it’s 1pm and I’m stuck in Calculus with someone else as my partner
who doesn't get nearly as confused as you and puts me to shame
which ****** me off because you would never correct me in Calculus
and so I can’t help but wonder who your new partner is
Is she smarter
Is she funnier
Do you quote Shakespeare to her like you did to me?
Is she better than me?
There’s no doubt that a. I ******* it all up and that b. you’ll move on from me
because you were always the popular one, I was the antisocial outcast that most people barely
tolerated
For some unknown reason you decided to become my friend that faithful day in
Calculus I
and ever since then you became my 3am conversations and midnight laugh
I depended on you much more than you did on me
I cared so much more
and maybe that was my fatal flaw
because if I hadn't cared so much
then maybe I wouldn't feel like screaming and throwing my partner’s textbook
at the teacher
but I did
I cared too much; against all warnings not to and now I’m wrecked
then again, I always was in a way
I just didn't know it
You told me that it didn't matter
that they couldn't separate us; no matter what
that you would never let me go
and you kept your promise
but I can’t keep mine
The words “I’m sorry”
come to my head
but those aren't the right words
because I’m more than sorry
I’m bleeding
I’m crying
I’m devastated
I’m torn
I’m broken
and perhaps that’s why I can’t keep my
Okay?Okay promise to you
because no, I am not okay
and you deserve so much more
and this is not okay
me lying to you through a computer screen is
not okay
me putting my gashes of regret on my arm is
not okay
me making you wait only for you to find a fraction of the girl I was is
not okay
and that is why
today during Calculus I
I will finish this ****** poem
and excuse myself and go to the girls’ bathroom
and cry my eyes out after sending this to you
I should end this with a ‘goodbye’
because there’s no use giving you false hope
but I can’t bring myself to end there
so I’ll just say something
and hope that you still remember what it means
P.S. I’ll always love you
(h.l.)
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 6:52 PM UTC
I could tell you the exact day I became complacent
I can recall the way he parted his hair and the way he touched a steering wheel and the color of his eyes
And how he cared enough about me to make sure I didn't drink and drive
But not enough to stop mixing my drinks all night
And since I can't stand up for myself, he watched as I fell apart
I am a marionette with a broken string but **** he's a master in the art
Constantly moving me; bending my frame and pulling my wires
And keeping me onstage whenever he desires
But it's hard for me to play my part and keep up with my lines
When I come home smelling like a different cologne each night
When I am just an empty canister they keep bringing to their lips
Begging and pleading me to offer them something with purpose
But it's always the same story:
They fabricate me
I break and I bleed under their idea of self discovery
And my selfish idea of recovery
Out of every sweet name or ***** word they've ever called me
I think I've found that "Lonely" is my favorite thing to be
I haven't lit a cigarette in weeks, but tonight I'll light three;
One for him, one for me, and one for the person I swore I would never be
Listen;
My biggest flaw is that when I settled for feeling comfortable,
When I settled for what he told me I was
I never even bothered learning self-love
Jan 6, 2018
Jan 6, 2018 at 2:05 AM UTC
A flea and a fly in a flue
Were imprisoned, so what could they do?
Said the fly, "let us flee!"
"Let us fly!" said the flea.
So they flew through a flaw in the flue.
Ogden Nash
Jul 17, 2017
Jul 17, 2017 at 6:48 PM UTC