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Chérie Jun 2019
Guilting me, Making me feel like I wronged you.
Guiting me, Making me feel like I'm not suppose to be happy.
Guilting me, Making me think you deserve happiness and not I.
Guilting me, Making me feel like the ******* that I am.
Guilting me, Making me out to be the bad guy even now.
Guilting me, Making me think it's fine for you to be happy with another but not I.
Guilting me, Making me feel undeserving of anything.
Guilting me...
dj Sep 2012
I am counting twelve pairs of ribs lining the perimeters
of my torso
Boney Me
Asthenia fingers
Wasted knees and knuckles
Pricking the hard chords on my chest-guitar
Misery eyes -- Dashing around in dustbin sockets
My head like a raisin with skull-shaped framing
****** inward
Looking at the dead animals guilting me
Looking at the withering plants begging for water
Evil food.

Attracted to the mirror
I know only this
Only what I see -- And I see a sow.

Lost in this possibly regrettable movement
Towards
Skeletons
Boney Me
Looking at the evil food
I tell it that I hate it and that it will never be me

I tell it I want to be like the flossy ones on magazines
Thin to skinny to boney
Boney me smoking an e-cig
I defeat the evil foods tonight
Surviving on primal back-up spirits
Surviving for the hope of closeness
Maybe
I can waste away all this skin
And finally see my own heart.
Tori Jurdanus May 2014
Ahh, the friend zone.  Have you ever been there? Stuck between wanting and not being wanted by who you are certain must be the love of your life? Well don't you worry your lonely little head any longer, because experts have finally developed a fool-proof way to escape this unfair wasteland void of affection.

Step one:
Admit what has happened.  You, friend, have been friend zoned.  For some unfathomable reason, girl has deemed you, undesirable. Do not be discouraged when she calls you brother.  Instead, accept the challenge of making ****** seem appealing.

Step two:
Spend less time with her.  Make her feel as if she values your company more than you do hers.  She will begin to feel confused and lonely. When she calls, do not pick up until at least the fifth ring.

Step three:
Up your flirting game. If she doesn't respond positively, send her a sarcastic remark via text guilting her into giving you more attention.

Step four:
Change. Change everything about yourself until you lose the person she first befriended.  When she sees you, it will be like looking in the face of a stranger.

Step five:
Break the touch barrier.  Invading a woman's personal space with unwarranted physical gestures is a sure way to make her used to your dominating body movements.  Soon, she should submit to her instincts, and to you.  

Step six:
Stop doing things for her.  You can't expect a girl to want to date you when you already give her everything a boyfriend would and she doesn't even have to put out.  (I mean, the only reason women even have *** is to keep their man around).  Instead, tell her to do something for you, like making a sandwich.

Step seven:
Explain to her why her boyfriend, girlfriend, other love interest, or singleness is not right for you.  I mean, her.  She is, after all, incapable of making her own decisions, or else she would not need to lean on you for advice.  Understand that you are better than anything else she could want, she just doesn't know it yet.

Step eight:
Date other people.  Women easily become jealous of other women.  This will make her small mind react territorially.  Much like step two, this will lead her to feel insecure around you, and she will begin to show you only her most formal, prettiest parts.  

Step nine.
Confess your feelings for her.  Humans in general can never tell when someone is romantically interested.  Overstep boundaries, tell her how you are almost too good for her, and she will never find someone like you.

Step ten.
Congratulations! You've done it.  You, sir, have escaped the friend zone.
She does not look at you when she walks by. She does not call.
You, are no longer her friend.
After Kait Rokowski's, How to Cure a Feminist.
Mary-Eliz Apr 2017
Stop! Stop! I say
You've work to do
Stop! Now! I say,
It's nearly 2:00

Just one more poem
just one more rhyme
It's Saturday
I have time


You're not even dressed
your hair is unbrushed
stop digging, stop finding
you'll find yourself rushed

But her words are so airy
His thoughts are so keen
I must keep on reading
their souls are between


Just come back later
at the end of your day
you'll have earned it, my friend
what do you say?

I'm loath to be leaving
it's so hard you know
to put down my laptop
and let the poems go


They'll still be here later
I'm sure you'll make time
to read some free verse
to check out some rhyme

You win, but I warn you
if I do leave
when I come back to it later
no tricks up your sleeve,

no interruptions
no phone calls, no texts
no "sorry, 'net's down"
wait now, you're next

I want to come back and savor
all the gems that I find
just do me this favor
be ever so kind.


Okay, it's agreed
we'll meet here again
to take up where we left off
say quarter past ten?

*You drive a hard bargain
you're such a drag
but I'll stop now
so you won't have to nag!
Infamous one May 2013
You are doing well things are getting better
Don't compare yourself to others or think you need to live up to their standards
Be thankful for what you have
Work for it making it wirth while
Comeback for more when you fail
Eventually things get easier
If things don't feel right only a matter of time
Good things come to those who wait
It's never late it just happens at the right time
For once I could stand tall
instead of others guilting for what I don't have
Ppl usually talk but now they can't tell me nothing
From being seen as low now treated different
I feel I belong after years of being kept out
New time new environment
everything falls into place
Susan O'Reilly Apr 2013
Avoiding your eyes

their guilting me

my inadvertent sighs

you, I pity

Whatever we had

for me, it’s gone

I’m a coward

we carry on
sad, lost love
I let you in,
You pushed me out.
I built you up,
You filled me with doubt.
I gave you reasons to smile,
You tore me down.
I gave you words of encouragement,
You were the reason behind my frown.
I have kept every secret you told me,
You betray me.
I prevented you from feeling trapped,
You prevented me from being free.
You don't care,
You continue to hurt me,
You were never there.
You pushed me away,
Slowly at first, then all at once,
More and more each day.
Guilting me into staying by your side,
Controlling me like a puppet,
Making my emotions your free roller-coaster ride.
What kind of sick friendship is this?
Am I someone you really trust?
Or is this a friendship that won't be missed?
Dilectus Oct 2013
every word you said
made me feel guilting for thinking
i  should  have  crashed  the  car  harder
i  should  have  made  it  *hurt.
JonahAlonso Jun 2018
You were a story
of loneliness and woe
guilting me into loving you
or something close to it

Striking me down
with your own tempestuous explosion
Bruising me black and blue
bending me at your will
Tearing me apart

You stitched me up loving and tender
and worshiped my putrid words
You carried me worn and weary
from the weight of your passion

Blinding light
that burns the flesh
warms my soul

You have become my one and only truth
David Hasselblad Apr 2019
Soft Spot

Together we make a toxic blend,
Too potent to mend,
Too powerful to end,
Pretend, happiness, waiting for a god send,
Hurt, hope, horror and abuse,
Yet, I call her friend,
Who dangles dollops of devilish emotion,
A dizzying illusion of love,
Opening eyes, I saw clear as day,
Guilting me betrayer the day I sent myself away,
Her venomous words strike my mind bitter,
Bled, bruised, bounced in mental bouts,
Careless whispers caress my cold clouded heart,
Made numb, feeling dumb,
For giving into her another night,
Hindsight, I should’ve tried to fight,
Not let her and indentured demons eat my light,
Wasting another fortnight,
Zero reason to stay a loyal peon,
Each day endless,
every month an eon,
Her word, her law,
A self proclaimed queen,
Adored and feared in esteem,
Using those close,
She lives in a dream,
Bowing to no law, woman or man,
Her wrath boils water into steam,
I blame myself,
Not listenings to red flags sound their alarms,
Created by abuse, lies and emotional self harm,
Her tumbling prickly mind a maze,
Screaming at her demons in empty hallways,
Her partner in crime we poisoned each other,
She’ll stay by your side forever and always,
Crafted chimera we sought another,
Our toxin together brought the most powerful to dismay,
Eyes finally opened,
I began to rue each day,
Feeling more and more horrible,
How could I stay?
Through her I bared many scars,
Yet my mind brings her up a lot,
Though enemy, awful and evil,
Who bore me problems and pain,
She still remains, a soft spot,
Bruised, and remembered with distain,
Makenzie Marie Feb 2019
In your arms I find my home
And a warmth I’ve never known
No cruelty
No harsh words
No excuses from my mouth
No worrying what others heard.
No guilting me for doing nothing wrong
Only support
Only lifting me
Only love
Only hope
Only trust
Only never giving up.
Only this moment
Only, these moments, forever.
Wordfreak May 2016
In my experience,
A song can convey more than words,
Which is why I'm sending you a link,
To something I want you to hear.
You tore me the hell apart,
Said you understand why I left.
So why the **** are you guilting me now?
I'm happier than ever before.
And it seems you're trying to drag me down,
With conventions of your own.
A well placed passive aggressive statement,
A line to guilt trip me.
Listen to the song.
Let it be my legacy to you,
And go away.
#MessagesInMusic
Will Aug 2020
Your arrival was magical to me.
You never said much, or listened too well.
Some days you would wander into my room, just to lay near my bed.
Plopping down onto the ground, quietly laying still.
Somehow your silly visits made me smile, every single time.
Everyday, exactly at 5, you would come into my room and whine.
Out of everyone's room you always chose mine, because I was so easily convinced.
You just wagged your tail and I knew, you wanted some **** food.
I think of your puppy dog eyes, guilting me into yet  another treat.
You are my best friend and best dog; you always will be.
I have loved you so much.
You have changed, gotten old, age has finally caught up with us.
Your fur is patchy and grey, your eyes wander and gaze.
I know I don't have much longer, I feel the day drawing near.
This is not fair, I do not want you to go.
I have lost so much already.
Please.
Muddy.
Please don't leave me with another empty space.
Dedicated to my best friend, Muddy. I wrote this the night before we took him to the vet. Muddy 2006-2020
Nat Lipstadt Nov 2022
1:47am. Standing on my thumb

awakened by my badder bladder, disobeying the rules,  
one reaches  for the tablet’s reassuring whiteness and
its scrolling alerts; ascertain that the world order is yet
extant in a normative disarray, the elections are over
yet not, my sports teams have creaked to losses,
my inner devils are resting nesting in anticipation of another
day of sweet self-torture and guilting for a life full of
sinning and mine failures, a dawning realization grasps
my twilight self, half-awake & somewhat sleepy, that
I am writing poetry in the nether space where rules
and space are permeable, my river of conscience consciousness
flows between the gaps of truth and disfiguring lies, and that
I am standing on my thumb.

Yes, a single shorty, stubby, chubby digit is firmly attached,
arrested onto the screen, a portal tween love stories, podcasts
of human grief, leaking creativity and foundational support,
I am upright, upside down, feet in the air and kept there by
a small undistinguished and unattractive teeny weeny appendage through which hard data, drowsy dreams,
arousal, stories are bytes flowing in conflicting directions,
all at risk, great risk, by defying gravity, and the awful pull
of the accumulated weights of sorrow and grime of wasted opportunities, unbearable weight of lightness & love both
taken and given, potential horror stories, and the deniability
of humanoid excuses is pathetic and inutile, indeed, futile.

my suspended state of betweenness, the past and future,
caught up in animated currents of the perpetual and eternal,
unbelievable fantasy and unrecoverable missed opportunities,
cognizantr of a chasm division entre my failing body~shell and the sparking consciousness that cannot destroyed.

all while upright standing, aloft by a single but critical thumb.

the watch face glows 3:12, this episodic journey will be eradicated, molecularly scattered, permanent only in its
self-destruction and the remaining disquietude of the
unrealized reality of a naissance  and a renaissance
having occurred,

I am no longer awake and never was…

NYC
Thu Nov 10
2020
Brian McDonagh May 2018
Some, guilting myself, use reverse-psychology
To aim for a timely desire
Through patient methods…

The “I-don’t-want-to-be-a-bother” thought
Chains me down to be present in a social crowd,
And put on the cute quiet-boy card.
How is that any more sociable than being social?
I don’t know…even I don’t understand my ways.

I’ve also put on self-depriving airs
To deviously slurp compassion from people
When I wanted to hear that people care for me,
Even though, obviously, just being present
Should be caring enough.

Let this be a caveat lest others
Fall for the shy stunts.
Using poetry as a medium for confession I think helps me learn more about and from myself.
f Oct 2018
an indistinct pang of guilt
when i hear birds chirping in the sun
and they sound nothing like the ones back home
and yet everything about them reminds me
of home

unbeknownst to these birds,
their chatter carries me across a continent
and across a sea
to a home where there are pocket sized versions of my family and i
where my grandmother is busying herself in the kitchen
and my uncle fiddles with the tiny TV facing the living room
filled with a cast of colorful characters
much brighter than anything this TV could give us

unbeknownst to these birds,
they carry me to a sand filled tent
where a single ray of sunlight enters from a gap in the entrance
and illuminates the book in my hands
and outside, their chatter creates a beautiful symphony
punctuated by the crash of waves on the shore
unbeknownst to these birds,
they warm my heart far more than any sun could

i hate these birds
the ones in my plastic backyard, outside my plastic house
guilting me into remembering;
this is not a home,
this is not my home.
Orakhal Jun 2020
The subtle cuts high sail
Nips to the heel of a trepid surge
A courtesy bends in its open fern
Recoiling its claim into remembrance
Heaping pose on the dead dark glut
Neath its oaring heave

In base the bluff kerbs no intent to a swift swallow
Perching its down on the widows yern
Its close fervent smish haps placid
Again the blighty moor
Stone as cold in its nest of negation

Pressing her pulse to symphatic  nuture
Her tempered tender tongues its way
Taming its shrew to the cain of Eel and arrow
Its slip , sharp across the eery veil of guilting
Pierces deep to the dull *****
Birthing its pangs upon the sickly clad
Thickened to stew in slithe and slither


Ruse
Hollows pale
Filling every mercy to its brim
Belting its breath to a brazin bow of command
Its fleet stale as marrow
Plunder its slackened writ
Steadfast on beam
Her Blood Red Compass
Brandi the Brave Sep 2021
I learned most things quickly now that I have a job.
The simple things are easy to earn when the person you are friends with mutually cares for and loves you.
Not through manipulation. Not through co-dependency.
Not through personal gain. Not through allowing rumors to spread.
Not through letting yourself be vulnerable while the other person reveals nothing at all. Not through them guilting you to trust them.
Not through believing their ******* thinking they are better than anyone. Because friendship and love in general is a selfless thing which worth everything that it costs when you aren't being taken advantage of by people who can't humble themselves to the point of mutual respect and equality of effort.
Because friendship and love in general requires both people understanding nonsense of life by which the small things are the big things. Because friendship and love in general isn't about selfishly taking the feelings of love as an illusion since love itself is a reality of becoming greater for the good of the friendship.
Maybe I am not mad for wanting simple things and becoming mature at a young age.
Maybe I am just better at seeing through people's masks because I know what real friendship is.
Alex Oct 2019
I was born at midnight to a full moon,
the stars engulfing the sky.
The fourth Wednesday of the month,
two days after spring,
in a run-down hospital
somewhere in Kathmandu

I don’t remember much
What I do
I wish I didn’t
My memories like shattered glass,
bits and pieces scattered across my mind.

Our house
Mud walls and straw roofs
Cold hard floors,
blankets laid out in a neat pile
Pillows made of leftover straw and crumbled paper
Sound of crickets
At night
Like a lullaby

Long hours alone,
the feeling of isolation
before I knew what it was.

Long walks to school,
and worn-out shoes
that we could never afford to replace.
The stick at the corner of the classroom,
glaring at us,
mocking us,
“Who do I get to hit today”

Screaming and yelling,
Heavy words that leave a mark
“If I wasn’t tied down to you”
“I swear to god I’ll leave you”
“After everything I’ve done for you”

Leading me down this path of self- destruction
Stuck in prison of self-loathing
A cycle of abuse that I put myself through
Guilting myself into taking on more than I can handle
“After everything they’ve done for me”

— The End —