"indecisiveness" poems
_“I dont know”_
was my response
when you asked me if
I still love you
the world stopped
for the both of us
as I wondered on the thought
of me, being selfish
or being true
and yours upon the
realization that
_maybe, just maybe_
my love for you
is fleeting
neither of us was speaking
and the silence echoed
through the depths of my head
and you uttered
_‘oh’_
that moment, I knew
that you gave up
on me, and my inner
indecisiveness
I crumbled upon
the guilt of telling you
those words, so instead
I let my tongue do
the talking and said
_'maybe'_
cause it was never hard to say
but it is always hard to face
the reality of being responsible
to someone
as if I have to breathe
through somebody’s pair of lungs
and scratch the loneliness
with someone else’s fingers
we parted
I changed numbers
cause I had to stay afloat
on the clouds of solitude
free from attachments.
Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 6:14 PM UTC
For all of the things I know,
there are billions I don't.
So when I say I don't know,
whether I want to be with you,
always know,
the indecisiveness is deafening.
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 2:05 AM UTC
~
*She stands on the roof of the world, a ship in a bottle. She likes to wave at passing boats, inviting 120 volts to raise their sails.
Words unbosomed -- her attempt of blotting out the sun and those bloodletting habits.
Her eyelids say, "Only the disquieting muses have time for me." So she writes like an umbrella, shading reality; remembering pluck and luck stories about bumblebees, lovingly wrapped in Tiffany-blue ribbon and paper.
Father used to solve her every contemplation. Now indecisiveness in what she asks. Now indecisiveness in arbitrary tasks.
And she and her negative capability are the last two awake at a slumber party, giving commonplace words the allure of secrecy.
You see, she is only harmless when she sleeps.*
~
Dec 9, 2023
Dec 9, 2023 at 7:49 PM UTC
do you ever stare at the computer
an endless gaze into white
That feeling of indecisiveness
How can I turn my emotions in genius
I wish that moment
Could be a poem
Sep 13, 2025
Sep 13, 2025 at 10:00 PM UTC
The night approaches swiftly, like a tiger on the prowl,
As the night moves forward you can hear the hoots of Great Horned Owl.
The hours pass by and the clock keeps on ticking,
And here I lay on the couch just thinking.
In my time of relaxation I pondered and I thought,
Is the path that I’m on a wise one or not?
Hour after hour I begin to feel sleepy.
So I rush to my bed, relaxed, until I feel something beneath me.
In a rage the room turns pitch black, with flashes of red and yellow.
And in a panic I jump off my bed and run like a crazed fellow.
The door slams shut and my panic becomes deeper,
Until I hear the voice of a mysterious twisted creature.
“He says be wise with decisions that are made with haste,
You would never want a fortunate opportunity to go to waste.
Never feel forced to be on time with what you choose,
Because it will not be the respect of others, in which you lose.
Indecisiveness is wisdom, which with time will bloom,
So from here on out do not spend your days in gloom.
If these words are not followed, a different life you shall live.
A life in which you are selfish and refuse to charitably give.
One that is chronological and filled with bland affairs,
A life that is careless and lacking in truths or dares.
In the blink of an eye light pours in from spontaneous lightening,
And in a matter of seconds this all feels more frightening.
I turn to open the door, but the door will not open,
Scared for my life, I scream “This isn't the path I have chosen.”
As I lift my head up and turn around, the monster in no longer there,
At last my room is filled with light, it was all just an insightful nightmare.
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 6:06 PM UTC
Indecisiveness
enough as it is,
I stay in the confines of my comfort,
choices I begun to prolong.
Waiting for something
probably won’t come.
I walk back and forth,
And climbing ladders
- up and down,
an unchanging routine
draining the life-force
of my pretend smile.
Sluggishly the plot-holes
starts to appear
messing the careful laid-out script
I master to act.
Barriers starts to crack, little by little
I gather the courage
to put the imaginary duck-tape
to hold them together
a little while longer
until the final choice, is made sure
without fear and hesitation.
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 12:17 AM UTC
buried by my thoughts
yours came to visit again
the warmth of your chest
the deepness of your breath
all came back to me
like a crashing wave so strong
I'm drowning below the surface
down here
I want to trace your hands
whisper in your ears
and put it all behind us
hear the gentle strokes of your mind
painting the love you bear for me
curl up into the depths of your soul
so you can always protect me
why is it when I say your name
it pierces my ears
and I feel pain through my whole body
why is it that despite rationality
this doesn't seem rational
and indecisiveness takes over me
I can't seem to articulate this feeling
but I haven't forgotten
and I never will
and with a heavy heart
a heavy mind
and soul
I'm so sorry baby,
but we must have unfinished business
a.s.
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 3:44 PM UTC
3 may 17
sincerely hoping to tear this page out.
i promised myself i would never write about you because i know that once this pen grazes paper, the thought of you will be permanently engraved somewhere, and although not physically, but mentally and emotionally in the depths of my brain, figuratively.
my outlets these days are quite scarce. i tore out my sheets and tried to erase the thought of you, of our intimacy. but what i've ceased to comprehend is that it's not that simple. i can change my sheets, remove my posters, switch my nightlight, remodel my whole room, but, that doesn't change it. change the fact that you still consume my thoughts like a virus, spread throughout my body, filling my core to the brim with inadequacy.
i love you, i hate you.
it is a constant cycle of indecisiveness that floods me with feelings of deep desire, love, and infatuation, to the less constant but still present, feelings of rage, anger, pain, and resentment projected towards you.
i can't wait until the day.
the day when you are either out of my life for good...
or
prove to me that love still exists.
-v.la
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 11:58 PM UTC
I should apologize for the days I am withdrawn. This is not what you signed up for. I should apologize for when I don't want to speak or communicate with touch or when I want to be without you but also do not. My indecisiveness is appalling: and I should apologize for that. But today I do not want words. I do not want to be felt because I feel you grabbing and pulling instead of caressing and comforting. You have not done anything wrong. I am just mean. I am just inside myself today and when you want to know what is up I want you to accept that I say the sky instead of pressing for more. My thoughts are poison right now. You shake me like a magic eight ball and I keep thinking try again later but saying not likely. I have the capacity to be kind but my words are pinpricks in your chest and every time I claw you with my numbness I inwardly cringe because I don't mean it, I am sorry, and I should apologize. But I can't. I can not bring myself to vocalize that I am not okay because you'll want to help and I don't want to be okay. Not yet. I want to hide in my closet and cry without company. I want time to myself today. But I don't want to hurt you. I am sorry. You are no burden. I am withdrawing. Not from you, but from me. I don't want to be kind, or resilient, or strong today. I just want to fold into myself, I want to be small and insignificant. I am tired of being fun and happy, it's tiring work. I need time to be low without an interrogation. I just want to be empty for a moment. And I should apologize.
Jul 14, 2017
Jul 14, 2017 at 11:39 AM UTC
everything about you screamed infinite
the type of person I could spend forever trying to figure out
sunsets and sunrises pass by like fast trains, and my minds still reeling
a photographic memory is a blessing and a curse but right now its a gift
i can remember every word spoken, every laugh and smile
and i play it back like a movie
the kind of spirit that makes you forget the hurt
the universe cries but you remind me that it laughs too
coexistence of bodies and minds, sweet and surreal
worlds colliding at a rapid pace, they collide
they become one
everything about you screamed infinite
everything about me screamed indefinite
indecisiveness and paranoia floods my veins
love and knowing floods yours
a scale sits between the palms of our hands
and is level, for we are balanced
I lift my pen and let my hand guide my mind
my fingers already know you and they haven’t felt you
yet my page screams your name wholeheartedly
vast space was left empty in the corners of my brain
but they’re filled now, even in the dustiest of places
everything about you screamed infinite
Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 9:38 PM UTC
The elephant in the room
has taken a liking to the indecisiveness
of its patronage
Unsure words
to match unsure feelings
Fear of what lies ahead
blurred by whats behind
Uncomfortable experiences, they're new to me
You want someone, but cant be sure
if its worth the risk
So you hide behind a veil of indecisiveness
waiting, hoping, for them to open you up
with the key to your heart
but you never gave it
so they leave
and all your left with
is sobbing what ifs
and whys
All your left with now
is what was buried underneath the lies
you fed yourself
Indecisiveness kills
Feb 7, 2014
Feb 7, 2014 at 2:42 AM UTC
So, why is it that life seems to go on without me? It seems like I miss the bus because I hesitate with almost every decision I make. I always try to calculate every possible angle before making a choice, and I take so long to do it, that whatever opportunity I might've had disappears. Or, I make the wrong decision and pine over it like a dog licking its wounds.
When it comes to things I should think about before I jump into them, that's when I don't think. I just do it. I think that route is more risky, but I can't get past square one with the first option of thinking it all out. On the other hand, my decision-making process doesn't have to be dichotomistic either. There are more than two ways to think things through. I think it's just been really hard for me to find a balance because I tend to go back and analyze the results of my actions regardless.
Needless to say, I second-guess a lot. and third and fourth guess. Indecisiveness is one of my weaknesses. And yet, if you take me shopping I can be in and out of 10 stores in an hour and come out with exactly, and only what I went in for.
sigh
Emotional/life decisions are where I have problems. People can't help make those for you, and you have to deal with the consequences because you're the one who chose to put yourself through it. Maybe that'll be one of the things I'll get better at when I move off to college.
So many shifting tiles under my feet that I'm not sure where to step. If I second guess, the tile under me may shift and I'll fall. But then the one that I jump onto may also move before I step onto it.
Apr 4, 2010
Apr 4, 2010 at 11:55 AM UTC
Swinging on a pendulum
back and forth and again and again
Forever wandering in the hallways of monotony
Paralysed by my own indecisiveness
perhaps I should pause
before I dive in.....
Into the wilderness of reality
Sep 12, 2013
Sep 12, 2013 at 2:24 PM UTC
Neither an optimist nor a pessimist
What an inner indecisiveness
I am reminded of the ocean
Flowing
Never fixed
A bottle is no place for the sea
You were not meant to be contained
Craving the freedom of your salty home
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 11:53 PM UTC
thanks to the basketful of maybe's
i collected
when we were one
it would seem
i'd be well equipped to deal
with the next one's indecisiveness
oh well.
Feb 20, 2019
Feb 20, 2019 at 2:43 PM UTC
My head is confused
By the actions of my heart
Indecisiveness
Nothing is certain anymore
Chase two balloons and lose both
Jun 29, 2010
Jun 29, 2010 at 2:59 PM UTC
I was never your protector, you abused my stoic nature
Madcap ****** for days on end, and copious substances, abused
The blaring music, disturbing the peace, rattling windows
and you dismantled my structure, and yours alongside it
I am just a house
I was never the crutch you needed, nor was I a friend
Remember those long nights on the town with raving girls
and you were irate when I fell to the floor; rich man's art piece
Now you snivel and scratch because you flushed me in haste
I am just *******
Pair me up with old white friends in speedball imprudence
Meticulous measurements in early days but you grew reckless
Now your ghastly macabre silhouette on back alley walls
Is all that remains in this dead town that you still saunter in
I am just ******
You put too much emphasis on me, to defend the sentient
and you stare me down on the kitchen table, questioning
You hold me close and I feel your brow, indecisiveness
and now I'm caressing your temple; bemoaning barrel
I am just a gun
You sit and attribute voices to the voiceless and inanimate
because for years you have repressed your depression
When you should have asked for help and not escapism
and today you end it all, alone and weeping for something you know not what
I am just your psyche
Dec 12, 2013
Dec 12, 2013 at 10:04 AM UTC
Everything begins with I,
Impulsivity and Indecisiveness.
These two words go together, my
Impulsivity and Indecisiveness.
They make me say or not be able to,
Impulsivity and Indecisiveness.
They usually come in a pair, the two,
Impulsivity and Indecisiveness.
I know that they will go away,
Impulsivity and Indecisiveness.
But some days they just flood my brain,
Impulsivity and Indecisiveness.
Nov 20, 2018
Nov 20, 2018 at 3:23 PM UTC
I could never get a straight answer from her, the words didn’t turn crooked at the edges of her mouth. They just didn’t come out… Her forehead would wrinkle, creating a fold at the delta of her brow and nose. She would close her eyes and occasionally flash those electric blues in my direction. I could not help but admire how beautiful she looked trapped in her own indecisiveness. This woman would be the death of me, but **** it, I loved her, I loved her so much that my unanswered questions would never be enough until she confessed to me, she was in love.
Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 at 9:24 AM UTC
Where I’m From
I am from mosquito lotion
From Burt’s Bees and soft jazz.
I am from dancing with my grandfather on the wooden floor
(My feet, bare, pink with tiny toes
Stepping on his shiny shoes as we twirled.)
I am from the rainy mornings
The hiding places
Where no one thinks to look,
And I sit and wait - alone but not lonely.
I am from the indecisiveness and good humour
From the boy who owned only wooden shoes and the lady with the diamonds
I’m from forget me nots,
And the kiss me goodnights.
I’m from the hurt knees and Starry Starry Nights
With a special dedication to you
And I’ll believe in what I want to, thank you very much.
I am from the middle seat to the left of the dinner table,
Second-is-best and Jollibee.
From the comfortable silence
To the “authentic” family ghost stories.
The childhood my father gave up to be able to grow up
And support his family.
I am from the crumbly track,
Fastening sharp spikes on the bottom of my shoes,
The jumpy nerves as I approach my starting block.
From the thump of my heart, my shoes slapping the ground in a rhythm I know so well.
From the rush, the thrill of crossing that finish line.
Watching the day surrender to night, my team stands beside me.
And still I am running
On my shelf I keep a blank notebook
Waiting to be filled with secret fears, adventures and bigger-than-life dreams.
No one knows it exists.
If they find it, they’ll know I want to escape.
I am from these fitful nights,
The toss and turn but don’t wake me ups.
The wanting to be a dream catcher, not just a dream passerby.
In dreams I find no one molding me for a legacy, for a perfect GPA, for a successful future;
Complete control.
Jul 19, 2012
Jul 19, 2012 at 11:14 AM UTC
I do not fit
between straight lines
and words that twinge
metallic and cold
as they strike notes
upon my open mind
and upturned palms.
I do not fit between
cities that shriek,
burning inexplicably
and wide open spaces
that stretch repetitively
on past your periphery.
I do not fit between
envelope folds
and crisp little notes,
crying at all the indecisiveness
of my worn edges.
I do not fit between
blue skies that mean nothing,
and a white hot sun
burning holes in it,
overexposing this bleached
and silent landscape.
I do not fit between
tightly packed cubicles
and hungry eyes.
My body moves about
with marionette precision
as the mind screams
with contempt
cool and sharp as glass,
white hot and fleeting,
lustfully arcing
into a shadow of identity.
Jul 1, 2017
Jul 1, 2017 at 1:33 PM UTC
I sit on top of my rooftop
eating honey and smelling flowers
wishing on the stars and the
cracks in the pavement
for a chance to become a bee
if you want to give up, go ahead
I'll try to pick up the
pieces as best I can
but just know I'll
always put myself first
besides of course
when I put you before everything else
which will happen fairly often
if not always
but other than that
it's about me
I know you are sick of my
indecisiveness and irritability
and I know nobody thinks that I
notice when I start to spin out
but I really can feel the difference
in the same way
I can tell what color a rose
is by the way it smells
and the gender of the
bee by the way it stings
on my pessimistic days
I can tell if a rose is dead
by how bad the thorns
make my fingers bleed
there are talents behind
this shaking knee
and inability to sleep
ones you will never see
If you are having a bad day
I can try to help it turn around
but just know once I start
I'll never stop
x
Jul 9, 2017
Jul 9, 2017 at 3:26 AM UTC
16.
What a small weight for the most important gas,
that is keeping us alive.
I was 16 when I realized that my mom
had forever been my biggest supporter.
I was 16 and I was still holding my fingers crossed behind my back,
hoping that Santa was real.
I'm the hidden meaning behind good reasons
that have paved the way toward bad choices.
For I have realized, sitting silently in the corner,
that we are all forced to realize our
own self destruction.
Like the building and the wrecking ball,
of which I am often both.
I am your overspoken words and unsaid thoughts.
I am not the beautiful bare trees in the winter,
but instead I am your poisonous dinner.
I am the passion behind tears
and the emotion behind screams.
I am the thoughts that keep you up at night,
and your cold, bare feet.
I resemble a constant string of avoidance and indecisiveness.
I am your dewy eyes and groggy voice at 7:30 in the morning.
I am nothing but a blinking statue.
I am 16 years worth of unanswered questions.
Yet in 16 years will all I be is
another 16 years older?
I am the epitome of drowning without water,
and not to spoil the ending for you,
but I still have 16 years worth of faith,
that everything will be okay.
May 19, 2013
May 19, 2013 at 6:56 PM UTC
The crack starts beneath my feet,
weaves down the street,
ends in a shadowed horizon
Bleak
I'm five slips away from some sort of leap
One breath per beat, beat,
beat.
Small steps. Indecisiveness surfaces from the stream. Time trickles.
The river is behind me, I want to jump backwards.
*Flip. Finally. Face up, **** up, fall. Fail. Flail. Fight. Faster. Faster.*
Whispers echo across rocks.
Whines like sirens
My fingertips are encased in firelight
What have these hands seen?
They dance so freely
Fright in the form of leaden limbs
at the center of a maze
I want the water to take me away
Spinning blindly. Take a risk? Make a bet?
What are the stakes?
Cracks in my bones, fatigued from falling.
What's gonna break?
Eyes are unfocused, the world is a blur, my mind is a haven.
Heaven is a trap.
There is no map.
There is no road.
There are no rivers, no streams, no rocks, no echoes, no moments to take with me as I continue to fall.
Time never stopped.
Time never started.
I never stood still.
Take what you will
Aug 29, 2012
Aug 29, 2012 at 12:32 AM UTC