"infuriates" poems
I want to be available
to the people who love me.
I want to be there
emotionally, physically, financially.
I want to be their shoulder
their crutch, their solace.
The person who does not drop anything.
I want to give the feeling
of lightness to every being walking this earth.
Every human, creature, and plant
as they grow up fast.
I want to be nutrition,
a steadfast superhuman
so unfazed, so cool-headed.
It infuriates me
that I'm not this person.
It should be so easy to give.
If I just get my **** together,
I've repeated on and off again
the last five years.
But somehow, I always manage
to waste enough time
to get there,
but late.
When I have nothing
left, a hollow person
someone gave too
many tries.
Still, the people I love
tell me I'm wise,
an angel body.
Like they must justify,
who I am,
the imposter
the transient,
always planning,
for when she can
run away again.
Feb 26, 2018
Feb 26, 2018 at 11:53 PM UTC
Don't tell me I'm pretty, I did not choose the way my features aligned themselves, or the texture of my hair, or the color on my skin. Tell me I have a beautiful mind, tell me you love my honesty. Tell me the way the rain makes me happy, makes you happy, compliment me on things I've worked on, on things I've developed. Don't tell me I'm ugly, I did not choose the way my features aligned themselves, or the texture of my hair, or the color on my skin. Tell me the way I enter a room like a hurricane infuriates you, tell me my tactlessness hurts you and everyone around me, tell me my inappropriate mouth is offensive and crude. Critique me on things I can change, make me a better person. I don't care how you think I look.
Mar 18, 2015
Mar 18, 2015 at 1:22 AM UTC
Ready and itching
Everything is too far out of reach
Struggling to get further
Telling them all I want out
Losing my ******* mind
Everyone infuriates me
Struggling to get anywhere
Stuck
Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 9:22 PM UTC
vague games enable and our liturgies co-mingle in an inkling of the I.
your mind succumbs to the soul. the rabid rain is ironic and the font you spell ' god ' with
is all scrawl and scrumptious. you lump this dream into your dolphin of Delphi
and squeak cute symphonies of deep brood.
you choose your Oblivion.
and that's how Angels kiss. they force the Word through your Animus
and greet your weakness with squinty eyes and Lion's breath.
you're the next best thing since that one thing that had no soul for god to play with.
it never complained. you might look and you might not see
what you're not supposed too. but i know you'll be happy with lemon-drops
and long dark naps.
that's how we do,
like a crispy pillow is a cloud with a lobotomy
and all my barbed wire is wine.
Like i'm the king of unbearable sublime. you anoint the fallen. i spike the punch, judy. you sunshine.
eulogies wet the pavement. darth mauls
the halls of our peril
and the dry
sparrows
you had no love but you had a thing that went thump
when you met her. and some other cocka-mamy thing.
and your narrow view
of the wide ha ha and the mute " **** this "
and why not?
we're all caught in the same frame and the gorgons are massive. you have to elect a hero to laugh at Death with and might get a girl.
you're nothing at all and that infuriates the reality you were dreamt with. you have no kin, but your family hasn't been.... you were unhinged
from the stark grim and the tide pool. why do you think i say things that ain't been language but has always been lingua nova ?
why would i lie ? this is the scepter of the vengeful design and the glee demons of first love sipping from a chalice of lost love
with closed eyes. this is the pier and the ocean. the dime store Picasso hanging the velvet Elvis with the perfect circles
with the little
cube inside...
aching for flamingos.
or not.
Jun 23, 2013
Jun 23, 2013 at 8:09 AM UTC
I look away as the words fall into place like pieces of a puzzle
One that I tried and failed over and over again
The bigger picture was unseen by these eyes till then
The truth laid bare, yet unbelievable at best
Ignorant of the ways of the world, until faith was placed in the wrong hands
Books will never teach you lessons the way people do
Even when they don't mean to
It had been a long time since a beat had been skipped
There's hope yet, says my friend
As we drive down memory lane, he stops and takes a hard look at the road he's driven
As the eyes focus once again on the road ahead, there's no regret, no longing
The walls seem to be further apart than they used to
There's a scream, blood chilling and euphoric
Bloodshot though they might be, those eyes inspire and make you wonder
There's a calm that infuriates the sea
Soon a storm brews and yet the eyes don't blink
Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 9:03 PM UTC
How can I move on?
Jus how when I fell hard for this boy
This boy that irritates me
This boy I think about all the time
This boy that infuriates my mind
Engulfs my heart
Captures my soul
This power he holds
And he doesn't even know
This love I feel
Can it be real?
It can't be
Because it hasn't been that long
When I meet you and I melted
Your smile lured me in
Your humor stole me away
Your love I so crave
I wait and wait
Patiently
Silently
I wait
Everyday
Wondering am I not enough
Maybe I'm not
Because I thought I was
I thought I gave u my love
My good stuff
I tried to make u feel like a man
My man
But you was jus playing
Right play me was the game
But how can I believe that
When I feel something with you
And I know you feel it too
I know you feel when we make love
Feeling high as the heavens above
Or maybe I'm obsessing over you ***
But no no it can't be that
Bc I crave you in ways
I haven't craved another man
I crave your mind
The very essence of you
I crave your soul
Baby I jus crave you
Every flaw I hate
That drives me insane
I crave your happiness
I pray you succeed
I crave your love
I crave bearing your seed
I don't know its crazy all this love for you I have
But everyone says I'm crazy
Or Lusting
Because you give me things I never had
But honestly the ***
**** it's good
It's life changing
My emotional high
My feeling of desire
And ******* you for days
And oh baby the ways.
The very ways I wanna **** you
You can't begin to imagine
So maybe it's lust
Bc I jus want u
Bc no one knows how to make me feel good but you
But I know it's not the ***
Bc the *** is great
But **** baby it's you
I can't explain it
But it's you
Everything about you belongs to me
And i don't know why and how but it does
I want you for myself
And it makes me hate me
Because you make me weak
A **** fool
A fool for you
So every night I pray for strength
The strength to not crave this boy anymore
The strength to move on
The strength to not let his smile
Break me down
His dimpled smile that caught my heart
So I'll jus play this part
Boy breaks good girls heart
It doesn't restart
Bc she can't move on
But when she does
Boy falls apart
**** another broke heart
Oct 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015 at 12:21 PM UTC
In the woods, I stood and ran.
Watched and blinked, watched again and everything
Changed.
I ran through every twisted maze of vines and stones
Protruding from the ground and the air around me,
As if I was in a dream.
I thought back to everything:
The first night, the first awkward hug, the first nervous kiss.
The way we moved and touched, the times we got lost in
Conversations or arguments, the times I refused to dance
And the times when you refused to tell me
What was bothering you.
I remembered the unspeakables and the times when we played
Like innocent children in an adult way.
I remembered every detail, every thing you had ever said to me
Like it was carved into stone.
And I began to miss you.
I looked through a clearing of wildflowers
And I imagined a cabin, just big enough for the two of us and our children.
the little ones running free by the waterfalls and through the wildflowers
While I sit and write on the porch, your head in my lap.
So quiet. So serene.
I dreamed of nights when the children are away at their grandparents'
and we had the house to ourselves, dimly lit,
And the faint sound of screaming to the guitars and drums it matches.
We are still the same as we are now, but responsible,
Older.
It was because of those fantasies that I realized how much
I loved you. How much I do love you and always will.
Even though it doesn't seem like it,
I love the way you look at me. I love when you tell me I'm beautiful.
I love when you hug me when I am upset,
But infuriates me that I can not stay angry at you.
I love the shimmer in your eyes when you sit and stare,
And the way your pupils dilate when you come closer to me.
I love how rough you are because you know I wont break,
And I adore how gentle you can be.
And as I was reading today, I realized
Why you appeal to me as much as you do.
You are not the type that most girls look for, though you should be.
You appeal to me because of everything I love about you,
And everything I love about you makes you
The living, breathing version of the man in my books.
You are the hero that saved me,
cracked open the shell over my soul and poured out the remnants of
The whole smile I once had.
You made something of it.
You made something of me when I thought I'd have nothing left.
After everything I have seen and experienced with you by my side,
I still have so much to learn.
I have so much to discover, And most of that is
Trying to realize how far my love for you will go.
After everything, this still feels like new.
The innocence and the questions. It's no mystery,
But it is foreign enough to be my home,
The place where I am supposed to be.
Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 10:00 PM UTC
Deformity of rationale’s depletion of reserve
Cast derelict to the wind,
A vacant stare’s indifference states
A reluctance to rescind.
For terms spat forth in anger’s heat
Have cut the issues thrice,
So reconciliation’s overtures
Just cannot cut the ice.
To bake the cake of spleen so vile
Has soured the very meal,
And words of curt contrition
Now, seem trite and quite unreal.
Retraction treads a hopeless path
Offended ears refuse
And apology’s bland excess
Just infuriates to abuse.
The battle ground awaits you
As the bright red poppies sway,
Do you gird yourself for bloodshed
Or turn and walk away?
Remember, there’s tomorrow
Where a day just could well rise,
To promise reappraisal’s hopes
…Forgiveness and surprise?
To hell with it Methuselah
Let Trumpets scream their din,
I long to sate revenge’s thirst
Make Anger’s War begin!
Marshalg
Approaching the ragged end of anger.
9 May 2013
© 2013 Marshal Gebbie
May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 3:25 AM UTC
I need to figure out this whole "alone" thing.
Because every moment away from you,
feels like an eternity.
I am sick with a cold, and cannot take care of myself.
And as tired as I have been all day,
This twin sized bed is too big without you.
This relationship will last.
If even just to prove wrong all those people telling me
that none of my relationships are a serious thing.
I want nothing more than to share you with everyone in my life.
I have moved on from my own past. Why must the people around me dwell on it?
In one group, you are the celebrity.
Everyone looks to you as the nice guy, the funny guy, and the awesome guy.
To me, you're my hero.
You make me the person I've always wanted to be.
Together, we are invincible.
Around my group, you are the 'other guy.'
I'm supposed to be with Preston still, and I just can't be.
He changed as soon as I dumped him.
Apparently I wasn't important enough for those changes to happen earlier.
Or he finally has discovered the log in his own eye.
For all the splinters he accused I had in mine, maybe now he won't be blinded by his own ignorance.
Yet, you are punished for all of this.
For everything that happened between Preston and I.
I am happy being with you, and you are hardly allowed to set foot in my room here,
let alone stay the night.
It infuriates me how my own roommates would rather me be alone than happy,
because I proved them right.
Both of them told me I was too good for Preston.
They were secretly the votes that helped me decide to move on.
But it wasn't their way.
So why must you be punished?
Please come back home soon.
I need you beside me, whispering in my ear that everything will be okay.
I need you telling me that we are invincible together.
Logan, I need you.
Jan 21, 2014
Jan 21, 2014 at 4:23 AM UTC
Well what was I supposed to do?
Fight?
You really think I'm that crazy, that fearless, that brave?
They say there are three kinda of heartbreak.
No.1 When someone is clumsy with your heart and drops it, breaking it into 1000 pieces.
No.2 When you break someones heart. Having to look into their eye and turn them away.
No.3 When your heart breaks everyday by watching the person you love love someone else.
These are all viable theories but I disagree.
We are the breakers of out own hearts.
We are responsible for our own catastrophes,
and thats just it.
Maybe thats why it hurts so bad,
because its my fault.
I do it to myself.
I probably shouldn't be so hard on myself though.
If you're hurting now its because you did it,
you alone.
I won't ever know though.
Maybe thats what really hurts.
The so many "ifs".
The so many questions.
Perhaps I get my sad sop of a life published one day
and by fortune you find yourself reading it.
Perhaps the assumption of your affections for me infuriates you,
or perhaps you weep for loves long lost.
Perhaps in the future in we cross paths again when we're ready.
When we're good and ready.
Or we don't,
and I don't,
and you don't care,
you never cared.
I was right,
its the questions.
Why do you think people enjoy adrenaline rushes so much?
Is it the surge of fear,
impending death,
or the relief that follows?
Why do we keep hurting ourselves?
Because it feels so ****** good when it stops.
Real Nirvana isn't the answering of the questions,
but the decision to stop asking them.
Unfortunately enough every thought is tainted with your ghost.
You follow me around,
your name incessantly whispered behind my back.
So until I reach Nirvana is a lifetime away.
One in which I hope you return into
because I'm afraid I do like you a whole lot and I'm afraid I do not like it one bit.
Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 6:37 PM UTC
I'm a victim, and;
I'm angry about it.
I'm enraged that I identify myself as such.
It infuriates me to think of myself this way.
It isn't an excuse.
It's not my fault;
That I still feel the betrayal like it was yesterday.
That I still flinch and cower when I think about it.
That my body may be healed, but my mind will forever be scarred.
But it was what I was led to believe.
And I'm ashamed;
That I let myself be angry.
That I let myself feel betrayed.
That I will always bear this scar.
But it is not my shame.
It's a part of who I am now;
It has made me stronger.
It has forced me to find my voice, and allowed me to speak out.
It has shown me that it may always be a part of me.
But it is not who I am.
I am a victim; of your crime.
My anger; is the result of your actions.
My shame; stems from your shameful acts.
After all this time, I realize, you were the victim;
To your jealousy; of my power.
You took away my power;
Tried to claim it as your own.
I have reclaimed my voice; and it is you who is powerless.
I am a victim; of yours; no more.
You hold no power over me.
My voice will be heard.
Jan 8, 2018
Jan 8, 2018 at 9:05 AM UTC
You hate it when I stare at you
I know.
But you don't understand that
When I look at you
The world
It just...
It just stops.
It stops and nothing else exists except for you
And my eyes looking at you.
There is nothing else.
The people in the room
Melt away.
The worries I have?
All *******
There's no yesterday
No tomorrow
No differences that can tear us apart
Or tear my eyes off you.
You make everything else
Distant
And insignificant
Compared to the magnitude of my
Love
For you.
And the beauty and depth and wonders
Of the soul that I see
In your eyes.
I see your pain
And your joy;
I notice your laughter and your struggles and all the things that intrigue you
And all of it fascinates me.
I want to know all of it.
I want to know what turns you on,
I want to know what makes you click,
I want to know what you think about
When you have long car rides to yourself.
I want to know what infuriates you
I want to know what on earth could turn your beautiful eyes into fires of hatred and loathing,
Or melt them into pools of the softest adoration.
I want to know your future,
And what you see in it.
And I want to know if you prefer blue Jell-O or red.
And do you ever wish you were short
Just so you could always win at hide-and-go-seek?
Or maybe as tall as a redwood so that you would never have to wonder how a bird sees the world.
If you could go to the moon, would you?
Or would you stay here, in mock safety, to welcome home those who went in your place?
If you could have one super power
Would you care to hear everyone's thoughts
Or would you want to be able to run
Fast as a speeding bullet
Away from here.
I want to know your wildest fantasies
And can we make them a reality together.
I want to know your past
I want to know what makes you who you are
And what brought you here
To me.
I want to know everything
Hold back nothing
But not until you're ready.
When I look at you
I just want to talk.
Forever.
About everything and nothing
And when I look at you I want to sit in silence
Because that's comfortable too.
When I look at you
I want to spill my soul
Because I know you'd catch it.
I can see it
In your eyes.
When I look at you
I draw from your strength
I refresh from your smiles
And I remember who I am.
When I look at you
You are the only thing that exists.
You
And my eyes looking at you.
And it is truly beautiful.
You are truly beautiful.
And that
Is why I stare.
May 18, 2013
May 18, 2013 at 12:16 AM UTC
How can I sleep, when every time I close my eyes nightmares haunt me?
What scares me the most is the they've already come true.
And now my fear is of the past repeating itself.
I awake crying, craving your comfort and understanding.
In the end I'm left a lone because you become angry,
Wishing that I would forget the horrible act you had committed.
Your wish is hopeless because forgetting???
No, never.
It's so hard to trust you like I once did.
You say it was stupid, and an act of anger.
That you were just needing a "stress reliever".
All due to an argument that was simply nothing.
Your revenge? You got it.
You surpassed your goal,
Threw our wonderful relationship out the window.
Now trusting you is almost impossible.
Every thought of that day infuriates me.
Every day, every night, it haunts me.
There was so much between us, to you I suppose,
Wasn't anything at all.
Nothing will ever go back to how it used to be.
Looking at the consequences you set up for yourself,
Is it what you've done you regret, or is coming clean?
You say it's the regret of your deceiving act, to you that maybe true.
And I? In my heart,
I do not believe I will ever know.
Or that I could ever put my heart and soul in to our relationship.
I can love you for all it's worth.
I can even forgive you and forever be there for you.
In the end though, I do believe I will always resent you.
Jun 7, 2012
Jun 7, 2012 at 11:30 AM UTC
She ran.
She was out there for five hours.
Walking. Probably running. I don't know.
She had a backpack on that entire time.
She ended up at a Wawa.
Funny that they call it that.
She had a friend pick her up.
Then she stayed with them for some time.
Her parents texted her, of course.
Saying things like "we want what's best for you."
While at the same time saying "why do you have to cause drama?"
It infuriates me to no end.
Her grandma came to pick her up.
She's pretty supportive, I guess.
But there hasn't been a text back since.
And I'm worrying all over again.
I had panicked at first.
Started shaking, almost cried.
I felt a subtle shiver in my neck, somehow.
Sweat-coated hands are irritating.
I guess I calmed down, but
I didn't know what to do or say to her.
Not like I can do much right now anyway.
We're miles apart, after all.
I'm scared she could go back.
I know neither of us wants that.
They'd berate her again. Call her a disappointment.
And other insults that I just won't say.
I just hope wherever she is, she's safe.
I hope her needs are met, and she's okay.
Sometimes, the worst outcome creeps into my mind.
But I push it back, because somehow, I'm still hoping.
Mar 10, 2019
Mar 10, 2019 at 7:59 PM UTC
America is an idea
that "all men are created equal,"
with working definitions of "human", "created", or "equal."
America is freedom for our grandchildren
in a manner we will never understand.
It is the founding fathers who died for liberty.
It is the darker brothers who fought for justice from kitchens and pulpits.
It is the poor, the huddled masses,
And their children who have forgotten this.
It is green cards that become blue passports.
It is unlearning the language of our grandparents.
It is knowing how to pronounce Arkansas and Illinois
It is enjoying barbecues on somber national holidays.
It is unbridled enthusiasm.
It is unbridled arrogance.
It is rugged individualism;
It is passionate paternalism.
It is hellfire that scorches deserts.
It is a gust that has fanned flames.
It is a cool rain that puts out fires.
From sea to shining sea--
It is Manifest Destiny
from Louis and Clark to Wounded Knee.
It is Topaz, and McCarthy,
and hundreds of things we would rather forget.
It is D-day, and Neil Armstrong,
and thousands of things we forget to celebrate.
America is a dream that rings from the red hills of Georgia
to the curvaceous slopes of California
to New York Island.
It is patriotism;
it is progress.
It is the blind worship of our past.
It is red. It is blue.
It is red, white, and blue.
It is what half of us say it isn't.
I say it evolves constantly;
others say it was created in His image.
It is everything I hold dear;
it is everything that infuriates me.
It is the warmth that makes my eyes tear
when I hear the Star Spangled Banner
at football games,
on July 4th,
or on September 11th.
It is hope.
It is the promise of a better tomorrow.
It is what ever I am.
I, too, am America.
*I have posted this to another website under the pen name Anamika Nair. I wasn't sure if this was okay. If it isn't, I can submit something else.
Sep 30, 2016
Sep 30, 2016 at 3:26 PM UTC
I am e and I don’t like p
p really disgusts me
and makes me go eeeeee!
p is a stalker and purposely tries to get close to me -
see what I mean?
I try to keep p at a distance
but I don’t always succeed
look
I want to get a fruit
and I reach for a pear
and see? - P comes to share!
He wants to make a pair with me!
Oh! I just hate p!
Try and get some peace
but that p instantaneously
casts a shadow over my peace,
as you can see...
I can’t even have fun -
I just want a peek - and p insists on being there;
and if I just take a peep - oh p
infuriates me
like barriers in front and at the back
I try an orange
hoping to get rid of p
but as soon as I start to peel -
oh! I hate it! p’s there, do you see?
I don’t mind s, or c or dear old d
but Oh this stalker p
I hate p
with all my life and energy
and even a hates p
for p thinks it’s good company in papa
when a just wants to be alone;
and worse, p is really crude and smells
and s and i think so too
cos p forces them altogether
and makes them ****
Oh I am e and I hate p
and the ABC Police tell me it’s not within their purview
could I speak with the Numbers Department?
and the Numbers Department says he’s too important
since he’s in pi
O what can me, we do with p?
I just hate p - he just makes me want to puke!
one of these days, I’m just going to *double *** on p!
Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 4:15 PM UTC
The only natural poem I have consciously been involved in-
The site, not just the reporting-
was when I happened upon a sheep gazing at me
in a field immediately off a motorway in Norwich.
This was not planned, yet it was
disconcertingly poetic.
Life whispers it's potentialities, it's immovable eros
the way billboards make us aware of our melancholia.
"Your hair is flaxen"
No, your hair is just damp. "Flaxen" reminds
us of a language that according our reading of poetry
existed long before our ancestors could read.
It does, however, sound more complimentary,
therefore more sincere,
therefore more comforting
than "damp."
I wear all my pretentious vocabulary and sentimental heart-stirrings
like a cross dangling from my neck
pretty as the plastic emotions I express
Because of my dearth of enthusiasm as opposed to experience
Because of the transparency of my speaking without first attuning
to the spectre of blood which no longer clots my lungs Dominika
but now sullies my hands.
But I wash and wash, and am clean, cleaner than most.
And my cleanliness infuriates you Dominika,
it breaks your back to see me so elevated among the wrecks.
When you speak there is no air that leaves your lungs to pollute the air
there are all only words whose sounds make the other sounds commonplace.
Whereas I am all white, brilliant, brutal air.
I've calculated the effect this has on your sense of self
Dominika, of your progress, of your place in the narrative
and though you hate me for implying so if I explained
You wouldn't understand
Dominika
I made it that way.
May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 2:59 PM UTC
The sludge seeps into my marrow.
Filling every pore, every entrance until I’m suffocating in it.
It roils and slurps with its oppressive heat
And gurgles and spits until it wraps me up completely.
It hardens.
The shell so thick nothing can penetrate it.
You chisel, and chisel away and I watch you
And I laugh at you.
I laugh so heartily at your futile efforts to get to my center
I watch you grow frustrated
I watch you get angry
I watch you try by force
I watch you give up and walk away
And I laugh.
Because I drank the hate you poured
And I let it consume me.
There is no hate more hilariously poisonous than yours.
The delicious malice of armor created by you.
Does it make you feel weak?
Does it make you feel inadequate?
Does it make you feel hopeless?
I swim deep in those feelings until I bottom out in the ecstasy
Of their prison.
Bitter.
My return to the present is bitter.
The aftertaste of your shot of hatred is putrid.
It festers and infuriates me.
I want to bathe in its luxury of intoxicating drama
And shoot you down where you stand until there is nothing left
Of the bottle but puddles.
Forget?
I’ll forget when you perish. When I watch the heat
From the sludge devour you inside and out.
When I see the steam rise from your burnt ashes.
When I pull the trigger and see the fire melt your hateful eyes into the
holy oblivion of uninterrupted agony...
When the world burns you as I stand unfazed in your corroded armor of hate...
Then I’ll forget.
Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 3:13 AM UTC
I live with a perpetual companion
An unremitting voice in my head
An amensalistic association
This parasite and I are wed
Not by choice are we inseparable
God knows I've tried to break free
It's constant conditionings of the past
That binds this enemy to me
A chameleon that drains my color
Armed with a tongue spitting and sharp
She dominates my conversations
From morning till noon till dark
Upon the urge to be true to myself
To break free from this mimicking mime
She ridicules, rants and berates me
Until I loose all sense of time
If I grant the power she incessantly seeks
And obey her exacerbating needs
A suicide of sorts slowly takes place
Leaving an empty reflection of me
If I choose to not give her authority
(Which only infuriates her more)
And I start to rewire the pathway she's on
No longer will she bang at my door!
But the question that's left remaining
Will I be okay left on my own?
a companion like she, omitted from me,
Will undoubtedly prove I'm alone.
Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 11:53 AM UTC
Set fire to the ghosts
that held me captive in
skeleton jails and pumpkin cages. The
time to crush the shell
is now, and it will break
with my redemption in hand and
my heart will scourge
and burn as I dig up through the earth.
Emerge now he who is hidden
no longer a teardrop flame. To
see the ghosts walk and lurk
infuriates me. They thought they could hold me forever.
It seems that I have grown so
much, I am no longer silent.
Now I emerge and
force light in the dusk.
Mar 24, 2012
Mar 24, 2012 at 12:54 AM UTC
the human races
color
separates us
infuriates us
words
divide us
suicide us
violence
drives us
deprives us
if
peace
provides us
guides us
actions
enlight us
unite us
color
eludes us
includes us
the human race
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 8:30 AM UTC
It infuriates me.
It rejuvenates me.
It frustrates me.
It creates me.
It kills me.
It fills me.
It weakens me.
It strengthens me.
It deceives me.
It receives me.
It IS me.
May 16, 2013
May 16, 2013 at 9:15 AM UTC
i was going to try to write a poem
but i fail when i try to do anything
i fail when i try to do nothing
i fail
failure is relative
who taught me this warped definition
taught me a fake identity
tried to make me impossibly inhumanly
errorless?
why is it that i cry?
why is it that anybody would
WISH to die?
WHY why why why are there so many
questions ringing in my head,
and all of yours too
(I recognize the agony
just like inside of me)
Why why why
why is it that I cry?
I force my anger into mirrors
and breaking them, almost
as easily as breaking people,
but it doesn't take away
anything.
The thing that infuriates me even more
is pretending
it doesn't
exist.
And I cry.
Dec 21, 2010
Dec 21, 2010 at 11:36 PM UTC
How can you love him more?
I took care of you from day one.
No sleep, tired, frustrated but true to you.
I have ****** up along the way but im with you all day. I do everything for you and your rude to me, even when i do nothing or speak gentle.
Today you went crazy and not silence could stop you. All it took was his voice and you calmed down.
I am nothing to you. You don't care and it hurts and infuriates me at the same time.
I don't know what to do, i feel like backing away but i can't i don't let myself. Am i a terrible person? Do you hate me? I hope not because i love you and it hurts when i cant help you.
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 10:53 PM UTC