"insanities" poems
I saw... I saw how you broke the strongest person I know. How you made her fall to her knees. You'll never know how her cries haunt me to this day. "Never trust...keep them away...walls" these thoughts ran and still run through my head. Over and over like a broken record that's beginning to shred my sanity. Look at what you've done.
I can't understand how you can walk in here like you've done nothing wrong. Do you feel no guilt? Does the fact that you crushed her mean anything to you?
But no, you're right, you always are. Your excuses will always defy logic while you manipulate all your wants to seem right, proving us wrong. Your hypocrisy shreds all other insanities.
Will you ever know how when you broke her you shattered me? These scars I have, the scars I hide, they came from you always reminding me what happens when I trust someone.
Own this, take responsibility. You boast about your accomplishments already, so why not this? Because it might ruin your image, show the rest that your not all they perceive you to be. Or will it hurt your ego to know that you've done wrong.
Because of you I play it safe. Not trusting those around me with my thoughts, emotions, heart... But thats how you wanted it, isn't it. For me to not trust.
You know, I find it funny that you wonder why I try pulling away harder every time you tighten my leash. Yeah its ironic how I don't want to come to you when all I get are the verbal smacks of what a terrible person i am, of all I do wrong, of how disappointed you are that I'm not better.
But I'm done, I'm not a dog and I refuse to let you dictate this part of my life. I'm human. I'm allowed flaws, opinions, and imperfections. These scars, they make me beautiful. They're battle I've fought, that I've won. So i refuse not to trust, because not everyone judges me the way you do. I refuse... I refuse to be refused my rights as a human being and I refuse to deny everything that makes me, me.
So here, take it back. Take it all back. All the lies, false promises, persecution,denial,hate...take it back, all the blows you gave me. All the cracks to my body while I cried for you to stop, but prayed you wouldn't so that you would not see the little boy I was hiding in the corner.
You know, I'm standing here right now broken, busted but I am not defeated. I will never let you hold me down. Because...because I'm worth it. I'm worth all the dreams I have, all the hopes I carry and all the love given to me. And for all those people like me, so are you.
Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 12:21 PM UTC
I find myself lost in thought
In moments curious
About the wonders of those
I lack any of
Sometimes I wonder
At these times I know not what to think of
Searching for a path
Embedded in the insanity I call my mind
Undisturbed, until placed under the guise of my curiosity
Sometimes I travel these paths
It’s a unique feeling
Finding pieces of myself
I hadn’t known were shattered
And beginning to build on what I hadn’t known
Quite a complex puzzle
I place regret in the lack of relation
I hold with those who call me close
Knowing I could never show them these pieces
In the face of what they saw as whole
Enveloped in their naïveté
Sometimes I approach the ends of these paths
Finding parts previously unknown
And in certain cases
Certainly unwanted
But I realize their place in what I seek
This path unfurls itself to me
My mind slowly revealing itself to me
Not as a continuous staircase
Rather, an intricate river
Fed by the kindness of many streams, many still unknown to me
I close my eyes to these tunes
Some playing to gentle piano keys
Others to the harsh shattering of glass, perhaps something else
And yet they all play in the same key
Performing movements to the growth of my path
Sometimes I lay terrified to these pieces I find
Yet I still close my eyes
Looking through the streams, paths, and interlaced insanities
To find those pieces I haven’t yet placed together
Reaching out to their neglected whimpers
Sometimes I wonder whether this path is wise
When most others ignore the streams,
Choosing the clear way in front
But then I think to who I am, and finally see
Sometimes never has enough
And I realize this
The need for my Sometimes
To become Always
And perhaps it does
Sometimes
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 8:33 PM UTC
hot chocolate fantasies
peppermint insanities
keep me warm when im cold
make me young when im old
sweet enticements
sugary excitements
make it real when i dream
stitch me up at the seam
joys and sorrows
yesterdays and tomorrows
this is all for you
ill prove its true
remember me
sweet memory
Nov 15, 2011
Nov 15, 2011 at 12:56 AM UTC
{•}
unwanted love
we, the human counting crows, tracking everything, steps, bank balances, heartbeats & especially,
those dastardly calories that need burning
pre yoga, her morning banana,
she takes but a half, and looks to unload the balance on a sucker/victim in the vicinity because a whole
is greater than a half,
and God knows a whole could make you fatter!
fully prepared for her desperate supplication, reply so quick,
"you're forcing me to eat unwanted calories,"
she crestfallen,
near to weeping from guilty feelings,
a crime so heinous!
but more than ready, added words, prepared years ago:
*but to save your life gladly give you any body part,
step in front of a vehicle, for a certain somebody,
you may know, to preserve, life and liberty,
put up with your inanities, border-lining on insanities,*
answer your questions before you think of them,
*and will restrict my singing to sole showers in the basement
but never will I eat for two, that so undesirable,
in the name of love*
to which she came to my bedside, kissed my nose, whispering,
"thank you for my life saving,"
while stuffing my mouth with said weapon,
"thank you again,
please don't make this into a poem"*
somedays you just ain't gonna win,
you see she loves me too well
and knows
my answers before I do...
Jul 15, 2017
Jul 15, 2017 at 10:31 AM UTC
On the screens...
In the model scenes...
In the magazines,
In the places we believe are unseen
We have all the *********** we could want and "need"
It's in our hands, at our finger tips, your flesh is filled with greed
Hastily eating all you can **** out of what your distracted eyes see
Satisfied? Never, Then continue to watch that **** view, then wash that history clean
You know you the ***** feeling you desire!
That shakiness that makes your heart grow mad and burn like insanities fire.
If responsibility did not exist, that would be your main priority, fall lewidly into the dark
To feed that starving flesh the images it need's to get that spark
Enjoying it?.... Tired of it yet? Too Soft? Too Hard?
Too Slow? Too Fast? Watch whatever actions you want, you're the one playing the cards
But listen to a different side of ***********
A "beauty" in those pornographies has laid a target on my type of beauty
I didn't ask for it... I didn't desire it... I didn't want it... I felt filthy...
Several men who thought they had the complete authority, physically abused...
Mentally harming with words, because of conviction, because of being accused
Refusing to give up their poison because it gives them the attention that makes them moan
Sometimes.. watching things aren't enough... time to give varginity a loan
....Almost have been ****** assaulted more then once... and forever my soul have been torn
Some girls and boys have experienced much worse... ***** killed... suffered.. WHY ALLOW ALL THIS ****
WHAT IS MORE IMPORTANT!? YOUR ****** EMOTIONS?
OR A HURTING NATION THAT IS BEING DESTROYED BY THIS ****** DEVOTION!!!!
....The more you feed it... with your mastrabational retuals
Or whatever... the more it'll want to consume... it won't stay netrual
....It has burned up families... marriages... friendships... and relationships
And even has devoured the heart of those who enjoy it... Who think it's a fun strip
...I am warning you... we are tempted left and right.. it's every where we see
We are not strong enough to resist the temptations... we are of the flesh; weak
Please don't waste your treasure filled bodies or lips...
We Have **** At Our Finger Tips...
*Only God can save the death of humanity... And help us end these ****** struggles...*
And Only He...
Mar 20, 2018
Mar 20, 2018 at 6:32 PM UTC
Hey, remember when we went to Vegas?
You were the only friend I had.
Remember when we went to Vegas?
I couldn't have done it without you.
Remember when we went to Vegas?
All be a'droppin' at the bridge.
Remember when we went to Vegas?
Inane insanities in the sands.
Remember when we went to Vegas?
I'd bet all my chips on you.
Remember when we went to Vegas?
O' desert night, bring me home.
Remember when we went to Vegas?
Hey, you were the only friend I had.
That was a long night in Vegas:
Take me through the desert again.
I'm telling you, there's something about a dune that's bigger than the both of us.
This tablecloth is singed with the cinders of cigarettes.
Them lights gotta be yellows, just see–
Looks like some yellows to me.
Looks like some skulls stuck up in the stucco.
Looks like a nice trip to me.
Looks like in Vegas I found myself and yourself, likewise, found me.
Looks like the best hours I've ever spent were spent sitting on the roadside
aside the road that sits beneath every star
waiting for the cars to pass.
Remember when we went to Vegas?
You are the best friend I have.
Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 3:51 PM UTC
Who would have known I would miss you
All talks of our problems
And even the nonsense
Who would have thought I would miss you
Your faces, your voices, your graces
Who would have known I would miss you
I did not, for all those times I was afraid
All I wanted is to leave, and thought this is insane
- this is nonsense, it drives me more crazy as it is
Who would like to talk about themselves
Especially their problems and insanities
Who would like to hear others' problems
When it'll only bring up their insecurities
Who would like to talk about themselves
The same problems going on about you
Surely that would be tiring
Who would like to talk about themselves
When you know nobody really cared
So who would have thought I would miss you
Even if these notions are true
Who would have thought I would miss you
Why can't I wait for the next day
The next week, the next date
Will it ever going to be the same day
Who would have thought I would miss you
Eager to hear your voice
Eager to learn more about you
Eager to talk and hear more
But mostly I'm eager to feel your companionship
your friendship's grace
all your smiling faces and your warm embrace
Who would have known I would miss you
I bet you wonder too
But know that I do now
and know that I appreciate you
Nov 7, 2012
Nov 7, 2012 at 12:19 PM UTC
My demons come when I am weak
wounded lion spirit
hyenas scratching at my bloodied sides
fingers pushing at cracked glass soul
corpse of decayed love whisper vile insanities
once kind life voices mewling crowing
over fresh ****** wounds to new for rotten
push your grey fingers in through my split skin
fish hook tenderness as you disport in my misery
defiled by the profanity of soiled joy
black shapes flap and rattle at the thin glass
break through with the shards and pierce my soul
my heart is frozen by your lapping rising tide of eversore caresses
too late to cry for help if death comes to me in a demon's red eye
it will find a fallen spirit of light burnt by close flame falsehood
and regrets barren embraces
held in the grip of the twisted gone
it is the crack-scabbed tomorrow that mocks my today
wounds cry tears of knife edge expectancy
arms shrink at cutting-shrine memories
God cannot stand against you but vomitting can play his role
4004 6015 numbers list your mocking horde
to late for redeemers blades
reject and defile the war cry of the un-dead
choosers of the slain cross skies of dead hope stars
No dandelion seed would stoop to carry my soul
too twisted for heaven's soil
rotted leaf shrine heat of decay warmth
no hell for demons to dwell carried within heart-carcass vessel
sail through eternities baying grief this reward
cherish fear and pain marks the hours of still alive
window of thin despair ready to crash but striving still
gossamer molecule threads still cleave to me
fight against 1916 cloying of death-sweet expectancy
shell hole camaraderie with last summers corpse gas kisses
twenty-eight pills later summer needs to come soon
at four degrees I can be water ice or gas can I be alive
Feb 11, 2011
Feb 11, 2011 at 1:57 PM UTC
The big teetotum twirls,
And epochs wax and wane
As chance subsides or swirls;
But of the loss and gain
The sum is always plain.
Read on the mighty pall,
The **** of funeral
That covers praise and blame,
The -isms and the -anities,
Magnificence and shame:--
"O Vanity of Vanities!"
The Fates are subtle girls!
They give us chaff for grain.
And Time, the Thunderer, hurls,
Like bolted death, disdain
At all that heart and brain
Conceive, or great or small,
Upon this earthly ball.
Would you be knight and dame?
Or woo the sweet humanities?
Or illustrate a name?
O Vanity of Vanities!
We sound the sea for pearls,
Or drown them in a drain;
We flute it with the merles,
Or tug and sweat and strain;
We grovel, or we reign;
We saunter, or we brawl;
We search the stars for Fame,
Or sink her subterranities;
The legend's still the same:--
"O Vanity of Vanities!"
Here at the wine one birls,
There some one clanks a chain.
The flag that this man furls
That man to float is fain.
Pleasure gives place to pain:
These in the kennel crawl,
While others take the wall.
She has a glorious aim,
He lives for the inanities.
What come of every claim?
O Vanity of Vanities!
Alike are clods and earls.
For sot, and seer, and swain,
For emperors and for churls,
For antidote and bane,
There is but one refrain:
But one for king and thrall,
For David and for Saul,
For fleet of foot and lame,
For pieties and profanities,
The picture and the frame:--
"O Vanity of Vanities!"
Life is a smoke that curls--
Curls in a flickering skein,
That winds and whisks and whirls,
A figment thin and vain,
Into the vast Inane.
One end for hut and hall!
One end for cell and stall!
Burned in one common flame
Are wisdoms and insanities.
For this alone we came:--
"O Vanity of Vanities!"
Envoy
Prince, pride must have a fall.
What is the worth of all
Your state's supreme urbanities?
Bad at the best's the game.
Well might the Sage exclaim:--
"O Vanity of Vanities!"
1.6k
The big teetotum twirls,
And epochs wax and wane
As chance subsides or swirls;
But of the loss and gain
The sum is always plain.
Read on the mighty pall,
The **** of funeral
That covers praise and blame,
The--isms and the--anities,
Magnificence and shame:--
'O Vanity of Vanities!'
The Fates are subtile girls!
They give us chaff for grain.
And Time, the Thunderer, hurls,
Like bolted death, disdain
At all that heart and brain
Conceive, or great or small,
Upon this earthly ball.
Would you be knight and dame?
Or woo the sweet humanities?
Or illustrate a name?
O Vanity of Vanities!
We sound the sea for pearls,
Or drown them in a drain;
We flute it with the merles,
Or tug and sweat and strain;
We grovel, or we reign;
We saunter, or we brawl;
We answer, or we call;
We search the stars for Fame,
Or sink her subterranities;
The legend's still the same:--
'O Vanity of Vanities!'
Here at the wine one birls,
There some one clanks a chain.
The flag that this man furls
That man to float is fain.
Pleasure gives place to pain:
These in the kennel crawl,
While others take the wall.
She has a glorious aim,
He lives for the inanities.
What comes of every claim?
O Vanity of Vanities!
Alike are clods and earls.
For sot, and seer, and swain,
For emperors and for churls,
For antidote and bane,
There is but one refrain:
But one for king and thrall,
For David and for Saul,
For fleet of foot and lame,
For pieties and profanities,
The picture and the frame:--
'O Vanity of Vanities!'
Life is a smoke that curls--
Curls in a flickering skein,
That winds and whisks and whirls
A figment thin and vain,
Into the vast Inane.
One end for hut and hall!
One end for cell and stall!
Burned in one common flame
Are wisdoms and insanities.
For this alone we came:--
'O Vanity of Vanities!'
Envoy
Prince, pride must have a fall.
What is the worth of all
Your state's supreme urbanities?
Bad at the best's the game.
Well might the Sage exclaim:--
'O Vanity of Vanities!'
1.6k
To learn to
Live to find
Happiness where
There once was
Misery and to
See when once was blind
To hate to love through
The thick and thin of
It all and to breath the
Same air as thine enemy
To trample of angelic
Dirt, touching the soft
Face of a child who was
Born to die in a world
Where sadness is a by-product
Of legislative necessity
To break minds and hearts in
Spite of all the civil wars and
Civil liberties movements, songs
Played and lost in crumpled
Sheet music of time
Pressing a hand onto
Prison glass while there
Are only nightmares behind
The frozen steel bars of the imagination
Our sons and our daughters
Linger on the brink of
Insanities leash and
I am one of them
The glass shatters as
Mismatched celebrity lovers
Entertain us with their
Mundane lives and their
Soft core ***** re-enactments
Of the human condition
I pass by the lepers
Of television, swearing that
The good times were the best
Times in the past, yet I see only
The burning history books
Upon their shelves, weeping
As they comb their hair for the last time
Smelling the sulfur upon
My fingernails
Rotting to the core of it
Trickling cool blood in the
The devil's dandruff
A former president smiling
Making up for all the wrong
By doing now, all the right
We are in constant remorse
This American land
We were born on a graveyard
Of the gentle and peaceful
Our dreams will
Stir and writhe with
The ghosts of the past
Our children will forget
About the beauty of the ocean
And the serene simplicity
Of mother wind
Tossed in the grotto of anonymity
We will lose our names
We will lose our faces
We will lose our throne of thievery
Justifying all that we have done
On the basis of Darwin
The clock will turn
The loser becomes the winner
And the winner
Melts like
Wet ashes
At a
Deserted
Campfire
Jun 4, 2012
Jun 4, 2012 at 3:27 AM UTC
In the spring, we fall in love; you and me. Together, we stay up all night. We dream of the future, and dissect the past. We wonder how we got here. We decide that we don't care; you and me. Together, that's how it should be. We spend hours lying in your bed, learning the curves and lines of each other's body. We go on dates that we don't call dates, because to put a label on what we are would only stifle things. We're not really sure what this is anyways, but we like it; you and me. Together, we think we are unstoppable. You are not normal, but that's okay, because neither am I. Our instabilities and insecurities balance each other. We are like yin and yang; you and me. Together, we are whole.
In the summer, you and I grow weary. Apart, we drift away. We slash at each other with words and fists. We fight and make up, and fight and don't make up. You and I are breaking. Apart, we start to shatter. The heat drives you mad, and you take it out on me. I get restless in the warmth, and begin to fly away. You and I are still together, but the cracks are beginning to show. Further and further apart we go. We stretch until one of us simply has to snap. You break first, diving head deep into your insanities, and breaking me in the process. You and I have gotten completely out of hand. Apart, perhaps we can heal?
In the fall, I attempt to heal myself. I do not hear from you, I do not wish to. I spend time putting myself back together again. I am a puzzle, and even I, am unsure of what the final picture will be. I try to pick myself up from the mess that you have made of me. I still have heard nothing from you, and I am still grateful for that fact. You have wounded me deeply, perhaps deeper than anyone knew. You have made your scars on both my heart and soul. I spend time doing things for myself, so that I can remember who I am. There is still silence from you; I do not miss you. I have begun to learn to live again. I even begin to flirt with the idea of love again. I believe that I have finally found myself again. I hear from you at last, a simple message; I am glad, because I have missed you as a friend.
In the winter, we come together again. We set boundaries, and know that we can still be friends. We start to talk again, little things, at first. But soon, we are telling all our secrets again. We are closer than normal friends, but then again, when have we ever been normal? We have no demands of each other this time around. The only thing we ask is a pair of ears to speak to. And together, we oblige. We spend time in public places, never alone, where we can't get into trouble. It is nice for us to share with each other again. We are more than we could have ever dreamed of being. But we still are not lovers, nor are we in love; this is a good thing. As winter begins to thaw, we grow closer and closer. And finally on the cusp of spring, we kiss, and the cycle begins anew.
Sep 7, 2012
Sep 7, 2012 at 2:01 AM UTC
Taken from me,
my will
or these shatterings,
Pieces of every sensible answer,
what helped me
through these insanities,
Pride
I thought I had
in this glass box of mine
Which makes it funny how
when I let it slip through my fingers
love of myself was all I could find
Aug 19, 2016
Aug 19, 2016 at 12:10 PM UTC
Running naked through the ruins of Detroit,
deep embrace against a graffitied wall.
The clink of spent bottles chime with passion's song,
and echoed down a forgotten hall.
Bombed out, Nagasakieque, sur-reality,
a strange and desolate aphrodisiac.
Ghosts watch our post-apocalyptic tryst,
through every wrecking ball crack.
With patchouli scented hair of reddish brown,
she's taken me to the forgotten side of town.
Paradise, hidden among the rubble.
But only for the discerning eye.
Her pen painted poetic justice here,
and tried to reveal the reasons why.
Street coney's and cold bottles of Stroh's
could not be scuttled in the wake.
Its someone's hometown, no matter what,
though it looks like hell for heaven's sake.
With patchouli scented hair of reddish brown
she's taken me to the forgotten side of town.
Like some lost and lonely stray, she takes it in,
dusts it off, and holds it to her heart.
Sees promise in every burnt out factory,
and hope in every unattended park.
Empty crack houses sleep down the darkened alleyways,
like effigies awaiting to be burned.
The clock tower is stuck on borrowed time,
with hands waiting to be turned.
With patchouli scented hair of reddish brown
she's taken me to the forgotten side of town.
And on our cardboard mattress
and the last few sips of wine,
the stars never looked so good to me,
her body never so fine.
Perfection amid controlled chaos,
eloquent profanities.
She dances naked in the moonlight,
and quelled our insanities.
With patchouli scented hair of reddish brown
she's taken me to the forgotten side of town.
Inspired by "Ghost Gardens" a poem by Rebecca Askew
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 10:01 AM UTC
Can't seem to get rid of the flickers that made through the glass of your veins
Those little lights that dancing on our skin
The dusts that stumbling down when our eyes can't even see
Telling us where are we going to be
The roads that lead us here
Screaming out loud where would we be now after this
Those insanities that brought me here
Asking me the truth how could I get here
Blaming the lights, they don't want to be
Blaming the dusts, they can't even seemed
Blaming my self, how could I get here?
Blaming ourselves, how could we get here?
Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 11:37 AM UTC
Crazy Guy Sends His Poems to a Dead Guy
~for Joel Frye,and yes it’s true~
ah another trivial pursuit of trivial nuggets
bout yours untruly, that is a truly truly,
poets that
I’ve known here, but who have moved on,
it’s my obligation to keep them posted on the
au courant,
so slip them a poem or two,
when you ain’t looking to
make one wonder even more,
what makes a man a nutty Natty.?
well if you don’t know the answer to that after
two t h o u s a n d plus poems, you are not getting me
but Joel Frye,
mutual enjoyed our scribblings,
yeah, he got me,
so via social media,
keep him posted of my latest écrits,
fancy french for scribbles,
of course he gets them
before me,
in so far I assume
my thots are known to rise
or more likely drop,
even before
they traverse that narrow passage between my ears…
but really, just in case,
in the peace and quiet
of the hubbub above, with all them comings and goings,
he, God forbid, (ha!), he may overlook my inane insanities,
and the weirdness
of my compositions,
real, ethereal and in between~al,
that’s a great whew~relief knowing,
at least
some one!
is reading my stuff…
natty
Dec 17, 2023
Dec 17, 2023 at 5:58 PM UTC
In awe you gazed upon the blue ocean of sky,
And black spots like tears feel down.
Looking as they fell closer. impending needles
Upon the waiting flesh of unsuspecting
Mortals,
Vessels,
Victims
Unknowing of their own arrived fate,
As slender tears discarded from high
Above found flesh, and the quill did
Burrow as was consumed
A shadow remained of what had stained
On soft tissue,
Then the noise beckoned forth from those
Lacerated by feathers fallen like wailing
Tears from clear blue.
Squalls were heard as from impact, like black
Petals flowering from the seed,
Feathers,
Obsidian,
Shimmered
In the birth of darkness's creation
Talons where nails now clawing
Human remains away,
In insanities confusion of thoughts now
Between two worlds.
Clawed at those of human design,
Onyx greeted crimson and screams greeted suffering,
As all now tainted
On the flowering of slated feather
Birthed once again and the flock
Rejected,
Sight,
Humanities
Tainted plight, as all feather dressed in proper
Order did fly into the blue sky.
"Mummy,
"Yes dear, what is it,
As she pointed in to the vast blueness above their heads,
"I don't know baby,
"They look like black tears mummy,
"Like tears from heaven,
Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 5:22 PM UTC
Swirling memories in time
Often appear though unwanted without warning
Pale masked face emotionless
Upon red lips loves bitter taste
Twisted licorice memories
Crimson ribbons of the mind
Thoughts flutter by in madness rhyme
Dancing and taunting
Desire's passionate touch
Haunting
The kiss of melancholy
Cruel sweetness
A feast of regret
Sumptuous delicacies on a mirrored plate
Lost in mist of imagination
With only a backward glance
Realty slips past quietly
Opening insanities gate
Floating on green seas of time
Until once more called
Black ribbons of the mind
This poem is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3), Tammy M. Darby May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 7:18 AM UTC
Solitude begins with a silence,
It is an uncomfortable void
Solitude begins with nothing
And time mockingly waltzes past
you hear quiet nervous laughter
she promanades behind you
words begin anonymously as whispers
she passes you once more
A voice is present, is flows from the depths
It simmers and delicately steams untill
It begins to boil, and boil over and flood
Becoming submerged in insanities, it cooks your memories
Judgement slips and truth becomes your own
There is no such thing as a stranger anymore,
We are here, an army with meaningless words.
We are here, but why?
Every experience is suspect,
My eyes are closed, i see blue in the sky
Mental fatigue outruns everything
It crosses the finish line first,
the race for the rights of destruction
Slowly, disected, things are taken from me
Find this mind a hole or else I just am, i have to be
Write in Spite.
Mar 31, 2010
Mar 31, 2010 at 3:21 AM UTC
No matter how shattered our homes were
or how many times throughout the night we heard our own cries,
we all started off with a grin stretching over our faces
with wide eyes staring at the sapphire sky and the emerald trees,
curiosity always singing lullabies in our ears.
But eventually,
the sky turns to rust and the tree's leaves fall off
and we are left to wonder where we went wrong
and how we got to the edge of the world,
looking down a sempiternal pit of blank faces,
including your own.
And as we grew our hands became rougher
while others got smoother,
so with the same wide eyes
we gaze up at the people who we praised,
for climbing down the border of the earth
wondering how they fell into the world
and climbed off of it into their mind,
and it was only till now that we realized,
separate people conquer different insanities.
Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 11:40 AM UTC
i know people who are obsessed with ***
obsessed with adrenaline and
where their next high is coming from
i used to be obsessed, OCD to the point of
screams, tears, erratic behaviors, all the insanities
my sister stopped it and now i'm not obsessed
not obsessed with anything.
i've done a lot of hard drugs
never once got addicted
smoked cigarettes, clove menthol cigarettes
yes i'm a gross girl baby
i smoked socially baby
and quit smoking independently baby
i used to **** a lot of men
hate **** around because of an ex
slept with 2 or 3 fraternity brothers
i forget because it wasn't important
said i love you because it was important
said goodbye because that was more important
now i'm just really happy not doing any of that
really happy working hard and being the best me
drinking the best tea, traveling to friends, and
spending money on me and watching
my bank account fill up because of me
i've become so tired because of you and you and
you. don't want to spend my pennies, my time on
those that don't see me for me and buying pointless garbage items that aren't used or beautiful.
i know thyself thou tho is ever changing
now that's a sentence Shakespeare can get down with and woof that's pretentious if you judge people un-openly and meow that's judgment because **** just be open and love yourself more than me.
Sep 3, 2017
Sep 3, 2017 at 9:20 PM UTC
I can feel myself
sliding away.
I try to speak.
I try to let the words
spill, but I
clam up.
My vocal chords
freeze, and
nothing comes out.
I gape and gasp like a
frog,
but all of me
chokes up.
My throat tingles,
my tongue goes to the back of my
mouth.
My mind is turning
against me.
I think strange thoughts.
What would happen if I
took this pen and
shoved it down my
throat?
If I drank all my
pills?
If I curled up in a corner and mumbled
insanities
to myself-
nonstop?
I want to
kick and scream,
flail around on the ground and
give myself rugburns
Slam into things and bruise.
Take a razor to my
legs, arms
I've done it before.
I have scars.
Scars of insanity.
But am I really
insane?
Would they really help me at a
loony bin?
I think not.
I'm not even insane,
though.
I'm just a
stupid,
naive,
hopeless
hormonal teenager.
And besides,
I may be too far gone into my
withdrawal.
It's too late.
I can't go back to the way I was
before,
when I was
happier.
It's all too late.
Nov 4, 2011
Nov 4, 2011 at 12:42 AM UTC
Day unto Day, I track my prey
Night unto Night, I stalk my victim
My hunt is not one for satisfaction
It is not pleasure or fun
It is out of necessity.
I hunt because I must,
I live in the wilds because I must,
I bring home my finds because I must.
My hunt is what keeps my family fed,
My hunt is what keeps the tanner busy,
My hunt is what keeps the leather-worker stocked,
My hunt is what keeps the saddles fresh,
My hunt is what keeps the people warm,
My hunt is what keeps the trade flowing.
My tools are crafted by my friends;
Not necessarily friends by choice but by necessity.
Fellow townsfolk keep me content because they must,
Not because I am friendly to them.
Fellow townsfolk keep my family safe because they must,
Not because they are joyed by their presence.
If not for my skills,
I would be as distanced as the wild animals,
As shunned as the insanities of men,
As estranged as the drunks,
As feared and hated as the beasts that stalk in the night.
I am not like the others.
I may be an outsider here,
But without me, they would all be outsiders to the world beyond.
How can one man judge another when the other keeps the man alive?
Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 11:16 PM UTC
***
Sending chills this tortured spine,
as aches precede the worded fiction
Sorted truth does rest sublime
beneath the light of benediction
Broken dreams of compass flair,
directions cast a blinded waning
Trusted roots abridge the square
of all that’s lost and is remaining
Washed along this fertile beach
of sanded hope and history
Tasting o’ thy patterned speech
as common phrases come to me
Desolate my cornered mind
of images I pray be true
Dangling the lost to find
retaliation in my view
Pray, oh be, as life does rattle
chains of only mist to turn
Laughter like some long fought battle,
in amongst we tend to learn
When the calling comes so random,
names are lost on open seas
One by one in columned tandem,
drenched of hell’s insanities
Take me to thy deepest haven,
so that I may find the end
Black as night o’ windswept raven,
come to me now once again
Razored claw and broken arrows,
filled with such, the violence
Playing through the endless narrows,
falling to my own expense
This, a life that's not worth living,
not this day, not anymore
Breaths so tethered in their giving,
pull the drapes and close the door
Take a seat your exits' waiting,
frozen hinges squeak in time
Find the map for navigating,
somehow through this wicked rhyme
Follow me, I know the heading,
down this staircase, up the hall
End those futile tears you're shedding,
she's not waiting for your call
Through this doorway stenciled broken,
toss your heart there on the floor
It is but a useless token,
you'll not need it anymore
You’re now privy to the meaning,
whether you do understand
Motioned light, this night is leaning,
let it take you by the hand
Now of time and missing portal,
through the lens of sights unknown
Nothing whispers you are mortal,
for this day you have been shown***
Sep 9, 2016
Sep 9, 2016 at 5:46 PM UTC