"loathful" poems
I had almost forgotten,
The lines between the lines,
Details in dreary designs,
Perpetual persistent patterns,
Relentlessly resilient repetitions.
Why would you come now?
To remind, reminisce or read,
Reckless racks of reads.
All- knowing knocking knight,
A random reckoning recites.
What are these questions?
You ask, alter and annoint,
These dreadful death dreams,
And plough out pangs of pain,
Of a wilted and withered world.
Can't allow this anymore,
Lose this loathful lust of yours,
That belittles my boistrous being,
Paint a pretty picture please,
Let go and leave, one last time.
I live in a different universe,
Of my wonderful whimsical wishes,
Floating over my fantastic fairy tale,
Never nitpicking the neverending nows,
The happy hopeful and happening hows.
May 19, 2019
May 19, 2019 at 12:37 PM UTC
Sleeping scared in the darkest night
Waiting for him to return and fight
A feeling of nothingness as my emotion
Towards the thought of another devotion
Crying out silently for my escape
Thinking not of the dreaded ****
May the angels and saints bless my life
And keep me from this wicked strife...
Defiant against a willing soul
Thinking back and losing control
Never knowing of which is right
Learning evil with Satan’s delight
Leaving the lord an empty heart
Secretly being torn apart
Feeling alone with others alike
Anger to everything that’s apparently right
Hatred flowing throughout my veins
Needing support from my metallic chains
Life will never be an amusing game
For myself, a loathful shame.
Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 4:23 AM UTC
A hole in her heart that can never heal,
She tried everything, but still so empty.
She keeps trying but she’d rather not feel.
Fat! Ugly! Loathful! Why’d you eat that meal?!
The mirror screams at her – she feels *****
The hole in her heart, unable to heal.
The demons lurk in her heads; surreal.
Starve to be skinny, (skinny means happy)
She tries and tries but she’d rather not feel.
Her walls built so high, solely out of steel.
Everyone will give up eventually.
The big hole in her heart barely did heal.
Scars – fresh and old – under her sleeves conceal
her secrets. She just wants to be free.
She keeps trying but she’d rather not feel.
Nobody actually knew it was real,
But she is me.
That hole in my heart? It never did heal.
But I got what I wanted – I can’t feel.
(a.p)
Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 11:02 AM UTC
she was doleful
loathful
but then
lonely,
scared
and worried.
everything might
reach its end.
he was so near
yet
why does he feel
so distant,
very far away
from me?
tears came down
rolling
trying to reach
for his voice
but he never came.
not again.
and then there was
a
Nov 5, 2018
Nov 5, 2018 at 2:15 AM UTC
what are you,
a husk of what the world demands,
their expectations and beliefs,
but not all is them
Some are your expectation,
but where are they coming from,
what wastelands are these lunatic ideas from,
spawning an undue end.
Psyche of yours,
moulded through hammers of plenty,
in the fire of false pretenses,
is any of you even real
Do you see the small hints,
your true self, the loathful one,
how long will you sustain such ignorance,
false faces on dead ideas
granting their wish to bring down,
with the grace and might of a maggot,
soul of yours will forever question
where do they start and when you end
Jun 21, 2020
Jun 21, 2020 at 7:58 AM UTC