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robert May 2018
So many things to look at – pretty
Girls with short hair, long hair,
Brunettes and blondes
Short and tall – they have secrets
They’ve got them all

The nice ones, too stuck on plans
To ever be free, college and marriage
Is all the dreams the see
The tall ones, those with
Beautiful smiles and smoking bodies
Their lights blotted out by insecurities

But who of them will look through me
And who can see the person
That I’d truly wish to be

I stand here, waiting for something
In between it all; someone who
Sees me for that which I am
A girl that doesn’t run from the skeletons
In my Titanic-sizes closet

And doesn’t die from boredom
When I sit still, when times get calm
But I’ve been here before
And I loved my time here, yet
How could I even sit still
With the cries I hear at night

I'm clueless as to how to fall in love
I think it should have happened
At this point, or maybe even long before
My mouth and lips are on someone’s thighs
The cheap guitar I own, neglected in the corner

You and me, for now, is all there is
It won’t last long
Until I won’t see you
Just like you never
Truly saw me.
A poem about my ability to misjudge others instead of giving them a chance.
kris evans May 2014
time and tide waits for none
nor does the soldier of the battle won
swift as the light that pass
the mist crept  the landmass

thunder and lightning left out
when the major called out
ahoy! all brave men
the sons of the Ganges terrain

reach out to the far north
where the enemy slept forth
show no mercy for you'l receive none
feel no pain and march as one

here's the ensign to raise up aloft
think of the weary deeds that you've got
let the din of cannon shred
the rhythm to carry you in right tread

never panic when the men grew wear
wave the standard to shook the fear
never misjudge the foe as weak
but remember your oath to our peak

never fall when ponderous struck
never halt when stark strike
fight till your warmth is turned icy
then the hawkish eyes will see

the unbeaten soul stamped on Indian lads
the mortal's robes you 've clad
holds the blessings of thousand
which will retain your soul and

spirit even when the tricolor is laid
on the honored graves made
hold tightly like limpet
till success is met

march brave Indians with gusto
and show them you are a maestro
draw your sword across
to pierce the devil's heart across
i grew up hearing the war stories of my granddad......he used to amaze me with the brave and adventurous stories of his military life....and i simply would picture him in my imagination....fighting like a hero.for he was my hero....always...
Rhianecdote Jan 2015
Spotted you from that afro hair as I waited for you at the bottom of the stairs thinking we'd have a good chill today cause you avoided me yesterday but from the look on your face, that staring into space I knew what was coming, even thought about making a joke about it as we shuffled our way to the park, but this was no game, no pack of cards, hands in your pocket waiting to sit on this bench.

" I don't feel like I'm in a Relationship"
Took the words right out of my mouth so there was no need for me to speak, even in the silence my heart beat weak, till it was broken by this guy sat next to us acting commentator and referee, giving name to these strangers as they played a basketball match behind you and me. You took note and stared up, half laughed and smiled at me and I did too cause it was funny. A moment back to being care free, when we were at our best, making jokes and being silly. Return to silence pulled us from the reverie as you averted eyes again, thinking this wasn't a time for jokes but seriously I wish we were waiting to play in that match instead of sitting on this bench about to become unattached.

This too was a no contact sport , me on one side you on the other as we wrestled with what to say to each other. Eye contact replaced with sigh contact as you fought your thoughts that longed to form words out of fear you couldn't retract or take them back once spoken.

But I needed to know! So you see those hench guys playing basketball? I'd get them to come pin you down until you told me, thump you as you dump me, threats empty. But in the end you told me
" I still don't know If this is the right thing to, I don't wanna confuse you"
But it was too late for that. It could be so frustrating, indecision was your play thing, used to be endearing now you choose to be decisive end nearing.
"You're amazing" a statement that just added to the labyrinth as I realised this was inescapable I would have ran away if I was able, but I remained stable.
"Don't feel you have to spare my feelings" And I really meant it, but i also knew without hesitation you always would. Said you wished you'd met me later, funny thing time. When we met you said you'd wish you'd met me sooner but better late than never. On my birthday said my 22 years had led us to this cross roads together, but now we cross paths like we never met,  some days I wonder if we ever did.

Even though a big part of me was breaking inside, it's sad that even now I don't know if it was heart or pride as I stayed sitting by your side. Swore I could see the ghosts of us walking past the park, Sat there and zoned out recalling the first day we walked this way in the dark. You'd stayed late after college with my friends and me. Remember feeling happy that you got on with them so effortlessly, each of you teasing me. Think you stayed just to see me. Stole your hat and ran down this street, gave it to my friend to hide, had a mini water fight, got to the station and gave you a hug that I didn't think would end when we said goodbye; but not this time.

Delayed the walk away because I knew it would be the last time we'd freeze time and see each other; said this aloud ,asked if there was somebody else cause that's what all girls do right?  Stared me straight in the eye and said
"There's nobody. Are you asking cause everyone asks that?"
"No, I asked for me" said somewhat aggressively the most honest I'd been with you for weeks. Shook your head and looked down despairingly "I made you think there were other girls, I can't believe..."

I don't know if they were tears forming in your eyes or why they were there, I only ever thought I saw you cry once, heard the sobs in your bathroom and when you came out I didn't know how to comfort you just like now, said this out loud. Cause there were no tears to be found in my eyes, not yet anyway, cut off by pride. But as I got up and walked away, half hoping for that cliche "come back I've made a mistake!"
These eyes gave way to sobs I wish you'd seen so you would know that I wasn't cold or mean , that this had meant something to me beyond words...

There was a time yours meant a lot to me, but now they run over and over in my mind on repeat, haunting me. like a hit and run driver, tax disk empty. Is that what all those deep words filling up my glass were? Empty. Cruel how words last centuries.

We used to speak a lot, everyday. I wish I could say it was my receptions fault, look into the air and blame sky and satellites that I couldn't lay in bed and wish you goodnight but that's a lie. Truth is we'd drifted and I don't know if any form of communication could have fixed it.

Cause that girl you told me you think you should stop speaking to well you never did, saw her photo pop up on your messages, though I wasn't looking for it. The day I came to ask you if you were happy in this relationship. Do you know how hard that was for me? Potentially putting us in jeopardy by getting too deep. Held my hand as you ran through all possibility such was your constant diplomacy as reassurance was steadily being replaced with insecurity. But I guess jealous is what jealous sees...green. With all that constant unease this Gut couldnt be interrupted, cause I knew that this was coming for weeks. But I guess jealous is what jealous did...nothing. Brushed it under the carpet, until it took me apart bit by bit, left a bitter taste in my mouth that's why I spit.

Like that day i made a joke about faking it relentlessly tore into you till you saw right through it, said it didn't sound like a joke any more and if that's how I was gonna be you didn't wanna see me
"cause that's stress"
"do you think I'm stress?"
" not usually"
That really got to me. That made me angry that you had the cheek to say that to me, when all I wanted to do was see you that week. Cause we didn't speak like we used to, message you one day be lucky to get a reply in the next two, you know by the end I didn't even feel that I could ring you. Such was my complex about being clingy, exasperated by your distance and that gutsy unease but mainly because I'd replaced honesty with words spoken passive aggressively, turned into that girl I never wanted to be.

But it stemmed from care. I didn't think you could handle it without care. Remember how I used to trace lines across your back and brush your hair?  I didn't wanna upset you, so instead I upset me kept it inside until it did seep out, cause I didn't trust you and you could see I wasn't happy. Even now it cuts me deep to think you might have lied to me. But don't think that I don't see it stemmed from care. I don't think you thought I could handle it without care. Remember how you used to hold me in your arms and stroke my hair? Cause I do. That's what makes it hard to accept that that something was no longer there. Missing in action, loving look replaced with a blank stare. And now I'm left to fill in the spaces.

Did our relationship remind you of another? Make you miss somebody else? Did it not live up to your ideals? Got you caught up in a moment and then you couldn't back track cause you felt trapped by the kinda girl I am, the one that's down for you, the one that was down so now finds it hard to get back up.
"I love your company"
I think I made you happy briefly but now I wonder why you were with me? For comfort, a rebound, a *** thing? I don't know if the attraction was just distraction or the real thing. Was it cause you were lonely, escapism "a moment of imperturbability" when you caught a glimpse of me sleeping? Cause I didn't know what you wanted, and neither did you but it turned out to be that it wasn't me.

And that's why breaking up was the right thing to do. I wasn't ready either. You know I started getting paranoid about things that never used to bother me, like how I didn't have that black gyal *****. And slowly about other girls as I wondered if they were part of an ego trip, or the next best thing, thought about how we first got talking, how we were getting close and I wasn't aware you was with someone till you were having problems. Was you now having the same conversation about me with someone ?

I just think of all those conversations about our end and all the dodgy moments where it seemed you didn't want it to be known we were together, almost play pretend
"didn't know you were doing a thing?!"
"ahh its just a fling"
Those sly digs at me that I stopped finding  funny and started taking personally cause they sounded more like truths than jokes to me. Pushing me away indirectly but deliberately, your arm not resting on me when we last watched a movie, calling me by my first name instead of "***" All indications that we were done. All indications so I feel dumb. All those alarm bells, those preparations back to "friend" marking our end. But in the end all of that is just part of the bigger pic as you got to know me better than most and ended it, preferred me as a stranger so estranged is where I sit. Bench Warmer the perfect fit. Was I bench warmer till you found your perfect fit?

But maybe I don't give you enough credit, maybe in upset I misinterpret a lot of it. I don't know and though it kills me to say it I think we both liked the idea of a relationship but in the end our actuality stopped living up to it. But the promise we held in some of the moments we shared are hard to forget.

Late night gallavants, me backing out of pranks, singing in the street, you attempting to teach me how to cook and eat healthily, making first date brownies, chin ups in the car park, quoting me back word for word on something I'd said, it showed you listened, you could be so sweet and considerate, watching all those movies, the deep conversations, you looking after me when I was sick, snuggling up to you, biting your lip, taking your dog for a walk, that cute face he'd pull so we'd fuss over him, (I swear I love that dog) all the playfighting, me showing off and falling in a water fountain, all the banter and laughing, stealing a Boris bike and riding through the city streets at night I swear a lot of those were the best days of my life.

What was to follow, not so much.
You know when we ended I found myself in a counsellors room again, cause I never really did well with ends. It's why ellipsis is my favourite punctuation mark, I remember when you used to say
"I see through those dots"
Well I hope I do and this doesn't hold up indefinitely, now I actually hope for an ending, ironically.

Last thing I said to you was sorry an unwritten apology in a hug. Ask me why I did it I shrug. Cause I'm not sure what I was apologising for in that moment. I was a bit tipsy, at our friends get together when I shouldn't be , had only been a few weeks since our bench press talk but surely Someone who cared woulda made sure that I got back alright, but you didn't that night. I suppose I had just told you that I didn't want any contact with you and I needed space. Maybe you didn't feel it was your place. Maybe the message I sent to our mutual friend got through , you saw it and you didnt feel you needed too. See how I still explain things away for you? Like when you never came to my friends BBQ, left me alone in a group of couples asking after you. And a lot of the times after I have these thoughts about you I feel guilty, cause they don't match up with the person I see you to be, hence my apology.

I'm sorry if my sense of humour proved too crude for you at times , how I'd misjudge it and get too loud in a crowd, calling you a ***** in front of your boys for not asking me out. Telling people about us, not gaining your trust, losing my innocence to you too soon smothering our spark in lust. Sorry for how I'd stay in silence when I wanted to shout, stopped giving you an open account of how i was feeling so you couldn't figure me out. For not having the strength to remain your friend, nor the courage to bring the end to us sooner, for catching you unaware at this shindig now. Sorry I didn't live up to your first love or help heal your heartbreak and that I couldn't be that happy girl you first met at lunch break all the time, the insecurity that constantly chimed. That I proved too much for you.
Not accepting that you wasn't feelin it sooner and that you felt trapped.
I'm sorry that I couldn't be there for you like I wanted to and now I'm jealous that somebody else is the one to look after you.
That I didn't show the qualities that meant that you would let me in, joking I was a lesbian. Sorry I expected too much, you were young just turned 19, sorry if that sounds patronising. I'm sorry if you're ever feeling alone or down, if you felt I didn't understand. But most of all I'm sorry that I compromised my honesty, honestly for that I'm truly sorry.

And as I'm being honest I might as well say the 4th of May was our anniversary when I said I wouldn't remember I lied. Just like on that day when I said we'll just see how it goes, I lied. Of course I hoped it'd go steady, but in the end you were just a Boy on a bench I walked away from cause he wasn't ready...
you were just a Boy on a bench I walked away from cause he couldn't love me.

But in truth you weren't just a Boy on a bench at all.
**You were my best friend.
Dang! It's a long one, in the words of my year 7 English teacher Mr Winter's " I didn't ask for your life story!" Well I guess this is sorta. If this seems all over the place it's because it is. Its been an ever evolving piece in my search for peace over the past few months since my first break up. It's proven to be quite cathartic to be honest.
There's many story's of us depending on the day and this serves to include them all. Truth is in my search for understanding and acceptance many emotions have been felt. And I've come to realise that the pair aren't mutually exclusive.
Lindsay Thomas Sep 2015
Why is literally everything over sexualized except for realistic body types? All women have cellulite. All women have rolls when they sit down or lean one hip to the side. All girls jiggle somewhere when they walk--and I'm not talking about their ******* ****.
I'm talking about feeling your legs and belly jiggle, wishing you didn't care, feeling less and less **** every day. Feeling like a stranger in your own skin like you put on the wrong meat suit one morning and misplaced your old one.
I'm talking about skinny taking over everything, and my own skinny being considered plus-sized. I'm talking about looking in the mirror, utterly disgusted by your own body because the world tells you that you need to change.
I'm talking about feeling guilty after eating anything; not eating, binging, and dressing in layers to hide how you really feel about how you really look. I'm talking about how hard it is to love yourself, when the world tells you the only women deserving of love are sizes 2 and under...and if they are bigger, they can only have curvy hips and a tiny waist, both of which you have to be born with to achieve. Having a wide rib cage and a wider everything else is something I was born into....and I can't change it enough:
My legs rub each other raw when I walk, and I'm too tall for heels. I have bruised hips from hitting doorways and edges because I misjudge how wide I really am.
I'm in denial.
I grab the fat on my back wishing my boyfriend would stop. I stand in front of the mirror, fighting back tears, fighting back the urge to wish for the flu. After all, the skinny girls are always bragging about how much weight they lost while home sick with one thing or another. Unfortunately, losing weight is harder for those with weight to lose.
As I put my arms to my sides and watch how far the fat expands to make my arms look like three times their size than when I was yanking at my hair in panic.
I watch how my belly looks when I slouch, when I stand up straight, and when I lean too far back in an effort to obtain a flat stomach.
Round, curvy, rounder.
It's intoxicating, sickening, but I just can't stop. I stare and I stare some more and I hate every inch. I wake up, and do this routine every morning, and every second of my day thereafter.
I'm talking about waking up every morning and making a point to avoid mirrors throughout the day, tripping over things to avoid looking down at yourself, and the constant feeling of inadequacy knowing that you'll never be someone that can walk outside with confidence knowing how easy life is as opportunities and love fall right into your lap...because you're conventionally attractive, of course.
You're too big to cuddle on a couch, or share a chair, or casually sit on your lover's lap. You'll never be lifted off the ground with ease in a romantic gesture. You'll never be able to joke about how much you eat like the skinny girls can because, unfortunately, your love of comfort in food form shows all too well.
You'll probably never have love as solid as an attractive woman would have, either. No one will ever be jealous over you because, well, who's going to steal you away but the desserts you sneak when you're alone and aching?
Alone and aching are emotions all too familiar to the less than conventional.
#bodyimage #fatshaming #selfimage
Ayeshah Sep 2010
Currently I'm locked up, in this stupid hospital, baby on the way and no father in sight.

Sadly its my fault & my fate, love didn't love me, love beat and misjudge me, now thou I had time to think.

Reflect and it's come to the conclusions that we maybe wasn't meant to be.

God how his touch sent me raven mad...

How his kisses drove me to loose myself, his arms strong & tight around me hugging squeezing and caressing me. his  lustful ****** hurting yet I'd beg for more,

his legs entwined with mines and our lips locked while tongues fought to be the main concubine!

Friendship then lovers, lovers becoming boyfriend & girlfriend, then we planned to walk down the aisle. Man & wife!

Trusting in disbelief. until the lies seemed so real...

Until the mornings mingled with night...

Until my body cried out for  peace...

******* release even when I didn't want him to-  he'd plead & take what was now not given.

Hurting from black & blue eyes that never cry,
not anymore.....

God how his touch sent me raven mad... (running  fast  when I could)

How his kisses drove me to loose myself-RESPECT,

his arms strong & tight around me hugging squeezing

MY THROAT  -

caressing me in to submission .

His  lustful ****** hurting- I'd beg him to STOP...

His legs entwined with mines and he wresltes me to the bed...

Our lips locked,

I'd try to bite-  while we fought...

Currently I'm locked up,    in this stupid hospital,

baby on the way and no father in sight.

Have to be here until I give birth....

My love (for him)  was my undoing.....

My curse is siting here staring at these walls....

I'd rather he mistreated me all over again....  Cuz I still sadly love him  

(yet again I now know better)

Love hurt me, mistreated me & used me....

Misjudge me......

Love abused me and took all my will away ....

Left in it's wake-


A Baby's on  HIS  way!


(I don't believe in "love" anymore)


Feb 2011
Always me Ayeshah
Copyright ©
Ayeshah K.C.L.N 1977-Present YEAR(s)
All right reserved
Star Gazer Jan 2017
Teacup, you probably don't know this but I'm fighting
trying to find a way to make you happy, to brighten your day,
but the lighting is out of place, and I've been facing demons alone.
Teacup, home is everything that's by your side, so don't try to hide,
please don't say goodbye because I'm running out of answers,
the question dances in my mind, how much more can I take
was I one of your mistakes, did I misjudge the situation I'm in.

Teacup, you probably don't know this but I'm fighting
trying to find a way to make you smile, even if it's just for a while
I would survive the wild just with the thought of your smile.
Everything positive I have felt, has started with meeting you,
so renew the starting hand we've been dealt and find a new way
to overcome the lightning, the clouds and the thunder.
Bring us closer under the spell of love.

Teacup, you probably don't know this but I'm fighting
but I'm losing you and it's scaring me...
I'm fighting but I'm losing you...
w h              
o ?        
l        v  es

B R O K E         n
w                                          
0      r        d    ­              
S ?                      
........
Alghiejoyce
Sjr1000 Sep 2016
gives exquisite attention
speaks with grace
flowing through the room
touching everyone
Groundhog day
six weeks later
telling you your life story
though you might have just met

I tell my son be careful son,
(also reminding this heart of mine,
you'd better not walk that line)

Look in the eyes
there's a white light shinning
focused right on you
feels so good
easy to misjudge what you're seeing
easy to take for granted

The day it's going to come

The white light blinking out
The exquisite attention
somewhere else

(This heart of mine, I put on notice)
I also tell my son,
be careful.
Despondent Mar 2014
Getting left behind
Not being loved
No one understanding
No one caring are my fears
I had a dream I was lost
No one tried to find me
No one cared
No one listened, understood
Feeling left out
Feeling like no one understands
Feeling like No one can hear me when I’m screaming to be heard
Destructive behavior I have
Wishing I could change
Wishing I could make it better
Wishing for another chance
Wishing for someone who will come and save me from myself.
my fears
not being heard
being left behind
not being understood
no one caring.
how can I disappear? Make people understand.
Disappear from
this world
Show people what it's like to worry, misunderstand, not care.
my fears,
people laugh
people tease
people misjudge
people misunderstand me.
Behind my back, they laugh, tease, hurt, so I can't see them. It hurts.
Now, I hide this pain in my heart making sure no one sees my hurt.
Pretending to be someone I'm not.
Trying so hard to fit in, to cover the scars, trying
so hard, to be liked by you.
My feelings disappearing
No regrets
Hoping no one resents me.
After my dream ended, I wondered...
What am I leaving..
When I leave here?
The pain I've caused. The hurt,the disappointments, the worries
Hoping, now people understand, people miss, people hear me, and others
Forgetting all: all the pain, and hurt
I learned to hide inside, buried deep in my heart. No way out
My fears...are these..
BLD Mar 6
As evolution jumped from eon to eon,
the foundational hunger to remain
surpassed all bounds this great celestial
has ever witnessed in its cosmic disturbance.
How must Mars and Jupiter, these stars in the sky
view the deep blue that flooded the desolate,
a clump of collected debris basking in the ultraviolet,
unable to resist the presence of life, ever-so unwanted
and needless to exist? For our neighbors in the sky,
glancing our way in their soulless façade,
they gossip to their peers about the news over here,
the autumnal shift from emerald to bronze,
willows who wept in the heat of summer days,
dandelions dotting the ridges of a rolling hillside,
at times dipping their toes in the whispering waters
of a backyard creek caressing the moss
atop smooth and shimmering stones.

From nothing you surged as entropy evermore,
and from everything you share your entities,
the very body you call your own, the breath
you maintain in this cyclical palindrome;
as mere extensions of the singularity’s core,
you find yourself in this position of awe,
gazing at the consequences never meant to be seen.






How fortunate we are to find ourselves here
in a sea of tumultuous chaos, conscious and
ever-so present in the discovery of knowledge.
To look to the past through a tubular lens
and remain unknowing of time’s present state,
the physical probabilities of potentials unforeseen
bending the rays of time to juxtapose new and old;
reality remains a pervasive illusion
evading the grasps of human cognition. Our
consciousness supersedes the premise of us all,
but our curiosity quivers in the breath of the
meaningless; how could something so rare
and inconceivable surmount to nothing more
than the imminent emergence of an empty abyss?
We must never misjudge the reign of the cosmos,
lose all hope that nothing awaits --
this I will not believe.  

From nothing I surged as entropy evermore,
and from everything I share my entities,
the very body I call my own, the breath
I maintain in this cyclical palindrome;
as mere extensions of the singularity’s core,
I find myself in this position of awe,
gazing at the consequences never meant to be seen.
Barton D Smock Sep 2012
(for my daughter, Mary Ann, soon fourteen)

I was eleven years old when I first had something taken from me.  My parents were still married and my two younger brothers had not yet chosen to choose differently which one they’d live with.  My dog had not yet been made lame by a falling fat man who’d taken the gift of my father’s strange rage square on the nose.  And my older sister had yet to misjudge her jump from a moving train.  No, none of these things, whether they happened or not how I’ve remembered, had happened.

I was eleven years old and in love with an old red bike.  It had a license plate that obnoxiously read Go Now Mega which I’d scratched at with a fork and so became Gnome.  I would fail my whole life to accomplish a thing greater. Before school, I’d walk the bike carefully to the end of our short drive and then seat myself on it and be still.  I would often be so perfect in my stillness that I’d forego riding it and just listen for the bus and at the last possible moment walk the bike, still carefully, back into the garage and cringe at the sound the kickstand made when lowered.  If ever school didn’t go my way I’d think of the bike, alone, in the garage and be calmed.  When I did ride the bike, I did so slowly and deliberately that I could feel my soul get a bit ahead of me.  On the best mornings, I would have for company a bed sheet of fog which made me want to fake being asleep on the couch while my mother and father milled back and forth about who would carry me to bed.

The bike had come with the rental house we moved into just shy of my tenth birthday.  The house was a three bedroom one floor with one bathroom and what felt like two kitchens.  I was too close to my hands and feet to now recall any vision that might tell me how these rooms were mapped though I’ve always held aloft the word blueprint.  I should tell you that what I previously called a garage was actually our backyard and that our backyard was really the backyard of those living in the house behind ours.  I didn’t want you to know right away who took the bike.  Who’ve no imagination.
Argentum Mar 2016
people always talk too much
and I try to sleep anyway
but silence is hard to come by
and you must silence
everything
with a knife.

(purebred aggressiveness
is preferable to casual ******)

even when solace arrives
in the morning,
as punctual as the mail,
your bloodstained hands
have still come away empty
and you still want to be held.
(too bad you don't let nobody
touch you, too bad they get the idea
after the riposte to the heart)
Of course they have survived it;
we lived in a civilized day and age,
after all,but they will still
steal furtive glances at you,
like they're waiting for something to
drain away the remaining time
until you next explode.
it's a fair price to pay
for the skill to breathe words
like mere ambient gases,
for free thought
and a good pen.
at least , I fell for it.
I was never good at bartering,
and what more could I ask
than to wield words?



and so the cycle continues!
life,death,ashes to egg,egg to
firebird,
firebird to ashes.
people will continue to
misjudge where they've stabbed you
and you will continue to
obediently burn all letters
and end up
listening
to Thom Yorke sing about
cheap *** and sad films.
I've given up on coherence
amora Aug 2018
Another day has passed by
The moon illuminates up high
Shining through the window's blinds
The cold wind begun to crawl behind

The crickets I hear made me unknot
Such a stressful day for a youth
A day of harrassment became so blunt
A part of me was lost like a missing tooth

I was intimidated by the fact
The truth that I was bullied by the society
Daggers of words are still intact
Cornering me in a room full of despondency

I let people disgust me
I let them misjudge my sincerity
I let the day becomes my misery
I let the day becomes the night of melancholy

Tick-tock-tick-tock
Here it comes, it's three o'clock
It's time for happiness until five
It's the moment of being alive

Finally, I have found peace
Where my heart is feeling glee
In a jocund room that I please
A room that has Him and me

It was then three o'clock;
where my soul peacefully lays
Wandering like a soft cloud
And the chirping of birds play
I thank God for being loved.
Candy Glidden Jul 2010
Picking you up
Tears fall down my face
As I look into your eyes
The ones I once loved
There is nothing.

Holding you in mid air
I ask, "WHY?"
Angry and hurt, I curse you
It was my heart, my heart
Not yours....never yours.

The beautiful smiles
The innocent heart
Dying just to be loved
Lips like that of rose petals
No other soul so complete.

As I hold you in my hands
The reflection I see, is not you
Lest mine eyes misjudge the reflection
It is evil that lurks about you
Slithering through your veins.

Afraid of my discovery
I fall to my knees
Asking God for the forgiveness
Of the crime I am about to commit
Killing the only one I ever truly loved.

Holding you higher, I glare into your eyes
Once what was beautiful, is now evil
I loved you, I needed you, you killed me
Now your death awaits you
Here in my own loving hands.

As I lower you into my arms
I look deep into your eyes
The Porcelain doll I once loved
Who's beauty captivated the world
Most of all, captured my heart.

Your head I bash onto the floor
Awaiting to hear you scream
Each time I bash, I yell every word
that reminds me of who you truly are
Deceitful, liar, dishonest, and fake.

To your death I take you
Leaving you no time to beg
As for me, I am once again complete
Knowing that you cannot hurt me anymore
I am strong, and I will survive.

As for you, my sweet, little porcelain doll
You shall forever be nothing more
Than pieces of my life that I ripped apart
thrown into a plastic bag
Buried in your favorite rose garden.

Everyday as I walk passed this garden
That we so lovingly planted together
I smile, not in remembrance of you
But in remembrance of the life
you gave to me, and the death I gave to you....

My little Porcelain Doll.
Copyright2005  Candy R. Glidden
A powerful paw strikes the earth
Strong since your day of birth

A spat of dust arises
A cloud that disguises

A future with you in it that is bright
You who is bathed in divine light

For those who misjudge
And appear to begrudge

Your luminous essence
Most evident in your presence

Simply put, they are not needed
And for you, these words are to be heeded

Just as orchestral sounds swell with the howling song of oboe
The world, too, swells from your howling song, for U R Lobo
Written for Lobo...a very special spirit who makes the world a much better place as her paws make their way across Mother Earth and her howls fill Father Sky. :-)

Live 4 Love
Sarthak Ghatkar Oct 2020
I am not normal
I am something different
I am something unique
I am a tide of change

'Cause in a place I live

It's okay to be who you want
It's okay to choose who you are
It's okay to love who you like
And it's okay to ne true to you

'Cause I have grown up in a garden of love

Far away from the fists of hatred
Far away from the eyes of misjudge
Far away from the jaws of insult
Far away from minds too old

'Cause I have nurtured in the hands of god

I preach to love all the same
I plead to break all the barriers
And for once realize
We are all the same blood and flesh
Accept and Love all People
Chloe Zafonte Dec 2015
Don't misjudge me
Don't be scared
I just have a broken heart
Yet to be repaired
Angela Jul 2010
Fickle fortress is her lair
A silent maiden is waiting there
don't misjudge her ,for heavens knows
She need no rescue, she comes from below

You waltz in sword in hand
ready to defend for your a galent young man
you realize not that , this is a trap
better back up,while you have the chance

The room is shaking
the spinning wheel turns
As sinners do
the maiden grins
She takes your hand
and drags you down
She takes all you have
Even your sound

Back to rest
she lays down
until another
fool comes around
The New Kestrel Sep 2013
I wish I could sing.
And maybe I can,
But I want the voice that will give people chills
And lull them to sleep.
That soft beautiful voice that always seems prominent
In movies.

I want to create a melody
That tells a story, even if there are no audible words.

And I want robe able to show my emotions clearly,
So people will not misjudge me.
Christopher Lowe Dec 2013
Some might think I’m crazy
To bad I’m a lunatic
It’s funny they all misperceive me
They see the weird looks
And all the time I’m writing to myself
“They misjudge me”
And only if they knew
I’m much worse off then they think
But only by their perception
Because I’m happy being insane
See everyday is different
And when I see them I think
“These people must be insane”
They treat everyday as mundane
Shea Jan 2021
If my trust in you was a form of art, surely my mistake was my masterpiece

Two organisms without Eyes
blindly react to each touch
Each payment does not add to much

how did you see me through stained glass?
and I'm guilty of hiding
but was I hiding?
Or were you denying my pure intention?

Would one consider that lesson,
Or did I misjudge you for someone with pure intention?
Jeremy Betts Jun 13
You only judge;
Or misjudge, the minimal effort you saw while my mind was gagged and bound
The many breakdowns you were a part of where no fix could be found
And the deluged of tears you hardly stuck around long enough to see hit the ground

You never asked;
About the profound effort of simply starting a day on the day priors rebound
About the countless cries that tried to break through the red tape but never found sound
Or about the tears I was told weren't allowed to form with other people around

Leaving me to question;
Can a life be built on the middle ground?
I guess the more important question is,
Do you desire to turn this thing around?
Is there any interest,
What-so-ever,
In seeing if a middle can even be found?
I'd appreciate your response but don't expect to see one come around

Fool heartedly yours,

The Crying Clown

©2024
Emily Oct 2013
I hate emotional attachment
It scares me
They grab my heart and ****** it

I feel out of control
And I get sad
Without them, I don't even feel whole

This burden is too much
I can't play these games
It's confusing and I misjudge

My love's the greatest thing I give
I hand it out so freely
But then they steal it and I can't live

I must step back in my life
And regain control of my heart
On my own, I can see the light

Right now, I'm in the dark
Overshadowed by the fake emotion
Take it back, I'd rather be apart

Nothing is worse
Than giving yourself
Wholeheartedly
And getting nothing in return
I think I'll stop now
And just feel the burn
I'll get over it eventually
And then I'll start to see
Who's actually there for me
© Peyton 2013
Lenora Aug 2022
Autumn

the third season of the year, when crops and fruits are gathered and leaves fall.

Change.
The world is full of change .
Every few months a new scene takes over and clouds my brain
My heart fully visible to the masses
But only one can could catch my eye as I I watch the feelings spread like rashes
All over my body in the trustest way
Until I resort to isolation when I’m not okay
But I do miss the beginning
The hot days and cold nights, the first night we kissed my emotional guard is thining
I hate change but this types always feels good a first
You feel every emotion till you swing your way back around towards hurt
And remember there was a point where you were alone
And days you dreaded the walk back home
I wanna go slow but tf is a talking stage
As if the emotions were locked away in a cage
Dreaming for escape
Because they were never meant to relate
Or maybe . Maybe it’s me .
Cause the self sabotage takes it all I see

I’ll count all the moments you can stay away
and how you couldn’t care about me
And especially how you showed it in May
Still in April June I was down for you
How I looked like a clown but I was down to bruise
I could take it all to have you in the end
Couldn’t bear to have you close but far still take you as a friend

So you don’t like change huh
Neither do I .
So I have to ask from spring to summer to autumn
Did your heart move at the same pace as mine
Honestly. I’m finna be done w all the sappy stuff soon. Time to move on. Plus I’m a Gemini so the other side bout to givem hell for a lil while 🙂 imma post the rest of what I wrote tho. Anyways back to watching 50 shades of grey.
Elsie Greek Apr 2023
From us it virtually generates,
a vivid dictionary entry form
it mimicks.
Gets to assess/anticipate storm,
bypassing sabotage
with emulation at its core
It clicks with us.

If one were to create
this paravessel
subject to pitfalls so critical,
its snappy truths would mislead
A whole review
that's faster than a line to read.

Does it mean that
i owe you nothing,
i still may dwell
on my valuable ****** experience?

These patterns seem
an oxymoron:
Efficient yet alarming.
If one were to contemplate
so peculiar a world,
Full of next-gen era
outlandish jobs,
Be based on this extrapolation
let it not.

I carry substance,
Although disproportionately,
Which you might overuse,
misjudge, or subjugate.
They meddle with it,
the tech-savvy reptiles.
We may further copypaste
and carry no substance
other than what we had
disproportionately created.
Le Lotus Jul 2014
Don't treat me like that
Don't look at me like that
Don't smile at me like that
Don't take my side when i fight

Because I often misjudge treat
I often misread eyes
I often misunderstand smiles and acts

I hate it when they turned out just a normal treat, look, smile and act
When I don't normally receive that.
KD Nov 2015
I have been told by so many that I explain myself so well
That my sense of understanding is so great that they are proud to tell me
It is good that I can understand so well
But what does this do of good for me
If I can't ever understand what others want of me
I always misjudge the situations
And think that something is going good when really I am just stepping on landmines
Pretending the flying limbs are flowers floating in the air
How can I not see that If I am so good with understanding?
I am beginning to doubt if I am ever going to be happy
Because all the happiness I ever had was created illusions in my head
like a puppet on a string I forced myself to dance joyfully throughout a life; that I did not even enjoy
A big smile on my face after everytime I cry
A big laugh though my soul mourns with the sounds of trees breaking in the wind
A hollow feeling of always walking on a path which carries old imprinted footprints from people whom walked here before me
But instead of creating my own I step in theirs; To ignore the fact that my footprints are taking this journey alone when others have been accompanied on theirs
If I mess up in love, just don't throw me away. If I misjudge the trust in our relationship don't forget the things we been though to gain the trust in the first place.  My heart seem to mess everything else up without you being there to comfort it. I cry a river inside being a man and trying not to show you that you not being around me is putting me though a ever lasting would wind, not only that but hearing Antony Hamilton sing "I'm a mess." Is Not making anything no better. So I'll pack my bags and keep moving knowing you happy will have to do for now.
FinkZ Oct 2019
It's just a little word
But the pain really hurt
Never misjudge it
No matter how small it is

Never underestimate stress
The reason of my unwell rest
My life will be the cost
My soul will be a ghost

When stress is your daily mood
You will know the truth
That the monster is not under your bed
Instead it screams inside your head
**** me :)
Lila Dec 2019
Some people think I’m weak because I cry all the time but really I’ve been holding everything in to long

Some people think I’m easily scared because I’m tiny and sweet but really I’ve looked in the face of fear and yelled at it to go away

Some people think I’m Vulnerable and that they can use me because I’m indecisive but the thing they don’t know is that I’m fine being by myself

People misjudge me often but I don’t look my part
Poetic T Apr 2014
Life is a tight rope some times,
we may cross and do it with
ease, but with every walk
there is a chance we will
miss step and fall, only to
be caught by the safety net
of life called are friends.

But with every walk we
can misjudge a step and
the wire may start to swing
and if we do not balance are
life we could if fact fall.

Life is a tight rope that is
walked upon everyday, we
may survive every walk, but
some in fact even you may
tire and fall.

You may not have the net
friends not there to catch
you when you fall, life is a
a balancing act and some
times we fall crumpled
motionless on the floor.
Moths in great abundance - cavorting and obsessed -
Flit about the fluoro lights with single-mindedness;
They spiral in confusion as they misjudge the view,  
Believing that their beacon lies as distant as the moon
They ride this fatal arc until their final destination;
With exhausted wings and will they then collapse in desiccation.

— The End —