"mistakes" poems
I LOVE MYSELF
With all my flaws
In my Beautifulness,
In my mistakes,
In my weakness,
In my darkness.
I love myself, because I am worth it.
I am a high power person who can move mountains with my love, thoughts and dreams
I am good, kind, funny, full of life and love, contagious with my explosive energy
Some things may be equally essential but nothing is more important than loving oneself
And at this moment the love I have for myself goes above and beyond.
It could reach the end of the universe if I just unwrap it
I love me in my inane, craziest, sanest, beautiful twisted, darkest and funniest way
I love me in a way that no one does
I love me in my fullest woes
I am everything that I can and will be
I am frightfully proud of my flaws and proudly wearing them as no one is perfect
This is the start of a new journey to me
The journey of love and self acceptance
The journey to fully embrace and value my own self
I allow myself to fall in my stupidest and biggest way, just to get back up and catch my breath again
Failure will not stop me but make me stronger
I am fully seeing me and smiling at my imperfected and distorted reflection
Hugging myself so tightly, refusing to let go
The more I am spending time with me,
The more and more my love grows
Is it bad for my health ? I do not think so.
It’s true, I am better, happier, more free, powerful, at peace
The sun is shining on me
I don’t need no help to be beautiful, ‘cause I’ve got me
I’ve got that uncontainable light from within me
I am smoldering a treasure, sharing laughter, joy and sadness with myself
I have learnt the phases of myself
So distant from that little insecure girl I used to know
As I allow her opinions to matter
I have accepted her difference
Her different kind of beauty, I have learned to love
This feeling of wholeness, self acceptance, comfort and love, is liberating
I wrap myself around my contorted and beautiful else to form a ME
As I am, Raw and Real
Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 6:34 AM UTC
I’d rather write than speak
My pen is always responsive
My ink doesn’t judge my mistakes
My paper doesn’t argue
My lines never cross me
My sentences never disappoint
And my words will never leave me
Apr 2, 2018
Apr 2, 2018 at 10:36 AM UTC
It's hard when you use to feel way at the top
Like you would never stop
Every one telling you how good you've done
Making you feel like you were number one
But in the blink of an eye you go from one to done
zero, zip, nada, none
You thought you'd never fail the ones you loved
But we all make mistakes
Like breakups and makeups
Sometimes it may be better to just give up
But how many mess up will it take you to realize your done
Never being number one.
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 10:52 PM UTC
I’ve now grown and I turned out alright
But one day I came to realize
That this was not a smooth flight
And the scary things that I saw
Is the reason why I held on to my seat so tight
Now here are the few things
That made me hate this horrible, terrible ride
The fact once you realize
that your parents are sometimes never right.
To see that they are flawed beings, with broken wings and ****** mistakes.
To realize the truths and the smiles they fake,
Growing up to see only the image portrayed- was only for your sake.
They hide the tears and shower us with laughters
They told us joyful stories and happily ever afters,
But just as soon as i grow
Only now that I understand they were telling their own dreams,
That had slipped right out their fingers
So ask me what’s the saddest part growing up?
To see the hollow sadness from the two people,
who once i thought was happiest.
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 11:42 AM UTC
Disappointment is thrown strongly at my direction.
Blame gathers in large quantities like a pest infestation.
"It's your fault" and words like "You always make mistakes" evoke anger.
Anger which I want to take out on myself and take out on others.
I can excel in my work of choice, I know I'm more than average.
The bad gets pointed out more and little praise is given for the good.
Stunned by unmoving words. I'm like a prisoner sentenced to jail, released and expected to do worse.
Destruction emerges from my enraged emotions, i wish your words could offer a solution.
I want to be an alchemist and turn things into gold.
It's ironic how I am a creator of words but cant create better words in my critics.
Conversations lead to arguments because i want to be heard.
I'm sick of revolving doors, sick of being slammed by your atrocious comments.
"You have no common sense" you say to me, maybe I just prefer to be in a daydream, my mind drifting away because life is too dull.
Realize that what you say has an effect and that effect can drive somebody or stop them in motion.
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 5:38 PM UTC
I am the pencil
writing on the blank page
that you can easily ignore
or erase
I am a pencil
trying to write on skin
no damage done unless
I press deep
I am just pencil
because I am expected
to make mistakes
you don't keep
I am not a pencil
for then I could not die
or end my life in
escape
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 11:26 PM UTC
You tell me you regret her, that you wished I was your first,
I look at you with distain because you know the mistakes I've made,
I wonder,
Will you say to the next one,
"I wish you were my first."
It seems to me quite strange because you once loved her like you did I,
But Ill tell you this,
I will not regret you, I will not tell them Id wished you were they, because although we loved and lost, all that matters is the first.
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 11:11 PM UTC
You cause
a break inside my organs
Pointing out my flaws
our differences.
You are at peace.
I sit jittering, worrying
what everyone will think
of when I didn’t care
you made me laugh at
everything
Changes. You’re not right for me
Nor I for you, but I can’t help
Thinking
What if? Then I remember
you’re not what nor
Everything I want.
You are an intellectual snob you
have a depth about you
I would love to delve in,
a psychological study
that even the best critics would praise,
but I don’t want anyone else to have been there
or ever go there.
I cannot hold on to you
tear me away while
You’re haphazardly gluing us together
We’re a kindergarten art project
messy, trying to see
Beauty within the confusion,
unfinished
You asked me
Where am I most at peace
4 years old.
I could be anything
No fears
I hadn’t been ripped apart.
I was the girl that said everything,
until I felt the need to screen my thoughts,
like the filter you use to make your coffee
each morning. I wish that’s where I was,
having you tell me
that you like your women like your coffee
Dark and bitter.
I can look past your chauvinistic ways,
not giving a **** about anyone.
You’re not really closed minded
You just act like it,
which annoys the hell out of me
Sometimes. I wish life was simple.
But then
I would never know your complexities nor
Feel the things you help me feel,
like hate for train whistles
or the burn of gin hitting my throat.
Music
you introduce me to
offstage trumpets, bad movies. Your politics,
your brown eyes
and how you can hear frequencies
that most everyone else can’t. I worry
that you hear
the fear in my voice and heartbreak
With every word I speak.
When were you going to tell me?
Or was that your plan all along?
To throw me out
like yesterday’s coffee grounds
or cut up scraps
Used and unwanted.
I wish I could tell you
to tell her you don’t want her
but me instead,
you don’t, I don’t want you to.
I want holding hands, laughter
comfort, personality, humor, intellect.
You want that plus things
I can’t give
But you always take.
You are your coffee
disgusting, caffeinated,
addicting
the only patch that helps is
comforting words you never spoke.
We had many conversations
of your desires, lusts, mistakes,
but I was burned,
by lies, distrust.
You left, like always,
a harsh, acidic aftertaste
on my tongue.
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 10:20 AM UTC
Deceive me
Lie to me
**** with my head
On the edge of the cliff
Then you pull me to bed
Your love is a drug
*** with you gets me high
I’m a full blown ******
Makes no sense; don’t know why
You're an ever present torment
The fission laser splitting my mind
A jig-saw puzzle that was completed
Slowly each piece from each piece you unbind
Seductively you tear me down
Like the clothing you disrobe
A deer staring into headlights
I am frozen on the road
The weight of the world bearing down on me
As those focused beams get closer
Gladly I welcome them
Even though I’m not supposed to
Every rational thought I have
tells me how wrong you are for me
But they are drowned and muffled out
No more thoughts; keep your pennies
No sensible way to explain
Why I ******* love you so much
You’re a psychotic crazy *****
that I don’t want anyone else to touch
A blowtorch ignites a flame
A fire fierce and burning bright
Even though I know it will burn me
With all my gathered strength and might
All it takes from you is that look
You cast that Vampire’s gaze and grin
Instantaneously my defenses lowered
and you know you’ve ****** me in
Immerse myself into the flame
Intense pain; you melt my skin
Until pain I feel no more
I’m enveloped in your sin
And like a ****** choosing dope
Everyday, your sin I’ll take
I will gladly sell my soul
The most egregious of mistakes
A preying succubus appears
like a dreamy demoness
A world of dreams are turned to nightmares
Fills her needs for human flesh
Feb 19, 2018
Feb 19, 2018 at 10:39 PM UTC
If we learn from our mistakes, then making no mistakes is our greatest mistake.
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 7:04 PM UTC
"lessons can be learned but without mistakes it can never be a better experience."
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 5:23 AM UTC
When I was a child,
I was taught poetry wasn't mild,
It was deep as the sea,
And it seemed truly unachievable for me.
I was taught poetry had to rhyme,
Every single line, every single time.
So poetry seemed out of my reach,
Like chasing a seagull down a beach,
Jumping ever so slightly away,
Or soaring into the sunny day.
So I never thrived for what I thought would,
No, Could
Never be.
I guess now I'm fixing the mistakes of past me.
Dec 27, 2018
Dec 27, 2018 at 11:41 PM UTC
A man who:
Takes pictures of himself
Everyday
Won’t have the time for you
A man who:
Leaves love notes on
Napkins
Underneath your coffee cup
Will love you when
You have nothing
A man who:
Declares he’s a great father
For all to see
Really
Truly
Isn’t
A man who:
Tells his children
Over the phone
Next to their bed
Kisses them good night
Where no one can see or hear
Truly is
A decent man
A man who:
Doesn’t make promises
But shows over
Time
His worth
His character
Is someone to know
A man who:
Makes mistakes
But tries his damndest
To make amends
May not see
Eye to eye
With all
But
Respects the process
Of understanding
Each other
A man who:
Writes poetry anonymously
Posts it for the world to
See
Is an enigma
Mar 8, 2018
Mar 8, 2018 at 11:00 AM UTC
We all live with our mistakes; it may take a long time to overcome but the mistake we refuse to pay is the one that becomes who we are.
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 3:44 PM UTC
Dear ****
**** you and your devilish traps
thanks for making my good days go to crap
thanks for separating me from my mother,
for making me look like a **** up to my brother
thanks for the addiction I have to face
you really did take me to another place
thanks for making me into the person I am
at least you never made me slam
thanks for making me stay up for a week or two
you showed me that I got nothing to lose
thanks for putting shadows in front of my eyes
but if it wasn’t for that I wouldn’t have realized my lies
I now put a gat in the side of my lap
cause I can’t even sleep or even take a nap
I’m always moving around , where ever it is you take me
bringing me to my dealers house making me beg on my knees
even if it’s just leftover’s, crumpled up in aluminum foil
Now I pick my arms because I think it begins to boil
I’m known as the black sheep in my family
you made my life a ****** up tragedy
The scars you caused aren’t only visible but mental
Thank god I stopped before I melted my dentals
There’s still a voice in my head telling me not to leave you
but I want to start my actual life, I want to be someone new
I thank you for the **** caused, for the mistakes you made me do
But I’m leaving you now, one last thing, **** you.
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 5:18 PM UTC
I remember they once told me that
music is the best time capsule
It's where people keep their secrets and feelings;
of their insecurities, their mistakes, their sadness, their first cut,
and even the wounds and bruises that invisible to the eye
It's where people let their wildest dreams alive;
of the one they can never reach, the one that will never come back, the one that got away without proper farewell
It's where people store their most sacred memories;
of their first kisses, their first love, their first dance, their first bucket of roses, their first heartbreak
So they were right after all,
Music is dangerous, yet addicting; it can either tear you apart or put the pieces back altogether, it depends on what kind of ghosts living inside the interlude
Thus, be careful who you listen the music with
some melody is louder than the others
**
Today I played the music box you gave me on my seventeenth birthday
How odd it is to realize that music sometimes can be a time machine, how every strings and clinks bring me back to you—towards you
Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 8:56 AM UTC
Ever ******* up?
Ever made a mistake?
Hey listen,
We all play that game.
Something slipped out,
Did the wrong thing.
That's okay,
We all play the game.
The game of being human,
Of living life in haste
The game of being impulsive,
And making mistakes every day.
So don't get down,
By mistakes upon you.
'Cause I know,
You’ve done it too.
So please forgive me
If I do wrong to you.
For when it’s my turn.
For the favor to be returned
It’ll be okay
It’ll work out someday.
Mar 31, 2010
Mar 31, 2010 at 4:55 PM UTC
1995 saw the start of Generation Z,
the ‘iKids’ with a knack for this new-fangled technology,
Millennial 2.0,
caught in the limbo of the World Wide Web development and Rose Gold iPhones.
They say we’re adaptable,
but apparently we can’t make our own decisions about anything.
They say that we don’t care about anything
except for our tiny little screens,
but they forget who put them in our hands,
and they forget who they run to for help
when they forget how to troubleshoot.
They forget what kind of technology we need to keep sustaining life in the Information Age,
Caught in a crossfire because
Yeah, we’re 90s kids—but the 90s never really actually ended until 2006,
the only difference between two decades being
how much neon versus how much chrome,
and just how expensive accidentally opening the internet app on your mom’s blackberry phone was.
We’re nostalgic for all the things we can’t quite remember,
and half these high schoolers weren’t actually born until 2000 or 2001.
Most of us aren’t old enough to even remember 9/11, nothing outside of the news clips that our teachers show us in history class every single September.
I was born in the same year as the Columbine shootings.
The United States has not been at peace for a year of my life.
We are always fighting— fighting for everything.
Human equality,
posing arguments about micro aggressions and refugees, seeing the inhumanity in the past that we’re living.
None of us are older than 21,
under such hard scrutiny while Baby Boomers Wave 2 still run our country.
We inherited the Millenial’s exhaustion,
the generation before us spending our childhood fighting for all the things that we have never really believed in.
Fairytales.
Generation Z.
The ‘iKids’ who are going to one day be making leaps and bounds with technology,
the generation to nurse this dying planet back to health,
Millennials 2.0 who know how to learn from our forerunners’ mistakes,
who know how to adapt from Sidekicks to iPhone 6S Plus in less than a decade.
We’re the kids who have realized that fun is found in safe spaces rather than invading each other’s personal spaces.
They say we’re too sensitive,
but at the same time they claim that we’re desensitized.
And I thought we were the generation that couldn't make decisions.
Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 9:21 PM UTC
In the morning, old becomes new
Birds sing as black slowly turns blue
In the morning, my fears are taken
My faith is stronger, I am not shaken
My fears are taken by morning's rebirth
Fresh as the dew clinging to my feet
In the morning, there is a new me to meet
Whom the blinding night has deemed fit to birth
In the morning, my flaws are still the same
Like the yellow sun, everyday like flame
In the morning, I remember yesterday's mistakes
And I know better what is at stake
In the morning, I let go of the night
I let go of the dark, I embrace the light
In the morning, my eyes are brighter
My dance is better, my laugh is lighter
My smile is warmer, my kiss is softer
My hug is tighter, my speech has no stutter
In the morning, I am all I want to be
Awake, refreshed, hopeful, free
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 8:12 PM UTC
I know you.
Sitting behind a screen in your room,
Sipping in the shadows of a coffee shop.
iPhone, iPad, iAm "Anonymous".
The most dangerous word you can be labeled,
The most double-edged of weapons-
Anonymous.
You're never really as untraceable
As the cleared browser history says you are,
Never as untraceable as the chain of destruction you cause is traceable.
You're never really as invisible
As the checked box lets you think you are,
Never as invisible as the scars you direct a hand to make are visible.
One word can't be all that.
Anonymous can't be so dangerous.
Some clicks on a keyboard can't be so devastating.
There's a reason it used to be difficult to avoid responsibility.
Because responsibility for your words, for what you cause,
Is what allows you to see a few steps ahead.
Your signature is what allows you to learn from mistakes,
To vow after you've learned the hard way to think before you act.
To see that those words have two names attached to them now.
The writer, and the subject.
Two traceable, visible people.
Two hearts beating and breathing, now connected.
Anonymous constructs a wall between action and reaction.
It robs you of responsibility.
Yes, responsibility is a prized possession, there to teach and show.
Anonymous allows you to settle.
It robs you of the greater person you could become.
Yes, your future holds more than this, there beyond the wall of cyber bulling.
I hate that I was once Anonymous like you.
I hate that I unknowingly controlled the strings
Of a self-destructive marionette hand miles away.
But I don't hate you. Because I know you.
I know you are more than the mistakes you've made behind that screen.
I know you are more than Anonymous.
So prove it.
Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 7:13 PM UTC
A lifetime ago, I was younger like you,
before my dreams faded and life was still new.
I wish I knew then, all that I know now,
I wanted our life but didn’t know how.
I settled for less and tried the right things,
and cashed in my soul for all that it brings.
I’ve made my mistakes, like others before,
forgiveness more fleeting, ‘til you closed the door.
Waiting for answers, I went into shock,
you left me no choice but to turn back the clock.
I walk this new path while finding myself,
forgetting our past is best for my health.
As I move along, a decade removed,
my body more fit now to go with my mood.
I realize by now we could have had more,
alone I will see what life has in store.
I so miss the comfort of you every night,
kindness from others, brings love at first sight.
Each new encounter, just gives me a shove,
reminding myself not to fall back in love.
When, where and who will be the right one?
I’ve so much to give, just let it be done.
I may never take them, to become my wife,
but I need embraces to sustain my life.
Addiction exists with drugs and affection,
I’m itching for love at each intersection.
How long must I wait to rip out the sutures?
Pleasure Delayer, indefinite future.
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 5:48 AM UTC
You're a piece of my dad
Sometimes I find him in your laugh
But then your smile goes crooked and your "bugs" act up again
You find clarity for a moment and then your thoughts become distorted
Was the habit to hard to break or did you think the promises I made for you were fake
You always told me every day to never give up why can you not wake up
Dad, Jake.. ?
What's your name ?
I feel like we're strangers and I feel like your love was fake
You took a piece of my sister's away and for that I'll never forgive you
Can't you see your own ****** mistakes
You're blind and they were right you are a snake
You fried your brains and I'm afraid it's to late
I can't save you unless you want to be saved
Oct 28, 2017
Oct 28, 2017 at 11:02 PM UTC
You dig a hole in the ground
You keep digging deep down
So the echo won’t slip
because your goal is to scream
Scream loud
to ease the pain inside
The dirt on your hands
is the hurt, the pain
You’ve been carrying around
Somehow you kept holding on
now freedom is what you seek
Fading memories is your dream
But what happens after you scream?
You have been carrying this weight
on your feet
feeling the heat
Blood flowing through your veins
Love turned into hate & trust into fear
So after all are you really at PEACE?
Then…
The battle with your mind begins
Because digging is no longer your escape
Your own fear has captured you in a cage
So you write it down on paper
Not in pencil but in pen
Because there are no mistakes
That can be erased
What’s done is done
And your shame cannot be wiped away
Once again you fight in the flesh
all you want is peace
And a resting place
Yet you seek no one but yourself.
Aug 5, 2018
Aug 5, 2018 at 2:44 AM UTC
Oh, they think they know.
While second guessing at best.
Pure speculation about us.
About our friends with benefits.
Without understanding just how deep it is.
We see the smiles.
We hear the giggles.
And notice the winking of the eyes.
And they still don't realize just what our friendship truly is.
While they try to materialize to themselves our friends with benefits relationship.
While they think it's ******
Maybe even physical.
None gives it a guess that it's mostly emotional.
When we need a laugh.
When we need a listening ear.
That's when our friends with benefits appears.
When we need advice.
Whether it's good or bad.
That's when our friends with benefits kicks in.
We let them speculate.
We let them make their stupid mistakes.
Even when we could straighten out their wrongs.
All because our friends with benefits is so much more.
Then physical or ******
May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 8:10 AM UTC
I made a mistake
Will you accept a retake?
Even if you don’t
Love you I will
Even if you don’t
Time will stand still
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 10:16 PM UTC