"nastiest" poems
By Amoy
Hiding behind the mask of shame and pain
I pick on you just so I can build my confidence and look cool
Who will help me to unmask my pain and show my true self to the world?
I hide in the hole of my mind waiting for someone to care enough to see through my game.
I hurt people because I’m hurt; I pick on you because I was picked on
I suffer in silence only to spew the nastiest thing that my ego dispels from my soul
Can’t you see that my venom masks my pain?
Help me too; I am the victim who only knows pain and anxiety
Everyone helps the victim; can’t you see that I am a victim too?
Can’t you see that my hurt takes shape and camouflages what lies beneath?
Can’t you see I hurt too?
Tell me who helps the bully?
Is it you? Do u have time to help me?
No one will
I guess u think that I’m a lost cause as well?
I’m not a lost cause I am a worthy cause
Who will help the Bully?
If you can get me to admit that I that I need love too then you have done your job
Help me see that I am worthy, that I can be confident without causing pain
Help me to love myself, that's where most of my pain lies.
Help me; forgive me so that I can forgive myself.
Who will help the bully; is it you? We are victims too
Who will help me see that my future can be bright too?
Who will help the bully is it you?
Feb 12, 2018
Feb 12, 2018 at 8:27 AM UTC
Never let her go.
Even if she has the nastiest tongue,
that not a single sentence she speaks doesn't have vulgarity,
but when she speaks those three words
makes the most beautiful symphony.
Never let her go.
Even if she's the craziest girl you know,
that not a single day you spend with her doesn't have her constantly nagging you,
but when she gives you her most tender kiss and her warmest embrace,
melts the most frozen peaks.
Never let her go.
Even if she loves taking pictures of herself,
that not a single day doesn't drown you with her selfies,
but when she gives you her most beautiful smile,
makes the brightest stars go dim.
Never let her go.
Never let her go.
Because the single day that you do,
will make you regret that you ever did.
May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 4:28 PM UTC
One day you'll find yourself missing her in the worst way there is to miss a person.
Bones in your body cracks in every searching steps.
You can't differ between your sobs and a ticking clock.
And your soul, it wrestles with the one in your head. Daily bloodshed of "This is not real, she is still here." and "This is. It is. She has found another home and she is now whole."
One day you will find yourself missing her in the nastiest possible way there is to be an empty shell.
To breakdown in every intersection you walk in,
and to look at a carcrash and think 'at least I can survive that'.
To feel every fiber every atom in your whole being burn and scream,
they are begging,
they are begging for you to ******* breathe.
To inhale air on to your lungs and not her ever leaving scents,
to put air on it and not chants of 'I miss her' because repeating those words won't take you anywhere but the graveyard.
You'll start making god out of every thing.
Your home, your mother, your socks, the ring you never get any chance to give her.
You just need to hang on to those beliefs, that even if your god won't hear your cries, you can still beg the other ones to return her.
Your knees touch the ground more often than your lip does the cigarette.
(But now that she's still here she'll still be the one taking all the pills.)
Oct 12, 2016
Oct 12, 2016 at 9:05 AM UTC
"Would you like some cake"
A women asked me politely as she was exiting the door holding a tray of cake.
"No thank you, i'm not a fan of cake."
I respond, laughing politely because the situation was a little bizarre.
"That's probably why you're so skinny and not fat."
I didn't respond after that and here's why:
repeat her last line, except with the nastiest tone you could imagine.
Then imagine her glaring at me as she left.
...
What did I do? Why did that escalate so quickly?
What just happened....
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 5:04 PM UTC
FIDELITY? I've always been a strong believer in fidelity until i met him.
He was nothing like the other men, there was an aura about him that pulled you to him, the man was an enigma, sexuality had never been so portrayed by a man but this man was special!
ADULTERY! This man had charmed his way into my life and boy did i not know what i was in for! He was married yes, i was entertaining young men yes but i was overwhelmed by my feelings for him that i embraced it and loved the fact that he was married and i had a man, men? i really didn't care.
******* The first time he took me was on his office table, we didn't make love, all we did was **** he was rough and would say the nastiest things, i felt like a ***** and i loved it. he wouldn't even bother closing the door, made it more intense. we would be at it for hours but still, i wanted his filthy **** after we were done, plunging in so deep, filling me with his seed, spending time in his office in the pretense of working. Well he was working me and i was rocking his ****
LUST? Lust was all i felt for him, it wasn't love. i wasn't so gullible to think so because when i woke up i couldn't even remember his name. maybe it was a dream showing me how the other half lived.........
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 7:30 AM UTC
Almost all my most popular poems
Are the ones kicking Trump’s fat ***
I know after November sixth for sure
This particular issue will lose gas.
While that will slow me down for sure,
It won’t make me loathe him less.
He’s a charlatan, a liar and a ****
In almost every way a total mess.
Donnie, Donnie
You are such a creep!
Only fools would elect you;
Good people would lose sleep.
It simply doesn’t make sense
They don’t know what they’re doing.
A Trump-like presidency
Would bring this world to ruin.
So I will have to maunder around a bit
To find a juicier source of poetic satire
Than the Big Cheetoh has often been.
He’d open his mouth and spew hellfire.
He frothed and threatened and whined,
And for the most part the scorching
Ended up being his own big ****
And never was an *** more deserving.
Donnie, Donnie
You are such a creep!
Only fools would elect you;
Good people would lose sleep.
It simply doesn’t make sense
They don’t know what they’re doing.
A Trump-like presidency
Would bring this world to ruin.
He’s arrogant and babbles lies
One of the nastiest people ever seen.
He only seems to make sure his face
Shows in photographs in magazines.
He has little understanding of the job
He thinks he wants to be chosen for.
He expects everyone to bow and scrape,
To compliment, effuse and to adore.
Donnie, Donnie
You are such a creep!
Only fools would elect you;
Good people would lose sleep.
It simply doesn’t make sense
They don’t know what they’re doing.
A Trump-like presidency
Would bring this world to ruin.
Oct 27, 2016
Oct 27, 2016 at 6:04 PM UTC
We've known each other for long
But still, you can't say a thing
That would define me
What's that spark you see?
Well, I don't know
You have no clue what lives inside my guts
No way you could see within
So why are you still here, wondering who's under the skin?
I don't want you to get ***** finding out who I am
Coz there's a lot of **** inside my head
And much more ***** in my heart, both can't be replaced
No point in cleaning it up, trust me I've tried many times before
And I don't really need you
To see the mess
People around me have done
Coz you've helped them too
I'm sorry that it's true
And there is no cure for me
So don't try to find it
Or else, regrets will hunt me down
Because you've wasted your time not only
On me, but on my issues, too
How many times have you cried because of me?
How many times you wished you were dead
Because your feelings were accepted but not given back?
Tell me, I'll listen before I go, disappear on the quiet bubbly road
There's bulimia in me, I figured it out
Vomiting feelings I've once accepted, not able to answer them
And now giving them back in the nastiest way possible
Covered in dark bubbles, smelling like death
And I would kneel by the toilet
Throwing up all the things I didn't mean
But said with a smile, hoping you'll be glad
Because we are friends, right?
It leaves bitter taste that stays for days
And I can't help but think
Why do they try to see the darkest part
Where everything is messy and covered in blood
Examination of my fakest smiles leads them to realization
There's something wrong with my heart
And I appreciate that you care, yet
I'm sick of it
I can't handle feelings of others and
That drives me insane, needing more shots
So I could spit all the mess out from my mouth and get rid of it
You really are there when I need
Thanks about that by the way
But you can't heal a bulimian heart
That's sick of all this attention that
You're giving me
It's not your fault, it's just me
Knowing people who get too much attached to me
Will get hurt
So my brain starts fighting against it, leaving my heart with a message
Don't let them in and if you do
Get them out like stomach does
When it can't handle the food
Don't play it nice
Still, I can't help
But don't want to hurt you
Yet you're difficult
So now I'm standing here
Saying these words I've made up
Of what I threw up
Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 11:44 AM UTC
How do you sleep at night
All the stuff you did ain’t right
You cheated and you lied
It’s known about far and wide
Every day more comes to light.
How do you hold up your head
You should be ashamed instead
You’re the cause of many quarrels
You have few detectable morals.
Your honesty balance is in the red.
We all know all we get from you
Is promises that won’t come true,
You don’t care about any one else
All the matters to you is yourself.
You’re outrageous trash in all you do.
So how do you live with yourself
As Santa Claus’s very nastiest elf?
Every rule you choose to break
Is based on whatever you can take
Regardless of hurting someone else.
Wishing you bad usually isn’t cool
But in your case I’ll break that rule
Since you so often serve up hate
What you deserve is that same rate.
I’m polite, but I am nobody’s fool.
So, I hope you get exactly what
The people you have cheated got
That you end up with just a stone
And spend your time all alone
With your hopes and dreams all shot.
Nov 24, 2016
Nov 24, 2016 at 9:01 PM UTC
i ruptured into a
million flickering stars
too long ago, breaking from
touch-induced trauma and the
poisonous aspects of
bleach. my thoughts drip
from the ink veins
of pens; ******* it,
i cannot allow myself
the privilege of
saying, “this
is every secret i
ever hid.” i am not
soft or pretty or
loving; i am small
and hurt and reticent
and guilty and abandoned. i
long to be the
little girl i was six years ago
before he shredded my
insides, sprouted roses
in my blood, wrapped his ******
thorns around my throat. there is
no recognition of that beloved
innocence. the girl in the mirror
never looks back at me: she is knotted
hair, decaying paper skin,
scarlet gashes, pink
scar tissue. i am not
sweet or darling. i am
ravaged. van gogh swallowed
yellow paint to create some
feigned happiness, and i understand
that in the nastiest way. i spent my time
trying to shelter the black and blue
daisies on my hips with makeup,
camouflaging razorblades in fields
of sunflowers, pouring every
unhealthy bit of my starved
stomach into the beautiful
lilies in the flowerpot in the
bathroom. i have unearthed
that home is not the
safest place to be.
i was infected and diagnosed with
the disease of loneliness
by age eight. this wound
has burdened me yet the
ticking time tomb nestled in
the crooks of my devastated
personality will soon detonate; they
told me i was sick, and i think
i finally believe that.
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 10:20 PM UTC
i once heard a quote
it went something like
"one of the cruelest things you can do to someone is to pretend you care about them, more than you do"
that's actually exactly how it goes
might sound nice off some kashi poet's lips
but the feeling is what really makes this string of words strong
one's feelings
real or not
can completely ruin another
and when you finally see
that they don't care for you as much as they used to
or care for you at all, even though they said they did
it hurts like hell.
feels like bullets to your already ****** chest, from your heart being previously ripped out viciously by good ol' reality's unforgiving hands.
and that may be an understatement.
anyways, if you don't love another
or care about them,
don't pretend you do,
because even though those words,
sweet like honey off of your pink lips, make her smile big.
the tears that follow lies
are the nastiest of all
and no sweet words
can fix a broken heart
Jul 30, 2015
Jul 30, 2015 at 10:53 PM UTC
I mean if im being honest the love i deliver
is kinda creepy
but it isn't when you're on your knees asking for
the nastiest things you could think of
Jun 12, 2018
Jun 12, 2018 at 5:41 PM UTC
I didn't realize how much it hurt
Until the next morning when the toxins escaped my blood.
I didn't realize that blood had pooled in my foot,
Leaving the nastiest of all bruisers.
I didn't realize how it had happened,
But I knew it had been done by someone else.
I didn't realize how much pain it caused,
Then felt the pain when I hit it against the door jamb.
I didn't think that it was broken
I didn't think that going to the hospital was necessary
I didn't think that I should stop running to let it heal
I didn't think it was as bad as it was...
People have had worse then broken foots,
And so I am grateful to only have a broken foot
Because having no hands would be worse
Having no hands mean having no expression through writing
Having no hands means not being able to talk without words
Having no hands is much worse than a broken foot.
So I will give into the pain,
Acknowledge the bruise
And realize that all of this was caused by a girl who had one too many shots
And will live with my punishment
Of a broken foot
Nov 20, 2012
Nov 20, 2012 at 9:45 AM UTC
In love forever.
One pen.
A woman.
Intriguing stylish.
Dawning sunrise.
Night that's black.
Daggers pulled.
Put them back.
High heeled shoes.
Having a snooze.
Dozing,
A nap in the afternoon.
In bed.
Head games.
Man calls his woman.
The nastiest names.
Eclectic electric,
that powers the light in her head.
Midafternoon, leading into goodnight.
Just about write.
(c)LIVVI
Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 4:12 PM UTC
give my words back
the ones i have earned through
the books that i've read
in all the years that have passed
give my words back
even the nastiest ones
the sharpest, boldest, the lethal
give my words back
for i cannot even write
for the simplest memoir anymore
give my words back
even the ones you cannot
and will not take
give my words back
i beg you just to grant me
enough power to be sane
and writing is my sanity
don't take it away from me
give me my words back
because even if you
did give them all back to me
they will always and always
speak to you
they will always speak of you
but at least let me keep them
after all, you can only be mine
in words
May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 10:34 AM UTC
sometimes we laugh,
but tears always follow.
sometimes we smile,
but inside, we're hollow.
the eyes tell everything,
but not many can read.
genuine care and some lovely hugs,
maybe that's all we really need.
what you think,
isn't always true.
i promise,
i'll be there for you.
your beautiful smile
is what gets me through bad days,
but i cry inside because
it utterly hurts to see your sad gaze.
your lovely kind words,
they make me flatter,
but nothing's compared to
your love that's grown fatter.
honey, with me you don't
have to bother lying,
because i see it in your eyes-
they're no longer shining.
all i want is nothing more
that to see you at your happiest
even though
you go through the nastiest.
because i long to see
those lights again,
together we'll pull through
this horrific pain.
these last few words
i have for you-
you're strong, you're incredible
and i love you.
(a.p)
Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 6:01 AM UTC
I remember you as the heat of a vague howl.
Of a faint,
distinct yet enthralling moan.
Of the ****** nubility of a forgotten feud.
Reviving and enthralling to sear.
To etch the purple into the nastiest blue.
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 5:00 PM UTC
I like the nastiest bars,
Those where the waitress is called names
But she doesn't care 'cause she's too kind
And tries to keep it all clean for 400 a month.
Those bars have drama
Whole worlds and stories continuosly entangling,
Whisky on rocks, vomits and shouts
Here comes Rita the waitress to clean it all again;
Dogs bark in the streets
Women cry in their beds as men get drunk
And kick the innocent trash can over a discussion about gibberish.
The loner cat lurks the street at night
Hunting for hamburgers that fell off the trash can,
The drunk men start a fight,
'Here comes the police!' 'Run-run!'
One falls, gets the blame and a free trip to county jail,
Three others join a party and feed the ******
Money and **** --- tails.
Finally, the last one goes home
To beat the crying wife over the same junk
And the repressed anger only a coward can hide.
May 30, 2017
May 30, 2017 at 7:52 PM UTC
When your asked to the nastiest ball
And all you want to do is fall
Where mother can't help you out
And your soul heavy like a stout
Take to the streets which are dreary n' beat
Take the road un-wandered n' ponder
What you'd be like without you and me
To help this worries is to make me feel sorry
For' the afternoon we spent together was meant
To hold up for an hours worth of eternity
I mentioned that letter you sent the other day
To a friend that hadn't seen in a thousand years
We spoke about the joke you read in some book
And giggled the night off feeling like crooks
Our heads are heavy with the weight of this world
My feet are soggy from this world's bitter game
All this repetition is starting to get the better of me
The mind is struggling to get the body to believe
Now when I get around to start loving again
And I can raise my head without much restrain
Take my case as that lily blue flower vase
Shines in the morning sun light and hits your face
We could walk for hours as these drunken cowards
Wash away their souls for the Devil has foretold
But me no better with no job just a feather
A lick for the rest of time but don't nickel and dime
Born again born anew born to see the frothing croon
Waits waited but drank too much
His fingers ain't broken he's just getting some lunch
These rattling rips come from a place not of time
This brain ain't mine and it ain't that much fun
A prisoner of the classroom a prisoner in full bloom
Turn to terror and you'll burn just like the bun
Bout round this time people roam in from nowhere n' bored
Heart with her is a thing shared to the nearest core
Ask me the name of a foreign diplomat that knows his math
And I'll ask you to leave with your hat gripped to your back
Jul 25, 2011
Jul 25, 2011 at 5:23 PM UTC
I wish henry didnt do the thoughts that he thought
Was his suicide.
I wish henry could talk.
The point being henry is gone.
Feels like the empty pit of an ocean poem.
The empty walrus has a beard
In it grows the bankers heart
And the crooks on wall street.
My father wasnt what destroyed
The crazy heart of a thurough poet.
Im to normal to feel the big haul
Of the god of henry.
But never the stinking less.
The god that kills poets.
The god who always comes back for more.
If the posh bar in new york closed
Henry would of went next door.
Henry would of been around
A little more to know where he sits
In the book store.
The ****** way to be perfect
Was the nastiest game in
Snowy Michigan.
There ought to be fences on that bridge.
But he would of just climbed over.
Mr. Bones what made henry do it.
Mr. Bones what made henry
Killed henry like the banker
And the revolver from
Oaklahoma.
Empty is every ship returning home.
Henry isnt on the list of survivors stranded
In the aftermath.
Captain henry stayed on board.
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 3:09 PM UTC
We fought
and fought
thinking it was just
petty little fights
But you were different
than when we first met
Saying things like
"I would die if you ever left me"
or
"We're soulmates and we'll never
break up"
And hey,
months ago I was naive
and stupid
and thought maybe that was true
But you said
the nastiest things to me
Making me feel worse than I did
without you
Telling me
No one else would ever "stick around"
Telling me
I need help
I ended it
because I waited for an
apology
that never came
And maybe it's for the
best
Because I was never one for
forgiving
And you were never good with
apologies.
-e.w.
Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 2:07 PM UTC
It was false,
And you were false hope.
You were small bursts of attention,
With the nastiest of intentions.
You were late drunken nights,
With thoughts that sounded right.
Your words slid down my throat so smooth,
I didn't even realize it was poison.
Don't dangle the antidote darling,
I'm too proud.
I'd rather die than beg.
I'm not the weaker of the two of us.
Aug 21, 2015
Aug 21, 2015 at 12:21 AM UTC
Have you ever felt like the tiniest piece of ****
on the smallest fleck of *****
sneezed out by a disgusting snot filled nose,
which sits on the face of the nastiest,
disease filled being in the universe,
eaten by a cockroach,
devoured by a rat,
consumed by a cat,
digested by a dog,
and shat out again,
then picked up,
flushed down the toilet,
torn apart by a crocodile in the sewer,
only to be caught by a trapper,
Then made into a pair of boots,
that stomp through manure all day?
Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 1:34 AM UTC
Standing on shores with a sunset so brilliant;
setting up camp in the sands.
I'll burn the bonfire till your name catches flame
I don't know what I did, but I feel so ashamed.
Why lie to a person so enthralled in your thought,
just lead them on a noose to a cliff.
The stool is not broken so just give it a kick,
and I'll tumble on down to the waters.
I walked into town after sand became glass,
and I conversed with a mad bartender.
He said, "son, listen here. don't waste your time with beer,
'cause you're caught just like a deer in a storm."
I said to him, "man, just give me your nastiest poison
I'm lookin' to nullify these neurons."
He filled up glass fast with a laugh and like that
I was knocked on my *** like a child.
The storms came in, not too long after;
a maelstrom of vicious intent.
But suddenly light broke,
I was soon filled with laughter.
The past is nothing but a joke.
Feb 22, 2014
Feb 22, 2014 at 11:54 PM UTC
Small Issues
When she unlocks her heart
It all comes out
Pouring in a stream
Without seeming end
Everflowing, not always like a river
But rapids
Frothing and bubbling
Heart flushing out poison
Like after a hard night of drinking
When a friend holds hair back
And all the ugliest, nastiest parts roar out
Pushed , upchucked
Without control.
Outflow of bitter
Salt of tears
Tears, unsewn, sometimes ripping bigger
Sometimes just bearing it
The worse for wear.
The fabric of her soul
Is often many-layered
And multi-hued.
Rough-spun jute
Next to softest silk.
But today, as heart is opened,
The key misplaced,
She cannot hold back.
Dizziness and nausea take over.
Silk is torn and waves like a flag.
She raises hands, in supplication
Before holding onto the nearest
Steadying object, be it chair or rail.
Hope arises
for sweet beneath bitter
for clean, warm blood
pumping with life, and flowing purely
for feeling clean after all the poison is out.
She knows it is there, deep down under
muscle and tissue
She knows
light-filled energy is
somewhere shining
in a low rock pool
right around her solar plexus.
"How we only need,"
she thinks.
"To work out
a few small issues."
Relief
And exhaustion
Take over
As she reaches
for tissues
to wipe away pain
and lie down to rest.
There is some down time
before the next test.
Feb. 2014
Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 6:14 PM UTC
I'm the most negative person
I'm the most positive person
I'm the nicest, kindest, loveliest person
you'll ever meet
I'm the meanest, nastiest, cruelest of souls
I'm so skeptical
I'm so open hearted
I live my life with bounded feet
I dance to the beat of my own dream.
I am a conglomeration of contradictions
How the **** am I supposed to know who I am,
What my purpose is,
In which direction to follow
When my soul is both north and south
Light and dark
Love and evil
May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 7:51 PM UTC