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"nauseates" poems
Alcoholism took my father away from me. I watched him destroy his life from the age of five. When Austin left us- I watched his life shatter completely. I started to plink away on the piano. Then he started to pick up the pieces. He got his life together, remarried, and is trying to repay a lost childhood. So I continue to play. Now, I'm watching both my sister's life come to crumbles at the lips of a bottle. So I play louder. One has gone to rehab for drugs and alcohol. She is getting better- back on her feet. The other has moved out and cut off communication with our Father. So I keep playing. I'll write a sonng or two for you- and I'll wait for you to come home. All I've ever known alcohol to do- is destroy. And people wonder why the smell nauseates me..
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Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 12:02 AM UTC
Alcohol
Sometimes I love you and it's just Painful Too painful for me to continue For me to fathom what's wrong For me to discern reality from illusions For me to comprehend your lies. Sometimes I hate you and it just ***** Yeah, I said it. Hating you ***** Because life is a lie, love is a lie, My hate for you is a lie- Or is it the truth? I don't know anymore. Sometimes I ignore you and it's just Pure Bliss I close my eyes and ignore you I clap my hands over my ears Pretend I don't hear you Pretend I don't see you Pretend I don't feel you Like I did that night Which was sprinkled with stars like Icing Icing on a cupcake. Sometimes I remember you and it's just Horrifying Two conflicting emotions of deep within battle Fight to seek dominance and reassurance Your love nauseates me and excites me Because I remember drunken words full of poisoned love And I recall your touch that used to heal But now it burns and forever it will hurt It burns and flares greater than any cursed fire. Sometimes I love you, and hate you Sometimes I ignore you, and remember you And life isn't what it used to be It's no longer a fairytale It holds no dram of mercy And love for you is so conflicting So contradicting, so confusing Like yin and yang or something more Faded lines, blurred lies and tear-streaked whispers... Sometimes, I think that Me Loving You Isn't that worthwhile anymore.
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Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 12:25 PM UTC
Sometimes
The doubt is encircling The negativity nauseates My inner soul I can't control what you think Of me The one you claim to love, To want, To need, To treat better. I guess a mistake is better left unspoken But then where's the truth? In the corner, Broken? For the amount you claim To put out I get out nothing, But this heartbroken drought And you ******* believe, That I live for these doubts? And what's perfect, Is you're something I can't live without I can't take all this hurt Steal a glance, walk away Can't breathe deep And rewind So it all goes away No no no Your blows are something that won't start to stray They will stay And will stay And will stay and watch me All Day It may sound cliche But it always rings true: I can never escape When my heart lies with you.
0
Aug 31, 2011
Aug 31, 2011 at 9:52 PM UTC
All Faith Is Not Created Equal
Ive let you in over and over trusted in what was said seeing as how I love you Now I grow tired of it all breaks my mind from a sound sleep, I'll never to get back Trusted what you've said so many times It nauseates me to know I have done it again Same tricks Same lies Same speech Fallen for you and I know I always will The deception will never cease And I should be used to it by now It is hard living with myself
0
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 10:08 AM UTC
grown tired
Eyes fixed on a flickering screen. Yesterday’s dinner caking itself to the plate. Sheets itching to get off the mattress all while you lay there in your filth. The air of stale sweat and fast food no longer itches your nose or nauseates. Instead, it’s aroma seduces you into staying here another hour. Open the window for some air? No, that would ruin the illusion. Stay here until there’s nothing else to do; until the shops are shut and your friends are asleep and the whole world is sleeping with them. Stay here until the air runs out with eyes fixed on a flickering screen.
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Jan 27, 2017
Jan 27, 2017 at 2:50 PM UTC
Binge Watching T.V. After Binging Everything Else.
My body is overwhelmed with a deep gut wrenching feeling One that sickens your motivation and nauseates the core of your soul. I know I made the wrong mistakes Flipped, turned the page without even reading what the story entailed Wish I wouldn't have turned that book in Its been checked out by another and who knows if it'll ever be returned. It's one of those feelings, the kind that leaves you catatonic Things don't make sense and I'm losing consciousness at elevated peaks Reality is a karmic reminder which feeds me to a daily treat Stuffing me with flashbacks of all the wrongs where I knew it was right I'd like to say "this too shall pass" but it hasn't and I'm not sure it ever will Its been years, feeling like a lifetime This burden has burrowed into my heart Leaving traces of you, leaving remnants of what was once created This burning desire remains at stake If it's going to live within me forever Tall tale sign of regret, Please, someone throw some water on me As if it were a baptism Wake me up and release the chemicals that drown me into this lake of fire
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Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 2:56 AM UTC
Sickened
Malnourished and battered, he shades himself beneath a tree of oak Worn from the arduous weight of responsibility Sunken eyes and filthy hair, baking in the sun Among the rotting, sickly sweet perfume of tender fruit deferred past its peak It sinks deeper through the dirt Decomposing into soil around his tattered heels A smell that nauseates him but amplifies his growling intestine Foul corpses lay among him, tempting a moments satisfaction To relieve the pain of being a beating heart wrapped tight in flesh Fighting against the black staining his exposed legs A newly ripe pomegranate glistening at him from above The sweetest taste he can fathom an arm's reach from the pit But too weak to stand he admires from a distance As the festering pulp claims him as its own
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Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 4:22 PM UTC
Rotten Vines
It’s there when you find yourself in panic, wandering alone in the middle of the night for a glass of water. It’s there when you find yourself facing your living room, silent and dark. It’s looking back to you, as you quickly run up the steps and close your bedroom door in fear that it will follow you. It’s there when you’re laying in bed and a feeling of regret comes within. The feeling gathered from all of your misfortunes in life and you wondering why you feel this way. You wondering why you feel so helpless, a sour feeling in the pit of your chest. You wondering why no one else can see the struggle you bring when you face others. You worrying yourself over one life, your life, in which brings you to tears and the world feels as if it is closing in on you. It’s in the darkest corner of your bedroom. A cloud of dark horror that you cannot distinguish. You believe it to be a black hallucination as the cloud nauseates in its place. It’s there in your classroom. A dull, lifeless thought fighting its way into the back of your mind. It’s hovering over you, as you contemplate whether or not you should speak. Whether or not you should gather your things, stand up, and get out. It’s there for you when you get out. It’s there for you when the pressure in your chest is aching so heavily and the noises downstairs don’t seem to quiet down. It’s there when the voices from the outside are not enough to overpower the voices in your mind telling you to listen to them tell you that you will need to cover your eyes and not pay attention to it. It’s there for you when you need to swallow away the voices in your mind so you can focus on their voices rather than listen to your own. It’s there for you when you swallow away the voices in which they told you to avoid. It’s watching you as you lay your head on your pillow and shift your head to meet it directly. It’s watching you as you watch their faces appear in confusion and guilt, as all the timing in your world comes to a close. It’s watching you shut your eyes. It’s watching you, but you wouldn’t know.
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Dec 15, 2018
Dec 15, 2018 at 11:11 PM UTC
It's Watching You
It’s there when you find yourself in panic, wandering alone in the middle of the night for a glass of water. It’s there when you find yourself facing your living room, silent and dark. It’s looking back to you, as you quickly run up the steps and close your bedroom door in fear that it will follow you. It’s there when you’re laying in bed and a feeling of regret comes within. The feeling gathered from all of your misfortunes in life and you wondering why you feel this way. You wondering why you feel so helpless, a sour feeling in the pit of your chest. You wondering why no one else can see the struggle you bring when you face others. You worrying yourself over one life, your life, in which brings you to tears and the world feels as if it is closing in on you. It’s in the darkest corner of your bedroom. A cloud of dark horror that you cannot distinguish. You believe it to be a black hallucination as the cloud nauseates in its place. It’s there in your classroom. A dull, lifeless thought fighting its way into the back of your mind. It’s hovering over you, as you contemplate whether or not you should speak. Whether or not you should gather your things, stand up, and get out. It’s there for you when you get out. It’s there for you when the pressure in your chest is aching so heavily and the noises downstairs don’t seem to quiet down. It’s there when the voices from the outside are not enough to overpower the voices in your mind telling you to listen to them tell you that you will need to cover your eyes and not pay attention to it. It’s there for you when you need to swallow away the voices in your mind so you can focus on their voices rather than listen to your own. It’s there for you when you swallow away the voices in which they told you to avoid. It’s watching you as you lay your head on your pillow and shift your head to meet it directly. It’s watching you as you watch their faces appear in confusion and guilt, as all the timing in your world comes to a close. It’s watching you shut your eyes. It’s watching you, but you wouldn’t know.
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23
I can handle blood, okay? Knuckles when my wraps are loose Sucker punches to the nose Scalpels, scissors, screws When the first incision flows What I can't handle Is knowing that I could slip from your mind Into a pile of spontaneous moments A slew of songs and stars A collection of couches and cars I check my phone too often now So do not disturb stays on Because when I do it, Your message lives in a paradox of quantum superposition Both sent and unsent, simultaneously I don't have to wait in pain for pings To remind me that you care You crush me with care But I will have to leave My land of delusion State of confusion Cut off the perfusion And come to a conclusion My conclusion is: I hate that my heart hurts I hate reality sinking in I hate leaving behind sparkles Why couldn't they just stay locked up In my all-too-familiar bottle of prosecco? Why did you have to shake it up And leave shimmer all over me? Why do you make me want to Sacrifice precious sleep For another chance to impress you And make you want me again? I'm now not-so-subtle Which nauseates me more Than waiting for the first cut Because you made me care What a concept! I don't know if it's a nerve block or what But I once was feeling stuck And now I can breathe again I don't even know what I leave you with So I will start with words And Christmas lights I hope you hang up Christmas lights I'll stay in my world of romanticism While methodically trying to not seem crazy I'm never like this But there's just something about you That has made me want to write poetry again.
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Nov 22, 2023
Nov 22, 2023 at 12:41 AM UTC
I leave you with words (and Christmas lights)
I can handle blood, okay? Knuckles when my wraps are loose Sucker punches to the nose Scalpels, scissors, screws When the first incision flows What I can't handle Is knowing that I could slip from your mind Into a pile of spontaneous moments A slew of songs and stars A collection of couches and cars I check my phone too often now So do not disturb stays on Because when I do it, Your message lives in a paradox of quantum superposition Both sent and unsent, simultaneously I don't have to wait in pain for pings To remind me that you care You crush me with care But I will have to leave My land of delusion State of confusion Cut off the perfusion And come to a conclusion My conclusion is: I hate that my heart hurts I hate reality sinking in I hate leaving behind sparkles Why couldn't they just stay locked up In my all-too-familiar bottle of prosecco? Why did you have to shake it up And leave shimmer all over me? Why do you make me want to Sacrifice precious sleep For another chance to impress you And make you want me again? I'm now not-so-subtle Which nauseates me more Than waiting for the first cut Because you made me care What a concept! I don't know if it's a nerve block or what But I once was feeling stuck And now I can breathe again I don't even know what I leave you with So I will start with words And Christmas lights I hope you hang up Christmas lights I'll stay in my world of romanticism While methodically trying to not seem crazy I'm never like this But there's just something about you That has made me want to write poetry again.
Continue reading...
52
tear it from my body- inky tendril by tendril fused into my spine- commanding me when I'm nervous I'm swinging from a pendulum, so high I'd crack my skull if I fell choke it down so far down- the black phlegm that lines my lungs that spit soaked yarn expanding- and collapsing with my breathing I laugh behind a palm that hides black spores eyes so dead behind my smiles coughing- spitting up tar so vile it nauseates I sleep with all the shards haunting my peripheral fragmented memories pungent with emotions I can't soak off scrub and scrub- wish to rinse off down a drain how is no one else seeing the stains- that coat my skin in layers of ink dripping from my skin and splashing with every step I take
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Nov 5, 2024
Nov 5, 2024 at 5:59 AM UTC
depression is gelatinous