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"overreact" poems
**You're a sight for sore eyes Been blinded by the light Too many times** Waves upon waves Of color changing iconic notions Fueled up emotions and sad faces Shadows and shapes shining bright At the height of the modern age **A different way to accentuate the names we put inside our minds Digital rhymes change the journey we travel** When it unravels, we share, post and tag A lag and we're lost in the dim lights of what we do next Shifting through pages of endless faces, words and updates **Times alienate the importance of touch Yet the ignorance has a much higher impact Than the influence of how to overreact** Observe this society.... Is this how our lives were meant to be, Staring at phones and computer screens? **** this technology**, for taking you away from me Taking moms from children and dads from jobs Making every other relationship lose trust and feel wrong **** this technology for what it does to me** What it does to you, to society. **** this technology, but don't you dare try to take my phone from me.**
0
Aug 23, 2014
Aug 23, 2014 at 4:10 AM UTC
Technological Mind Games
I stare at the crowd rapid breath intakes sweaty palms I can't do this I look back at her telling her I can't do it don't overreact she says my heartbeat is deafening faster faster as if it wants to escape I can do this I think but i know I can't I'll fail fail f a i l I feel nauseous why am i so stupid all I have to do is go there just walk **** it why am i afraid? I can do this, I convince myself again but my heart and sweaty palms told me otherwise   I look back to her again with my pleading eyes on the verge of crying *it's so simple how can you fail, everyone else can do it* she says simple for her, but I am not her nor everyone else why are you forcing me? i bite my lip, so hard that it's bleeding I stammer but- I - can't-do- it why can't you understand?
0
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 9:16 PM UTC
anxiety attack
"The global bull market has continued its seemingly relentless advance, unchanged by geopolitical concerns…….." • The Israeli-Hamas conflict now blazing in Gaza, Palestine, two military forces locked in a deadly struggle to the end, killing and maiming thousands of ordinary citizens. • Malaysia Airlines flight 17 blasted out of a clear blue Ukraine sky by the Bus surface to air missile              unleashed by the Pro-Russian Separatists killing 298 unsuspecting, innocent, international travellers.              Culpability denied by all. • Anwar Al Awlaki, the American born Cleric, directing clandestine terror attacks and assassination by Al Qaeda beyond the Middle east into Asia and Europe. • Deposed President, Mohammed Morsi’s Muslim Brotherhood, responsible for terrorist activities including multiple car bombings throughout Egypt. • President Bashar Assad of the Alawite minority, an offshoot of Syria’s Shiite religion, waging religious genocide against his own nations people              and now in open conflict with the Muslim uprising Sunni forces of the new Isis Caliphate. • The beheadings, slaughter and terror unleashed by the Sunni, Isis Caliphate uprising rampaging through Iraq. • Russia’s sudden invasion and forceful annexation of the Crimea. • Russia’s brutal pressure on the sovereignty of the Ukraine through its clandestine weaponry supply and sponsorship of the Pro-Russian Separatist Forces occupying the nations East. The Middle East is now…an Apocalypse. This epoch of cruel waste Where man kills man For God and gold, For power’s lust. Where the Sword of Calamity Wields destruction and death On those who can least afford it By they who should never impose it. **In the face of all this …..an unbelievable prioritization with this headline quote from today’s NZ Herald…. “There are financial risks to be endlessly jumping at shadows…to overreact to market noise!"** UNBELIEVABLE!!!! M. Auckland, NEW ZEALAND 31 July 2014
0
Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 4:59 PM UTC
Perspectives of Priority
"The global bull market has continued its seemingly relentless advance, unchanged by geopolitical concerns…….." • The Israeli-Hamas conflict now blazing in Gaza, Palestine, two military forces locked in a deadly struggle to the end, killing and maiming thousands of ordinary citizens. • Malaysia Airlines flight 17 blasted out of a clear blue Ukraine sky by the Bus surface to air missile              unleashed by the Pro-Russian Separatists killing 298 unsuspecting, innocent, international travellers.              Culpability denied by all. • Anwar Al Awlaki, the American born Cleric, directing clandestine terror attacks and assassination by Al Qaeda beyond the Middle east into Asia and Europe. • Deposed President, Mohammed Morsi’s Muslim Brotherhood, responsible for terrorist activities including multiple car bombings throughout Egypt. • President Bashar Assad of the Alawite minority, an offshoot of Syria’s Shiite religion, waging religious genocide against his own nations people              and now in open conflict with the Muslim uprising Sunni forces of the new Isis Caliphate. • The beheadings, slaughter and terror unleashed by the Sunni, Isis Caliphate uprising rampaging through Iraq. • Russia’s sudden invasion and forceful annexation of the Crimea. • Russia’s brutal pressure on the sovereignty of the Ukraine through its clandestine weaponry supply and sponsorship of the Pro-Russian Separatist Forces occupying the nations East. The Middle East is now…an Apocalypse. This epoch of cruel waste Where man kills man For God and gold, For power’s lust. Where the Sword of Calamity Wields destruction and death On those who can least afford it By they who should never impose it. **In the face of all this …..an unbelievable prioritization with this headline quote from today’s NZ Herald…. “There are financial risks to be endlessly jumping at shadows…to overreact to market noise!"** UNBELIEVABLE!!!! M. Auckland, NEW ZEALAND 31 July 2014
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28
"PuppyCat" By Arcassin Burnham Magic letters, To the soul, Once it sparkles, Then behold, I need noones everlasting help, But yours, Are you a cat?, Maybe a dog?, Letting all your memories become victims, Of smog, Then turn into a blank Requiem, It goes to show I'm so appalled, I guess you'd never thought I'd with chocolate covered strawberry blogs, Can't look for proper income, Than you better get a job, Can't ever get one, So you worship bones and skulls, May I say more about you overreact, Better keep the faith and love in puppycat. "Chandelier" By Arcassin Burnham We won't be the only two hanging here, Blinded by the light, We should make it last while we still have our dignity, I hope you're not too into me, Cause in a distant memory, I see clarity, Couple drinks in my system, And the remedies, I just hope you're not too into me, Another line sniffed, So we're in another place, Let this not be a penalty, I hope you're not into me, Still hangin.
0
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 2:01 AM UTC
"PuppyCat / Chandelier"
and i’m probably wrong, but- good. everyone else gets to be wrong, and be proud of it, and be supported in their fallacies shallow girls with their fickle girlfreinds so eager to agree that “guys **** hey, newsflash, if you want to earn the right to be so fragile, stop treating other people like they’re made of stone, and these girlfriends who are there for you now, was it only last week that they were all ******* and didn’t you hate them for all the things they said about you to each other behind your back (all the same things you say about them behind theirs) all the girls you would call fat and ugly then turn to me hours later for consolation about insecurities or insult to your own appearance, all the friends you forced me to get to know, then forced me to hate, the warnings you ignored, only to overreact at the end as if you didn’t know, and still somehow blame it or take it out on me. this is for the beanie baby turtle you made me throw out of the window because it was a christmas present to me from your now ex-best friend. this is for the girl i’ve known since i was a toddler that came to my dad’s fiftieth birthday party with my aunt who used to babysit us both. she came along because she thought it would be fun to see all the people that she hadn’t for the greater part of ten years. she came to see me. she was very beautiful. i forced myself to ignore her because i knew how you would have reacted. i will never forgive myself for that. i’ll probably never see her again. this is for the class i failed staying up the night before because “i HAD to call you” the night before the big test because you were so upset over something that was literally nothing at all and i told you it was stupid to act like it was a real problem but i still talked to you well into the early morning as i stumbled around the dark streets in the cold because i needed privacy to talk to you and my roommate was in the room. and so was my calculus book i was trying to read through. but no- you’re not selfish, that’s me. the truth is you need me more than i need you and the truth is when i first met you, you put on an innocent girl act but you were just a **** you and all your friends, the easy, broken girls who didnt get enough love, from semi-broken homes, who didn’t know what normal or okay were, and i gave you everything i could. and you took it all and then you took it for granted and then you took me so far in that i never could get back out i’m tired of being your soft spoken boy don’t tell me i’m inconsiderate. don’t tell me i’m not understanding. don’t tell me you love me when we make up. you wouldn't know the first thing about it.
0
Jun 19, 2012
Jun 19, 2012 at 1:32 PM UTC
fight
and i’m probably wrong, but- good. everyone else gets to be wrong, and be proud of it, and be supported in their fallacies shallow girls with their fickle girlfreinds so eager to agree that “guys **** hey, newsflash, if you want to earn the right to be so fragile, stop treating other people like they’re made of stone, and these girlfriends who are there for you now, was it only last week that they were all ******* and didn’t you hate them for all the things they said about you to each other behind your back (all the same things you say about them behind theirs) all the girls you would call fat and ugly then turn to me hours later for consolation about insecurities or insult to your own appearance, all the friends you forced me to get to know, then forced me to hate, the warnings you ignored, only to overreact at the end as if you didn’t know, and still somehow blame it or take it out on me. this is for the beanie baby turtle you made me throw out of the window because it was a christmas present to me from your now ex-best friend. this is for the girl i’ve known since i was a toddler that came to my dad’s fiftieth birthday party with my aunt who used to babysit us both. she came along because she thought it would be fun to see all the people that she hadn’t for the greater part of ten years. she came to see me. she was very beautiful. i forced myself to ignore her because i knew how you would have reacted. i will never forgive myself for that. i’ll probably never see her again. this is for the class i failed staying up the night before because “i HAD to call you” the night before the big test because you were so upset over something that was literally nothing at all and i told you it was stupid to act like it was a real problem but i still talked to you well into the early morning as i stumbled around the dark streets in the cold because i needed privacy to talk to you and my roommate was in the room. and so was my calculus book i was trying to read through. but no- you’re not selfish, that’s me. the truth is you need me more than i need you and the truth is when i first met you, you put on an innocent girl act but you were just a **** you and all your friends, the easy, broken girls who didnt get enough love, from semi-broken homes, who didn’t know what normal or okay were, and i gave you everything i could. and you took it all and then you took it for granted and then you took me so far in that i never could get back out i’m tired of being your soft spoken boy don’t tell me i’m inconsiderate. don’t tell me i’m not understanding. don’t tell me you love me when we make up. you wouldn't know the first thing about it.
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51
We were so ecstatic waiting for the wind to wind its way through the trees-- there was an electricity in the air, a charged warning. We sat on the porch guarded by oversized hoodies and a wooden awning-- smoked bowls and snickered at the squirrels dashing lightning speed from unsteady branches into hidden havens. For hours we waited and watched lawn chairs, trashcans, and fields of leaves swirl up into the sky, finally earning a retreat into chaos. The newly boarded windows withstood the huffing and puffing of nature’s big bad wolf- he was not so ravenous this time. Not like Katrina or Andrew. Not enough to warrant a week of cancelled classes and hours of uninterrupted news coverage- how quickly we overreact to even the slightest threat of rain or snow. This was nothing more than a PG rated epic but parents sheltered their children, covered their eyes and ears, rocked them to sleep as even picnic tables stood their ground.
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Jul 13, 2010
Jul 13, 2010 at 9:37 AM UTC
Reflections On Hurricane Isabel- September 6, 2003
words preached of two parallel worlds one created of an original half deities from above create one universal, with separate bodies human nature craves desire and to be cherished infants cry out for the care of a mother children tease and chase the other gender without purpose from our creation, we long someone to be paired with without reason, we are left to discover encouragement and reason for our actions first kiss butterflies flutter cheeks flush pre-adulthood beings overreact to one longing stare hoping and gossiping of its purpose human nature desires to be loved stupidity results in misguided and unknown meaning of love left alone to interpret vastness of this word "love" definition is set in stone for its your other half another heart that beats to find the matching rhythmic pattern two bodies, one soul and you my dear, are extraordinary smiles spread uncontrollably dimples appear, and cheeks flush once more kisses and hugs erupt in chaotic nerves quivering this, my darling, is our definition defining our need to express and discover our shared soul
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Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 2:40 PM UTC
Shared Soul
Want me to tell you a secret? I could tell you the secret but then I might have to **** you The truth hurts so my hands gripping your throat kind of matches up No?, well **** it All lies don’t sink because the truth floats **** do you need from me? You ask for the truth But I don’t believe you can handle the truth You’ll get crushed under the pleasure like fat chicks ******* midgets The lies keeps a smile on your face wouldn’t you agree? I the truth is the lie’s shadow I’d rather lay with you Yes, I’d rather lay here and continue to lie here Than give you my honesty cause honestly your just going to overreact Which in turn you’re really just going to react the way your suppose to See in a perfect world lies wouldn’t be told And the truth would be accepted without drastic measures I’d tell you the truth but you always told me to tell you what you want to hear The truth is far from what you want to hear so I’m a keep it far from your ear lobes
0
Feb 28, 2011
Feb 28, 2011 at 7:30 PM UTC
Truth behind a lie
The walls tremble before the doors do, before his voice splits the air like a storm, before Mom folds herself into silence, before my brother pulls me into the closet, his hand firm over my mouth, as if my breath could betray us. Mom whispers, “It’s okay, go to bed.” But I count the slams, the crashes, the cries— and wonder if children like me ever learn how to sleep. I stay because I love them, because they need shelter, food, warmth— because he wasn’t always this way. Because I don’t know how to leave with nothing but two small hands gripping mine. It’s not always bad. Not always. And they need their father. Don’t they? She won’t leave. She can’t. There’s nowhere to go, no money, no lifeline— not with two kids and a court that won’t see past him. A good man. A working man. A provider. So I let her cry in the dark, let her call it what it is—hell— but tomorrow she’ll still pack lunches and fold clothes. She’ll still tuck us in at night. She’ll stay. Because that’s what mothers do. You don’t leave over a bad temper, do you? Men get angry. Women overreact. He’s stressed; she should be more patient. He works hard; isn’t that enough? At least he’s here. At least we have a roof. At least the kids have a father. At least. For the kids, she stayed. For the kids, I watched and learned: that love is sacrifice even when it shatters you; that family is loyalty even when it bleeds; that silence is safety even when it suffocates you. For the kids, I found someone just like him. For the kids, my brother left fingerprints on his wife’s arm. For the kids, we swore we’d never be like them— but we were already broken in their image. For the kids, we stayed in pieces too long. For the kids, we told ourselves lies we didn’t believe: “It’s different this time.” “It’s not so bad.” “We’re doing it for them.” Love does not slam doors off their hinges. Love does not leave bruises hidden beneath sleeves. Love does not shrink you until your children can barely find you anymore. Love does not teach daughters to endure pain as proof of devotion— or sons to wield anger as power over others. Love is open arms and steady hands; it is words that heal instead of wound. Love is a home where no one has to run or hide or whisper “It’s okay” through tears. Love is leaving when staying means breaking— it is showing your children that love should never be feared. Love is a mother who stands tall enough for her children to see her strength. Love is a father who earns respect without demanding fear. Love is a child who never has to wonder: “Is this normal?”
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Feb 14, 2025
Feb 14, 2025 at 4:15 PM UTC
The Lies We Tell Ourselves on Valentine’s Day
The walls tremble before the doors do, before his voice splits the air like a storm, before Mom folds herself into silence, before my brother pulls me into the closet, his hand firm over my mouth, as if my breath could betray us. Mom whispers, “It’s okay, go to bed.” But I count the slams, the crashes, the cries— and wonder if children like me ever learn how to sleep. I stay because I love them, because they need shelter, food, warmth— because he wasn’t always this way. Because I don’t know how to leave with nothing but two small hands gripping mine. It’s not always bad. Not always. And they need their father. Don’t they? She won’t leave. She can’t. There’s nowhere to go, no money, no lifeline— not with two kids and a court that won’t see past him. A good man. A working man. A provider. So I let her cry in the dark, let her call it what it is—hell— but tomorrow she’ll still pack lunches and fold clothes. She’ll still tuck us in at night. She’ll stay. Because that’s what mothers do. You don’t leave over a bad temper, do you? Men get angry. Women overreact. He’s stressed; she should be more patient. He works hard; isn’t that enough? At least he’s here. At least we have a roof. At least the kids have a father. At least. For the kids, she stayed. For the kids, I watched and learned: that love is sacrifice even when it shatters you; that family is loyalty even when it bleeds; that silence is safety even when it suffocates you. For the kids, I found someone just like him. For the kids, my brother left fingerprints on his wife’s arm. For the kids, we swore we’d never be like them— but we were already broken in their image. For the kids, we stayed in pieces too long. For the kids, we told ourselves lies we didn’t believe: “It’s different this time.” “It’s not so bad.” “We’re doing it for them.” Love does not slam doors off their hinges. Love does not leave bruises hidden beneath sleeves. Love does not shrink you until your children can barely find you anymore. Love does not teach daughters to endure pain as proof of devotion— or sons to wield anger as power over others. Love is open arms and steady hands; it is words that heal instead of wound. Love is a home where no one has to run or hide or whisper “It’s okay” through tears. Love is leaving when staying means breaking— it is showing your children that love should never be feared. Love is a mother who stands tall enough for her children to see her strength. Love is a father who earns respect without demanding fear. Love is a child who never has to wonder: “Is this normal?”
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61
I've been told I feel too much I overreact As I'm easily judged I overthink Fervently speak You dismiss my beliefs And enforce critique I've accepted your view It's not mine to change But open your mind As our perspectives exchange It's a gift and a curse This heart of mine For those I love or barely know I'd drop everything, in the blink of an eye It's true, I feel ten times more than you Your words hold the power To rip me in two But also know I laugh louder than most Joy floods my veins Insanely compassionate--diagnosed Worn heart on my sleeve Isn't that what they say? My emotions revealed Requires more strength than you display I choose to see good In most everyone I meet The world is cold enough I empathize, I know how it mistreats The spirit of a child My soul in search of wonder At the sight of the ocean Or the clapping of thunder I believe this is beauty A mystery most won't comprehend I'd face the demons before you If it meant your nightmares end I'll never stop feeling so deeply Believe me when I say I've tried Every fiber of me is stitched in love An easy target, but you're welcome inside © JL Smith
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May 17, 2018
May 17, 2018 at 2:54 PM UTC
You're Welcome Inside
Regretting the juice I spilled on your lawn and lingering on the things I said that sounded like my mother, I drank myself to whispers so I could stop myself from yelling. There are books about people like me, people like me whose whispers hurt their children, but that's the only good reason to be forty and bitter and alone. So alone that I forget to check the expiration date on yogurt, so bitter that I like 100% cocoa  chocolate. I can hear you forgiving me, as if everything I do is okay at least, maybe until I stop chewing something that isn’t there. You make me feel like I overreact, when you're the one who loved me; when you're the one who left. And when you went the door was left ajar because it doesn't matter who sees into my house, but it matters that I could see into your heart ******* hypocrite). Three years makes you feel like you've had your laugh lines forever but you didn't make me smile and you couldn't see any difference in my eyes when I'm obviously seeing you in such a different way. Facing you earlier in the backyard was like looking at myself (when I was twelve) and it made me happy to be eating 100% cocoa and paying for my rent in cash from my back pocket. I’d forgotten what it was to be afraid of speaking, to be afraid of being alone.
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Aug 13, 2010
Aug 13, 2010 at 8:32 AM UTC
Rotten Ex-Lovers Who Don't Understand
I am dramatic. I like to overreact. I like to laugh loudly I enjoy sobbing I make big deals out of things I make grand statements If you don't like it...? Go away.
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Jul 15, 2010
Jul 15, 2010 at 4:21 PM UTC
Drama
The world is flipped With odd angles And strange curves It has a bit too much Or maybe it's not enough Words invert Shapes mutilate Atoms overreact Emotions are switched Truths are lies Happiness is an emotional overload Stress builds up When's the combustion point? When does it all become Too much Or maybe not enough When do the tears flow up When do our smiles shatter Like glass When does time end In a distorted reality When does time flow Backwards Or is it sideways Odd thoughts become more Abundant Your view tilted 40° to the left Body shifted 32° To the right When does end Where is the clarity Like putting on glasses For the first time Everything snaps into Focus Is that my reality?
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Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 10:00 AM UTC
Reality
ive been going back to a better time collecting comics because it was a hobby when i was a child i got a hacky sack it reminds me off my college days ******** wrestling fan rocking my tees ready to go back to jui jitsu get my black belt play a guitar making music release my soul through the sound write to get it all out since i dont always have some to talk with i dont quick making the comeback learned to stay come not overreact live strong be strong be tough when things go wrong
0
Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 2:19 AM UTC
freeeeee
Wine glass full of water now last weeks was full of pills sat and looked for hours at it no place for happy thrills poured wine in until it met the high point of the pile it melted into mess and gunge that tasted ******* vile didn't really do that much hardly any power didn't want to die or hurt just sleep to numb an hour all that **** is history prescription ripped up in the bin got a happy life for me won't hurt my friends with that old sin painful flashbacks rapist's ghosts I overreact and always frown got to protect my friends the most to remember the ones that I let down
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Feb 16, 2011
Feb 16, 2011 at 12:09 PM UTC
Wine Glass Full of Water
Menial life Going nowhere Stays in on Sundays Don't act your age Forget what you are Fall into that trap Loose a friend Recover Love a man He can't stand you Overreact Fall into a trap Can't start over Goes too fast Lose it all Everyone Matter to no one No one Over the edge Falling over an edge   Alone So alone But Don't apologise
0
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 7:11 AM UTC
Untitled
You'll pay for everything I need and for that I am grateful but you don't even know me you never go to my band performances but band is my life. you never care who my friends are but they're my reason for being everyone on the internet says im funny I can draw I can write I'm an artist I'm a poet You've never seen my sketchbook or read the poems I write when you make me cry Do you care to ask about the boy I'm in love with? thats right you don't know about him though you should he gives me the love and attention you never did you'll never ask me whats wrong when I'm down because you don't care. I ask you to stop texting when you drive because I care about you and you tell me to shut up You spend every weekend at your lovers house because I guess I'm not enough for you I try to tell you these things And I'm terrible at showing how I feel So when I muster up the strength to cry out you laugh because i'm just a stupid teenager and I overreact because my feelings dont count.
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Nov 16, 2013
Nov 16, 2013 at 4:31 PM UTC
My Feelings Don't Count
What the hell is wrong with me? I don't want to care, I don't wanna feel like this anymore I can't ask for your help because i would have to explain myself, and that would make it ten times worse I should just stop speaking to you, but you did nothing to hurt me; I'm stupid and i overreact because I'm insecure and, on my mind, there's no place for me in your heart But what if, maybe, I'm not wrong at all?
0
Jun 12, 2017
Jun 12, 2017 at 4:11 PM UTC
I need to stop crying over this.
Each day when I rise and I walk out my door, The world that I see isn’t mine anymore. The rules are all bent so I can’t see their shape, And on every street corner I pass police tape. When you sign onto Twitter, catch up on the news, But it might not be true, so watch out for the clues. They say, “Hey, you’re transgender? We can’t let you fight.” “Oh, you’re black? Or you’re Asian? We’re best ‘cause we’re white.” If they’re caught in their lies, they don’t overreact, Mumble “something-or-other alternative fact. If you glance out your window one night and you find A torch wielding mob, well, just never you mind. Join the big three ring circus! Its painted faced clowns, And its ringleader with his red white and blue crown! So turn on your TV, watch the latest debate, And what you will see is the next Watergate. Or just do what I do, use your eyes and your heart, Then you, too, can watch as fear tears us apart. Or maybe it won’t, if enough of us see, When we all work together, we still might break free.
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Jan 8, 2018
Jan 8, 2018 at 11:49 AM UTC
In My Eyes
What did you expect from me when I'm crying, and you know every reason why? What did you expect from me when you claim to understand me? It is clear through your tone that that's what you think, but I sure as hell can tell you: you don't know. What did you expect from me when you walked into my room like you owned it? What did you expect from me when you say I overreact, then insult me in any way possible? What did you expect from me? What do you expect from me? I can tell you what to expect. But maybe that might be an "overreaction." I don't answer to you. Good bye, and good riddance.
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Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 10:39 AM UTC
What Did You Expect From Me
I'm fiery, impulsive. I talk too much, I think too much and sometimes not at all. I complain a lot, and I cry and laugh, I blab a lot, overreact. Hyperbolise, and overanalyse and take things wrong and get offended, I don't trust, I hate, I love with fiery passion, I've hot blood. The sea's not always calm, please captain, take me, I might be too much, but try not to let me go.
0
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 10:29 AM UTC
Untitled
Americans we are oversenstive sometimes. We sometimes overreact to news. We sometimes overreact to statements. We sometimes overreact to others beliefs. We sometimes overreact in crisis. We sometimes overreact to family problems. We sometimes overreact to animals problems. We sometimes need to realize that life is unscripted and we need to react camly.
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Sep 15, 2010
Sep 15, 2010 at 6:24 PM UTC
Oversenstive
if i say i love you will you love me back if i say i need you will you need me back if i say i want you will you want me back you say you love me you say you need me you say you want me and sometimes say you don't want to hurt me you always seem to confuse me with your words you never elaborate your thoughts your meaning, your truthfulness, this always have me thinking is something wrong am i replaceable are you true am i fool has our love faded or is our love strong or do i just overreact
0
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 11:22 AM UTC
do i just overreact
You're only as free As you allow yourself to be And I kept holding myself back I kept building a cage In every life stage Imitating what I knew were facts Because where I belonged Was in between four walls To make up for what I lacked I couldn't handle the outside My own potential was denied It was best for me not to overreact Head held high with a stern gaze Always keeping a royal face Every movement was a graceful act Poised and perfect I shall be For one day I will be free Maintain composure before I attack
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Apr 4, 2020
Apr 4, 2020 at 2:30 AM UTC
Poised & Sin