"overreacting" poems
your witty remarks
and hearty jokes
aren't very funny
i thought i'd tell you
before things got
out of hand
i don't appreciate you
calling me
*"sweetheart"
"baby"*
or
"darling"
you are no one to me
and those
nicknames are
reserved
for those who
actually know
how to treat me
as a human
not a plaything
just because
i was born a certain gender
does not
give you the right
to feel like
you have the right
to call me
what you want
and treat me
as you please
my ******
(yes, i spoke the forbidden, sue me)
does not
make me
better
or more
than any
other human
with
any other
*** organs
so next time
you're about to
open that
big mouth of yours
or
put your
arm around my shoulders
or
wink at me
you'd better
think
twice
i'm using
my words
nicely
but
i'm not
always going to be
so nice
unlike what you said earlier
i'm not overreacting
this is a natural response
to everyday sexism
and just because
society has become used to it
adapted to it
accepted it
does not mean
i will give in
or give up
or ever conform
to these
downright disgusting norms
i am a woman
that does not make me
inferior
to those of other genders
nor
am i superior
to anyone
well...
except, maybe,
you
Jul 30, 2015
Jul 30, 2015 at 7:02 AM UTC
Most days, you're not a woman developer,
you're a developer.
You work just as hard,
You (try to) talk just as fast
You keep your feelings under the surface (barely)
Actually, scratch that
You're always a woman developer.
you're just so used to internalizing these habits
Trying to have confidence in your skills
despite the impostor syndrome pulling you down each time slowly, like quicksand
Trying to make up for the confidence you never had
compared to someone who always had it all
Trying to not cry in the kitchen because god who
is allowed to have feelings
Trying not to talk about men who made you uncomfortable because oh my god
for the fact that people call women overreacting
most men seem to make every little statement about them, have you noticed?
oh wow, isn't this just reverse sexism?
oh wow, can I even talk to women?
Being so vocal about being queer and Indian but if you make
one noise
one sound
one phrase
about your experience as a woman
because in such welcoming company you subconsciously thought why not
You let down your guard
But
There goes the shattered glass as the topic of gender-based discrimination is finally broached
There goes the thing nobody ever talks about
There starts the debate you did not want to participate in
"Oh wow you're so harsh to these guys"
"We were just slamming what they were doing, you slammed their actual personality wow"
"I just said they sounded like a brogrammer"
"sure if you say so"
"Isn't that just an arbitrary description"
How do you explain
How do you describe every nuanced experience about
Every male in your life
who have been exactly like this to you
How do you explain the light discrimination
The harsh discrimination
The systemic problem as a whole
How can you condense all this into a workplace environment talk
Where you don't usually talk about this?
Where you don't know if you can actually talk about this
Where you know that you ultimately don't want to talk about this
cuz how can you explain these feelings that they can never understand
You shut up and move on with coding.
But inside, you're conflicted with ideas of presentations to express the fact, or never speak about this again
Because in the end,
You're just a developer, not a woman developer to them.
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 10:42 AM UTC
They called her an attention ***** for the last time
As she put the gun to her stomach and pulled the trigger.
The fat girl
The bipolar girl
The depressed girl
The nymphomaniac
The airhead blonde
The discarded cheerleader
The broken hearted
The girl who cuts
The girl who cries
The girl who has a eating disorder
The girl who can't help herself
The girl who is always alone
The girl who gets yelled at
The girl who always gets *****
She just wanted love
But this is all she has
She has a cheating boyfriend
She has a horrible father
She has an abusive mother
She has a shattered heart
She has a numb mind
She has a lost hope
She has a sharp knife
She has a loaded gun
I'm sure they just wanted attention. I'm sure they were perfectly fine.
I'm sure they didn't need the helping hand. I'm sure they're just overreacting.
I'm sure she's dead. I'm sure you don't really care.
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 3:07 PM UTC
I care for you,
Because i love you.
I care for you,
Because i dont want anything bad to happen to you.
I care for you,
Because you are very essential to me.
I care for you,
Because i dont want to lose you.
But being too caring,
Becomes controling.
Becomes overprotective.
Becomes overthinking.
Becomes overreacting.
But be worried.
When they start to not give a **** about you,
Everything is gone.
Because i did.
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 1:21 PM UTC
Some things exist behind curtains of experience.
Those whose tongues have
tasted the holy fire know the touch
of something divine.
Those who have laid eyes on
their sleeping bodies, and walked
away to places unknown, can grasp
the idea of an inbetween.
Those who have groped in the darkness
for something to believe in again, who
have longingly looked over the cliff edge,
know that true despair does exist.
As for me,
I know that true fear can
come in the form of footsteps
behind you on the empty street.
The person at the bar who insists on
hollow compliments and free drinks.
Friends who scoff at your anger for
men who yell out their passenger side
windows about the treasures beneath
your clothes.
True fear can come in the middle
of the afternoon, as you face
off against the four floor staircase
to your apartment, when your steps
are echoed by the man in 2b who has
a wife, son, and a taste for resistance.
Don't tell me I'm overreacting,
when the single most terrifying thing
I can do is walk alone under the street lamps.
Don't tell me I'm too uptight just
because I've learned that flattery
can come with a horrifying price tag.
Don't tell me I'm wrong just
because you don't understand.
Look me in the eye when you have
waited until a security guard can walk you
to your car. When you have held your
breath in a shared elevator. When you have
lowered your eyes to the men who yell
obscenities at you, because standing up
for yourself could prove deadly.
Look me in the eye when you have held back
the curtain of experience, and walked in the shoes
of someone who lives every moment knowing
this could be the day someone decides to steal
from me what is only mine to give.
Then look me in the eye when you tell
someone of your wound, and they reprimand
you for daring to walk this world as a woman.
Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 9:26 PM UTC
Thoughts racing, heart chasing.
You're mad, I'm sad.
Can't stop shaking, there's no faking
When I see you in the halls,
I stall, hide behind a pillar, a friend, anything
Just to avoid the awkward eye contact.
I'm not good at confrontations, at the mere thought of it I flee..
You might think I'm crazy or immature,
But when you told me to stop talking to you my mind went a blur..
My friends say you're overreacting, over something so small.
I fear you'll dump me, leaving me lonely..
I'm so sorry.. Please forgive me?
Apr 5, 2018
Apr 5, 2018 at 3:56 PM UTC
You laughed
when my sleeve hiked up
"Oh no, you're one of them."
You laughed
when I wanted to die
"You're overreacting, you just need some sleep"
You laughed
when I showed you my favorite song
"That is plain out pathetic"
You laughed
when I said goodbye
"you're not gonna do it. You never do"
Will you laugh
at my funeral
in the morning?
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 8:36 PM UTC
It's an anxiety attack waiting to happen when I can't think of a witty way to say something unoriginal; something that everyone has heard before, but that just now occurred to me to say. I can feel my thoughts racing, my heartbeat speeding up to pump blood to my overreacting brain that's now thinking, "How the **** am I gonna get these feelings out, now?" I can't think of a cunning way to use a metaphor--one that I need to be able to put this pen to the page and call all these thoughts in my head poetry.
What is the meaning of poetry? I feel like I should have some kind of figurative language in here, but my brain is fried. I'm too numb to process a **** thing. I'm so numb that it physically hurts and that pain is all that I can feel. That and the burning of my eyes from lack of sleep. This isn't poetry. I don't know what this is--random words strung together by a writer who's falling asleep at the page, who doesn't even know what sense is at this point. It's a rant...it's a ramble. Sleepless ramble
Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 10:22 PM UTC
Here we go again
Not a single word in sight
No attempt at contact
Did I do something wrong?
Or are you ignoring me
Am I too clingy for you?
I don't believe a simple "Hello"
Every once in a while
Is considered too much
Maybe you're busy
And I'm overreacting
I can't help
But to worry myself sick
All these what if scenarios
Only to conclude you are alright
The sun resets itself
Leaving us another cyclical day
Of worry and ignorance
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 7:00 PM UTC
**and
i don't know
if this is me
just overreacting,
but
the only reason it scares me
when the wind causes my bedroom door to slam shut,
is because
i'm deeply afraid
that
i'll get used to the sound of people leaving.**
Nov 20, 2015
Nov 20, 2015 at 1:34 PM UTC
I am standing still as a rock curled up on the floor shaking back and forth. I am overreacting in response to your underreaction and something in my body just doesn't feel right anymore. A piece of me is angry that you dared to have this much control over me. Why were you trusted with a sword you didn't know how to use? Because these wounds are leaking blood and staining the new clothes I'm wearing for you. My underwear is covered in pictures of your favorite fruit that will never taste the same again.
I am trying to rationalize your behavior. I am making up excuse after excuse for you and I am disgusted with myself. It was you who put me in this situation and it is all your **** fault which is why I am to blame. I didn't know that nothing was strong enough to break glass, but here I am shattered after your lack of words struck me. Who do you think you are, because apparently I know nothing about you.
It was so subtle that I almost missed its hands wrapping around my throat. My face was blue by the time your rejection had sunk into my skin, pins and needles over every bit of flesh. I was changed in an instant.
You don't miss me back.
That knowledge bouncing back and forth inside of my skull on a Monday night. And maybe you were tired or maybe you were stressed or maybe you were revealing the truth to me, finally, releasing your feelings, or lack there of for the first time. Wasn't I so lucky to be there for your debut? I can feel ants crawling around on my heart and they must be hungry because they keep biting away miniscule pieces of me that I guess I didn't need.
You mean so much to me but I must be meaningless. I am breaking down and apparently you couldn't care less. You never told me you didn't love me, you never told me you didn't miss me, I had to figure that one out for myself, you never told me I was nothing, but that is how I am feeling.
And soon you will have to see my face and I will get to look upon yours and we will be together. My soul will be screaming out at you, demanding to know what changed, but my lips will not make a sound. I am silent and it has always been my greatest weakness, well, until I fell in love with you, anyway. All of this pain, yet I won't have a word to say. I am trapped here wondering what way it will go. Most of me doesn't even want to know. It's only a matter of days and even after all of this, I still manage to miss you, but
You don't miss me back.
May 23, 2017
May 23, 2017 at 8:13 PM UTC
ebony colored skin and chocolate eyes
hair like spirals and coils dripping down
a face so sculpted it seemed crafted by the gods themselves
her hips spread and attached to a thin waist
and lipids gathered in thick bunches below them
she eyes her features in a mirror and grows in a sense of loss
an innaccurate feeling, but she gets it anyway
why?
when she was 5 years old she went to school
with her hair out of braids, curls voluted
she was ecstatic to share it with her friends
but, they just laughed and pointed
and her teacher scolded her
and tried to tame it down with vicious twists
when she was 11 years old she went to school excited
she was ecstatic to see the boy with ivory skin that she liked
but, he whispered about her
and a girl told her that he didnt like her
because she was too “black”
on her 17th birthday she gathered up all of her courage
and stood up for herself
when another girl with eggshell colored skin
told her that she was inferior
and belonged as a slave
and people told her to stop overreacting
and her teacher kicked her out for being violent
so she went home
let a stream of tears loose
and finally told herself that they were all right
she lost every shred of self worth
that’s why.
Jan 24, 2018
Jan 24, 2018 at 7:37 PM UTC
The words I speak don't matter
to those who don't listen.
Screaming air to those who
don't care.
They think my lips spill poison
and would rather sew them shut.
And would rather mute my voice
to their locked ears.
I breathe fire
baked from years and years
of pressure from all around.
All the little sparks and scars
added up for so long
until I can no longer hold it in
my mind and heart.
You may believe me to be overreacting
to childish play
or teasing words
but what do you know?
Do you care?
Do you know what it's like in my shoes?
Can you take all those pinpricks of pain from over the years
and still stay sane?
They'd rather have me stay quiet.
Silent
Don't start a ruckus or
Complain.
Out of the way and never
bothering the
structure of our world
with my pain.
And why?
is maintaining a lie more important
than my voice?
Sep 22, 2018
Sep 22, 2018 at 8:51 PM UTC
something seems different
part of you has changed
i don't know what it is
but you don't react the same towards me
did i do something?
am i overreacting?
Sep 22, 2016
Sep 22, 2016 at 5:23 PM UTC
Maybe I've become to attached Maybe I fell for u to hard
Maybe I'm just overreacting
Or maybe the spark is gone
I've been thinking lately
Maybe I whine to much
Maybe I'm just a loser
Maybe her love for me is gone
I could just be overreacting
But all the signs lead to this
Maybe she just doesn't want this
What could I be doing wrong
Maybe I love her to much
Maybe I annoy her
Or maybe there's someone else..
Idk maybe I should end it
Before my heart is broken
Maybe this is just argument
But how do I know
She says jokes to play with me
But what if their real
What if she thinks I'm soft
What if she thinks I'm small
What if she thinks I'm just another boy
But she'll know I've been all in
Since day 1
She'll know that I love her
She'll know that she's my world
She'll know that she's my favorite girl
This more then me just venting this is me pouring my heart to person who I don't know if they care anymore?
So I wanna hear it from your lips
I wanna hear u say it in my ear
I wanna hear u say it to ur mom
I wanna hear u say it to a friend
I wanna hear u say it to the world
That you love me and you'll never put someone above
I want you to be all in
I want you to show me that your foreal
I want you to prove to me that im yours
I want you to say to me that I'm your world
You know I sound like a ***** typing this but I don't care
Only a real man can show his feelings to a girl
Only real man can say he loves his girl
Only real man can shout that he loves Reina Marie
So can u tell me do u love me ?
Nov 7, 2012
Nov 7, 2012 at 1:12 AM UTC
Babe your fine,
But that’s not what my broken veins say
Love, it really was nothing, stop overreacting
But that’s not what my broken veins say
Sweets, I don’t know her
But that’s not what my broken veins say
You know I’m the only one for you
But that’s not what my broken veins say
Couples are teams, and teams have no secrets
But that’s not what my broken veins say
I need you to do this, or we wont work
But that’s not what my broken veins say
You’ve caused this.
But that’s not what my broken veins say
It’s your fault it happened like this
But that’s not what my broken veins say
I didn’t hurt you, you did this to yourself
But that’s not what my broken veins say
But because I love you, I’ll look past it
But that’s not what my broken heart says.
Jun 10, 2016
Jun 10, 2016 at 1:13 AM UTC
Dear *********
Stop playing with me. I don't know if you do it for amusement or just to be an ******* but I am done playing your game. Makeup you god **** mind because lord knows that I have.
You need to stop it. Stop sending me smile and kissy emojis one day, then ignore me the next.
Or tell me that I’m pretty today… then state I look like trash tomorrow.
I don’t know what your deal is. Maybe it’s that as people we are miles apart.
You are attractive, i’m not.
The video games we play are far from similar.
Maybe it’s because the music we like is so drastically different. And yes, sometimes I get mad at you suicide jokes, but I know that you are a good person.
What really gets me mad though is this back and forth. One day you want to have a full fledged conversation and some days, you can’t even look me in the eye.
I know that I’m weird compared to you. I think puns are a gift from god and you think that my double chin selfies are disgusting, but I thought you could overlook my awkwardness… but I don’t want you to overlook it anymore… i want you to embrace it.
Maybe I’m just overreacting? Maybe to you I’m just a friend, and that’s okay with me, but you have to tell me. Believe it or not, I am not a psychic.
If I am just a friend, then tell me that i am just a friend
If you like me, but you’re also talking to other people then tell me so that I don’t have to shut others out because I’m confused if something is going on between us.
And finally, in the rare case that you actually like me, then for the love of god TELL ME
And if you want nothing to do with me… then tell me. And if you think I can’t handle that… then ***** you.
Feb 5, 2018
Feb 5, 2018 at 2:05 PM UTC
You have these wrong judgements about me
And the haughty expectations.
I bet if someone asked a question:
"Do you know your daughter?"
You would say
"Yes."
After all,
You have lived in the same house with her
For sixteen and a half years.
But you can only begin to imagine
The life that I lead.
You know I am liberal,
But my feminist views would shock and disgrace you.
Get your conservative head out of your *** please.
And realize that I care about people
Not politics.
You know I was molested when I was young.
You do not know that a friend has since
Abused my body in unmentionable and uninvited ways.
But I cannot tell you this.
I do not want you to reinforce the idea
That I am overreacting.
You think I am selfish and that all I do
Is pick fights.
I'm actually terrified of rejection
And have minimal self-esteem.
You think that I enjoy going to church
But truthfully, I do not agree with their theology or interpretations
Of most things.
Plus, most Christians are hypocrites.
It is so easy to point the finger
Without actually spending a day in someone else's life.
Oh did I forget to mention
I'm bisexual, I drink, and I have *** before marriage
I'm not exactly up to their standards
Or yours.
This just scratches the surface
Of the reasons why you don't know your daughter at all.
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 11:54 PM UTC
i sat alone
collecting my thoughts
i was caught up in
a beehive of an evening
infested with dreams
drunken feelings
fixed catalysts
kick starting the slow burn
down to our cells
chemicals mixing
+ im overreacting
as i imagine half my life
hanging from the ceiling
WE'RE ALL JUST CHEMICALS MIXING
Mar 18, 2015
Mar 18, 2015 at 2:08 PM UTC
I used to think
that they
were overreacting.
A break up can't
hurt like that.
******
It's all
true.
I reach for the
ice cream.
I must've gained
ten pounds since
I told you
I can't treat you
the way you
want to be treated.
I cannot sleep
at night
Because I
wonder if
you hurt
as much as me.
I cannot listen to
music.
Because every melody
is a memory
every lyric is
our story.
*********
We spent too
much time together.
I told you everything.
I would spend a day
with you.
And when I got home
we'd talk on the phone.
Til the sun came up.
You were the only
one
who
knew
me.
This sinking pit
in my abdomen.
The word
****
constantly on the
tip of my tongue.
The feeling of
hating you
loving you
missing you
wanting you
forgiving you
loathing you.
I cannot
help but think.
I wasted time on you...
May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 3:12 AM UTC
**** I'm so scared
and I'm so in love with you
but I don't have a **** clue
how I'm supposed to trust
that what we have is the thing
gushed about in movies,
and swooned over in novels.
How the hell does anyone decide
that they know with all certainty
and perfect clarity
that that one person
is their one person,
the one meant to be?
I notice little things that irk me,
rub my nerves until they fray
and I wonder, will those
be the things that bring about
the death of us?
Or am I overreacting, overanalyzing
every single moment that passes
because I'm just so ******* scared
of what the future could possibly be.
Because **** am I scared
But **** am I in love with you.
And the biggest torture
of our relationship is,
I don't know which
of those parts of me will win.
Because no matter how much
I am in love with you,
**** am I scared.
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 3:42 AM UTC
there are holes in my body where i was pinned to the stars
my voice cries out to eternity
begging for silence
don't tell me i'm overreacting
when my eyes are bloodshot and blackened
when i'm clutching my knees as i shake
screaming profanities and nonsense and numbers
and how dearly my soul misses the galaxies it's travelled
when i'm begging for peace
whilst waging a war against the dissonance of my thoughts
don't tell me i'm overreacting
when fever dreams are my only escape
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 12:29 AM UTC
I was unprepared for your lack of self-awareness
and the way you approach life like a
kid running the wrong way with the ball.
Sometimes I feel like your mother
sending you to your room so you can tantrum.
Other times I feel like your daughter
when you lay out my shoes as if I can’t get them myself.
Talking to you is throwing rocks at a land mine;
There is a difference between creativity and indecision.
There is a difference between sensitivity and overreacting.
You have to find who you are, and stop lifting so many lids.
Your anxious energy is clinging to my calm like a parasite
Eventually, you need to find a calm of your own
take your spinning outside inward, where things are still.
I want to help you
and I want to escape,
because rarely do I feel like your lover
partly because I don’t want to anymore.
I don’t want your touch, I don’t want your kiss
your hands are vexatious, please just let me sleep!
I don’t want to gag and choke on your tongue.
Just rest for a while,
so I can figure out how to do this.
Aug 2, 2015
Aug 2, 2015 at 10:20 PM UTC
I know I must have lost my mind,
Reaching for something I cannot catch
Or virtue of a different kind.
I never thought that one could find
In someone else a perfect match
I know I must have lost my mind
In a subject so undefined
It's to this feeling I attach,
A virtue of a different kind.
Though after many I have pined,
From this one I can not detach
I know I must have lost my mind.
Oh, many scenes I have designed
But from these I have not a scratch
Of virtue of a different kind.
Were I to speak, and be declined,
To someone else I'd soon dispatch;
I know I must have lost my mind,
Or virtue of different kind.
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 9:31 PM UTC