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"possessiveness" poems
I am a controlling boyfriend. No, I am not a male, nor do I have a girlfriend to abuse. But I am the crazy stalker controlling boyfriend. I have realized something in myself: I am free with my boy and his casual flirtations, but am extremely jealous and possessive of my girls, when I have one. Or even in my present case of not having one, I want to possess her as she has possessed me. I want all your time, all your thoughts, as you inhabit mine. “How do you handle the jealousy??" It's funny, I don't get jealous when I have both partners in my bed, or in my arms. That is when I’m most content. I get jealous when outsiders are flirtatious or show interest. It's also funny, I'm more annoyed when people flirt with him thinking he’s unattached. I don't get it either; just a quirk of mine. Perhaps my nonchalance with my boy is merely grown out of our time together. In nearly seven years, not one has managed to create a rift. Those who have tried have failed, and he and I have come out the better. Patience is a virtue I do not possess, and the longer I go on incomplete... mayhap my own fears make me dig my claws into a new potential. Fear that someone else will charm such a rare unicorn away from me/us, and we’ll be left again, searching. Nor is this a new feeling, for this young woman. A year ago, I felt the same overwhelming possessiveness. Then again, it would not do to compare the two; they are two different people, who hold different qualities. The bitter jealousy I now project I have tasted before. The shock that I’ve become my own controlling high school boyfriend fills me with disgust. Unbeknownst to her, I imagine her not only in my bed, in my arms, in my life… but also on my knee. I’ve never before considered someone as both lover and submissive. Unbeknownst to me, would that make my jealousy grow or fade, were I to possess her in every way I’ve imagined? Obviously I have some things to work on. Firstly, finding our unicorn.
0
Nov 14, 2012
Nov 14, 2012 at 1:46 PM UTC
Reflections of Myself v. 2.0
I am a controlling boyfriend. No, I am not a male, nor do I have a girlfriend to abuse. But I am the crazy stalker controlling boyfriend. I have realized something in myself: I am free with my boy and his casual flirtations, but am extremely jealous and possessive of my girls, when I have one. Or even in my present case of not having one, I want to possess her as she has possessed me. I want all your time, all your thoughts, as you inhabit mine. “How do you handle the jealousy??" It's funny, I don't get jealous when I have both partners in my bed, or in my arms. That is when I’m most content. I get jealous when outsiders are flirtatious or show interest. It's also funny, I'm more annoyed when people flirt with him thinking he’s unattached. I don't get it either; just a quirk of mine. Perhaps my nonchalance with my boy is merely grown out of our time together. In nearly seven years, not one has managed to create a rift. Those who have tried have failed, and he and I have come out the better. Patience is a virtue I do not possess, and the longer I go on incomplete... mayhap my own fears make me dig my claws into a new potential. Fear that someone else will charm such a rare unicorn away from me/us, and we’ll be left again, searching. Nor is this a new feeling, for this young woman. A year ago, I felt the same overwhelming possessiveness. Then again, it would not do to compare the two; they are two different people, who hold different qualities. The bitter jealousy I now project I have tasted before. The shock that I’ve become my own controlling high school boyfriend fills me with disgust. Unbeknownst to her, I imagine her not only in my bed, in my arms, in my life… but also on my knee. I’ve never before considered someone as both lover and submissive. Unbeknownst to me, would that make my jealousy grow or fade, were I to possess her in every way I’ve imagined? Obviously I have some things to work on. Firstly, finding our unicorn.
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16
I'm weathered and weary from shapes of greed Their colors mislead me I am naive But I know eyes that taste Without seeing Now you know me, don't you? But you are just waiting. I am tired of this misinterpreted concept I am tired of our tangled body's, this act between two that is only about you. I'm tired of not being able to dance freely in fear of needy hands and sharp teeth Pressuring possessiveness Climb into your soul and off of my body See that I am a creature of uninterrupted freedom I will not answer to your hollow eyes Your misconstrued ideas of love constructed by a society that forgot to feel That forgot to see That forgot that you are you and I am me I will not answer to your hollow eyes You are not welcome here.
0
Sep 17, 2017
Sep 17, 2017 at 7:45 PM UTC
Consciousness in Modern Love
When I fall in love I become obsessed. Anger, Jealousy, possessiveness, it all controls me. All my insecurities exposed, my anxieties come out of obscurity. For rejection, unrequited love and deceptions, I have no immunity. But falling in love requires false expectations.
0
Jun 15, 2021
Jun 15, 2021 at 8:45 PM UTC
Love makes me Dangerous
I am constantly checking myself When problematic thoughts enter my mind Or negative feelings originate in The messed up ways I've been socialized to think I do not wish to own anyone or anything Yet sometimes possessive thoughts plague me I must remind myself that we are all only humans Trying to find our best route to happiness This one article stated that The hardest part of polyam relationships Lies in the negotiation between Your and your partners' needs So I must always remain on guard Because the jealousy and sadness coming from within Was bred by the broken systems we grew up in And redefining those is a part of my resistance Monogamy stems from the patriarchy And sexism lies within that Possessiveness and jealousy are not cute They only lead to blaming others for your own inconsistencies And I am a mess of inconsistencies
0
Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 6:00 PM UTC
Polyamory Isn't Easy
Nicknames make me laugh They express a person, Through another persons eyes. Or maybe a name, Given by the person themselves. The love of my life. His nickname is my baby bear. Why? He doesn't have bear like qualities, Nor is he a baby (sometimes) But because for me, His nickname expresses clearly what he is. He is MY baby bear. Without intention it has came to be, The possessiveness that comes out of me. Because no matter what he may be... Sweetie, Hunny, Sugar Pie. He will always be my, My love of my life.
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Jul 12, 2013
Jul 12, 2013 at 3:41 AM UTC
Nicknames
You are my conjecture when the universe ends. I will create geometry, possessiveness and dystopia looking through your eyes. O mystic girl, this time make the world less enigmatic settle down in a small hamlet by the bay cook me fish and rice and I will stay home, always. © Nothing Personal. March 23 2012.
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Mar 23, 2012
Mar 23, 2012 at 6:05 PM UTC
At the end of creation (or at its begining)
On this early chill November morning where are you now, my firefly, in crystal ground, under log or leaf? Where is your crew in its dying? Have your babies wakened to winter sleep? I recall how on July evenings, when I came out, I had long listened for your messages. Blessings to you for accepting me, my witnessing your spotted twists free-floating down; your drifting off and on through moonlit tree, visits to my wrist, a shoe. I was happier than happy— happiest as happy be. Had you felt my spark electric energy? Multiple mystery goes slipping in and out of my pocket. And now, these few months hence, there is this glint on the frost-etched window. Flash of apt stillness. A wild-voiced picture: our pleasure’s twin. How could I say I know exactly what you are? By my ear and everywhere I would say! These light flung words of yours, not mine, to lend. Yet, if I could love you so truly and then release you, would I comprehend what life wishes to teach me about possessiveness, the brevity of existence, time itself, worlds of no time? Most joyful would I leave all the faces of my dwelling. Sail headlong into far-flung dream, toward sky’s moon, hunting the sun. Glimpse heaven in our dancing? Behold you and my own body, firefly, before we were born?
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Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 11:55 AM UTC
Fireflies of November
"You're looking fit," she said, the words sliding off her tongue. "Thanks. So are you." It was a cold walk up to the oak door and my nose was red from the wind. Sun Meadow. That was her neighborhood. A little optimistic for my taste. Five, maybe six, people I graduated with lived on her street. "Where are your parents?" "Cayman Islands. They usually go somewhere tropical after the holidays. I would've gone, but work... you know." "Yup. No time for fun." "You wanna smoke hookah?" "Sure. What flavor?" "Don't be silly; house mix, always." She loved the "house mix." It was a slightly overbearing concoction of apple, banana, and melon flavored tobacco. I ran my hand through my hair to dissolve the snow. Her mom was an interior decorator, so I was surrounded by obscure, obnoxious, and expensive trinkets from God knows where. I sat on a bar stool and watched her make the bowl. Her moves had gone from graceful to inept just as she had gone from goddess to **** in my mind. She set the hookah on the bar and inhaled. Then it was my turn. It went on like that for five minutes or so as she looked me up and down. Every once in a while she would lick her lips or lean forward to expose even just a centimeter more of her ******* "So who's the new **** "Beg your pardon?" "You heard me," she spat. "My left or my right, depending on how many notes I've taken that day." "Ha ha, very funny. How long's that been the case?" "A week or two. Maybe three," I quip. "Restless yet?" "That's all I've ever been." Ashley was never tactful. She showed her hand too fast, but she bet so little it made no difference. She was also never virginal. People often romanticize their first time with stories of secret escapes or innocent awkwardness. I was never like that and Ashley appreciated the monstrous control and possessiveness I wrapped around my ***** I took what I wanted, she told me. She liked that, I guess. She knew a couople girls I had been with-- they'd shared their "stories" with her. Stories of how I'd ripped the innocence from them, the thrill, the wall slamming, screaming, cursing, the painful entrance, strength, weakness, and finally the out-of-breath finish where I left them feeling like rag dolls. Or so I'm told. She liked that. Craved it, even. So, I let her have it.
0
May 14, 2012
May 14, 2012 at 7:36 PM UTC
Ashley, Pt. I
"You're looking fit," she said, the words sliding off her tongue. "Thanks. So are you." It was a cold walk up to the oak door and my nose was red from the wind. Sun Meadow. That was her neighborhood. A little optimistic for my taste. Five, maybe six, people I graduated with lived on her street. "Where are your parents?" "Cayman Islands. They usually go somewhere tropical after the holidays. I would've gone, but work... you know." "Yup. No time for fun." "You wanna smoke hookah?" "Sure. What flavor?" "Don't be silly; house mix, always." She loved the "house mix." It was a slightly overbearing concoction of apple, banana, and melon flavored tobacco. I ran my hand through my hair to dissolve the snow. Her mom was an interior decorator, so I was surrounded by obscure, obnoxious, and expensive trinkets from God knows where. I sat on a bar stool and watched her make the bowl. Her moves had gone from graceful to inept just as she had gone from goddess to **** in my mind. She set the hookah on the bar and inhaled. Then it was my turn. It went on like that for five minutes or so as she looked me up and down. Every once in a while she would lick her lips or lean forward to expose even just a centimeter more of her ******* "So who's the new **** "Beg your pardon?" "You heard me," she spat. "My left or my right, depending on how many notes I've taken that day." "Ha ha, very funny. How long's that been the case?" "A week or two. Maybe three," I quip. "Restless yet?" "That's all I've ever been." Ashley was never tactful. She showed her hand too fast, but she bet so little it made no difference. She was also never virginal. People often romanticize their first time with stories of secret escapes or innocent awkwardness. I was never like that and Ashley appreciated the monstrous control and possessiveness I wrapped around my ***** I took what I wanted, she told me. She liked that, I guess. She knew a couople girls I had been with-- they'd shared their "stories" with her. Stories of how I'd ripped the innocence from them, the thrill, the wall slamming, screaming, cursing, the painful entrance, strength, weakness, and finally the out-of-breath finish where I left them feeling like rag dolls. Or so I'm told. She liked that. Craved it, even. So, I let her have it.
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66
Or do I already know? I naively nourish these fervid feelings I hold. Moving slowly, in rhythm, matching your sway, Questionless is my admiration in every way. Ardently I coast on the energy waves Of your passions And dispassionate despondency. Waste the day together watching good TV; It's not wasted if it's with you. The never-ending riddle of learning how to love, And learning how to love the one you love, The one you think most of. The unfaltering encouragement of success, Filling in the blanks so the other won't stress. I'll sweep the floors when you can't anymore, Get us through the boring chores Of every day life. Those mundane motions for the future-- So much more to look forward to With the addition of you. Voices soften with the intimacy of quieter talk... And the sensuality of our skin. The carelessness and the giving in. The tears shed, yours and mine, Shared as "tiny dots on an endless timeline." The subtleties of selflessness, The subtleties of trying to change. The obsession over mistakes, Anxiety that keeps me awake. Heated fights and The addictive rush when we make up. The selfishness, greed and possessiveness build up. I am broken, Or I act as if I am so. I am broken, but there are sunflowers I wish to grow In the broken *** within you So that you may feel a little less broken too. If this is love, I wish someone could tell me. If this is love, why must it be so delicate, Yet so assiduously enduring? Continuous forgiveness And the things we let each other get away with; The "knowing better"s. All those firsts, all those places that were meant to be with you. Everything I would do To make you smile. How naturally I could laugh and feel at ease, How naturally you brightened a smile on me. How naturally, despite, we could become so miserable. How naturally, despite, I could love so unconditional. The wanting to just feel you there Till we were unaware of our despair. The frankness and the fall of our walls. The letting go. The folding up my heart and putting it away When I can accept It's not yet To be worn by you.
0
Jul 9, 2018
Jul 9, 2018 at 3:05 PM UTC
I wish someone could tell me what "love" is.
Or do I already know? I naively nourish these fervid feelings I hold. Moving slowly, in rhythm, matching your sway, Questionless is my admiration in every way. Ardently I coast on the energy waves Of your passions And dispassionate despondency. Waste the day together watching good TV; It's not wasted if it's with you. The never-ending riddle of learning how to love, And learning how to love the one you love, The one you think most of. The unfaltering encouragement of success, Filling in the blanks so the other won't stress. I'll sweep the floors when you can't anymore, Get us through the boring chores Of every day life. Those mundane motions for the future-- So much more to look forward to With the addition of you. Voices soften with the intimacy of quieter talk... And the sensuality of our skin. The carelessness and the giving in. The tears shed, yours and mine, Shared as "tiny dots on an endless timeline." The subtleties of selflessness, The subtleties of trying to change. The obsession over mistakes, Anxiety that keeps me awake. Heated fights and The addictive rush when we make up. The selfishness, greed and possessiveness build up. I am broken, Or I act as if I am so. I am broken, but there are sunflowers I wish to grow In the broken *** within you So that you may feel a little less broken too. If this is love, I wish someone could tell me. If this is love, why must it be so delicate, Yet so assiduously enduring? Continuous forgiveness And the things we let each other get away with; The "knowing better"s. All those firsts, all those places that were meant to be with you. Everything I would do To make you smile. How naturally I could laugh and feel at ease, How naturally you brightened a smile on me. How naturally, despite, we could become so miserable. How naturally, despite, I could love so unconditional. The wanting to just feel you there Till we were unaware of our despair. The frankness and the fall of our walls. The letting go. The folding up my heart and putting it away When I can accept It's not yet To be worn by you.
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58
I always thought women who follow a mans every word must be some sort of weak woman. Where is her own power? Where is her own thought and beliefs in this follow the leader deal. Why would anyone follow another like that? I wonder no more. I know. I have more power, not less. I follow everything he tells me to do for several reasons. The first is respect. I have the utmost respect for this man. I know that everything he does he does to keep me protected and safe. Therefore I listen word for word what he asks of me, what he TELLS me to do. When someone is so protective one can see it as ********** possessiveness or simply as love and protection. How one sees this is depending on what you believe. I believe his every more is for MY benefit. I know everything he does he does for me. I know he wants me happy, smiling and constantly touching. I do not resist. I do not fight this. It makes me VERY happy. I am protected and loved. I am the most safe I have ever felt. I am not a possession. I am most definitely not treated like one. I am cared for more now than I have ever been in more ways than I thought possible. I feel so very protected. I am HIS responsibility. He takes that as seriously as possible. With a huge smile no less.
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Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 12:37 PM UTC
Protection
Anger is weakness. Temper is weakness. I let it consume me for minutes Reach the haven For calmer thought. Acceptance Indifference Strength returns to me. What others do should not affect you. They can do as they please. Possessiveness got the better of me But in reality It doesn't matter All is well.
0
Jun 17, 2010
Jun 17, 2010 at 10:52 AM UTC
weakness
Sexually, the Scorpio man & Cancer woman makes one of the most amazing duo. The Water from both the signs mixes so well, that its serenity & soothing feel keeps nurturing their love. The Scorpio man’s love nature is more intense & yearning than that of most men & hers is more romantic & sensitive than that of most women. Both of them long for a certain degree of security in a relationship which they get from their emotional attachment & enhance with the purity of love making. Cancer female’s heart is almost always turned on by sensing peace & coziness she feels by being held in her Scorpio lover’s arms while he needs loyalty, that he can get in plenty from Cancer lady love. He enjoys it when her heart starts beating terribly fast during the act & her face getting so flush. Most times she wants so much to match his torturously delicious movements with her own, but she holds her emotions firmly. Actually she must let him know how much he drives her crazy & how much she is in love with him. As they become aware of each other’s unspoken needs, their physical mating can be a truly transcendental experience & their ****** union becomes a strange mixture of eroticism & purity. As this is always a very wonderful couple but nothing is actually perfect & to reach perfection some amount of sacrifice is always needed, they must first conquer together their most negative traits: Cancer woman’s baseless fears & possessiveness, Scorpio man’s burning jealousy & revenge compulsion & also their mutual financial caution. If these differences are passed by successfully there can be hardly any Scorpio-Cancer relationship that is ever broken. As both of them are outrageous in nature & tend to retreat into solitude when angry, to have a healthy relationship they should rather openly talk it over to find solutions. Otherwise, a very lovely relationship may end up abruptly, after which they invariably miss each other very much usually throughout their lives.
0
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 10:26 PM UTC
Water Signs 3
Sexually, the Scorpio man & Cancer woman makes one of the most amazing duo. The Water from both the signs mixes so well, that its serenity & soothing feel keeps nurturing their love. The Scorpio man’s love nature is more intense & yearning than that of most men & hers is more romantic & sensitive than that of most women. Both of them long for a certain degree of security in a relationship which they get from their emotional attachment & enhance with the purity of love making. Cancer female’s heart is almost always turned on by sensing peace & coziness she feels by being held in her Scorpio lover’s arms while he needs loyalty, that he can get in plenty from Cancer lady love. He enjoys it when her heart starts beating terribly fast during the act & her face getting so flush. Most times she wants so much to match his torturously delicious movements with her own, but she holds her emotions firmly. Actually she must let him know how much he drives her crazy & how much she is in love with him. As they become aware of each other’s unspoken needs, their physical mating can be a truly transcendental experience & their ****** union becomes a strange mixture of eroticism & purity. As this is always a very wonderful couple but nothing is actually perfect & to reach perfection some amount of sacrifice is always needed, they must first conquer together their most negative traits: Cancer woman’s baseless fears & possessiveness, Scorpio man’s burning jealousy & revenge compulsion & also their mutual financial caution. If these differences are passed by successfully there can be hardly any Scorpio-Cancer relationship that is ever broken. As both of them are outrageous in nature & tend to retreat into solitude when angry, to have a healthy relationship they should rather openly talk it over to find solutions. Otherwise, a very lovely relationship may end up abruptly, after which they invariably miss each other very much usually throughout their lives.
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1
My 1st relationship wasn't with the girl I loved or anyone special. I was young and dumb into the casual life style. This one night stand turned into a 13 month nightmare. I learned to love even though at the time I didn't love myself. My brothers death and a pervious romance had me sour and bitter. We dated even though it wasn't what I wanted she wanted it to be us but later she wanted me to be about her. I tried to end it on many occasions but she wouldn't take it's over them she made a suicide threat so I stuck around. I died inside started to shutdown. Her insecurity and possessiveness eventually took its toll. The summer rolled around the corner and we departed. I healed and needed to recharge my battery. I returned home this is a college relationship I might add. It was over but she managed to manipulate her way back. One last night together that made it officially over. I got accused of being with someone else. Turns out this girl has a summer fling and trying to play the guilt card. I'm not saying I won't ever date I just don't want to bother dating. Enjoy life and experience new. The best part of life is the story.
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Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 4:04 PM UTC
Broken chains
When the loss of a loved one causes you much grief and so you can’t for a while seem to find any relief, it’s very likely that you have been too long attached and possessiveness must now be in ways dispatched. _______________________
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Nov 25, 2023
Nov 25, 2023 at 9:49 AM UTC
Quatrain #424 - When the loss......
I could see plainly, that it was a gold embossed invitation to taste the struggle to escape from the ******* of marriage and grown up kids and years in a sanctuary of vows controlled by possessiveness and pain. Yes, I wanted to kiss you too but that would mean I would have to slip out of this armour of similar façades and run through all the same vows that turned pages in my throbbing head: infidelity this, infidelity that and: remember we have partners! Yet I was first to reach across these fragile explanations and swing my arms around your neck to draw your closer to my pounding heart and pulse. The desire broke every rule and shattered the 6th commandment into fragments of memory. Just this once our eyes closed and lips locked and we quietly left all our attachments and excuses at the doorstep of destiny and wondered what kind of chemistry breaks us free from all the things we swore should not happen but did happen. Next ? Author Notes No further explanations. © Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 3 days ago - See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11595922-Lipstick-by-Marshall-Gass#sthash.jdXzuyFs.dpuf
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Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 5:32 PM UTC
Lipstick
If loving your fragrance is bad.. Yes I am the worst girl ever..!! If locking your soul to mine is a sin.. Yes I am the cruelest sinner ever..!! If a chill runs down my throat on your name.. Yes I would love to shiver forever..!! If being busy in your thoughts is sitting idle.. yes I would love to be unemployed forever..!! If looking at the cutest face forever is tiring.. Yes I would love my eyes being tired forever..!! If holding your hand forever is possessiveness.. Yes I would love to be called an adhesive forever..!! If I could protect you from the eyes of others.. Yes I would hide you in my ***** forever..!! If you could allow me to be in you.. YES I WOULD DISAPPEAR FROM THE WORLD..FOREVER!!!
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Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 12:53 PM UTC
Forever???
Each past fortifying moment tends to be concluded by a bitter fall. Once I awoke from my empty dreams. Standing there, you were in the distance with your will to pervade all areas of my life. as I dwelled, you descended yourself close to my reach as I clasped at only the amount of which I could apprehend. I was fully aware of your strong inclinations. Believe I wanted nothing more than to emulate every touch your heart felt. But mine was so incapable of saturation. My tender attraction to torment fastened me in my chair of possessiveness I was so faithful to. My dawdling from confusion was so misgiving until everything was falsely led. Your hostile anguish I comprehend now so clearly. So time faded what was unwanted and I have this memory relaying a message I am too aware of now to discount. Days are just numbers and distance can dispose in the past. And it’s this second chance I can’t do without. And this devotion I’ve recovered from the deep depths that’s been with me all along: My subconscious hope was the epitome of you.
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Oct 23, 2009
Oct 23, 2009 at 11:14 AM UTC
just emit forever
Time brought the joyride to a halt, Incompatibility being her prevailing issue, She was my first love. Even though I tried, It all ripped apart, Tearing in front of my eyes! I escaped my shadow, Of guilt and loneliness, By inviting her to curse me. She said, "You'll repent this," I replied, "Who's gonna care about it," She started, "You may take it lightly, but one day you're gonna fall off the hill -" I interjected, "I'm just not gonna take it baby - chill!" She smiled weakly, "I know that you would love again," I said, "No doubt about it, the world is cuter," She uttered her curse, "But you won't ever be satisfied!" I invited few more curses, "Go on, come on - continue your curses!" She went on, "You'd pay for my tears with your blood!" I taunted, "Okay! More - just go on baby," She snarled, "You'll die feeling lonely in this whole wide world! The way I find myself lonely under your possessiveness, You too will feel unloved and unwanted." I jeered, "Whoa! That scares me to death!" She continued, "You just can't die so easily," I jeered, "Hey that's not like a curse, you can't curse so sweetly," She blasted to end it, "Just wait & pray for death to come early!" True she was, the witch, My life goes on like her curses, How true they were!
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Dec 31, 2023
Dec 31, 2023 at 7:28 AM UTC
When I Broke Up With My First Girlfriend
See her, skinny lassie - so aware, stood there at the counter. The eyes lifted from papers, hooded and guilty, leering under sunglasses. She knows nothing, thinks she's in charge. Bless her. Whatever's going to break her hasn't happened yet. Makes me shudder, the thought. The painful innocence. "Just a fruit smoothie, please!" she sparkles at the man. Thinks his approval is unloaded, worth seeking. No eyes on me. Glances fall off me. If I catch a look, I see it turn to embarrassment, pity or scorn. Firing blanks, guys. I'll take those over possessiveness, lust, crawling promises. Over saccharine strychnine strangler smiles, over violence, veiled as love. Your attention is toxic. Better show it as such. "Chips and cheese, please," I wheeze, and his sneer is a klaxon of cruel jokes he'll share with colleagues later. Those are the tiny victories of victimhood, as the twirling girl inside stays protected, unsuspected.
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Aug 29, 2016
Aug 29, 2016 at 12:34 PM UTC
Better than a Burka
Your possessiveness is just..... Taming me how to love you... Teaching me how much you love yourself... Preparing my mind to hate you... Please don't feel bad my love... Inch by inch you are .... Killing ME !!
0
May 16, 2016
May 16, 2016 at 1:52 PM UTC
Possessiveness
Most part love, possessiveness still infest, can't wait to reconstruct.
0
Dec 6, 2011
Dec 6, 2011 at 9:34 PM UTC
needed: a reconstruction in relationship
The **** does it really? The **** does it all mean? To caren’t oh so freely, To not aim to read in between. The **** is this monstrosity? The **** does this represent? This self-aware precocity, Diving and thriving in its own lament. Possessions stemmed from possessiveness, Losses that led to lenience, No ***** to give and not a **** to lose, Too many have come and went. The **** does it matter, truly? The **** should it matter to me? These thinking caps are on too tight, I’ll embrace this coldness cruelly. Not to say that I am so daft, This emulation of me is unflattering, I’ve come to love this newfound craft, The ***** become irrelevant when they stop mattering.
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Jan 9, 2024
Jan 9, 2024 at 12:48 AM UTC
The **** Does It Matter?
The silence of my room Loosing its peace Over the noisy rain call Shouting outside Deep forest behind Shakes off its dirt Dances with breeze, In fresh green trees Cold thoughts fall softly as raindrops Holding on to my tattered blanket of life I watch my memories and winter pass by The milky way in the night sky Lost its way Comes down in torrents of rain To ask me for one dance Clouds Took off the cloaks of my shadow Running arms wide open On the wings of love, I soar to distant stars While, in the puddles of rainwater My little ego fish, finds its greatness Buddha smiles, lotus pond waits To bring me back Mind exists in it's own world of passion Possessiveness and touch Fleshy wounds, senses dirt The power of the dusty path Is not in the eternal wait of life's traveler But in bringing the end of Karmic shell The lightness of being to be released One by one, pain stripped off My wanting, my needing, my attachment Slowly Buddha reached out to me Lying tattered on the path Revealing Invisible bundle of pure love and joy Covered in rags of past Buddha, is that really me? As I prepare to sleep In my cold lonely shell ___________________ ॐ नमः शिवाय Om Namah Shivaya
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Dec 25, 2010
Dec 25, 2010 at 11:35 AM UTC
Soul Dancing In The Rain
in the burning bed writhing in tears begging "love me....love me" -- the story is too old too weak -- the fleeting afternoon the stroll in the park kids play and we...? -- writhin in burning beds of jealousy and possessiveness turning into hate -- there is a meaning and a meaninlessness -- the song is true strength is here dance! sing!
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Oct 19, 2010
Oct 19, 2010 at 11:16 AM UTC
"strength"....true meaning
hate is the result of jealously guarded "love" (and lovers) jealousy comes alive in the isolated and the fearful to survive is to be gentle to survive is to be real -- hate often takes the form of a possessiveness that cripples and humiliates all who find it aimed at their heart so they run! RUN! RUN!! RUN!! be free of the love that is the disquised hate the disquised lonliness the disquised fear in those who forget they must fight for survival with undauntable gentleness -- we must be soul warriors or we shall simply join the pile of decayed and dying flesh everywhere
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Oct 19, 2010
Oct 19, 2010 at 11:03 AM UTC
the gentle are the real