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"psychopathy" poems
You know taking a bath when you're cold is bad for you yet you still do it. The cold will catch up to you once you're out. Unless you boil yourself to the point where you can't stand the bath water and the cold is all you crave. Liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar. You know this anger harbouring will get you sick and at some point something will have to break. Yet you deny it and cry in surprise once you realise how ****** up your mind can get. Liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar. You know that you not functioning without your headphones on the street is a mental deficit and you're scared of being alone. Yet whenever you say you'll go out without your headphones you can't help but connect them again to your phone. Liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar. You know the silencing glare and the subtly swallowed hate wont be enough to fix them or you yet you take no action and only speak when the times are worst causing everything to crack up again in your dysfunctional household. Liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar. No amount of self diagnosis with narcissism, psychosis, psychopathy or plain depression will ever soothe your need of validation. So why bother. Liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar. Your body's stiff, you know the causes. Yet you try to dance, sing move as much as you can. Idiotic sensual slow killing. You know you're only making it worse so why keep on hurting? Liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar. Your blood vessels bursting under your jeans, your veins dying to pop. Yet you still walk. There's something not quite right with you. Liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar Your ribs cracking under the spring sun, your toes bleeding from that last run when will you understand you're marked for death when will you be done? Liar liat liar liar liar liar liar liar liar. You promised you'll shave your arms, start up another life yet you're still here. ******* around. You're nothing but a Liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar.
0
Mar 2, 2021
Mar 2, 2021 at 3:57 PM UTC
2nd of March, still, spring won't eat me up
You know taking a bath when you're cold is bad for you yet you still do it. The cold will catch up to you once you're out. Unless you boil yourself to the point where you can't stand the bath water and the cold is all you crave. Liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar. You know this anger harbouring will get you sick and at some point something will have to break. Yet you deny it and cry in surprise once you realise how ****** up your mind can get. Liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar. You know that you not functioning without your headphones on the street is a mental deficit and you're scared of being alone. Yet whenever you say you'll go out without your headphones you can't help but connect them again to your phone. Liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar. You know the silencing glare and the subtly swallowed hate wont be enough to fix them or you yet you take no action and only speak when the times are worst causing everything to crack up again in your dysfunctional household. Liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar. No amount of self diagnosis with narcissism, psychosis, psychopathy or plain depression will ever soothe your need of validation. So why bother. Liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar. Your body's stiff, you know the causes. Yet you try to dance, sing move as much as you can. Idiotic sensual slow killing. You know you're only making it worse so why keep on hurting? Liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar. Your blood vessels bursting under your jeans, your veins dying to pop. Yet you still walk. There's something not quite right with you. Liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar Your ribs cracking under the spring sun, your toes bleeding from that last run when will you understand you're marked for death when will you be done? Liar liat liar liar liar liar liar liar liar. You promised you'll shave your arms, start up another life yet you're still here. ******* around. You're nothing but a Liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar liar.
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27
mouthwatering anxiety disorder dishes of psychopathy Bulimia and ADHD sparkle reach in a hand take a few and a few bottles of ritalin and prozac too you will love it
0
Nov 11, 2012
Nov 11, 2012 at 12:53 AM UTC
disorder
She's no Fragile ******* Flower She'll plant Seeds in sanity And grow Through Telepathic Psychopathy Passed the past too rough for diamonds What didn't **** her made her outpower her ego And she sent her soul To cocktease my cognitive construct in haunting hallucinations The girl next door frantically feeling me up via shared consciousness She suppressed this obsession So she's always locked in my mind like a ***** secret She holds the key like a cuckold constricting roots to hold me down to Earth with no release She's a wild ******* flower
0
Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 11:27 PM UTC
Telepathic Psychopathy
Forensic psychology is not an exact science, despite the lofty assertions of those who are deemed to have expertise in the face of non-empathic presumption. Please, do not dismiss the wisdom of those who are seasoned in the metaphorical school of life. It is far too expensive, even though there is an apparent and mutual understanding between those on each side of the great divide. Dazzling suits and coherent reports do not adequately represent intricate diversities in the docks of criminality where the laughter of the prosecution echoes throughout the beams of formality. Therefore, sociopathy and psychopathy remain to be inadequately defined.
0
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 12:58 AM UTC
Serial Uncertainty
What's the meaning to begin And continue till the end The answers are hidden in my fading soul. They are staring right at me Why won't anyone believe? As I'm looking out my window, They wave goodbye. Everything is said and done, Everyone as had their fun, Time to make my exit from this fairytale. My departure was foreseen From the very beginning, Living life live of full sanity, goodbye. Hello me, It's nice to meet you, Haven't I seen you somewhere before? It said: "Goodbye, my dear sweetheart, It was so nice to meet you, Oh my, we haven't talked in quite a while!" Insanity, The weight of the air is torture. Psychopathy, Breathing's not natural anymore Insanity, The illusion of ignorance Captivity, Forever doing a puppet's dance. Insanity, It's like i'm floating on air Psychopathy, Live life with too many cares. Insanity, These illusion never end. Captivity, Behind bars that never bend. The corruption goes on... Sanity... Light is peeking through the darkness, Purity... Don't feel anymore of the stress. Sanity... It's already fading away... Cruelty... DARKNESS GOT A HOLD OF ME!!!
0
Jan 15, 2018
Jan 15, 2018 at 6:22 PM UTC
Insanity
*concerning the last lines... all we can do with the Cartesian Libra is add adjectives to it, which is contrary to what the existentialists did by simply modifying a furthered abstraction of the compounds 'i think' and 'i am', via the inverted comma(s), otherwise known as dittoing, sic, prior said, or re-, true to the oddity; a king will continue to question his position / being a king by not thinking about it, hence his uninhibited delusions, hereditary, very much genetic; and hence someone who precursors his being with much concern for thinking, the inhibited delusion, self-serving - both are adjective expansions of the Cartesian Libra, just added qualities, given both are facts requiring a slab of marble to look like Rodin's kiss - or approximate, with therefore being the chisel, and so dependent the end product, indeed a slab of marble at first, but not necessarily Rodin's kiss at the end - perhaps a Notre Dame gargoyle...* i am what i think, that's what i came up with after reading some of the bio sketches - even though the truth is that i am what i own - thinking is the part that comes last, if i own a bed and a roof over my head, i end up i thinking about being homeless - but sometimes you do find the ones that are inclined to be what they think, the extremes we call them - supreme anti-materialists, it's not satisfying to own a house or a phone, more is required, something tinged with transcendental counters - they "own" a home but rather not live in it, already the looming fairy of heaven tells them of an unnatural life expectancy - some might say thinking a form of uninhibited delusion sketches, like i'd be a venture capitalists taking a weekend away in Hawaii while some ridiculousness of poverty in India was to blame for my jet streams and carbon footprints - they keep the inhibited delusional in cages without a chance to sketch - because the uninhibited delusional have all the freedoms that Versailles could allow - or... uninhibited delusions of non-thought, inherited, hereditary, versus inhibited delusions of thought, mutated, self-invented... this could very well be a "magic" square with two further variations, i.e. uninhibited delusions of thought (psychopathy) inhibited delusions of non-thought (coma?
0
Jun 19, 2016
Jun 19, 2016 at 10:11 AM UTC
the Cartesian Libra
*concerning the last lines... all we can do with the Cartesian Libra is add adjectives to it, which is contrary to what the existentialists did by simply modifying a furthered abstraction of the compounds 'i think' and 'i am', via the inverted comma(s), otherwise known as dittoing, sic, prior said, or re-, true to the oddity; a king will continue to question his position / being a king by not thinking about it, hence his uninhibited delusions, hereditary, very much genetic; and hence someone who precursors his being with much concern for thinking, the inhibited delusion, self-serving - both are adjective expansions of the Cartesian Libra, just added qualities, given both are facts requiring a slab of marble to look like Rodin's kiss - or approximate, with therefore being the chisel, and so dependent the end product, indeed a slab of marble at first, but not necessarily Rodin's kiss at the end - perhaps a Notre Dame gargoyle...* i am what i think, that's what i came up with after reading some of the bio sketches - even though the truth is that i am what i own - thinking is the part that comes last, if i own a bed and a roof over my head, i end up i thinking about being homeless - but sometimes you do find the ones that are inclined to be what they think, the extremes we call them - supreme anti-materialists, it's not satisfying to own a house or a phone, more is required, something tinged with transcendental counters - they "own" a home but rather not live in it, already the looming fairy of heaven tells them of an unnatural life expectancy - some might say thinking a form of uninhibited delusion sketches, like i'd be a venture capitalists taking a weekend away in Hawaii while some ridiculousness of poverty in India was to blame for my jet streams and carbon footprints - they keep the inhibited delusional in cages without a chance to sketch - because the uninhibited delusional have all the freedoms that Versailles could allow - or... uninhibited delusions of non-thought, inherited, hereditary, versus inhibited delusions of thought, mutated, self-invented... this could very well be a "magic" square with two further variations, i.e. uninhibited delusions of thought (psychopathy) inhibited delusions of non-thought (coma?
Continue reading...
39
Killer since childhood, wicked since birth An alien in my own skin Prisoner kept in a filthy cage Rotting in a cell within But then salvation came at last In a suit of sentient slime Devastation like a nuclear blast And now it is my time Demon God... to me you belong I am strong... with the power of Chthon.... Don't go making deals with demons If you're unprepared to pay The Price is always human life... With no hope of escape Dont you see? Nobody can trick me You should have just stayed away cuz Now you're toying with the power of hell And The Devil himself wants to play Drunk on power and high on life, as the prophecy foretold Your psychopathy and mine entwined With the might of the Darkhold Set off on a gruesome course In blood I'll find my fame The world will know through use of force That Carnage is my name **** of the earth and bane of the stars Society made me decay behind bars Until, what dark sorcery be this? Symbiotic Synthesis Savior of the Reptile Cult Every fight is a full-scale assault Black Magic Grimoire, Messiah of War I am the reaper of souls
0
Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 4:18 PM UTC
The Red Slayer
Nothing is but an ideology Created within the midst of terminology Contemplated inside the realm of human sociology Excessive thought creates a disease of unknown etiology Without nothing, the purpose of something lacks possibly Fathoming such perceives speculations of oddities How can one measure that lacking of qualities and incomplete of quantity? Theorization subconsciously Rationalizing improbably On the brink of psychopathy Is it really all but a prophecy? Distorting my mind in such ferocity? Encompassing dimension of philosophy Does the term nothing orbit a sense of despondency? Interpreting into a form of commodity But how can I construe what nothing is, I mean quite honestly?
0
Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 8:17 PM UTC
Thoughts on Nothing
I'm 'k... ling me ever so slowly but surely, I'm 'k... ling me and now one's there to stop me. I'm dying, no one's crying for This dead body to be I lost reasons for living They are blind, they cannot see ...Just 'k... ling me, Just 'k... ling me... Never thought I'd be my own Undertaker Never knew in me there is an UnMaker! Still waiting for things to get better But it seems like forever... Dark Dreaming Dexter, a book by Jeff Lindsay Made me realize my closeness to insanity Not allowed to **** But I just will... ...if you hatch me never enough entropy welcome insanity hey there, psychopathy be free numerous noices how much? infinity... ...punish me for their vices they ignored all my voices make me pay for their crimes... I'D BE DEAD RIGHT NOW, BUT I JUST CAN'T SEEM TO FIND THE TIME
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Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 4:02 PM UTC
I'm 'K... (ling Me)
We are bound by gluttonous and crimson ties of political psychopathy where elected white-collar gangsters exercise their wrath in order to compel the masses towards a lustful calamity at the price of slothful convenience. Absolute power is characterised by greed, and it corrupts to an absolute degree of nihilistic rhapsody. Whatever happened to our prideful intelligence? Lest we forget: the analysis of intimacy is enviable, as she is forfeited in the name of capital vice.
0
Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 10:44 PM UTC
Deadly Sins of Intellectualism
The exact representation of deception is likened to a delusional cognition which tunnels its way through craggy mountain ecosystems of the prefrontal cortex. The impairment of your executive functioning is evident, oh grandiose master of self-aggrandisement. It is now 04.20hrs in the Britannic pastures where desert storms are a figment of extravagant wishes to be recognised. Although it is charmingly magical to harken to your lunacy, it is mercenary of the battalions to fathom the pathology of your blatant insignificance within the universe of vain imaginations. Hereford is the base of winning, if you are brazen enough to engage with the feat. Selah, my psychotic expression of wishful psychopathy. One more thing: please check your spelling.
0
Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 10:34 PM UTC
A Response to the Presumed Perpetrator
In a winding, twisted fate, The Brothel, I’ve tried to Escape, The sickening sounds of lips being ****** The horrid sounds of those being ****** The slaps of flesh o’er again, My mind, I cannot now defend, I hate every minute, every tick, This endless clock makes me sick, I dream of sleep that won’t ever come, I dream of the day I can run, Escape, Escape, Escape, I’ll carve it in myself, it should be my name, I’ve been mislead, indeed, I’ve been stolen, But these shallow romances so repulsively sodden, Have left thoughts so in mind forsaken, Of each *** and race, lifelessly forbidden The thought of leaving, This **** hotel is quite deceiving, I think of how it became Synonymous in its name, With “love" and a quenched thirst Of our lust and ****** rebirth, For this menagerie of psychopathy Is the disease among society, Eyes that I no longer look into as I speak Gaze into mine as they endeavor to seek My soul, laughable, they will not find, To their credit, it’s long since died, This wretched place holds me with no interest, And of how I came about, to be honest I’ve no recollection. No recognition Of anything here, nothing is alive, All that come, just for pleasure strive, Empty inside and dying within, I must Escape this place of boundless ruin.
0
Jul 23, 2013
Jul 23, 2013 at 12:37 AM UTC
The Brothel.
To lie To cheat To steal All to get what I want Sounds like psychopathy and Narcissism put together I care about others But more about my own goals Good thing i have none
0
Jan 21, 2019
Jan 21, 2019 at 7:08 PM UTC
Machiavellianism
I confused loved with love and now- Ten thousand miles away I don't care I just don't care. Psychopathy is cute anyway.
0
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 11:58 AM UTC
Cute but ******
How is it possible that Just a few months ago We'd been talking about this coming day And all the crazy things we were going to do? How is it possible that Just a few months ago You were all still here and We could go on for hours and hours? How is it possible that Just a few months ago I didn't feel this lonely? In the library, Or in the forest, Or in the mountains, Or by the lake, Or even just crossing over the pit to visit the minors. We could've been running, Or just leaning by the piano in the music room, Or sitting on a stone listening to you go On and on and on about psychopathy and your Amusing experiments. We would've been worrying about this day Together Figuring out how everything would go, And you'd be screaming at Frank and Lucas would be repeating his speech three times in a row. Mike would be sitting at the side wondering what was going on, Hoobler would be sleeping, snoring and drooling, Mal would be screaming his head off, The Twins would be silently listening but never giving their comments as always. And you would be going on forever. But you aren't.
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Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 8:30 AM UTC
Just a few months ago
How is it possible that Just a few months ago We'd been talking about this coming day And all the crazy things we were going to do? How is it possible that Just a few months ago You were all still here and We could go on for hours and hours? How is it possible that Just a few months ago I didn't feel this lonely? In the library, Or in the forest, Or in the mountains, Or by the lake, Or even just crossing over the pit to visit the minors. We could've been running, Or just leaning by the piano in the music room, Or sitting on a stone listening to you go On and on and on about psychopathy and your Amusing experiments. We would've been worrying about this day Together Figuring out how everything would go, And you'd be screaming at Frank and Lucas would be repeating his speech three times in a row. Mike would be sitting at the side wondering what was going on, Hoobler would be sleeping, snoring and drooling, Mal would be screaming his head off, The Twins would be silently listening but never giving their comments as always. And you would be going on forever. But you aren't.
0
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 8:30 AM UTC
Just a few months ago
The gates of aristocratic chaos swing wide open amidst our political order of denied chaos. Can you feel the depths of this political vortex where time clenches her muscles in order to enunciate the conflict? Those who lay claim to portrayed originality are steeped in the hypocritical depths of duplicity where classical music reverberates across cosmic explanations of unspoken revelation. Unspeakable are the criminalities of those who don mere veils of propaganda, as they are neither superior nor dissimilar to maximum security psychopathy. Listen, my friend, to the frequency of our radio identification. The New World Order is the unseen pulse of the progressive world, where seemingly primitive customs are dismissed in the name of mass deception. Let us take chances of revolutionary discovery and stand in unity; otherwise we shall fall in this calamity of obscene consumerism.
0
Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 10:33 PM UTC
Suave Passages
I have liaised with ancient phantoms that have sprinkled seeds of magical faculties, deep within the borderline of the soul. I am a mere passenger - but we are all susceptible to enlightened impressions which resemble the sound of an empty can, as it is blown up a cobbled street by Westerly winds. So, my ancient and philanthropic partner, it is important that you realise that the legitimacy of our captivations is suspended in an atmosphere of interrogatory purgatory. However, let us forever acknowledge that our beloved spectres bear witness to the true nature of psychopathy. Are you able to balance the moonlight silhouettes on your tightrope of materialistic nirvana?
0
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 9:50 PM UTC
Unfulfilled Vessels
A heated, serrated blade Drives deep beneath my skin Boiling my blood Tearing my flesh Smashing my bones I stand without feet While I smash without hands Demons drive my soul to Hell Where I bask in their glow of hatred I drive them away with my smirk Do not cross me You know nothing of my potential Crazed psychopathy is euphemistic To the destruction of my wrath Leaving nothing untouched by my flame
0
Dec 29, 2012
Dec 29, 2012 at 3:06 AM UTC
Anger
Sadism joined with narcissim psychopathy and Machiavellianism. This is the makeup of the TROLL. They are not just a nuisance. They can latch onto innocents and try to corrupt them in startlingly inhumane ways. Look up the personality profile of the internet troll. THEY ARE HORRIBLE PEOPLE. If you encounter one my advice to you is to ignore and block it. Be vigilant as it may start a new account and try still further harassment. Be aware of key words, phrases and ideas your troll has played with before. He/she/it will ALWAYS want to let you know somehow that it is BACK. Look up the traits of a troll. If you see an individual taunting others for no reason it may be a troll. Most of all TRUST YOUR SPIRITUAL EYES. Your gut. If you even have a suspicion don't engage. EVEN IF IT POSTS A WRITE ABOUT YOU, DON'T READ IT. DON'T READ OR COMMENT IT'S WRITES ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE. If it doesn't get narcissistic "sample" it will move on. Trolls like to "play dumb". Come off as mentally challenged or very young people. Or as the very devil HIMSELF. They have delusional ideas of grandeur so will often use Lucifer or God in their poet names. This has been my experience anyway. I am being stalked by one currently. This is a message to him/her/it: I AM IGNORING AND BLOCKING YOU. I KNOW YOUR TRICKS AND YOU CAN'T FOOL ME. GOODBYE. PLEASE BE AWARE AND VIGILANT POETFRIENDS. GOD BLESS YOU! ♡ Catherine
0
Jul 3, 2015
Jul 3, 2015 at 2:46 AM UTC
The Dark Tetrad (not a poem)
The darkness behind our eyes Malice within our souls The rebellion our menace The prison we locked ourselves in A cage we built to trap our wild hearts Treading the fine line between Normalcy and psychopathy Vengeance, violence and brutality All that we've masked in our grace Hiding beneath our placid demeanor Gentle breaths tender caresses Soft lips whispering sweet nothings Our words carefully scripted Depicting a picture of purity and perfection False sincerity reaching out to others Only to burn all that we lay our hands upon Malingering through days Sugar laced actions and innocent smiles Life is but a masquerade As we dance or days away
0
Mar 4, 2018
Mar 4, 2018 at 12:21 AM UTC
Leila
We All hAve them Some Are smAll and meAn nothing if discovered Others if espied will either destroy yourself or those close to you For some lying is their only choice And their lies go to their grAve with themselves Not everyone can lie with eAse And others Are put in situations where lying becomes second nAture They may not wAnt to lie   But lying is their only choice Like they sAy two can only keep A secret if one of them is deAd You may thing your secret is safe But As they sAy trust no one And keep your friends close but your enemies closer And never trust Anyone but yourself BecAuse you know what you're capAble of And you may not know truly whAt others are capable of   Trust no one but yourself BecAuse who do we have to turn to when All falls BecAuse our lies eat us up on the inside They destroy us and everyone we cAre about They can turn even the sAnest person into an insaAe psychopAthy It slices through people’s heArts and can come out of nowhere and stab you in the back Lying is a game We chose to play the game everyday To protect ourselves and those who we love Some lies we keep are not even ours to keep And those are the ones that ear us alive on the inside Puppeteers control us like puppets because of the lies we have told And in the game of lying the only way to win is to be a good girl and have no lies But even good girls lie
0
Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 12:20 AM UTC
Lying is A GAme