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Pieces of me
thrown away
like trash
Never consulted
Never asked
The direct result
of another’s conviction
or more commonly seen
consequences
from blind ambition

Paranoid
The fix is in
But no invitation
for me,
former me
or forever me
and all of my imitations
beset by my
limitations

Forwardly I lean
step in between
lines upon lines
hidden;
can’t be seen
Falling ill
Now trapped
by its machine
And from my vein;
My blood I spill

A still surface
with sticky sheen
amber tones
from which
I glean
a reason
Thrilled
What it might mean
A hunger
that
can not be filled

Nothing but lies
giving me chills
A shell
with values
not instilled
Instead
it’s dread
Their words
I’m fed
"Nutrients"
to fill my head

My outer skin
Its layer
thin
Not to attacks
No single act
or prayer
could patch
and fill it in
A hole
that’s black
is my first sin

A game
in which
no way to win
and no ending
once it
begins
With opened eyes
commence to see
The dorsal fins
surrounding me

Head starts
to spin
What could have been?
It doesn't matter
in the end
because
there's nothing
here for me
A demon-like reality

Where what you seek
Placed at your feet
The icing; sweet
Choices; not three
Have cake or eat
One choice not two
But want to eat
and have it too

All efforts
to retrieve the treat;
An outcome that
ends in defeat
A princess swept
off of her feat
But this feature
princess;
a creature
Spirit of
a soulless seeker

Deceitful speaker
Flames;
he’ll eat ya
Offers pain
Can’t heal;
life drained
Then reaching out
to use
life-line
but with each ring
hope further wanes

An answered call
done just in time
The chills
running all down my spine
Stand tall
just like Douglas-fir pine
With racing thoughts
filling my mind
I will be saved
Free from it all
God must exist
No time to stall
In battle
warriors
may fall
but no man's ever left behind

Only to find
With said spent dime
A dynamite kind of answer
-
A type
that might
cause strife
Can't plan for
Needed answer
Plight
like cancer
New chance to live
Worldly romancer
On planet Earth
A tiny dancer

A romantic thought
to think
fight fought
Instead a sinking ship
just dropped
This life?
If could
an ‘OUT’
would opt
No more
can take
Just make
it stop
Written: April 17, 2018

All rights reserved.
Heidi Franke Aug 2018
Head can now explode
But my hair rises black
Higher than this
Feeling inside like
I am,
         Screaming
         the sound could send waves
In new directions.  
Capture or let go...
They both make me feel
          Insane
Unable to do anything else
The roar is paralyzing me
Get me into the black hole
       already
I need the other side
Rage-Light, flashing
      You would be blind by now
But I see too much
       Scratching out your eyes.
This one written about the chaos felt inside when trying to help a mentally ill loved one who still can not see and the broken, broken system for treating our seriously mentally ill in America.
Ciara Dec 2013
Do you ever just have that deep, burning anger
that silences everything around you,
and you can feel it in your bones?

Do you ever want nothing more than to brutally ****** someone,
just swinging at them, losing all control.
That intense, unhealthy, murderous anger,
that no one can explain.

Everyone calls you crazy,
but you're just
*******
angry.

You just get so angry,
so full of burning rage,
that you don't have anything else to do
but
take it out on yourself.
Nobody Sep 2017
Your suffering is always greater than mine,
you claim your fears are bigger.
Whine your feelings are better than mine,
insist my feelings are simpler.

Try to laugh my feats away like a joke,
but my will is more forward than yours.
Now don’t expect any warmth from me,
my spirit won’t be ignored.

You think you can quiet my defiance,
but I'm used to standing alone;
still these ego trips never get old,
they only harden my resolve.

So you timidly try and silence me,
then make excuses to escape.
‘Cause your wits won't handle me long,
I’m the one you can’t sedate.
Nobody Nov 2018
Remember how he shred every inch of your soul?
Swallowing your screams while he spoiled every hole.  
Piercing hard thru your flesh till there was blood everywhere,
brutally claiming your body, year after year.  

He took what he wanted, you were never safe.
All that theft from him, you shouldn’t of had to take.  
And whenever there was hope you might get away,  
he would find you, and defile you, the entire day.

He’d blind you and violate you dark into the night,
every breath and smile has hurt your whole life.  
He wants all of you and will never say goodbye,
he beat you ****** till you gave up the fight.  

Ripping you apart as tears poured out of your eyes,
pounding you rapidly while ignoring your cries.
         Forced to take his abuse, thinking you’d never get away,
daddy chained you to the bed, so you had to stay.
Umi Apr 2018
Whereabout of the heart, where might it be ?
When fury is a feeling which engages your senses, your mind and your soul in a raging outburst of negativity expressed in adrenaline,
Everything seems to be one sided, a loop which only fuels your anger with thoughts of unpleasant, disturbing annoyances, making it harder
Harder to resist, until alike a super nova, you explode in a viscious rampage with knows no escape, so, where is the heart ? Where is it?
A tantrum might be encouraged to grow in size if it's revenge you seek, desire, want to live for to make it expire, with violent passion,
Mercy or compassion, forgiveness and simpathy may be forgotten, within the depths of your burning soul, lit ablaze solely by hatred,
You may lose your mind, oh beauty of a living existence, becoming alike a lily of murderous intent, spiteful, yet elegant and wonderful,
A shivering star, ready to take its opponent down with itself while destroying what used to be so precious, unique and simply sweet,
Blemishing the unconscious without thinking of patience or the chance to calm this nuclear meltdown, unfolding in tragedy for us,
The pure light of your praying palms might help in this regard,
Because his remembrance is what makes furious hearts become calm.

~ Umi
melinoe immortal Jul 2017
Disappointment transformed into rage.
Rage transformed into tears
liquid forms of despair.
Body excreting pain
a failing healing process
acute or chronic series
of mourning events.


The soul full of nociceptors
soldiers of misfortune
firing against the invinsible enemy.

The wounds open, refusing to heal.
The years of not understanding,
misunderstandings, confusion, denial
and self-loathing.


Time is running out in her mind.
cait-cait Jul 2018
i hate you,
i think, as you try to shoot me to death.

standing above me with a gun in my face

you feel
rage like undissolved sugar in
warm milk -
and
there’s blood on the floor and
then there’s me
,
                          
                          dying and almost dead,
but
you left my eyes open ,
and i know
you forgot the ****** weapon:

so i’m going to take it with me.

one day ,

i’m going to heal ,
and i’m going to remember —

you took my gun ,
took all my bullets
                                too .

and i still won’t ever shoot back.
im actually in japan right now! Having the time of my life *****!! Staying in a suburb of Tokyo with my previous host family doing mundane stuff... it’s great! This poem is inspired by what my friend said to me after I sent her a happy pic of me... basically told me I looked out of place and was wrong for enjoying myself. It made me feel terrible and like ****. Anyways long story but something happened and she left our group chat and I didn’t notice!! But now she joined again and won’t tell me why she left and I think it’s because she knows she ****** up. Some people’s punishments are just being themselves. Sorry for the long description. Happy summer everyone!!
Madeline Harper Aug 2018
Faultless lines of an abject realm
Compose, ignite and overwhelm
My soul coarsely brined at the helm
Where devils dance and I am free-

If I am to lie at shallow breath
Sharper still, to a dull smoke of ****
Forsake, adjourn my rage in my death!
And heaven’s halt by false decree-

I know an ocean’s rage is a fire so rare
That these dreams stifle me only a prayer
An empty trespass of the ocean still flares
This realm: a door, my mind: a key-

There is no such soul as the sea
Where devils dance and I am free
And heaven’s halt by false decree
This realm: a door, my mind: a key
And the ocean’s rage as I flee-
Please let me know your thoughts and insight! I’ve been having repitive dreams and I’m writing to understand what I’ve been feeling through this constant dream setting.
Umi Mar 2018
Standing on the edge to a sea of pure lunacy this lily blooms,
Her scars, she wishes them not to fade but to shed more blood,
Corrupted by the world around her, which took what she held dear, The only wish to seek revenge she blooms while sympathising with fury and hatred thicker than the spreading of the darkness of night,
A murderous intent, likely energetic enough to break through the ground to get what her desires tell her she needs so dearly,
Getting rid of everything, the love within her hurting chest, so she'd eventually awaken as this distorted image of what was once pure,
Her enemies shall try to escape while observing their dying moments,
Laughing at them whilst watching how they are ruined in seconds,
Throbbing in the dark, the figure of hatred wriggles in moonlight,
Lonely the soul resented by life, keeps up her riot for once more,
In bloodlust and vengence for her own reflection cast on the water,
Deep within her, a crying, broken, yet flickering light calls for help,
If forgiveness could be served, her wounds would heal and she would be able to be herself again, free without any grief or sorrow,
Maybe then, she will even be able to feel love again.


~ Umi
Inday Mar 15
She instantly wakes up with a shock feeling the blood boil from her head down to her toes; its the sound of that door.

The repetitive sound of that door slamming is a reminder of the poison in her life who seamlessly seeps into her heart continuing to infuse her mind with hate.

That door is used for a swinging entrance into her soul leaving it with touches of darkness until she simply can't understand how to love another person; how to empathize with another's time of distress. She loses touch, suffering to understand what love is.

The life who uses that door brought her into this world and smothers their existence with cold truths, lies, neglect, and stories of their past; inflicting damaging images and thoughts that cannot be unheard.

She's trying to persevere, but they persist to acknowledge their unreceptive response to her cry's for help, it destroys her light; leading her down the path where the poison starts to consume all her thoughts and distorts her rights to express herself with the constant feeling of never being heard.

You built darkness in her, and every layer effects even the smallest of challenges in life but you left her with a flame that continues to burn.
Umi Mar 2018
Dear life, what is it that makes you take on a journey which always leads towards an unavoidable, devestating yet resenting death ?
Since I cannot understand it fully I wander upon this world without finding any clear answers to satisfy the curiousity my heart bears.
In the realm of dreams I find rest, as my mind engages into this illusion and frees me from this reality for as long as my body pleases.
Awakened by loitering darkness, these questions are repeating themselves on a path of recurrance, without decreasing in strengh.
As my breath dies while feeling the agony, flames of hatred are seeping through my fragile, delicate existence, giving energy.
Rumbling, boiling in sadness I tell myself that anyone's forgiveness is not neccesary, losing control over this riot of pure fury without heart.
Looking back a thousand times, it remains as my very best choice.
Letting these emotions race, rage and rampage uncontrollably
Whilst losing ones self within a lunatic laughter to release pressure
I cannot stop these tears, pitying the past long gone rolling down my cheeks, moistening the very soil I am growing on, as a pure lily
Until the moment comes in which my body exhausts itself and allows me to enter the world of dreams, where despair fades into happiness.
Until the sun rises once again

~ Umi
Keiji Apr 2014
Foggy, lighting and bellowing screams


my fist shoot through glass shoving through flesh scraping against tendon tainting the walls a new ruby coating, when it drys like granet
red on white statin
precious porcelain on ebony asphalt
the sound
crystal symbols being slapped together
or maybe cherubs screaming
the air coats my tongue my mouth my lo=unngs like cooper, perturbation and rapture
this storm

I get lost in it , until the rain comes and
washes the blood and dirt from my face it stings

There is fear and helplessness
something old I wrote
The Thing that shall possess,
The Thing that shall possess,
The Thing that shall possess,

ANGER!

"You're my possession."

The Thing that shall possess,
The Thing that shall possess,
The Thing that shall possess,

ANGER!

"You're my possession."

The Thing that shall possess,
The Thing that shall possess,
The Thing that shall possess,

ANGER!

"You're My Possession!"
Kaith GS Dec 2017
It’s not a surprise.
It’s terrible but
it’s not a surprise.
Shooting, screaming, scattering, shattering,
it’s not a surprise.
I imagine but don’t understand.
White person mental illness,
illness…
Illness,
it’s called.
He was a poor, lonely, old man whose dog just died,
so he decided
to shoot up a crowd,
and **** and hurt hundreds of people.
Because of his illness.
But just listen.
Listen.
Listen:
you’re calling him ill but he’s really just mad.
There is no kindness in him if he can go **** all those people
and not even blink.
He may have offered you a handkerchief
when you were crying,
but then he goes off and kills,
and kills,
and kills,
and the kindness in him is warped, destroyed -
lost
the second he decides to
shoot,
shoot,
shoot.
Terrorists we fear -
walking down the street with a burqa draped over.
Terrorists we fear -
flying as second class citizens because of our terror.
Terrorists we fear -
speaking in a language we don’t understand.
They’re not the terrorists we should fear.
If the white terrorist is ill, then the US is plagued.
One
after another,
after another
**** us, and we still do nothing.
Nothing.
NOTHING.
We go around the world “fixing” and “helping”,
ruining lives and terrorizing,
because that’s what we are: terrorists.
Terrorists.
Terrorists.
We want to fix the world? We can’t even help ourselves.
We the people are broken.
Who’s gonna fix us?
Joseph Miller Nov 2017
I am cursed
by those around me
i did not choose
hands that put me down
with their selfish rage
i did not ask to be
a child cursed
again and again
year after year
who could blame me
for the mistakes i've made
before i was born
the pain began
Alyssa Underwood Nov 2015
My wounds are like a canyon
But Your love is like an ocean
Filling it up

My filth is like a mountain
But Your grace is like fresh snow
Falling over it

My rage is like a fire
But Your power is like a hurricane
Blowing it away
~~~
Outside Words Sep 2018
Someone watched from below at a crooked angle,
As I carried a metal baseball bat through the parking lot.

In tattered, blood stained clothes, ripped jeans and a white t-shirt,
I continued forward, ready to do what I intended.

Through the door and up a dark, black stairwell I strode…

In a midnight rage, I shattered glass, busted walls and tables,
And growled as I felt my weapon vibrate against wood and plaster.

I demolished computers, tipped over desks
And knocked out windows, spewing glass down below.

I smiled a gritty smirk as I progressed
through my night of destruction…

I poured gasoline and lit a match,
As I walked back out into that heavy night.

With a steady stride, I left with my bat,
And from behind, felt a soothing, comforting warmth.
© Outside Words
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