"repulses" poems
I am not beautiful...
I am choked up tears, cover-up smiles
the kind of light that turns you blind
from having too less or more than enough.
I am not beautiful...
I am scratched out scars, burnt out heart
the kind of storm that wrecks up lives
creeping stealthily through the night.
I am not beautiful...
I am not your quintessential girl
the kind that walks with a perfect stance
swaying waist of 26" and pretty face all made up
I am not beautiful...
**I am edges and curves, messy hair and everything you never dreamt of
The kind that repulses you by skin, and attracts you by mind
Someone you'll never know because. . .**
I am not beautiful.
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 1:23 PM UTC
Awaiting was I,
patience safely intact.
As the wind so fiercely flew,
it blew my patience, away too .
How rude.
Walking was I, now,
confused was how I felt
as a sudden overwhelming sadness
Tore it's way through my body,
thrusting through my chest spitting tears upon my breast.
I stumble as my pace starts to increase...
it's thoughts of you that surfaces to my brain..
how dare you settle amongst my mind
how dare you resurface when I had this all sorted out
How dare you pretend you know me when I no longer know myself
How dare I contradict the very essences of my being through, thoughts of you.
A way with you distraughting thoughts, for you have always had a way of fracturing my fragile mind...
The rain she came and put me to more shame.
lame is my heart as my thoughts would not depart.
You may not be the first but, my God, I hope you are the last.
for you make the sun shine through my rain you are the stillness to my day
you are the laughter that chokes my throat.
I know you are with another, but I'm not just any other.
I don't wanna be with you for that repulses my conscience brain, even though I feel for you so.
I want you to take this all away way, shove it in a bottle and chuck it out to sea
for the lovers that we will never be, to greet.
The echo of your "tomorrows" still ring in my ears,
Tis the creases upon your smiling face, I would still love to embrace.
I know i said tis the happy you i'd chose and refuse the grump that most times appears..
but i fear that it's the all of you i'd like to greet when it shows to my feet.
I heard me beat in side your heart once upon our time...
Don't tell me it's normal to feel this way.
Don't tell me this is how it was all meant to be
and that you were meant for me
For it's still her untouched body that i crave
what happen to my brave..
did you take that from me to the day i spoke to you...
-Yanehs magta
Nov 16, 2012
Nov 16, 2012 at 7:43 PM UTC
Its the feeling you get when your mind is a war zone, a warped home where grimmy thoughts roam, with no guidance or support zone, your so frightened to fight it on your own. More poems of suicide and self harm, you ever dreamt you died and felt calm? Just a truant mind with health crimes, help cant cure a ruined life in Hell's palms. You fell in to a ditch and because of it popping bottles of pills that you mixing your ***** with, then nodding off a bit picturing god and all of it, a doctors on the phone telling you to ***** it. Consistently monitored, the alcohol, the quiting , the six, seven seizures, its the moment a schizophrenic freezes, hearing a voice that whispers when it pleases, the vigilant bulimic, the obsessive and compulsive,the bipolar mood swing and stomach ulcers. Its the hidden issues that the medicine alters. Its the judgmental that the depression repulses ,the anxiety, the psychs with the notes, the post traumatic stress and the vices to cope. The prices of dope,the ice in the pipe that you smoke. The knife the rope, the temptation of slicing your throat. Its the stigma determined to scare you, when the bourbon your served is your urgent repairer. When not feeling nervous becomes rarer and your mom quits her job to become your permanent carer. Its the psychotic episodes, the days that you lost seeking help, but being crazy isn't something I am ashamed to admit, so stay strong anybody who relates to this, please.
Mar 9, 2018
Mar 9, 2018 at 9:58 PM UTC
Our saving grace
now leaves me with a perplexing taste of hiraeth in my mouth
In our moment of need, we clung to it
although simple
and dashingly ordinary
we wouldn't be here without it
but now that it inches toward its inevitable end
I am filled with bitter nostalgia
one of empty promises
for even when our season was ending
I cared for you nonetheless
I clung to your ruminating sweet taste
for even when your newfound thorns engulfed me
I held on
watering jug in hand
and laid my eyes on your grand opulent tree
just as fondly as before
Now we are back in season
but my hands have grown rough and weary from the thorns of yesterday
your once dulcet taste
repulses me
for the taste of my blood is surprisingly pungent.
Apr 13, 2021
Apr 13, 2021 at 2:03 AM UTC
i wake up and i think of you
and i look out of my window
it is grey and the lights stopped
glittering a long time ago
and i smoke and i smoke and i smoke
i pour my coffee and i think of you
my mugs are stained, the blemishes plaster the
cups and never come off. they have left
their mark, exactly they way you stamped yours
and i smoke and i smoke and i smoke
the shower beats my skin and i think of you
i scrub; i scratch my pores with soap
but the filth resides, it clings and
fills my orifices. i am choked by dirt
and i smoke and i smoke and i smoke
i exist through my days and i think of you
everything is dampened by desolation and every
one has your eyes. this city repulses me, it sneers
at me and growls ‘there is nothing to keep you here’
and i smoke and i smoke and i smoke.
Jun 20, 2010
Jun 20, 2010 at 5:07 PM UTC
sunsets ripple across southern skies
like skipping stones across a pond.
i'm thinking about how we all die.
what will nothing feel like?
what did it feel like before?
i catch myself guessing -
the void and cold conjurings of a
scared temporary consciousness.
loneliness beckons and repulses me
in equal measures, existential inquiries
painting me into nihilistic corners.
is this just some brief gift?
i hem and haw and waste the light,
i become the universe i fear,
endlessly eating my thoughts,
embodying entropy as i gasp for air.
Jul 20, 2021
Jul 20, 2021 at 6:17 PM UTC
I need to catch a break from everything.
I need some rest, it's going to be good for me.
All the weight on my head needs to lose all those pounds.
I can't even go to sleep with all the concerns that i have.
Half the stress around me doesn't even belong to me.
I have hate towards these burdens that aren't involving me.
Take my running shoes off, stay barefoot.
Take a warm, but closer to the colder side-ish shower, then jump into bed.
Hibernate.
I don't want to see anyone for a while.
Im sick of too many things.
Im sick of people not being able to relate to me.
Im sick of the current.
And im sick of being sick.
One thousand curse words to daily negativity.
Break me off a piece of that Kit-Kat bar.
At this point, im too sleepy to see any other points.
I really feel like i need to write seven billion letters to all the nouns out there.
1 to the devil.
2,000 to all the disrespect going on.
442,000 to all the poverty in this world.
999,555,999 to all the worldly temptations that half of me wants to give into.
And six billion to all the people telling me i can't reach my dreams.
Chill out.
Something else that needs to stop is the lies. Im not diggin' the tall tales.
By the way it's unattractive how you only talk too much; it repulses me.
Makes me sleepy.
I like to see the real me in my dreams. Where's my break ?
A healthy rest is my escape.
Aug 6, 2011
Aug 6, 2011 at 9:44 AM UTC
The stone Angel fascinates me
and repulses me
It stands about 8 feet tall in a fountain
Its made of white fake stone
It pees
He wears a gown and has wings
His white hands gather around his middle holding a far too small water jug
Unless your within 2 feet of it
You can't see the little stone jug
It stands at the Corner of Tennessee Avenue and Beech Street here
*******
in front of an ugly little strip mall
I walk by it and we smile together
That Angel and I
I said to it one day," How lucky you are to get to eternally **** on this MayBerry Hell"
He smiled back
He pees as the children play by
As temporary lovers hold hands
He pees as the old people hobble by with their canes
When giving directions, people here actually say,"You know, it's down by where that Angel pees." ***
Sometimes I wish I were he
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 11:35 AM UTC
Bo, I’ve just been Playing Pretend.
Putting on make-up and brushing my hair. Putting on dresses and smiling. Faking.
Dear, I wish I could say you’ve replaced the past, but all I can say is I hate me.
I’m dragging you about. Breaking your heart one atrium at a time. I’m putting you in his place, taking you to our old haunts.
Truthfully, I hate the product in your hair. I despise the nick-name “boo.” I could care less about champagne and “fine dining.” I wish you read more than non-fiction. I want you to laugh at my cheesy jokes. I wish you’d gotten upset when I told you about the boy. You claim to be free, but you’re more caged than me. Worry worry worry. About one word answers, about slow responses, about me, about the non-existent us.
I’m offering apologies, because I never told you. I’m sorry, dear, but the way you offer me your cheek offends me. The way you put my hand on your leg repulses me. Your damp fist in mine, makes me reach for hand sanitizer. Your love for eighties fashion causes me to worry for your sanity. Your style drives me crazy. I want band shirts, and thrift stores, but you want quality over quantity. I want fifty-seven fifty cent skirts that I’ll wear once.
I’m tired of playing happy for you. I’m sick of being sweet.
I was in it because you were interesting, now I’m in it for the drugs.
I’m avoiding your gaze more. Hoping you don’t see the things I do, because dear, I’m afraid to be alone.
Honestly, sweetheart, your hands get me nowhere. Every touch is just that. I’m sorry dear, but your kiss stops at my lips. I apologize love, but you’re not in my head. Or my heart. You’re just a placeholder.
You’re me trying to find solution.
Try, try, trying to find the answers. Trying to find the cure.
And failing.
Miserably.
All I’ve figured out, is I can’t stop looking left, when you’re sitting to my right. All I know is kissing you feels like cheating. All I know is I can’t get him out of my brain. All I wish is that I would have fought harder. All I see is how us ending has pulled him further from the surface. All I can worry about is his masochism.
Darling, I’m sorry, but I’m dead weight. I have nothing left to give you.
Sep 15, 2010
Sep 15, 2010 at 12:22 PM UTC
Here is the situation,
As unfortunate as it is,
You no longer have a significant part of my heart.
Once there used to be a time, twice a time, when thoughts
bombarded my mind and chances were they concerned you.
But now my eyes, as reluctant as they are, can see you,
You unintentional enchanter.
You accidental seducer.
You oblivious snarer of infatuated captivation.
You are the alpha of canker blossoms.
You are the epitome of everything that frustrates me.
I used to live in a house where the
Walls were your voice and your face.
A mental institution in which I was never voluntarily admitted.
A house of mirrors in which I couldn’t see myself or anybody else,
My thirst for your infatuation reflected,
Mocking smiles of every kind.
I cried blackened tears that fell to the
Ground and then flew into the sky like
Bleached ravens, like childhood dreams,
So carefully groomed by the mommies and the daddies,
Collapsing into little liquid drops dripping through the desperate holes of a strainer.
I cried because you seemed to find it
Necessary to seek interests in other girls
And never me.
I am not a bruised apple;
I am not a crushed autumn leaf;
I am not a discarded baby blanket;
And I am not unworthy.
So why in god’s oh so deemed holy name
Have you not seen me?
Or maybe you see it right on my face,
Like I’m a displayed canvas as easy to
See as red blushed from a pale, void surface,
And you are just messing with me.
Playing with me
As I am your spaniel and you can treat me as such?
Like I am a doll whose string you pull
And receive a pathetic voice pleading,
Love me love me.
Am I below your standard of interesting?
What could possibly be so wrong with or about me that repulses you?
Not you really, but more your interest in me.
At this moment I am wound tighter with exasperation
More than any moment before.
You will always be a tug of war in my life.
If only I could simply expel you,
The nuisance you are.
Feb 13, 2010
Feb 13, 2010 at 9:04 PM UTC
I cannot do this.
I fear.
I fear repetition.
Repetition that I crave, yet also repulses me at the same time.
An internal battle between neurons and ventricles and atriums.
My chest burst open today when I recognized the face
under that mocked brim and,
for two moments,
the Doppler effect was just something scientists invented to make themselves feel better.
But it all came crashing down without
the connection of soul windows.
Blue? Brown?
Who remembers.
Remember is such a simply complicated word.
I fear the anger
and the holes in the wall
and the murderous screams.
and ripping church out of ears and heart and mind.
cause that hurts.
I fear November.
My best and worst two days in heaven.
And how badly I would...do...want that to happen again.
Next I fear the eyeless,
lipstick,
lover of hands.
The shallow one with a faux deep soul.
The hypocrite.
Her acid words that burn through screens.
They rip away the moment they penetrate my skin and touch my heart.
I fear her disapproval.
because she will disapprove,
this I know.
Silver tongue like the snake.
Venom pointed at me, her sister.
Betrayed.
So she will disapprove and that means much.
Then I fear giving half of my heart,
that is his,
away.
Well, it wouldn't be half, because is it still dipped deep in love.
So a sixteenth of my heart-his heart- and that is still much.
For us.
It is just a crush. and that is it.
But isn't that how everything starts?
Tender pressings on your heart until they become the pulses and beats and poundings and crushing sensations.
Once.
Once.
Only once that has happened to me.
Still is.
And even if it is unrequited,
I fear losing that.
I fear fearing.
I fear rejection.
I fear losing the one thing that I care about.
and I fear not finding something.
Or finding it to only lose it in a few months time.
So I will refrain.
Apr 25, 2013
Apr 25, 2013 at 11:34 PM UTC
He left his mark on me,
angry and aggressive.
His clutching fingers scrambling for purchase
on my delicate ivory skin.
He laid his claim like one would mark territory,
so that every absent touch would bring back
the phantom of his teeth,
haunting my flesh like a ghost.
Under covers at night it lit a spark in me,
but the dawn broke with my smile
shattering with the burden of my regrets.
I am filled with such shame
that the break in my skin
is a wound that winded it's way deep into my gut.
Your mouth upon my skin
raises the bile in my throat,
and I am sick of lust.
I am sick of the memory of you - of us -
and if I could wish away the night,
I would.
If I could wish away my fluttering heartbeat,
the fumbling darkness,
the alcohol in my veins,
I would.
I would wish myself away
in a second
because the thought of your hands on me
repulses me.
I am sick of your face,
burning in my mind.
Sep 10, 2013
Sep 10, 2013 at 5:19 PM UTC
My insides are broken,
They bleed and they weep,
For I've been unkind,
To this soul that I keep.
I find that I'm ugly,
My insides are thick,
My outside, it jiggles,
So I make myself sick.
This addiction, it started,
On account of a name,
The boys called me "Thunder-thighs"
As a part of a game.
This name, it would scar me,
And darken my heart,
It convinced me of things,
That would rip me apart.
I thought that when empty,
This pain, it would cease,
Yet it only encouraged,
The growth of the beast.
This beast that I speak of,
It lives in my head,
It plays on my fears,
And it wishes me dead.
It screams in the night,
From it's den of deceit,
"You can be lovely,
Just purge what you eat!"
So I bow to my ruler,
At a porcelain thrown,
I flush out the ugly,
And I'm never alone.
Now with each phasing moon,
The pain grows in my chest,
My hair has become brittle,
And I can't seem to rest.
I search in the mirror,
For some noticeable change,
But it only shows failure,
Our mind is deranged.
This reflection I see,
Is fat and so vile,
So I run to my throne,
And puke up more bile.
I want to be pretty,
And I want to be thin,
So nothing will stop me,
This war I will win.
But my bones become weak,
And my skin becomes dry,
I can't seem to breathe easy,
And I can't seem to cry.
I cut into this flesh,
That repulses me so,
I cover with clothing,
So no one will know.
My head spins in the chaos,
As I fall to the floor,
The blackness engulfs me,
As I reach for the door.
I call out for help,
But no one is home,
No one can hear me,
I am alone.
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 10:21 AM UTC
we remain the one percent
might as well lose restraint
go all out go all faint
occupy the fruit bowl
pay the troll toll
sniff the shiny paint
trickle-up poverty
ignore public property
on all fours run those victory laps
the meaninglessness in facts
generic hacks
how do you like them apps
near but no cigar
so close yet too far
how so pleasantly bizarre
how you miss the golden bar
that of his too repulses me from afar
Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 3:05 PM UTC
you remain at all times,
in my mind, not so much
a whisper but more of
a dull scream that i cannot
stiffle, even after years of
relentless practice
at times, in the night,
i awake frightened,
sweating, my mind
bloated with the fear
that maybe you ****** up
again
my eyes sore from
raining in my sleep
i reach out to touch
anything that might
assure me that it was
only a nightmare
& that you have
not just yet embarked
*on yet
another
suicide mission*
before, these dreams
were my reality &
you never seemed to
be able to keep the
two apart for very
long:
*the sleep,
the bills,
the ***
the drugs,
the drink,
the endless charade
of doctors, bottles,
& new clothing*
i watched in awe,
petrified by terror
but
despite the promises,
despite the progress,
you are forever hell bent
on sinking & leaving
no captives alive
you remain in my mind
at all times, breeding
anxiety, like spores
spreading their cancer
they are going to
eat you alive &
you let them
willingly
how can i carry that in me too?
i fear, maybe
you have contaminated
me as well :
to have absorbed you,
repulses me & i'm forever
purging these feelings
******* full circle
my anger, my void, my mind
bloated with memories of your
half-shell & filmsy pharmaceutical courage
*you were eventually swallowing
everything you could devour*
your consumption : horrifying
at least, before you
pretended to be full
dollar, appointment =
attention, satisification
if only temporary
now, your eyes lie flat,
you have become absolutely
nothing & it's the something
that rots my joy & agitates the
the demons you've passed on
still,
i ran away but you are never far,
the telephone brings your
contagion, manifest in words
i hear it in your voice
i cringe at the dial tone,
i tremble when you pick up
what bad news now?
at 15, she said she hoped
you would just die, i never
had the courage to agree:
preferring the slow boil;
the one that encourages
the fungal growth of your
disease. it takes root
everywhere.
you put me at dis-ease woman
die or don't.
antidote or arsenic?
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 8:07 AM UTC
white surfaces flash in fluorescent lighting –
this is no opus, heaving on cold bathroom tiles,
blood and grain against porcelain,
convulsing creature in all its grotesque obloquy:
bleary and snotting. four-walled, windowless, antiseptic vivarium;
life crawls outside. it thrives, it devours, it fortifies.
inside, here, it repulses. ****** effluvium of all kinds.
sharp shrieks of skin across glossed floor, tears soak
before the cliff of the jaw. nothing stays.
wiping drool off the sterile sink and sweat off my knotted back.
snarls choking into sobs, sobs gasping for air.
this is no opus; blackening from corners,
the repugnant vignette held between fingernails –
for the contagious odium of the resigned abhorrent
bleeds and drips and stains.
neglect and rejection strewn like pearls,
pearls, worth nothing, feeling everything.
a fly buzzes in the stark fluorescent light,
and blackness climbs in. blackness consumes.
May 2, 2020
May 2, 2020 at 9:32 AM UTC
Compose,
Gather, rather throw together
A set of words
Birds talk the same amount of nonsense
Translate these electrical impulses
Repulses of boys
Or men
(I can't tell the difference anymore)
Decompose
This body
Because its shoddy
It's not all have
But it is all
I am willing to give to you.
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 6:49 PM UTC
There is cast among us each day
Such garbage and filth and trash
Things that need to be burnt, destroyed
And turned forever into ash
We walk each day among the filth
It blocks our path upon every side
Sometimes it seems to overwhelm
And causes me to seek to hide
It repulses the senses as rotted flesh
Clouding up my mind
A path not littered is what I seek
But that path it seems I cannot find
This rotted filth of which I speak
Floats all around unseen
Near the ground and n the air
And is unto our ear a fiend
The trash the filth the rot
Is mankinds spoken word
In songs and speech and poetry
Are uttered things that never should be heard
Matthew 12:36-37
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 8:28 AM UTC
Light peeks through the
black curtain and I feel pain
It is an old friend
whose presence repulses me
I once was luminous
in the presence of shadows
But now the obscurity of my vigor
offers a crying shoulder to my sensors
I’ve been told that the light will set me free
But the comfort in darkness
offers a daunting bliss with me
I find myself most of the time
searching for ways to pass the time
And then I remember.
Tomorrow morning I’ll be fine
and I’ll go through the motions
just another time
Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 1:27 PM UTC
I am on the cutting edge tonight.
I feel it…the overwhelming urge to cut.
I have the razor blades laying here beside me.
The light reflects off the shiny metal beckoning me to pick it up.
Looking for a sign?
This is it.
When this all bubbles up I can no longer just shove it all back down again, not like I used to.
It just lingers in the back of my throat, in the pit of my stomach, and threatens me with nausea and the taste of ***** when I least expect it. I wanted the therapist to help me but earlier he was not that nice on the phone so I reciprocate in kind. But I need his help but don't deserve it. I want to scream! I want to just get what I deserve! Just do it already! I want to disappear from it all. I hate it! I want to destroy the parts of myself that make me “her”. I’m so tired of feeling overwhelmed and alone in this. I don’t want to remember. I want it to go away, and yet still, it lingers. It feels like a razor sharp slowly piercing my skin from my elbow right down to my wrist. It leaves me bleeding, an open wound, scars on my soul. I know exactly how it feels, I can imagine it right now, the sensation of the razor piercing my skin and it thrills me and repulses me at the same time. Why won’t someone take it away? Even just for a day.
Why doesn’t it go away?
Why can’t I trust?
Why can’t I get through this?
I am lost and afraid.
If I reach out, he could hurt us, if I don’t, I could die.
Reached out.
Bad Idea.
He was mad at me for bothering him.
I could tell.
I don't want to play anymore.
Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 11:23 PM UTC
When I let go of your hand I realized how tightly I was really holding on.
My fingers unraveled in between yours with the intensity of a ship being sunk by a anchor with the weight of the world.
My world at least. My whole world.
And when I gave you a final kiss my eyes were wide open. Usually when people in love kiss, they close their eyes because in that moment they imagine the future with the person their kissing. They imagine a picket fence and hundreds of plane tickets hung on the walls, with stories written on the backing. Don't try and tell me you haven't thought of how you would propose or get proposed to because we've all been there. Everyone wants a fairytale no matter how much they say that it's not for them. No matter how much anyone says that love ***** and that the thought of someone else holding and loving them forever repulses any part of them at all. We tell so many lies that they consume us with absolute terror. But I kept my eyes open when I kissed you because our child reduplicated "goodbye" can't have another hello.
Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 9:56 PM UTC
I can't sleep on my side. He might touch me again. He always liked me when I was on my side.
I can't enjoy sleepovers anymore, not even with my girlfriend. He likes to change her face with his, messing with me was something he was quite fond of.
Occasionally, even touching her repulses me. Not because of you darling, but because I'm so very afraid... It could be him. He's everywhere nowadays.
I'm scared to hold onto you. But you're also the only thing keeping me from hurting myself.
Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 2:07 AM UTC
Get away from me
Your presence repulses me
With all honesty
When I said
I meant hold me
I hate you
You make me feel the worst
Truth of the matter is
When I said
I meant I love you
You annoy me
I regret ever saying yes
With overflowing truth
When I said
I meant thank you for choosing me
I promise
To keep you
To live for us
To care about your interests
To be yours and only yours
When I said
I meant it
Oct 11, 2020
Oct 11, 2020 at 10:02 AM UTC
I really miss you
I wish I could write down everything I want to say to you
I wish I didn't feel embarrassment when I think about how long I'm missing you and how much this song reminds me of you, how your love of nature disconnects me from anyone who feels the same and how I wish I didn't feel guilty when my sadness becomes beauty to others. How I wish that when I am trying to express how much I miss you and that I'm sad about you being gone they wouldn't take advantage. You didn't.
I really miss you
I miss the smell of your clothes when you just woke up
I miss rubbing my nose on your shoulder so I can be immersed in your smell
I regret it
Because the smell of detergent makes me want to break down and cry
I miss having you by my side
I miss your sweet smile
I don't say it enough
Because I didn't say it enough when you were around
I miss you because you were pure
And now I hate to turn this all towards me
Because now I'm rotten
Now I'm vile
And every good thing that you were that I see in other men and in myself
Repulses me to know end
Because you left me
You left everybody
And I cannot forgive
This will be until the end of my life
On and off
You're a bulb that's not dying and the switch is broken
I miss you
I miss you so ******* much
I wish you were around so that I could wish you dead
I wish you fought back death so that you could live until the end
With all of us
Your friends
Be with us
Why did you leave?
Why are you gone?
Why are you dead?
The only thing that has come of this tragedy
Is narcissism
You're gone
And I'm staying.
I'm surviving
I'm not thriving
I'm not steering
I'm not the same beautiful soul
You stupidly fell for
No, I am not the same.
But I am not dead
And that is what I wish you were instead.
Not dead.
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 8:20 AM UTC