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Michael W Noland Sep 2012
I don't always feel you

nor do i care.

nor shall i fare

the weather of your temperament.

I am exempt of the pettiness, and of the nervous fetishes, in the indifference.

I try not to be presumptuous, in the perceived ignorance, of the plunderers of my wealth

but am more alive.

More willing to die.

More willing to try

anything but sigh

in feeling the mediocre hand of my health.

So high

doling out the breathless help, in the restless stealth, of bland demands, felt,  in the smoking stacks of hell.

I survive off the glean, provoking, glass from sand.

I act,  as though i give a ****.

Evoking ash from hands, in the defiance of no mans land.

Stamped

in the trampled giants of the black.

Sampled, the compliant hacks in backless, tackling of the stance.

Cackling

I cracked.

and cracked the cast, in blast powder, compounding the flames, of the flounder flamed, in profane name calling.

Never to dodge the calling ..

Feeling the falling of doubt.

In the Tao,  of mauling my malevolence.

Thought i bled it out, as the stalling turned to insulting rebukes, in the flukes,  of lands never lived, but shredded in repulsing lingo, with a flute, to do away with the kids, I mingle, in wait of the sedatives to kick in, than,

Bingo

Nail it to the cross, of the intended loss, singling and wringing them out.

Lost

amid, the somber slayings of bombers praying, for fire to rain from the sky.

Rid

of the calmer makings of alarming sayings, for desire to feign from the cry.

Denied.

The reciprocation of a social spy, trying his best to comply to the prize, and smile.

Its been awhile.

Been a while in exile of thine own heart.

Heart of gold in denial.

Denial of the trials where i shone the brightest, in the mightiest miles of defiled lights.

Lights igniting the nights, in my first rights of passage.

Passage granted in the damaged dues of diligence, where i pursued the villages of my virtue.

My virtues perused the innocence and matured.

Matured in the final words of old birds, dying with dimes, and bagged wine in hand.

Never to understand the last laughs from young chaps blowing off their stacks, just to collapse, in their own mess.

I confess to paying homage in the calmly delusions, of my intrusive self abuses, to the ruthless seduction of my bitterly bitten bruises of seclusion.

I try to loosen up a bit, but instead run this gambit of bankrupt belligerence and hope for the best.

******* in the blessed wishes of the test.

Tested in the vetted nutrients of an institutional bowel movement upon my chest.

My chest giving in to the stress.

I often wake in duress as tears flow through the forgotten, as i brush my teeth of the remembrance of dreams, and clean the dumb away.

Clothe my flesh, and put my gun away.

Locking the front door, I journey into my day.

Every day...

One day.

One day from the mundane

I wont strain to change it all.

I will make the call

but never answer.

Instilling the hollowed cancers

to end it all

I shall befall,  the null.

The No.

The land.

enhanced.

Seeing.

The unseeable.

In unbelievable hate.

Conceiving the inconceivable, and cleaning the slate of my faithful fate, in which i ditch the mares of my dared intention.

I concentrate on the beautiful view from the deliberate limitlessness of my vivid visions to another place, that closely resembles the one that i hate.

Consumed of blue suns, and water breathing.

I bloom

in anger activated guns, and painless beatings.

Marooned from afar

I dare to bare the battle scars of taking it too far, and fainting.

Tainting the waters of life with the ****** knife, of my,  positivity.

The imagery of my imagined city

ssscattered across the tattered remains of my naivety.

Sssteadily holding fast upon the mass of men, even though i readily hate them.

In a single flash of rash decision, i forget it all, and go to work ...

smirking in the murky fog, that marks the facade,  where i lurk in shirtless shirking from the cold.

The shaking of the folds, in time, in space, in the told, telemetry of the mold

I'm

emboldened

In the boots that birth, the same old, hold of the complaint.

Applying force in restraint

In pursuit

to unearth, and loot

the saint

in broken wings, and painted words

that twirl, in the spinning ink

on the brink, of the blur, that births,  this sleeping male

to a world, encroached, by mundane flames, poached, from the slain trail of the ordained, tales of Mikha'el.

As others entrails line, the pale comparisons, as mine, are shell shocked in monotony.

i signed with the autonomy, never talked, and marched blankly into the day.

Every day

but one day

to stray

from the mundane

and make it right.

I will get out of my head

and fly

in light.
Nathan Alexander Aug 2018
Oh, how disgusting.
All this disguising...
To become somebody that’s worth existing.

Oh, it's repulsing.
Fully engulfing...
Every truth, that ever found itself hiding.

So join me...
Hey let's play a lying game!
And ***** ourselves, with something exciting!

Deceiving, and heartless thieving...
After all life is so dull without some bleeding.

Such is life for a boring... Existence...

Cause I’m a...
Liar, liar!
And only that is true!
After all fire, fire...
Is something I pursue!
Just call out liar, liar!
And I’ll infect you too...
With the addictive taboo...
Of bidding the truth adieu.

Trust me!
That’s a lie, such a lie, for a lie!
You see, I can’t pry my own dyed scheming eyes.
So please, forgive my falsified truthful lies.
...Truly... Lying!

‘Cause I’m a liar.

Oh, how appalling.
The lies are crawling...
And covering every single little bit.

Oh, how revolting.
And full of loathing.
It’s nauseating!
Exhilarating,
Isn’t it?

Manipulating.
Hardly pulsating...
A heart like that, is the only one that’s free.

Without emotion,
Without devotion...
It’s much easier to fake something happy.

Much easier to fake yourself being happy...

So, join me!
Hey, let's play a lying game!
And cover ourselves, with something inviting!

Rewriting, and truly lying...
Finally a story that wasn’t meant to end with painful feelings!

Put on the masks, and let's have us a masquerade!
Dancing senselessly, on the shadows of the betrayed!
A smiling, and crying, and lying charade...
Such is life for a boring... Existence.

'Cause I’m a liar, liar,
And only that is true!
After all fire, fire,
Is something I pursue!
Just call out liar, liar!
And I’ll infect you too...
With the addictive taboo...
Of bidding the truth adieu.

'Cause I’m a liar.

Peek-a-peek-a-boo!
Ha, ha, I found you!
Hiding from the truth...
Well it’s nothing new.

Peek-a-peek-a-boo!
I can see right through!
Liars know liars...
Like you know the back of your own hand.

It’s bland.
Such an existence...
Where everything goes as planned.
Wasteland...
Is much more fun to navigate and understand.
That’s why...
I left it behind, my world is covered in lies.
That’s why...
It seems there’s no longer blue in my sky...

So...

Put on the masks, and let's have us one last masquerade!
Dancing senselessly, on the shadows of the betrayed!
A smiling, and crying, and lying charade!
Such is life for the boring existence... Of a liar.

Am I a... liar? Liar?
Does it seem that way to you?
After all fire, fire...
Is burning through the roof...

'Cause you’re all... liars, liars!
And I don’t know what’s true!
After all fire, fire...
Has ravaged all I knew...

I call out liar, liar!
I cannot trust you!
But the world has gone askew...
And there’s nothing else to do...
Except bid the truth adieu...

Leave this, leave it behind, hide it in the back of your head!

I’ve given up on all I knew,
There is nothing, that is truly true.
I’ve given up on all I knew,
Because after they betrayed me, they’ve gone askew.
I’ve given up on all I knew,
Because life, people are so boring and dull,
There is nothing for me here.

I don’t see a point in living...
That’s a lie..?

Trust me!
What’s a lie?
Is it lies?
Only lies!
I can’t pry my blind eyes, while I cry...
Please, forgive my blackened sky full of lies!

Truly... Lying!
Truly... Dying...
Winona Forever Aug 2012
Mind,
stabbing at trauma,
so digusting.
But escape,
recognise the trauma of
the earth.
Given such devalued matter
to feed on
its whole existence,
yet
it always makes
something beautiful.
Blooming flowers,
lofty trees,
stormy mountains,
seven seas.
All the beauty in the world
created by
unappreciated benefactors.
Maybe
the repulsing brutes
that taunt me so
will grow into
*something beautiful.
Frances Adams Jul 2014
I’m afraid I’ll lose him completely,
Even though I already have.
Another day passes,
Another memory of us disappears.
Leaving an empty hole in me, longing to be filled.
We both made mistakes, but I still was never good enough for his god-like complex.
As I fell for him like no other, we became two negative magnets repulsing.
I fought so hard to have my chance with him but when I looked over,
He hadn’t even lifted a finger to fight for me and had moved on.
He gave up so fast that it feels like his spectacularly imbecilic mind was made up the moment I met him.
And that I was just another girl he thought he had figured out and was an easy ****.
But I wasn’t.
I stood my ground and didn’t give up my body to him and because of that he threw away any ounce of feelings for me and left.
One minute my small bony hand was wrapped in his,
Then within a blink of his deep brown eyes,
My hand slipped out of his and we shared our last kiss goodbye.
He looked me in the eyes after getting lost in them for a moment and said in a soft, regretful voice;
I don’t want to leave you.
That’s when I knew he had chosen her.
That’s when I knew I lost him.
And that no matter how much love we had for each other and how committed we were,
Even a friendship would be impossible because hearing him talk about her,
Or seeing him so happy with someone other than me,
Would hurt too much.
And I’d never be able to recover.
surei Aug 2010
Shall I compare thee to a memory?
Thou art more powerful and deep-rooted
The strength fails to be classificatory
Repulsing my being, away from the alienated

Like a motion picture, steadily it moves
With only the sound of your calming voice
I really don't care about what it proves
About leaving when it was once a choice

But as I seek to foresee the future
I'm not yet close to the end of my bide
And already I could imagine the torture
Of you not being by my side

So please, let me have your long embrace
Before time comes to find what it could replace
This was for an English assignment at school. It was to make a Shakespearean sonnet, even though it's not required to actually use the language of his time.
Sin Mar 2014
it is exactly one month before my seventeenth birthday and I am standing in the road under dim streetlights that remind me of the candles that glow from the windows in the winter.

your silhouette beckons me from across the way and I drift towards it, executing each step slowly like a surgeon, although there's no need for silence anymore. it is 2:05 in the morning and I have left my house in the dead of night. I slip into the car and the welcoming aroma of menthol cigarettes and dr pepper engulfs me and I smile for the first time in a while. I am not afraid. I am not sad. I am home.

this right here is the part many will never understand. home is not made of four brick walls and a sturdy tin roof. it is not a fireplace or picture frames or a warm bed. home is where you feel like you belong. it is where you are loved. cared for. needed. this is my calling and I've reached out to answer it. this is the family I never had.

three hours in a messy car does not grind down my spirits of this little vacation I've begun. I have smoked half a pack and kissed you much less than id like to, but your presence brings the greatest peace of mind.

upon arrival, I take escape to the porch to see the waves lapping beautifully upon the shore and I think that I will miss this when I have to leave. it is 5 a.m. and the sun has not yet risen. we take shots of cheap tequila in celebration and pretend that they are water. only looking back on this do I realize what a hilarious irony it holds. in childhood, many of us would pretend that pretzels were cigarettes and take ***** shots with the caps of our water bottles. maybe this small act is a form of regression. maybe were all still children.

everyone begins to make music as inspiration spills onto them and I watch in awe. at 6 a.m. we are down on the beach. I do not remember how I got there. I can only remember seeing you sit high on the lifeguard stand, a king, looking down at the world as if it were yours, and I wish I could give it to you. my wind beaten cheeks meet the horizon as I topple into the sand in fits of laughter and happiness; I wish I could bottle this feeling so I would never lose it. Joy is a foreign language to me. others seem to comprehend it and spill it from their mouths so simply, while I do not understand a single syllable.

I don't remember how we arrived back inside. everyone seperated. we climbed into the bed that an old friend had broken and made love as the sun rose. it cut sharp through the glass door behind us and sprayed waves of light on my skin like liquid gold. I am thinking this could be the last time, I am hoping it is not. we fall asleep not long after, and this piece of communion that was placed so gently on my tongue dissolves and the bitter taste in my mouth begins as soon as I wake, a few hours later.

day two is a chapter I would most likely title: The Panic. it does not begin right away. our day mostly consists of laying on the beach and kicking sand at one another like ratty, wild dogs, forcing each other into the pit of frozen waters, and making bets we will never go through with. around this time news has reached me that my mother and father have the police looking for me. I try to push it towards the back of my head.

but you see, the inner depths of my mind are already flooded with sinister ideas and broken secrets I may never share, and this panic tip-toes throughout my body and sets into my bones, weighing me down as if I had boulders in my pockets.

I am told to "calm down, everything will be Okay." when tears frequently line my eyes in silence. they continue to tell me this when we find ourselves in the kitchen scrambling to pack our things because we've heard the cops are coming for me. they also tell me this when I'm screaming apologies and holding your hand in the backseat of the car. they tell me it when I say goodbye at a nearby park and give hugs I think may be my last for a while. but the thing about this statement is, I am always calm. I am in a numb state of inner silence hungering for bliss and just four little days of freedom. but nothing will ever be Okay, no matter how long I've gone away.

the walk home, only a mile, was beyond limits of the word beautiful. the stars were practically beaming and the air was cold but in the good way like a puppies nose when it's kissing your face. or like mist falling from the sky on a summer night. I don't believe in God or any higher power, but I take this walk home as a sign that maybe everything will be okay when I walk back into that house.

if I could describe how the weather should have been that night to match the actions that played out when I arrived, they would be along the lines of destruction. trees ripped from the ground with their roots showing. winds sweeping the roofs off this suburbian wasteland. lighting strikes bringing on raging fires. it must've looked like that to match the look in my fathers eyes. thunder should've accompanied the sound of him shoving my sore body against the wall. pulling my long brown hair and tossing me to the floor like the garbage I was.

the full wave of panic washes onto me in that moment. for some reason I thought of the father I once had that didn't drink every night with his girlfriend, the only one that ever seemed to matter anymore. I thought of the father before he left my mother. I thought of him banging scratched pots in the sink and slamming doors with the strength of one thousand men and shouting with the voice of a man with a million sources of pain. I thought of how he tried to leave us once. and then how he really left us. I wish he could understand. to me, this is the ultimate level of hypocrisy. I am persecuted for leaving the man that left me in my time of need.

I am almost relieved when he says I must talk to the police. I have never been a fan of the flashing red and blue lights and the uniformed men who are paid to protect you but only arrest you. I believe they do mostly harm to many innocent people. you may not understand this. you may not know how it feels to walk up to this figure with the badge and want to tell him everything, to see if some shred of understanding lies beneath the deep cold stare in his eyes. but he only accuses me and attacks me with loose words that do not phase me. he does not let me speak. he is not here to help.

and so starts the beginning of the end. finally reaching the point where I am as trapped as I have always felt on the inside. the only question I keep getting asked is "why did you do it?" and I have yet to answer this. maybe I was homesick for a place that did not really exist. maybe I thought I would find salvation in a bed id never slept in but already loved more than my own. maybe I thought it was too repulsing for the two people who brought me onto this earth to be one of many reasons I desperately wanted to leave it.

I would love to tell them, my parents. everything. the abuse, the drugs, the cutting, the suicide attempt, the hell that eats me away everyday...they should know. but when your mother laughs when your doctor tells her that you show signs of major depression, you tend to believe this is just a game to her. talking to false friends on the phone and playing rich sports will always be more important. my fathers favorite tv shows and nightly few bottles of wine will overpower my tears and pleads for help. I am always stuck in an all knowing silence that everyone takes for stupidity. I've always said "darkness is my only friend now" but I think that night time is too beautiful to be an aquaintance of mine, and my friends are the Family by my side when my fists are full of blades and my feet are on the edge. I think this is the type of darkness that welcomes me as I wake every morning and sleep every night. it is the only place I know on this gigantic prison called earth. it settles inside of me and runs through my veins. it is carved in the walls of my skull and keeps my heart beating in a steady, empty rhythm. home, sweet home.
this is the story of how I ran away.  I figured id write it all down now so I don't forget. I hope I never forget.
Fingertips racing across bare skin, signals repulsing to your brain. Eyes lock onto yours; pupils dilated. Free falling backwards on the bed. Wrapped in silk sheets our bodies becoming one.
Jack Turner Sep 2010
I don't know
What it is to be perfect
And yet in love
I go out and subject others
To that which I don't know
How fair does that seem
To many a good girl
That I pass on by
Because she cannot live
Up to that unreachable bar

I am not perfect
But I constantly look
For this trait in others

Such hypocrisy
And somehow I don't care
It is very repulsing
And I live on, better and better
Brad Lambert Mar 2012
How do you feel about the word: Insatiable. That is my mind, forever devoid of what I can’t seem to pin. It is dull, throbbing hunger for more-more than a distant attraction claiming to be mine. Picture sent and picture received, but my body receives nothing more-more than desperate experiments. Countless hours of sexing in the darkness of a toxic Hummer. Toxic money burning a hole in my pocket, inches from the burning of his slick on my ****. I hope his *** bleeds.

Let's light another cigarette, and watch the cherry bloom. A single rose, shimmering and flaring like a nuclear waste, and the light is out. So let's smoke some more-more mirrors. I often peer alone through those sheets of glass. “Substance, ketamine, satiate me,” I plead as I see me and I hate men. My faith in God is never mutual. These prayers are useless. His want for me is beyond repulsing. His money is useless. My body is rotten from the mind, out. I am the king of self loathing. I am useless.

Yet I go back for more-more pain. More quarrels. More lies. More-more. He only takes more. And I take him, too. Wait for it...wait for it...wait for him to; Come! O gentle souls. See how my confidence sways in thine wake. You are purity. You’re innocence. You're what I crave. To be free. To be whole. To be done. So do me like the ****** you know I am. I hope mine bleeds, too.

My veins are coursing, pulsing, shattering at the edges with blue. I am blue in both my complexion and my complex feelings and thoughts and pains. My veins are blue, and I am cold. Taste the metallic crush of my slang. It is intolerable, and I must not tolerate. The ripe stench of escape burdens my mind. My mind is escaping. I know there’s more. Toss the rug over the barbed wire and run. Run. **** that ***** and make her beg. Make her plead. Make her run. Sanguine with ketamine. Run, ******, run.
Zy Marquiez Nov 2010
Crimson sunset
Tainted night
Horrific threat
Luring fright

Urgent screams
Mournful cries
Hellish schemes
Eerie lullabies

Shattered hopes
Frightened souls
Vicious ropes
Darkness controls

Ghostly chills
Broken seams
Demonic kills
Satanic dreams

Blackened rivers
Trampled beings
Eternal shivers
Essences fleeing

Cadavers walking
Headless creatures
Skeletons stalking
Infernal features

Ceaseless death
Repulsing view
Reaper’s breath
Long overdue

Satan’s portals
Warping destruction
Shackled mortals
Hell’s introduction

Armageddon near
Looming sorrow
Humanity’s fear
Death of tomorrow
Robin Görtz Feb 2021
The god has fallen at last; his angel has succeeded. The demons
that were kept
at bay come crawling from the shadows. The victor can see the mess and is paralyzed
by fear. The hellish brute is overwhelming.

The devil shakes away the shock until he can move again.
The devil takes some steps back.
The devil picks up a sword to fight.
The devil takes position.

The devil starts to slice the foes.
The devil starts repulsing them.
The devil starts to build a wall.
The devil starts to show the way.

The devil keeps them now at bay.
The devil keeps them far away.
The devil keeps them now as prey.
The god is watching him.
JasFow Feb 2019
you dont remember but i do
nights that occur time and time again
you tell me you love me
eyes looking into mine
i have to turn away because i know its not real
at least not entirely
our feelings are the same
but you can only show yours when
you wont remember the next morning
its frustrating and infuriating
we cuddle we kiss we hold each others hand
its not as if it didnt happen
its not like none of it is real
just fragments dont fit together the best way
your warmth gives me goose bumps
my neck still feels your lips
then the day after you slide away
when i sit too close you push
is it all me
im i that repulsing
you told me im beautiful
that was the first time i really believed it
somehow its all gone now
when you look at me i wonder
what part of me looks the worst
should i run my fingers through my hair
should i smile a little bit differently
if i wear this perfume will he not move over
will he tell me i look beautiful again
i feel insane even bothering
because youre just my best friend
It's simple, I love you.
Thoughts flooding out the mouth
From me they seep so clear
Showing every single fear
Never able to make things clear

I see her lying next to me
Forever by my side
Yet as I look, see where she lied
I only see where I cried

I scratch at these eyes
In hopes of ending the pain
Seeing the absence of you, my bane
Will forever drive me insane

My nose is scarred all around
From tearing at that repulsing aroma
Killing my soul, each breath a plethora
Of death as if I had Asthma

Ears ring with your disgusting euphony
My tongue forever moves sure
Making sounds about you with no cure
Your infamy lives in me in grandeur

I hate you and your gorgeous soul
I see it there, alive and well
It seems I have fallen under your spell
To have you haunt me and in my soul, dwell
IamMsIves Jul 2014
You drained me out of words
when you show me your world
fantasy full of lies
beneath the dark dark skies.

I was speechless,
motionless,
witless, powerless
to act on impulse
no less.

The culmination of our meeting
lead me into thinking
I am no scatter-brain
to be used for your pain.

Yet something told me
ominous as a dark cloud can be
you are not who you are
a dream, you so callously portrayed to me.

You are a wolf you say
howling, hunting for a prey
in my dreamless sleep you came
bare of everything;
armed with burning desire to fullfil the beast that you became.

You touched me like hell
I was like a wrecking belle
repulsing every movement you take
stopping every attempt you make.

Go away, don't disturb me and my peaceful sleep
go back to God-knows where you came so deep
don' t drag me to your so- called world, sicko-wacko
You're a man not a wolf you know.

Swallow your own thirst
engulf by your own dark mist
drown in your own sorrow
because now I blocked you
to leave me in peace and a better tomorrow.
There is always something in the blood
Something fascinating even for a god
The rush of euphoria and high
whenever a blade cut comes nigh

The thick red syrup of life
Like rubies cascading on flesh pipes
The feeling you get when
You have cut your skin open

The act is mildly repulsing
Yet, to watch it is deeply fascinating
As you see your life flow by
And lose it in a blink of an eye

The only question once you go high
When Death is sitting nearby
And all hopes come to die
Is one on your lips so dry

How long will it last?
Apachi Ram Fatal Jun 2017
renowned accidental mean by no means whistling *** runner cannon meridian\
Wow Puerto Rican summer pirate sum Now whale wishing Iberian Blow Conan\
well out westward smell reach beached faking it subsiding solar stream itch diving\
****** fish polar automatic systa\
genix endurance foul global once upon a judgement winter way dope scissors linger tinker\
niAgArA\
dolls bell Apollo Falls impulsivity crawl inciting seasons HALL spring mite coating WATER\
cheer Full luty nebhel stud revise Hallelujah still fill Lord Rama Ring rock paper fling racket\
eering Ludacris rocketeer inscribe Buddhas pencil\
                               fizzles shaman lystic violins fiddle\
                                                         ­  In Hyper mode acorns Nirvana\
                                                        ­           reefs repulsing adorned indulgence\
transistor Tesla quilting Albert schizophrenic blizZZZzard Kings entity bliss enter\
fabricating human being in sin you waiting weave abraham leaves waving goodbye arrive\
destitute mammal blessed less infinity kingdom class order family species genus gene googol\
genius plex praying on language needless speaking to say the least seven married majik three\
cumbersome PI Ed. 3 point 1 door to forestal four tall August Lot Giants consuming gunk\
festival hums incoming lust becoming dust muffs spending ungodly honey dismounts chariot\
dismantling wives involving hives manhandling dead ends revolving lives reclusive evolutions\     revolutions dharma ballistic infusion in spite of invites bellows profusion of the Trinity Beast Hulk\
                hallowed Hindu Titans beauty leak unleashed eight neat legs hands and deeds endowed\
loving kindness freaks on a leach Highland yang ying Bruce V ying yang Lee\
for Vendetta breach Central Intelligence Agent econometric Lake Taekwondo\
belching kajukenbo Yelp confidence dojo defix six triple sister trix un matching\
     style styx\ flex inflict flicK biC hatch imprisoned box batch dix dimension hix\
engagement Bad Good computer
Natalie Perez Jul 2013
Are you ever  so unsure about your feelings for someone? Like you might love them so much that it drives you to hate them with all your being?  The desire to crash your lips against theirs repulsing you to the point that it slowly widdles your brain into a mixingpot of emotions of both love and loath  
n.p.
uzzi obinna Oct 2015
This girl that i'll mention,
Love her beyond expression;
They said it's a mixed reaction,
I say it's their misconception.

She came during my worst depression,
Showed me true love and affection;
saw life in a whole new dimension,
No doubt i have chosen a true direction.

We've disagreed in certain situations,
But had sweet reconcilation,
Even in sour emotion,
We maintained undeterred attraction.

Never considered seperation,
Repulsing intermittent distraction,
No rules, no regulations,
But respect and honest devotion.

A product of supreme creation,
No doubt we're a perfect combination,
May the almighty strengthen our union,
And increase us beyond measurable proportion.
Sarah Kunz Jul 2016
My soul was scorched.
Excavated of the soft and tender leaving the bitter and dismal.
Days after this grand liquidation sale with my gutted contents crumpled up in the remains of used tissues my ashen lips were clamoring for you, the boy who set the fire.
I had skinned myself of your touch, each day nurturing the tenderness back into my cheeks. Seeded under my renewing flesh was the devil of animosity begging me to hold on to a fragment of you.
My healing process is fueled by the grueling fire of disdain.
Even with your presence gone I seek you to be the platform of my existence
The ember of softness and genuine essence weeps inside of me, if only I spent those days searching my hollowed body for the fire simply waiting to ignite inside myself.
I realize now how repulsing and selfish I am, you pour so much into someone so they are pooling at the brim, but if that burning ember inside of them isn't properly tended and respected, their kettle will never brew.
I am sorry I couldn't have coaxed your ember
I am so sorry it had to be you
Dante Rocío Aug 2020
Él,
Que se lo cruza, que se lo llama,
del mar que viene pero él
que se queda,
y forma todas las playas
de verdades, turbulencias,
¡que sólo los barcos de dignidad
alcáncenlo, ellas!

Yes, surely I am deplored by
the beauty of destructions’ marking, holding dear
what’s longingly perverted
through the lost.
Ravens’ repulsing cries
are the needed on the shores,
not just on the autumn,
the rotting of the sea tales
their voices hold,
the selection of exquisite
that my preference twisted wants.
And so much else I daze over,
that overlay of the Emerald Land’s
waves and beats that
my distant to the south shore pleads,
that jade,
that shock,
that valiancy of the Scots
which in our sands
and crashing skies
should be,
lusts
to be.

The awaiting
for that dripping glory
in a mellowed casing of a wrecking ship,
it’s in a waiting room
made from a lone standing rock
that carries myths and ventures
to fulfill,
the Young Verter’s
everlasting,
tinting
moment.

Show up on our silver days
at the bays,
El Acantilado,
del Norte, caro,
The Cliff, The Cliff,
Ese Acantilado!
Presenting the longing yet sensing a fulfilment
At a sanded scorched but finally in the mist beach
Where I started calling for the British shores
To come to us,
To fill the southern water lands
With a valiant storytelling, storms and grandiosity
Ours seem to have not in calm relax.
Envisioning it.
L Marie Nov 2015
"I can't wait for ten years.
I will finally have my life
Together."
The irony is repulsing
For your life was long together by then,
Because it was long over--
In one month, as a matter of fact,
Of you saying that;
Could you really not wait for ten years
When everyone but a few
Have forgotten you?
You don't cross their minds all the time,
That pain has healed from ****** wound
To infected scab to nasty scar to
A faint little mark
Barely visible
That is fading
More and more
Every
Single
Day,
Just like you.
I remember you, though,
Too clearly
For I was in that car
Lying next to you,
Lying,
Saying "It will be okay,
Help is coming"
And you passed so easily
And I stayed too easily
And your blood that covered me,
It won't wash away,
It's a stain
I see
Every
Single
Day,
Just like you.
Every time I close my eyes,
I remember a car ride one month before the last:
We were so done with school, relationships, part time jobs,
You grabbed my hand as I drove and smiled,
"I can't wait for ten years.
I will finally have my life
Together."
Ten years later,
I'm so sorry.
Alyssa Sep 2013
I stood there staring
at the distance between you and i
There are worlds, universes even, or perhaps
three measly steps.
Your hand twitched
and I thought for a moment you wanted to hold my hand
but i realized how stupid that sounded
and i kept that idea locked in the vault in my brain.

Your eyes refused to look at me as if i
was a foul beast whose appearance was so repulsing
that if you looked at me even the slightest bit
your eyes would shrivel up
and your heart might collapse.

But as i stood there measuring the distance
between us
i realized i had begun to miss you.
And that's really something,
to miss a person who is standing right in front of you.

You are the wrinkled sheet I have no intention of smoothing out
the empty bottles on my night desk
the clothes fallen and never picked up.
You have become a bother
but something i cannot bear to part with
in fear i will need you once you're gone.
If i smooth out the wrinkles
I'll miss the marks they left on my body
but i'll miss your body more.
You are the scars that will never go away.

When I finally spoke, I said
"I believe there are Gods
but there are no Gods watching over me tonight.
If you put more worlds between us
I won't be able to find my way home."
With that he put one more world in between us
then three more universes followed
and then six more steps.
I saw his back turn then.
I saw his eyes go ark when he turned.

All I could think of was
"If a body catch a body comin' through the rye"
and Holden Caufield's voice thundered through my brain.
He said "We should go after him
but you have to be in the mood for that sort of thing."

And I said all i could think of to you
and for a boy who was never good with words
you sure knew the right ones to leave me with.
Yue Wang Yitkbel Nov 2019
Mindful of this:

Keep reason (logos) close to your heart, and keep faith closer. (pistis)
Aim not towards greatness, but what is within yet ever beyond: the truth.

I

The summit, lofty beyond climb, great envy
Wintry and pallid, marked by death
He gives naught but vanity, a mirage empty
Yet takes all, consciousness and breathe

The ocean, vast beyond hope, waves swell
Yet, only faint specks of stars seen
While, within innumerable creatures dwell
It quenches not, but devours every being

II

Suppose the shape of truth is thus
Suppose the shape of truth and greatness
Is thus
A gargantuan ring hovering within the dark
As if the sun and its shimmering halo arc

!

Be the water, light, air
Transparent, unseen, unnoticeable, but vital
Be the water, light, air
Transparent, unseen, unnoticeable, but vital
Be the water, light, air
Transparent, unseen, unnoticeable, but vital

III

It floats above all, bright
Drawing envy, desire, and fright
This is greatness or great praises
And Truth is concealed in its midst
But greatness and truth are yet apart
Like the Copernican spheres and our star
Only the centre is a fiery near-eternal
Man, being a being, must be ever mindful
Only the truth of white heat beams
Pure yet humble
Could warm eternally the dreamer’s dreams
Perhaps, unnoticed, but vital

!

Be the water, light, air
Transparent, unseen, unnoticeable, but vital
Be the water, light, air
Transparent, unseen, unnoticeable, but vital
Be the water, light, air
Transparent, unseen, unnoticeable, but vital

i

Springs, quietly flow, unfeasible to boast
For only few cherish and worship them existing
If they, being forgotten, with sorrow leave
Then only arid plain, hopelessness remain

Man, rids all the grass and woodlands
To give to the future all, but air to breathe
Till roots no longer bind the dust and sand
And all suffocate, decay and then, cease

ii

Suppose the shape of truth is thus
Suppose the shape of reason and faith
Is thus
One is the skin exterior to the other, heart
Neither will continue to exist, if apart

!

Be the water, light, air
Transparent, unseen, unnoticeable, but vital
Be the water, light, air
Transparent, unseen, unnoticeable, but vital
Be the water, light, air
Transparent, unseen, unnoticeable, but vital

iii

Reason surrounds truth, plain unambiguous
Colliding, pulling, repulsing others of same
Gathering retort agreeable as well vicious
Harbouring within his *****, the faith safe
Though it must have eachother, never apart
As of the outer shell and the inner heart
It’s the ticker of life and love that’s most vital
Man, being a being, must be ever mindful
Only a belief of anything true to your soul
Pure, bare, and forever humble
Could prolong your existence with hope
Perhaps, untimely, but eternal

!

Be the water, light, air
Transparent, unseen, unnoticeable, but vital
Be the water, light, air
Transparent, unseen, unnoticeable, but vital
Be the water, light, air
Transparent, unseen, unnoticeable, but vital

Conclusion

Chasing greatness, Beings of Great Crawl,
Man always craves envy and praise
But the Truth Timeless is not lofty above all
It’s not unfeelable, unreachable
It’s not incomprehensible, undreamable
We should worship humility, most of all
Willing be the unnoticed, often forgotten
Yet, unforgettable and vital
Ever true to truth, true to self,
The Giving Light, Water, and
Breathe, none can live without
Not the glamorously bright, yet cold in its light
But the one unseeable in the sky, yet Ever Warming Life
The Perfect Torus of Truth: Be The Humble Invisible But Vital
By: Yitkbel Yue Xing ****
Written originally in Chinese: November 6, 2019 8:25 PM
Translated to English: November 6, 2019 11:20 PM
Date of correction: Saturday, November 9, 2019 1:00 AM
Svetoslav Feb 2021
Walls carved into stone.
The godly shapes repulsing
stars further from sky.
Belogradchik Rocks

Rocks with fantastic shapes, objects of legends. They are frequently named after people or objects of which they remind. The rocks vary in color from primarily red to yellow; some of the rocks reach up to 200 m in height.

Syllable Count: 17 ~ lines 5/7/5 ~ 12 words

by Svetli
Grey Pryor Feb 2018
I am trying
I know it seems repetitive
I know I'm repulsing
I'm the definition of insanity
Because i keep acting out the same things.
I know I want you next to me
Its just harder than it seems
Especially lately
You need someone in bed with you
You havent been sleeping good
I walked in with you by her
And your soars were like uproars
I know you arent cheating
Not even mentally
I just cant help but feel that lately
I dont want me
So since you sleep by someone else just fine
Ill lay in bed all night with tears in my eyes
I want you to love me
And i know you do
Its just hard to see you want me
When I'm so sick of everything I do
I'm so sick. I need to breathe.
copykitten Sep 2019
Darkness, shadows
They've never been his foes
Lurking around as he goes
Even to his death it follows

What's that thing with no nose?
Nobody ever knows
But only to him it ever bows
To others it shrieks and claws

Drowning alone in his sorrows
And all his miseries and woes
Waiting silently for tomorrows
As older and older time grows

He wanted nothing of those
Poisonous as black widows
Repulsing all that knows
Leaving him alone and lost

It wasn't darkness he chose
Looking at a candle that glows
It just felt like blows
And his heart hollows

He tried putting on shows
But they never lasted long
He ends up standing alone
Wrapped in ashes and smokes

One day he's had enough
And he shut his door close
From his one, loyal ghost
Till at some point it finally goes

That was when time froze
And when he finally knows
That a shining star only glows
Inside the deepest, darkest jaws

Oh, the insults he throws
Not to his woes and foes
But to those loyal as dogs
How he regrets them most!

But one thing he can't oppose
The line of present he can't cross
04.10.2016
Mem Tanhueco Apr 2017
Suddenly it's pitching deep down
Burying beneath the callous hide
Like a virus of needles, feeble yet fast
Crawling in and out the blank eyes
Contagious, spreading and tearing
The skin that withers, bones that rust
And out dawns a disease
A lone, blooming flower amidst
Mountainous piles of rotting carnage
With it rises the grieving crimson sun
Petals and leaves in a sea of cadavers
So it grows, and roots try to reach
The far edges of the horizon

From a frivolous seedling of sickness
Now scintillates the devoid plain
It starts drawing euphoric breaths
Out of the breeze of reeking pain
The sky pulls from it a tall willow like
Standing spirited in all the awe
But it's blindness, and its blindness
Brought it ingrained to feigned soil
Bearing fruits of sordid star clusters
Bound digging for a purposeless toil
As it tries to grasp firm the fleshy dirt
It's as if a swift accretion of dust
Blown away by a quiescent zephyr

Now it see its own doubtful existence
The stench is repulsing from within
Fake are its scions of luminescence
For not the carcasses are that fester
But its own visage where putrid blood
Flows and that waters the posy earth
So it asks and draws its own surmise
From buzzing hordes of flies infesting
The dying land like butterflies
Is it healing that it truly brings
As answers wreak from the blithe lies
Maggots surge from wilted blossoms
It knows, it’s healing that it brings
Chris Hutchison Aug 2016
The pain. THE pain. The PAIN!
It's in me. It's on me. It's everywhere around me.
In every single face.
Why aren't you smiling at me?
Why aren't you helping me, serving me?
I need attention!
This minute.
This very exacting second.
Can't you see my countenance that beckons?
Beckons with silent screams from red acidic streams.
Every beautiful ****** sinew in MY body.
Reaching, pulling, straining a thousand invisible threads connecting you and I.
Fish hooks in my chest tied to frayed line.
Why can you not see them?! What the hell is wrong with you?! They're right in front of your blank ugly face!
You just stare.
You literally don't know what to do!
Well that's not my problem, I HATE you.
This whole thing is repulsing.
You're as paralyzed as I am.
Those threads are my tentacles seeking a host, now out of water, convulsing.
And so we die.
I die.
Empty, as I slither away.
The end to just another day.
Red Aug 2018
fog
white mist fills my head
veins pump it into each cavity i hold
I am light yet heavy
floating at the bottom of the ocean
my body raw and naked
repulsing only myself

grief holds me to that hopeless sand
sinful stomach permanently lurching
the rocks of regret reside there
yesterdays poison long soaked into my soul

glasses of liquid brown
pills to dissolve my frown
boulders of remorse
surrounded by my greedy belly

an open wound to you a nosebleed
sharp thoughts now empty grog
pinned permanently to that oppressive seaweed
victim am I to the sea of fog
neth jones Mar 2021
life is ...
          strangled

much is laid out
          to shuck 'stragglers'
               and fetter the 'off kilter'

passive weeding ?
               or bleeding with medicinal leeches ?

there is a structure facing inward
people making unkind demands of one another
a fussing
a fusing of their time made 'important'
a holding bond
   alluring and repulsing
                  maintaining a close hovering gap
in the name of a darkly compromised species dream
repressed Oct 2020
Before:
Popping pills, crying over repulsing choices, murdering any feelings of remorse. Despising the conditions of living, conditionally adoring whatever roommate existed at the time. Breaking the vows I took with myself. Listening to the echos of my demons in the walls and windows. My curtains cover all responsibility to world and allow me to be miserable, which I’m impeccably grateful for. Terrified, of what will happen next. Whether it be death, overdose, or psychiatric institutionalization, I don’t want it to happen.
During:
I gave my friend $40 worth of ****, for 10, 25mg Adderall XR pills. I got home and started breaking them apart. I was separating the casing from the stimulant part (small beads to snort.) I then smoked 2 blunts and downed 8 key-sized scoops of Adderall. Which totaled to 6 pills. And then I started to not feel good, like I overdosed. So I messaged a friend hoping she’d know what to do. Well, she called the police. Once I heard the sirens, I ran to the bathroom and snorted the rest of whatever was left. I went to the E.R, was hospitalized for an overdose, and was evicted the morning I came back.
After:
Green grass, gray kitten, millions on millions of art supplies and a dreamy relationship with livelihood. A place of my own exists downstairs and I coexist with others. I cry less often that I need to, and I’m learning to see the beauty in absolutely everything. Coffee tastes best with a 1/2 teaspoon of sugar, some whole milk, and a bit of pumpkin spice seasoning. It tastes like fall in a cup and in the spring, it’s the best thing ever. I look outdoors while my eyes glaze upon the curious chickens, demented ducks, and beautiful Bella the German Shepard. I drive to places every now and then, and it always sparks joy. I’m no longer eating whole pizzas and 2 liter’s of soda. I’m running after toddlers and building fires, I’m playing with cats and eating Nutella on graham crackers. I’m okay. Things aren’t perfect. But it’s new. It’s a fresh start.
Pdub Oct 2014
I am frightened by so few things in my life, but why love?

Why is the thought of connecting with someone so repulsing to me?

Is it an an innate desire to be alone? No.

It is the thought that I will lose,
what will eventually make me whole.
Allison Wonder Dec 2019
I look at you
and I feel his touch
sliding up my leg

You build-up to the ceiling
repulsing me with your branches
tangling as you grow stronger

Your bulbs are hot
burning me if I touch
scorching my hands

Your tensil wraps around you
ready to jump at its prey
and strangle it to its death

Your ornaments dangle
ready to fall and break
fragile like my heart

Your angel sitting on top
is a facade of dreams
laughing at me as I have none

I look at you
and I feel his touch
his evilness indeed
I'm not happy at all
And I can't seem to explain it very much for people to see its actuality,
Not enough to understand how much it consumes me
When I don't even know myself.

It's a good job I don't have a father
Because he'd only ever be disappointed in me
Every single second.
I don't even know why it keeps coming back to that;
I find it repulsing because I never used to care
And I never should and it makes me hate everything a little more
Each and every time I fall again.

I hate the way this poem complains
And sounds like a pointless wining child.
It's just like I'm listing complaints,
Which literally I am
How ******* pathetic is that?
I can't even make it go right and now that I've started
I wish I'd stopped.
In just a few seconds I'll post to prove
Just how much I get wrong daily.

Don't think I'm asking for sorrow and praise,
I never do that because I know there won't be any responses.
People complain elsewhere about being taken ill
Some people wonder if it's also for attention,
But if I did that then I wouldn't get a single mention.

All my aggravation is erupting to the surface,
But volcanoes create a more magnificent disaster
Whereas my destruction is purely chaotic,
No one else notices.
I either try to hide it or attempt to subtly admit it
Which I guess no one takes seriously
And I keep thinking it doesn't need to be.
I'm starting to wonder if it will actually become a problem
Because it feels like a lot,
Although as it's me
It's probably not.
(By the way I'm not trying to make volcanic eruptions sound any less destructive -physically and emotionally-, just that they're interesting in the geographical complexity.)
cristina Mar 5
my love is desperate consumption of anything im not

i can only ever crave hankering separation

(the farthest away from my own sinful hand)

and abhor all that easily falls into my shameless claws

i swallow my desire and digest it long enough it turns into something carrying an all too familiar ugliness

(i stare into the abyss and in the abyss i see you tire)

everything i love i stain with my own repulsing vacancy,

mercilessly shape it into a cage befitting my prodigal heart

fill it with the same insatiable appetite that snarls and howls knowing no decency

my love is not creation but its own twisted pretense being picked apart

loving is god creating his own specular image of worship

looking at it with both resentful revulsion and unspeakable lust

and i, just like god, can never love anything made of my rib
Raven Feb 2022
I wanna hurt myself
Worse then ever before
I wanna do it until
All I can see from my legs
Is the blood all over the floor

I wanna hurt myself
Worse then ever before
So that I can see the blood
That makes me feel calmer
Than anything more

Its pretty
Mesmorizing
And so easy to focus on

When the rest of the world feels
Ugly
Repulsing
And so hard to cope with

The way it feels is so nice
The way it flows is so soothing
The way it warms me up is so calming

Its warm and cozy
And makes me feel
Less lonely
And empty

No one understands it fully
Other than me
For I've never met another person
Who cuts for the purpose
Of seeing themselves bleed

Its concerning and dangerous
I know this
But its soothing
And freeing
So how bad can it be

Unfortunately I fear
That one day
No amount of blood
Will be enough

And on that day
I'll end up
With none
Left to bleed
Oct/3/2021

— The End —