"revolting" poems
Slavery
A moral depravity
A moral degeneracy followed by intellectual degeneration
A luxury and currution among the upper classes
Slavery
A world without the fundamental human rights
Revolting cruelty from the ****** outrage to brutal ******
Slavery
World of chains
World of hard labour
World of pains sorrow and agony
Songs of joy are sang in the world seeing the end to this hideous blot
Yet slavery still exist in the modern world
Described as modern slavery
Modern slavery
A world without chains yet psychologically we are chained
World without hard labour yet we work ourselves out to survive
World with fundamental human rights but filled with betrayal at the cause of justice
Slavery
World for the poor
World for the less privelage
World of reality
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 6:22 PM UTC
Beside a dusty fan droops languid veins
whose movement barely churns up tarnished grime,
as lazy sun exudes through poisoned panes
injected with the film of listless time.
A gentle sigh is exhaled without will
for emptiness of long forgotten mind.
Eyes shudder closed to desolation's shrill
of conscious much too free and so, confined.
Revolting spittle dribbles down a chin
with absolutely nothing left to do.
To entertain and keep from going thin
you spy on friends who in turn spy on you.
Alas! For boredom is the finite trait
of great mankind's insufferable fate.
Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 7:28 PM UTC
*I magine Icarus
C reatively carving his dream
A **** the soft features and
R idges as strong as his beliefs, lays
U nderneath an innocent soul
S tranded in a fantasy.
Icarus
Flying towards the heavens
Embellishing the sky with pearl like wings
Caressing Icarus, soaring passionately.
His own hero in his eyes.
Icarus
Glances up, suddenly hypnotized
By the gleaming sphere of light.
The innocent splash-
Tasting the bitter, revolting sea.
Swallowed whole without notice
With the sound of silence as
Icarus now soars freely with the angels.
Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 7:53 PM UTC
Jealousy changes you—it completely shifts your mind and paradigm and way of thinking and way of seeing things.
Jealousy makes your brain cloudy with anger, unable to think clear.
Jealousy makes you succumb to the gruesome power of fear.
Jealousy raises up your ego in a heartbeat, making you defending yours like your whole life clings to it.
Jealousy takes your will to love—if it's still there at all. Because who knows loving someone could be this exhausting?
Jealousy makes you a repugnant, revolting human being.
...and jealousy has successfully done every single thing above, to me.
Jun 9, 2016
Jun 9, 2016 at 10:33 PM UTC
Jellyfish stew,
I'm loony for you,
I dearly adore you,
Oh,truly I do,
You are creepy to see,
Revolting to chew,
You slide down inside
With. Hullabaloo.
You're soggy,you're smelly,
Ou taste like shampoo,
You bog own my belly
With oodles of goo,
Yet I would glue noodles
And punes to m shoe,
For one oozy spoonful
Of jellyfish stew
Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 9:55 AM UTC
....
summer heat
pulsing in these veins
searing and revolting
emanating from the keyboard
radiating within
this hopeless romantic
charring the barren heart
but hope will suffice
the summer heat in her eyes..
May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 5:41 AM UTC
*
*
-
My silver Knight,
shining with angelic splendour has sailed
towards the outer regions of my Kingdom
to lay waste to all my enemies. My heart in
hands, my hands are clasped, brought alive
with love, with light, with prayer.
Please, come back to me.
As I think of arrows piercing his breast,
or swords, or warhammers or even axes
I cannot, will not ever dance to the songs
of war.
A fire that claims souls, the earth that drinks
blood, a sight that makes my stomach turn
To see men fighting for a cause or no cause
at all. For war rapes all of happiness and loved
ones.
Oh! Begone tortuous thoughts! Revolting facts!
He will return. He will return!
For my nation prays with fervour, but all have
bleary-eyes, no more than me. He's gone to brave
the dragon's dawn - of men branded, fuelled by
the flames of war, riding into the fields on their
snow kissed mounts, roaring and clashing under
a broken sky; the kiss of steel, blades that dance
between life and death and give any and many
the kiss of Eternal Sleep.
The harp of his silver tongue plays soft, gentle and
true. Hand in hand, we walk through fields, of my
dreams divine! The ambition, the care, the charm
glowing in your eyes to be something more.
To you, I was a muse to climb and soar though the
heights, and you spoke so highly of my golden
sapient quill.
My heart, heavy, full of woe
As sleep has not come smoothly to my face,
my body, my heart, my soul.
You promised me, 'I will return to you.'
'I will return to you,'
how your voice hung so sweet in my ear,
ripe with love, vibrant with hope, certain as the rising light
Please do not fade away, I could not bear it!
Please don't fade away!
Bring unto me that gold and joyous hour!
Fair the storms and roars; overcome the shores,
slay and return to me from the dragon's dawn,
unscathed and with a smile on your handsome
face.
-
*
*
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 5:17 PM UTC
The pencil scraping along the paper, forming a masterpiece taken straight from the mind and the nerves along my spine was a lullaby.
And so I drew a gorgeous, full moon and shaded its craters,
I drew furious ocean waves because my Science teacher told me there was a relationship between the moon and the ocean.
It was so intriguing to know the closer the moon, the more revolting and furious the waves.
But my Art teacher also told me that art is a form expression.
I was expressing my feelings, explaining our situation, and my brain and hand agreed to compare us to the moon and the ocean because that's what we were.
You were always so beautiful yet distant; watched and loved by everyone, but explored by few.
I was always so revolting and mysterious, no one willing or able to reach the depths and hollows of me; better maps of the surface of Mars than my vast ocean floor.
We were so distant and different yet I needed you to be.
You were always waking up every emotion I thought I had been drained of; turned my lowest tides to crashing, fierce waves; always dependent of your full or new state.
You are my moon and I am your ocean; so different yet it feels so right.
The ocean wasn't so realistic until I felt salty tears of it run down my cheeks,
there was no more silence.
I was at low tide, and I needed my moon.
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 11:04 PM UTC
Revolution: Part one.
The first French King sentenced to death,
Must have a new execution invented;
So that this day shall be forever remembered.
The execution of your King, this invention of evil;
This is how he will finally meet his end and go to the Devil.
The man behind the mask, the executioner;
Will lead us to change to a new world order.
A declaration of civil war, to stop the oppression,
Has lead France to say, we must fight to stop the aggression.
We must be revolting and begin the revolution;
To put an end to the executions.
The fall of the guillotine, for a life time spent,
Writing the encyclopedia, which lead to his death.
There is no place for God, in an encyclopedia of Man;
This writing is illegal, you are blasphemous! God ****
So the time has come, to take your last breath.
Remember when you see the guillotine... don't lose your head.
Until it's chopped off and ends up in the basket;
Another case of basket case madness.
No fiction necessary, for us to live here on Earth;
But this execution, you surely don't deserve.
So the poets leave France, before the revolution;
All of them heading, back to England.
These prison bars to entrap the young.
Taken prisoner for writing a book.
Follow their rules; free thinking is wrong.
The encyclopedia is evidence enough.
Man is born free and grows to imprison himself;
Then he must follow the orders, of somebody else.
Frances revolutionaries, said let it be, let it be;
But the nation is ruled, by the monarchy.
Imprisoned for what they think, the poets and the artists;
But there are no walls, in the prison inside their heads.
Begin the revolution and make us all classless,
Because they’re chained by society,
For the thoughts that they think.
A fight for equality, a modern day philosophy.
Man is born to think for himself; a revolution is on the way.
Liberty! Liberation for one free state;
A jaded nation must make a change.
Revolution began, after the fall of the blade;
Now the guillotine of power will stop us being slaves.
Preaching revolution, we must free ourselves of these manacles.
Preaching liberation for the masses
And freedom for the individual.
This new guillotine, the machine of death,
Makes the severed head fall into the basket,
As they take your last breath;
But they can't take your words, from the books you have written.
So fight the power!
Revolution! Revolution!
We must have a revolution, that is televised.
Che Guevara, Malcolm X, me, myself and I.
All of us willing to join the fight;
All of knowing our view is right.
(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 7:20 AM UTC
A fierce growl shattered the vampire's coffin
The wood cracks and the monster is awake
Hurry! Dig a pit for the creature to hide
Burn it before the sunrise
Oh do not let the world encounter this chaos
No one should see the vile mien
of a ferocious blood ******* entity
That thrusts its teeth deep into the delicate skin
and schemes for barbaric damages.
Look!
The naive creature stands with utter dainty
A revolting smirk sleeps on its face
Pale skin and a bloodshot gaze
An evil snicker revealed the fangs
See how the eyes move with hostility
Like a venom injected in the name of brutality
Sharp nails and clenched fists
Searching for a throat to slit.
The air now breathes a vengeful sigh
Like a wild beast craves to die
Dark shadows lurk behind the curtains
Silent whispers yodel about a burden
The creature stone eyed, stares back
I breathe quietly under the horrid impact
There!
It is coming my way
I can feel the intruding fear of a feeble prey in my veins
Finally, as if the monster made its mind
It opened the mouth in a solemn cry
A shrill voice so piercing, it shattered my facade
I fell on the ground like a broken glass
It was no monster or a Dracula that howled
Ah yes, my own reflection scared my soul
Years of self hate and agony prevailed
And I have been ******* on my veins in despair
My corrupt heart no longer beats
Darkness dwells in its core; so deep
Now watch the results of constant infight
I am nothing more than a mere parasite
A ray of sun touching me toes,
The toxic memories fading with the tick tock
Once again, I repair my coffin
And slither into a sound slumber on the symphony
Of a robin.
Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 1:31 PM UTC
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...
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 5:28 AM UTC
Now through night's caressing grip
Earth and all her oceans slip,
Capes of China slide away
From her fingers into day
And th'Americas incline
Coasts towards her shadow line.
Now the ragged vagrants creep
Into crooked holes to sleep:
Just and unjust, worst and best,
Change their places as they rest:
Awkward lovers like in fields
Where disdainful beauty yields:
While the splendid and the proud
Naked stand before the crowd
And the losing gambler gains
And the beggar entertains:
May sleep's healing power extend
Through these hours to our friend.
Unpursued by hostile force,
Traction engine, bull or horse
Or revolting succubus;
Calmly till the morning break
Let him lie, then gently wake.
5.2k
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, blood is shameless;]
impurity on the ***** red
I pure I shed
hunger I fed
so loose so tight on the lead
so irritating she bled
revolting when it messes with the head
doors closed sounds spread
again unlike the befores I said
polluted on garments I five the two
onto the further of the farthest of lives
I paint I skin
I smudge the thin in the thrill
till it comes to a ****
and a breathe is willed
for nails to blood
and fingers to clot
guilty shame not guilty shameless pleasures on the lots
I care I not
--------ravenfeels
Apr 13, 2021
Apr 13, 2021 at 5:00 PM UTC
Quaking Earth shattering Revolting
And I'm in the middle of it
My heart is at least
I didn't realize or notice that it got so big able to lumber out of my chest
I guess that's ok because I can't do anything about it
Just like I couldn't do anything about the fire rising up behind "me"
You aren't with me I don't get to hear your laugh anymore
Sprinkling down through ivy covered walls
You aren't with me
I've realized that a lot
But I also realize that when I get up in the morning
Or in most cases never going to sleep to begin with
The moon a lovely
Complicit pale lover
Never questioning me
Never worrying me
Listening when I need to talk
And instead of telling me what to do
Or telling me what I'm doing wrong
it just listens
I knew it wasn't a mistake when I fell for your pale face
It was a mistake when I started liking someone
Who's face didn't stay impressively passive when looking at me
It was a mistake to fall out of orbit
For someone who never wanted to be free
From the confines of gravity
To come into my sky
You know sometimes
I can still see your shadow
Just out of the corner of my eye
The way your hair would fall
How your eyes would even enrapture the sun
You aren't mine anymore
But the sun still deigns to rise
And the moon still loves me
I can't get back the love and adoration
I gave you over the past five years
And as I said I still see your shadow sometimes
But you aren't mine
And that's ok
Because even though you never cared
About being the meteor that knocked me out of orbit
I still cared about you being happy
Even when it wasn't with me
Even when it isn't with me
And each day since
I've gotten off of the ground
More and more
So thanks
For the broken insecurities
For the things that I never wanted
Thanks for submerging me into a vat
Made out of stress and emotional pain
Thanks
For the new sense of orbit
And the new outlook
And that sometimes
Dreams shatter
Possibilities shatter
But that's ok
Because when they shatter
The fractures
Lead to new doors
Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 2:02 AM UTC
Disturbing Behavior
disturbing behavior, is what you'll see from me,
disturbing behavior, is what you'll get from me,
I have only one thing, on this troubled mind,
what next disturbing thing, can this freak show find
obnoxious revealing, of my inner faults and fears,
gentle concealing, of my blow gun darts and spears,
telling you one thing, when I'm meaning something else,
hoping I conceal the truth, releasing my magic spells
cause I am so caught up in me, its all about my wants,
hiding behind my fears, showing artificial fronts
revolting persuasions, is what I try to employ,
persistent evasions, from the truths my ploy,
never giving straight answers, to any questions asked,
have to keep my feelings, yes my fears stay masked
disturbing behavior, is what I'm all about you see,
disturbing behavior, is what you'll always get from me,
there's just one thing, on this troubled mind,
calculating the next disturbing thing in this hollow mind
cause I am so caught up in me, its all about my wants,
hiding behind my fears, showing artificial fronts
David Nelson aka Gomer Lepoet
New song lyrics, get me to the recording booth quickly
Mar 28, 2010
Mar 28, 2010 at 10:00 PM UTC
I am a raging fire on the inside and what the
world only sees, a wisp of smoke
emanating through me. Lightning, thunder
crackling on my skin I carve history on streets.
Sneaking quiet tender as a beast,
people bow down to the tremble I speak.
My hair is a string of storm, raising up in
the smell of abhor. My flesh runs in a fire of lava and gold
Fresh and real, like a snake I peel off my skin. Through the ashes I am reborn
I stir and devour men with my breath of smoke
Tingling, Fleeting like bright sun glow, I
I am the revelation of today’s tomorrow.
Scare, beware my lips a poison of reality
Drunk to the liquor of skulls, I am flexed
my body taken from an Agate stone
Sinister smile I am a black onyx erratic and wild
to every screech I keep. My finger on people’s lips
Be still I come revolting crackers in my head
I am the child of love, born with a stone in my bed.
Come all you who dare, eyes like a cat,
I will slit you naked with a stare
I run the city wild, shouting the ecstasy burning beating in my head
those who are laughing think I’m in despair.
Shiver, I fly high, swiftly like a storm, I greet people with a blow.
This is my confession, the true disclosure of lady leo limbo
I am a magic dynamo, those who cut will bleed and disappear in my timid ****
Walk, fly, run with me I’ll tie you in my body, those who whisper my name
I’ll build you a cage and and in my presence, I’ll slowly poison your veins.
Haven’t they told you of my stories,
I am a natural force of misery masked in smooth ivory.
The great fire I hold cuts swifter than a sword.
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 2:50 AM UTC
music becomes mucus, leftover remnants
of bacterial infections that refuse to vacate
my brain no matter how many decongestants
i consume, those sound waves reverberate back
and forth and back and forth within my thick
*** skull and i am driven mad by memories
how to cut tender wires intricately woven into
the most simple mass of a mess you will ever see
i find myself muttering solutions in my sleep and
when i reach conclusions i'm already half awake
pen in hand, paper on chest, but ahh, it's gone, it's gone
my dream world holds more clarity than my walking
daze and i can only find the words for poetry, my
tongue and throat are revolting, refusing to take part
in walks down memory lane, fingers soon to follow suit
Apr 2, 2013
Apr 2, 2013 at 9:27 PM UTC
The
Decider-in-Chief
made
another
hard
decision,
rebebilitatin
a debilitating
Gaddafi.
The
Agog
Decider
sleekly
peeked
into the
bleak
soul
of the
master
Bedouin.
The
Pious
Decider
peered
pretty
deeply,
so its
hard to tell
what his
arcane
rebelations
revealed.
Some say
The
Jaundiced
Decider,
saw the
desert
bleeding
deliciously
malicious
sweet crude
onto the
scabby
tongues
of
Halliburton
Executives
while
Big Time
Vice
Dickey Boy
******
a petrol
nozzle
dry,
licking
the dripped
drops
that
drizzled
from the
shoot
hole,
so as
not to waste
a precious drop
to satiate
the black
viscous
goo
coursing
through
the ebony
veins of his
chingling
heart.
Others
say
The
Condoning
Decider
sized up
the man
and saw
a brother-in-arms
in the fight
against
The Evil Doers;
yet failed to
see the
revolting
obscenities
his new
comrade-in-arms
inflicted
upon his
own body
politic.
The
Forgetful
Decider,
blessed
with amnesia
forgot
Lockerbie and
applauded
BP's royal
court of
justice
for
pardoning
all perps.
The
Oblivious
Decider's
near
sightedness
failed to
foresee
a brewing
blow-back
amassing
in the
desert
winging
its way
home
on the
blasting
sands of
a blistering
Saharan
sirocco.
The
Pollyannish
Decider
envisioned
grand
spectacles,
only happy
visions of
Beyonce,
JZ, Usher
and the
Def Jam
Buddha
Russell
Simmons
yodeling
filthy
lucre
tunes,
sending
giggling
tweets
while
partying
down
with
Muammar's
posse
of martinets
and
way cool
far out
crazy
execs
drunk
with the
power
that blinds
the eye to
all discernment.
The Decider
decides.
Music Selection:
Lady Ga Ga
Beyonce,
Telephone
Oakland
3/3/11
jbm
Apr 12, 2013
Apr 12, 2013 at 8:11 PM UTC
The young maiden,
with eyes the color of the green-blue sea,
porcelain skin,
and the face of an angel.
She had a hyacinth in her flaxen hair.
She is the hyacinth girl,
with beauty words can't describe,
and the grace of a princess.
Today somebody called me the hyacinth girl,
words nobody has ever said to me.
Glancing at the image in the mirror,
I didn't believe her words.
grotesque,
revolting,
and disappointing.
are all compliments that I have received generously.
hyacinths - however, I have never received.
"words with malicious intent, were never actually intended maliciously", they said.
they led me to believe,
that I could never be the hyacinth girl,
that I see deep inside of me.
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 4:06 AM UTC
1749
The waters chased him as he fled,
Not daring look behind—
A billow whispered in his Ear,
“Come home with me, my friend—
My parlor is of shriven glass,
My pantry has a fish
For every palate in the Year”—
To this revolting bliss
The object floating at his side
Made no distinct reply.
2.7k
It's hard knowing
you're not in the right location
when everyone ahead of you
is doing so much better than you are,
and when you try to follow them
you get lost in throngs of people
who are
just
like
you.
You become plastered to the stereotype
like the same boring wallpaper
in the same mundane house;
the kind that someone wants to cover
with accomplishments because it's too ugly
to deserve even a quick gander.
And that's alright with you
because it's just how you feel: ugly.
You become melancholy at the thought
that every word you try to spread on that
revolting wallpaper in an attempt to make it beautiful,
before someone else tries to do the same,
just keeps being buried under yet another outstanding triumph
from someone who isn't you.
It's beyond difficult to understand
you aren't in the right position
to become the dream you made up inside your head
as you step over boundaries that are faded
in hopes you can immediately be where you desire
and require
when the design has a necessity for time
and careful planning.
And all you want is to find your escape
because the stress that continues to bear down on you
is pulling at your center as well.
You've no idea where your home is,
but it certainly isn't in the arms
of the mattress you claim solace in every night.
They claim that home is where the heart is,
but your heart isn't with you.
It's living luxury somewhere else.
It's every
single
day
you hear yourseld murmuring
'there's no place like home'
But you don't receive that free trip by clicking your heals.
You don't find your way home
by following that rabbit down a hole.
Can you find where you belong?
Or will you be lost forever in this Wonderland like me and everyone else?
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 11:39 PM UTC
The truth is that life isn’t fair– it isn’t, but “you do the best you can” – at least that’s what I’ve been told.
The truth is I don’t even know which one of ‘me’ is real and I’m scared of the many times I leave my body and can no longer communicate, it makes me feel unsafe and the truth is it happens every single night.
The truth is I’m scared all the time because at any minute I could change into someone else and bad things can happen.
The truth is every single night my body aches with sharp and persistent pain, and I cannot rest, or find comfort. And the truth is I prefer not to be present when the pain becomes unbearable.
The truth is I feel overwhelmed with the chaos inside my head and the pain in my body – and the truth is I know that no one will be there, so why would I even ‘write’ how it feels anymore?
The truth is DT has no idea what happens now because the truth I don’t think he really wants to know and he wants to believe that because I don’t ‘email’ him or leave him a ‘voicemail’ that I must be doing better. Good Job, Nita, you are doing such a great job navigating through the pain, in a much “healthier” way. But the truth is he doesn’t know anything about my “nightly navigation”.
The truth is no one wanted to know the TRUTH then, and no one wants to know it now. No one wants to see, or hear, about a man fu@#ing a kid. Because the TRUTH is that it’s disgusting and revolting, and horrifying…and the thought really turns the stomach of anyone who hears it. And the truth is, if it makes you feel that way to hear it, then imagine how disgusting it feels to be a kid who was fu@#ed.
The truth is I scared as hell that one day I will seriously hurt or **** myself. Because the truth is that we do tend to hurt and **** ourselves, and if ‘one’ of us does it – the rest of us are scared as hell that it will happen to another survivor!
The truth – the truth is a journey into madness…and you can’t handle my ‘truth’. Because your truth and my truth are WAY to different…
The truth is I’m not that scarred when I’m covered up – and the truth is no one wants to see those scars because it’s uncomfortable and perhaps a reality check that the world really is fu@#ed up – and adults really do f@#k kids – and people like me really do hurt themselves and **** themselves.
The truth is everyone ignores what isn’t “spoken” and the truth is everyone is shocked as hell when the unspeakable happens.
The truth is “I” am not the one with the blinders on. And the truth is you don’t see me now because you don’t want to see me. Because you WANT to believe that I’m doing “better” as a result of your “boundaries” and “limits” (what a good doctor you are!- pure genius…she finally ‘accepts’ the limitations –and as a result huge sigh she’s doing so much better) – but the truth is you don’t know because you don’t ask, and you don’t ask because you don’t want to know- because it’s not pretty and it certainly isn’t something you see in a showroom window.
And the truth is you don’t know what my reality is because you don’t want to know, you don’t want to see. Because my reality is covered up with clothing, eyes that hide the truth, the ability to use humor to hide even the most painful feelings, and a bright smile.
And that’s okay – but really….your truth and my truth are as far apart as Earth and Venus.
Smile Pretty for the Camera, Nita ...that's "perfect."
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 7:20 PM UTC
You are the petal that breaks free from the flower.
You are the last fluorescent string of sunshine before dusk.
You are the ripped wings of an insect.
Your "love" was cancerous
Your intent was murderous,
Your opinions, over zealous
And your range always jealous.
You are the last wave of the night tide.
You are the meteor to the moon.
You are Nothing,
Yet something,
Without good;
Just rotting.
You are the "darkest before the dawn."
You are the winter that killed the rose.
You are the nuclear holocaust,
That burned each bridge
And broke each road.
You are Loneliness in company,
You are a sunken charter.
You are a skipping record,
On the wrong part of the song.
You are famine with emotion,
You are the feign of hope.
You are my epitome of hatred,
You are the birdsong that is but a croak.
You are weakness and decay,
You are a fatal wound.
You are terminal illness.
You are not worth a breath,
You are what I can not accept.
You Are ******* Revolting.
You ******* Disgust Me.
Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 2:56 AM UTC
You said it,how you broke my heart
every time we talk I break and cry
I stop as I was so crazy to love
To give all there is unconditionally
burnt shatters and pieces evoke
Now sat here at the cross legged bench
this country oak that soothed misery
the one with antique aesthetic split
Overlooking the misused McDonald’s
where ducks prey, play and swivel
by the bus stop where people load
carrying suitcases to a distant destination
Yet, never had I been broken in my life
with lack of direction and unknown trauma
lost 10 feet under the revolting grounds
no apologies, no goodbye ,no explanation
not another chance,nor another beat
not a fiery fire, decrepit with the low blows
Now solitude is a glove that fits me
It has justly put the pieces back together
Washed the foolishness and carelessness
For we are not made of bricks and blocks
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 3:30 PM UTC
Looking back it's revolting to me
A marriage to hypocrisy
Quantum leaps forward
Like an angel's descent
Into darkness and madness
Wings are picked off for lent
The pride of the ages and mediocrity
Are the fruits of the pharaoh's' monopoly
Golden decor for tombs
Sandstorms and lost places
Swords of knowledge are found
But wisdom; no traces
Sold myself in to blind slavery
The chains that bind are just as free
Quantum leaps forward
Like a mortal's ascent
Above the pride of the ages
Till the pharaohs repent
May 31, 2012
May 31, 2012 at 9:24 PM UTC