"shittiest" poems
Drift
Noun
A slow and gradual movement or change from one place, condition, etc. to another
Drifting
Verb
The ********* feeling in the world
It’s like, were still friends but we’re transitioning into acquaintances,
maybe even strangers in the near future
Daily conversations start to get rusty
And every word said feels like so much effort
Real talk, becomes small talk, and soon, maybe even no talk
Maybe we’ve just exhausted the list of things to talk about
And you know everything you wanted to know about me and I know everything I wanted to know about you
Or maybe you’ve reached your word limit or something, I don’t really know
But what most people don’t know about drifting is that
Drifting can be a one sided process
Like I’m here freaking out about our friendship and how we haven’t talked in days
And you're just there, probably not even noticing that we haven’t had a single conversation
If our friendship was a group work
I’d be that person doing everything, trying to fix things, putting so much effort
And you’re the one who seenzones the facebook group chat
It’s like we were on boats and suddenly a current rips us apart and if you just pull me in your boat everything will be okay
But no, the current is pulling me away from you and I am using all my strength to paddle back to you
And you don’t even notice and you even find the time to take a swim
Our friendship was a rubberband
You were holding one end, I was holding the other,
The rubberband stretched as the friendship grew, it got tighter and tighter
and suddenly, you decided that rubber bands weren't cool so you let go and i got slapped in the face by our friendship
It’s like wanting to chase you, but not wanting to chase you
Because it can come off as clingy
It’s like wanting to talk to you but I don’t
because I don’t want to disturb you
and that ***** cos you're the only one I want to talk to
but I'm probably not the one you want to talk to
so I just scratch the idea out of my head
and think of another way to talk to the person I once had endless conversations with
the hardest part in drifting is deciding what to do
should I let go?
Because they say that drifting is just a sign from God that you’ve learned everything you can from that person, right
And if I do let you go and we’re meant to stay friends aren’t we eventually going to find our way back to each other?
Or should I hold on, on this one-sided stretched rubberband of ours
and try to fix something that might not even be broken in your eyes
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 12:24 PM UTC
/ innocent until prōven guilty,
contra guilty until
prōven innocent...
ah!
so the minority report?
guilty, while innocent,
based upon a premonition?
hindsight with a zodiac
type of interpretation...
innocent until prōven guilty
has no superiority
in practice over the continental
guilty until prōven innocent...
no... because the principle invokes
presuppositions,
of suppositions...
treating the two as propositions -
or rather... "verbs" inacted...
innocent until prōven guilty -
then no understanding of freedom,
at least guilty until prōven innocent
allows understanding
restraint, however unfair,
with 18 years lost...
and then the tears of relief!
Tomasz Komenda...
an "espionage" case of staging
empathy...
en masse...
an innocent man walks away
from falsely imposed justice measures...
a redemption...
a count de monte cristo
allowance...
but in reverse?
the evil man walks free...
succumbing to old age,
and dementia, a pontius pilate pardon...
there is no redemption aspect
of the saxon course of applying jurisprudence...
the... innocent, until prōven guilty,
contra: guilty until prōven innocent
schizophrenia?
the latter overshadows
the former...
because we're not babies...
at least with the latter:
there's a redemption exegesis -
but with the former?
bitter-sweet tears within
the confines, of an example akin
to jimmy savile...
guilty until prōven innocent
has much more authentic emotional
content, with a redemption narrative...
innocent until prōven guilty
has? not much,
just a grave,
and the stunted emotional expression,
what ought to be flowers
within the heart,
instead: fungus, growing in the dark...
and thus... translating
to other hearts:
let's allow this chemo-phobia
chemo-philia experiment
be left intact in its the momentum...
honestly... the study of law -
is probably the ********* game
in the allowance of games of
adulthood... one tier above gambling.
p.s.
because you know there's proof:
and that the past-participle
thrown into a future, does require
an omega rather than an omicron...
not an oh, but an ooh...
hence? reign from above,
on the omicron, with a macron (ō).
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 12:34 PM UTC
The feeling of being replaceable is easily one of the ********* feelings in the world
You feel like your presence doesn't make an impact enough on a person that you can be so easily thrown out and replaced by a better person
You feel like if you leave you won't even leave a void and space where you once were
Maybe just a mark, a minimal trace but before they can feel that you're gone, someone new slips in
It's like trying to prove your worth and make someone realize how important you are so you keep a distance
But instead of longing for you, they replace you
I'm not some object you got at the store that you can replace when you're tired of me
I don't have a warranty, I have feelings
I don't want to be the girl who can easily slip through your fingers
Scratch that, I DO want to be the girl who can easily slip through your fingers but you choose to keep your fingers tightly packed because you know if you lose me you can't find another me among the 7 billion people in the world
I want you to know my worth
I know I have troubles seeing that myself
But I hope you see the light that shines through the cracks on my skin when I'm too sick of myself to look in the mirror
I hope you see the little hidden things and quirks of mine that I'm too blind to see
I hope you realize that no matter how many girls you talk to, time after time,
None of them can ever
Or will ever
Replace me
Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 1:11 PM UTC
I think of you. Your herpes-touch that crosses my eyelids
with chlamydia fingernails accenting in all the
wrong places. The white powder trail leading like a
highway to your right nostril—the unemployment rate
like a dropped lit cigarette in the ********* apartments available. I think of you.
I think of you.
I thought of you.
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 1:14 AM UTC
Meet My best friend,
His name is Billy Blue.
He gave the gift of inspiration
to the black and blue haired.
Uninspired Bandit.
Happy Birthday calendar,
I'm twenty now.
I've got about a year or so to make this work
or else
I'm going to have to strip my way through
beauty school.
I don't want to have
to be a part time ********** either,
I'd rather keep my shirt on.
Help a ***** out
and take me far away
from here.
Anywhere,
take me anywhere but here.
From the edge of the thought galaxy
all the way back into your arms again.
Some day,
one day,
It'll happen on the worst day,
like the ********* Tuesday
ever.
Only cause something
greater than ourselves
wants us to know
**** gets better.
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 1:54 AM UTC
I don't need a ******* knight
No shinning armor, your a coward
All you cared about was yourself
While I couldn't fall asleep at night
Stop saying that it was to protect me
I don't need a ******* hero
Why couldn't we have talked about it
That's how a relationship should be
I don't need a ******* dad
You are not the deciding factor
You don't value my opinion
My feelings for you are over
Now I'm just mad
I don't ******* need this too
I have enough on my plate
Maybe you would know that
If you had your head out of your ***
I don't ******* need you
Your a selfish coward
Guess I'm not worth it, to try to make this work out
Wouldn't want to hurt you .... well boo ******* hoo
I've had the ********* months of my life
Trying to act like everythings okay
Not to be a ******
Snap you in between sobbing
Trying not to start a fight
Still cant eat,sleep, or do school but that was okay cause
I didn't wanna hurt you
I always put you first
but I guess you never did
that's why it'll never work
Being around you hurts.. so I cant stay
I'm done
I don't need a knight
I don't need a hero
I don't need a dad
I don't need this too
I don't ******* need you
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 10:57 PM UTC
I spend all my time,
All my money,
And most of my remaining sanity
To stack together this perfect house.
Little pieces all fit together perfectly,
But there are thousands.
It feels like I could never, ever
Count that high.
I strain to hold it together.
I didn't think to get glue.
I'm about 1/4 of the way trough.
These matches break so easily.
I start to think I litarally brought the ********* matches available.
One wall falls.
I want to shout as loud as I can.
But I imagine what the finished product would be.
I'd probably have your name in books.
Multiple ******* books.
I rebuild the wall.
I push on, I don't stop until night fall.
I'm about half way through.
I take a cigarette break.
I look back on the hours.
I mainly remember the ****** parts.
A few cigarettes later I push on once more.
I build until late morning.
At this point I'm are about three quarters of the way there.
I again take a break,
Only this time to stay in what I have built, but not continue to build it.
I think back.
Why am I making this house of matches.
Why am I even here?
I remember your vision of the house.
I see you still have hours of work,
Easily stretching till dinner time.
The question is do I finish and stay at the house, or do I go home to make a nice meal for myself?
I went home.
When I came back the house was burnt away.
A frail, blackened frame remain.
No amount of good duct taping could fix it.
No amount of new matches could clean it up.
I still see the ash pile in my mind from time to time.
Next,
I tried a house made of fuses.
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 3:52 AM UTC
Our house in Brooklyn
Groaning with the heavy sheeted winds
Car doors and answering machines
A windy, winding tunnel of deep seated hatred
Vaulting towards you and me
Deep down in our tunnel of love
The black ice is slippery
Several more years til this kills me
Sipping cherry coke and *****
Sitting playfully on the carpeted floor
Playing with your fingers while Maury screams on TV
Screaming with some unknown rage in his eyes
A rage that has come from deep psychological problems
The rats in our walls stir again
Dark clouds form overhead
Making shadow puppets in the dark Brooklyn streets
And they boxed in the Avenues of the Brooklyn rain
Triumphant in their arrival
Several more years now
Several more years.
The rain streaks the windows
Water drops form vertical lines
They race.
The dogs barking again and I can’t control this situation
The sirens are singing again and they won’t quit
Every year this house stays up
We waste it on gin and cheap TV
Watching the cable from the house two blocks down
They watch the ********* stuff.
The Brooklyn smog hangs in the air
Dismal and clear.
The sirens won’t quit
But the dogs have given up
Their sheltered under the porch
Whining, whining.
The cable cuts out
The static on the radio is clear
And then the dogs howl.
Oct 16, 2012
Oct 16, 2012 at 12:43 AM UTC
For sale: One body. Used. Glitters in the sunlight but only when wearing illfitting, ugly, boring clothes.
Hair, though not much of it, but too much for the company of wolves. Fuzzy. Generic. Drips a lot after hot showers. Not black. Not brown. Not red. Maybe blonde.
Lots of freckles in shapes that may or may not be cult objects.
Lips bitten, but not as much as nails. We regret to inform you that this model has the ugliest hands you’ve ever seen. Skin breaking up, peeling like sunburn at fingertips. Red. Cramp in the cold and every other climate. Small. Fit into spaces they can’t get out of. Inky. Spew words.
Scrawny, disproportionate legs and arms. Knobby knees. Stuck-in toes. Crooked from hips-down. Bowlegged. Beastlike.
Woman hips. ******* that used to be perfect until nineteen. Now they’re just a bit useless. We apologize for the inconvenience.
****** Not a ****** Clawed. Friction burn. Too much hair. Too little hair. More hair down there than there is on one side of the head. Razor marks. Blisters, sometimes. Lots and lots of blisters.
Thighs are good for holding, not much else.
Weak. Scrawny. The ********* meal you’ll ever have.
Gateway eyes that tell you she’d rather be anything but a body with a ****** and **** and lips and all of the above.
Dec 20, 2012
Dec 20, 2012 at 10:02 PM UTC
Life is beautiful,
Even in its ********* things.
The small bags of life-
The creases in the paper,
The untying bands of bracelet,
The crinkled edges of the dollar bill,
The thin dark gunk
Collected upon the penny,
The uneven water splashed upon
The bathroom sink,
The droplets upon the toothbrush,
The random foam of the fluoride rinse,
The fraying strands of gray and black
Athletic sock,
The clouded water
Lying below the ivory soap
In its dish-
These are unpleasant, yes,
But they remind us
That we are in this world,
That this is no false world
But a quite real one,
One which we can shape
Or help shape,
One that is worth living in,
Worth loving in,
A good world.
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 1:57 AM UTC
Scribbling, writing, back of the class.
Only thing I pay attention to is your girlfriend’s ***
You say you hate me? I don’t give a ****
8 Women, who stay true, and that isn’t luck.
Either I’m a nice guy, or I’m a *********
Tap you out, throw in your white flag.
Lately, every day is the ********* one ever.
Yet I still play mind games with hoes. Clever.
I’ve got these loyal ladies on lock, forever.
No one likes me? **** that. Whatever.
Inspiration from Hopsin.
Your ***** out there ******* other men.
Call you Daniel. Throw you in the lion’s den.
You stay losing, can’t find a way to win.
Am I a ******
I tend to think so.
I try not to show it though.
Float down the river. Go with the flow.
Caught in the rain.
Strike you dumb. Shot through the brain.
Do you live your life like you want to?
Or do you live it the way society has told you to?
Man this isn’t you.
You are the one for people to go to.
Stop and think. Your true friends are a select few.
She got a wicked smile. Straight beaming.
I’m on my own level. Steady scheming.
Get lost in her eyes, daydreaming.
Her eyes gorgeous, always gleaming.
I'm not afraid of death.
Just afraid for whoever will witness my last breath.
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 11:34 AM UTC
One minute fine,
The next minute not,
It may be freezing cold,
But my brain is boiling hot.
The tingling sensation,
And then the trembling starts,
I cannot feel my legs,
Yet how I feel my heart!
The environment is spinning,
The air is getting thin,
No matter how fast I breathe,
I cant get enough oxygen in.
Things enter my mind,
I try to force them out,
But the harder I try,
The more they come back and shout.
I feel im going to faint,
Im feeling so sick,
I cannot run away,
All my legs let me do is sit.
My legs get weak and heavy,
My brain doesnt know whats going on,
Everything becomes something to fear,
The floor, my clothes, hair... and so on.
My mouth is dry like paper,
My body is sweating yet cold,
Where did all of this come from?
Is this what its like to get old?
My body feels frozen,
But my brain is running around,
Playing tricks on me,
Where there is no danger to be found.
Breathing exercises dont work
Though they make sense normally,
In the moment of panic -
You lose all sense of reality.
The images enter your mind,
You try to force them out,
But the harder you try,
The more they refuse to get out.
Everything becomes a danger,
I will say one more time,
Every object becomes a weapon,
And slices through your mind.
The nausea causes more panic,
The panic responds with more nausea,
What a horrific cycle,
How to stop it I have no idea.
****** functions fail,
The digestive system especially,
But now your afraid of the toilet (!)
Though you need it in a hurry.
The trembling is so intense,
The fear so intense,
You struggle to make a call,
Your mind and body losing control.
Diazepam becomes your best friend,
You'd worship it if you could,
Its often there to save the day,
..Although at other times you just wish it would...
The adrenal glands are to blame,
Im not the Adrenalin rush kind,
My adrenal glands are evil,
How can they be so cruel and unkind?!
I dont like my adrenal glands,
Im an ***** donar - but if I die please be warned,
DO NOT TAKE THE ADRENAL GLANDS,
...then again, with the right brain, they could be your friends?
Its the "brain- adrenal gland" combination,
Which is of the ********* kind,
Perhaps if brain sent out the right signals,
My adrenal glands might understand.
There is a time and place for adrenalin,
I have sampled many myself,
But this is just not one of them...
Yet - subconcious brain fears itself...
That is it.....the brain "fears itself"...
Feb 12, 2019
Feb 12, 2019 at 8:16 PM UTC
you're a really ****** friend
i became aware of it after everything started
to fall apart at the beginning of the ********* year ever,
2012, and after that,
you just kept getting
********
you think you have the whole world figured out
just because you
do yoga and
tour around Canada and
drive down to California and go on
meditation retreats and
play guitar
we used to be best friends and i know
that you wouldn't care if you never spoke to me again
not because you hate me, but because
you love me in a healthy, "unattached" way
(or so you say)
sorry but that's not love, that's pure indifference
and i read once that hatred is much closer to love
than indifference so
i don't really know
what to make of your
shittiness.
but every time i make an effort to contact you
i just feel like a fool
because i can't hide that i miss you,
i can't hide that i miss how
we used to be so close and how i used to feel
valued by you
you send me a "<3" and an xo and
then i don't hear from you for months and somehow
that's supposed to be enough.
you just are a really ****** friend and you
just keep
getting
********
Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 2:39 AM UTC
Scribbling, writing, back of the class.
Only thing I pay attention to is your girlfriend’s ***
You say you hate me? I don’t give a ****
7 Women, who stay true, and that isn’t luck.
Either I’m a nice guy, or I’m a *********
Blow you up, with a frag.
Lately, every day is the ********* one ever.
Yet I still play mind games with hoes. Clever.
I’ve got these loyal ladies on lock, forever.
No one likes me? **** that. Whatever.
Inspiration from Hopsin.
Your ***** out there ******* other men.
Call you Daniel. Throw you in the lion’s den.
You stay losing, can’t find a way to win.
Am I a ******
I tend to think so.
I try not to show it though.
Float down the river. Go with the flow.
Caught in the rain.
Strike you dumb. Shot through the brain.
Do you live your life like you want to?
Or do you live it the way society has told you to?
Man this isn’t you.
You are the one for people to go to.
Stop and think. Your true friends are a select few.
Man shut the **** up.
Your religious ******** causes us to throw up.
You want to be a priest.
More like a child ******
Yes, I read the Bible.
But you take it to literal.
There’s no punishment for homosexuality.
Yet there is for divorce.
You sure as hell ain’t no holy force.
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 10:39 AM UTC
How bitter I feel sometimes
It consumes me when it takes a hold
I struggle with this all the time
I'm bitter that you didn't stay
Bitter that I can't let go
I hate what you have done to me
I despise your voice and your phony disguise
I detest your personality
It's the ********* one I've ever seen and
Your attitude ***** even worse
You're just so **** mean!
I'm bitter that I can't even talk to you,
Because all you do is lie
I loath your innate ability to always make me cry
I would love to just break your stupid jaw!
I can't stand how raw you are!
Why did we ever have to meet?
You are definitely my biggest and worse mistake
And that's something I'll always kick my own *** for
I wear the pain and shame like a mask to the ball
I'm jealous of the innocent so
I've tried it all from
cheap *** to *******
Anything to try and disguise this pain.
God, what's it going to take to let this bitterness go?!
If all this pain would just dissipate
maybe I'd quit crying all these black tears
But they just keep falling down one at a time
And my heart feels so serrate
I hate how you can still get to me somewhere deep inside
It's amazing I still have any tears left to cry,
But I can't give into this darkness that consumes me.
I won't let you win!
I will not accept this defeat,
And because of that I will never let anyone really know me again.
© Ashley Rodden. All rights reserved
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 4:05 PM UTC
I believe I deemed another poem the last apology
So this is a poem of what's left
Though I'd like to say otherwise
You were the first, the last and the worst
You were the first person to teach me what love meant
The last person I'll ever let break me down so many times before
I finally realized you were the worst pain this heart has ever felt
And just to be clear
What's left is pain, anger and memories draped in holy light that no longer exists
But please let me thank you
For turning me into the same kind of emotionless *** driven animal you're probably ******* as I read this poem
Let me thank you
For eradicating any hope I had of embracing my own vulnerability
Because of you my walls are so high I can stare at dying souls without staining the skin under my eyes
Let me thank you
For showing me this world is not fair
As if I needed further proof
As to what my world become after you offered up your heart to the next five people who treated you the *********
You are to blame for the demons living in my heart, my home
And you had nothing to do with how none of that had the chance to embody me
I won my battles for me
But please let me thank you
For giving me one hell of a chance to beat the **** out of my hatred
Snap the backbone of my disdain
Obliterate the demon you gifted me
And walk away unscathed
C.N. / Words written in the sky that is my mind
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 7:16 PM UTC
lists of
everything
inked on paper
remind you to do
all the things
you shouldn't have to
if i didn't have
kind of the *********
family situation
ever
there would be SO many things
i wouldn't have to think about
like getting kicked out of this house
we don't own
mom killing me
again
so much for
mother hens
dad going to jail
for not paying child support
like, what the **** are we supposed to do
WE CAN'T PAY
why am i so responsible
for all of this...
rhyme schemes can go to hell
help.
Apr 12, 2013
Apr 12, 2013 at 2:32 PM UTC
It's pretty simple actually.
Make love to me like you don't know what tomorrow is;
Like a hungry animal craving for flesh.
Worship me like I'm providing you air for breathing.
Love me like I'm the best person in the world;
Like I'm the perfect person.
Make me feel that I'm special.
Even if I'm the ********* person in the world,
Make me feel like I'm a special kind of ****
Give me the love that I deserve.
*Treat me like a queen;
A queen that loves you, she bows down to her slave.*
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 9:03 AM UTC
its weird where i see poetry these days. like…theres a better way to say it than that. but im always shocked to see poetry in a bucket of bone colored paint or in a mess around a dumpster or in the dryer lint. i see it in your avoidance and in the jokes i’ve learned to make. i see it in scuffed boots and missing keys on a keyboard. i still see it in celestial beings. i still see it in the face of everyone i talk to. but now i see it everywhere and its almost overwhelming but at the same time i’m glad. because even the ********* things can be okay if you look at them right.
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 10:55 PM UTC
It rained at the 7/11
and I strolled to the gas station
the thin blur that passes into my vision
and smiles
Coins for the cigarettes
trying to see your ID
from 1:20 to 2:10
to that roof
rolling your ********* joint
and listening to the pigs drive by
we walked to the bus stop
then to the walgreens
we found water at the school
warming your hand
before you walked me home
faces drenched in the rain
wishing to get back sane
Jan 3, 2011
Jan 3, 2011 at 3:48 AM UTC
World's ********* friend
Disconnected from you all
Lost inside myself
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 1:57 PM UTC
Knowledge
Is the hardest
Part
Living through
The **** and
The waves of muck and
Terror that can
Sweep cities away to
A unnamed sea hardens up
A man
Makes them
See with eyes
Stained with black ink
And a fervor that ensnares
Their soul
And never lets it go; only
In death are
We free from this
The encampment was stark
As if ***** and left for dead
In a back alley gutter somewhere
In the ********* neighborhood of
New York
We had been there thirty days
But
It had felt like
Thirty years
Things you see
Stay with you
Become you
Are you
The sounds of the water
Trickling from the
Rusty spout of the prison hole
Bathroom
Became my concert hall
The drip
Was
My Mozart
One learns
To survive and
Live with oneself
Through the
Terror that man
Does bring
To other men
Be weary
Of resentment
Be cautious
Of jealousy
We are all not
God's children
Some are of
The Earth
Other's of the
Star's
But
Some...
Some have
No
Mother
At all
To live on the outside
Of forgiveness
To pray to only the sky
And yourself
To seek forgiveness from
Your fellow man
The hands weep with
The warm soft touch
Of your brother's blood
Each street paved
With the concrete
Of eternity
Now rubble or
Cobble stone
Split foreseeing that
Doom is only a singular
Part of man's future
Where there is
Separation
There is a need
For cooperation
The balance of conflict
Rests
In the hands of
Young men &
Young women
The old
Have already paved
Their way and
Leave
The rest of the world
To us
Where do you hail from?
What do you believe?
Do you see the sun setting
Atop the crystal reflected sea?
Love is stronger than hate
Hate holds itself up
By the universal uncertainty & fear
Of the common man
Plato's cave is lit
By the faint glow of
The minds of man
We can see through the
Cracks and crevices, onto
The other side
Open your eyes!
Breathe for
The first time
At last
Jun 12, 2012
Jun 12, 2012 at 4:03 AM UTC