"shrink" poems
Goodnight, the fire burns brightly
Goodnight, you kiss my forehead lightly
Almost paternally now
- We were lovers
Goodnight, clinging to the sheets by your side
Goodnight, heartache in this house tonight
Someday we will forget
- We were lovers
This distance will turn my blood cold
A grave look on a pale face of youth
If I could shrink the ocean to be close
Would you save me anymore
Love became an ugly truth
Goodnight, the fire burns brightly
Goodnight, I held on to the moment tightly
Almost in retrospect
- We were lovers
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 5:14 PM UTC
If I wasn't gay would people care?
Would they actually let me breath the same air?
Could I actually go to school,
without people being so cruel?
Could I live in a world with no hate?
Maybe people would love me if I was straight.
It's not as easy as people think.
I can't just go to a shrink.
I didn't choose to be this way.
You really think I'd want to be gay?
I don't want attention,
I don't want fame.
This isn't some sort of game.
I am who I am and thats okay.
Most people don't see it that way.
I only wish I could be the same.
To have a wedding and it not be shamed.
I want to have kids and not be judged.
I don't want my reputation smudged.
But apparently I'm different now.
Sick in the head somehow.
Therapy and shock treatment for something that can't be fixed.
How did I get put into this mix?
Toxic and tragic,
that's my life.
It's like I was stabbed in the back with a knife.
I'm gay,
what's wrong with that?
I get treated like some rat.
Using your holy books and your religion.
To fight against something that makes no difference.
I want to be a human not a punching bag.
Always getting called a ***
Let that word have power and it gets to you.
But that words as good as whatever is stuck to the bottom of my shoe.
I love being this way.
I don't care what you say.
Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 4:25 PM UTC
I don’t care how
or care what you do
to make it happen;
I just told you
make me shine
so slather me in turpentine.
I want the sun to shrink
and the world turn dark,
when she’ll no longer rise
after she rests her eyes
upon my fiery spark.
I want the moon to swoon
and raise the tides
when he looks for the sun,
but instead
it’s my beauty that he finds.
I want the stars to bow down
and shower me in gold
when I shine brighter
and reach higher
than the stars of old.
I want storms to make
the world stir
when I walk upon
their earth,
no matter what it’ll take.
I don’t care
if it kills me;
just answer my plea.
I just want, so badly,
to shine,
so slather me in turpentine.
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 9:11 PM UTC
Touch it: it won't shrink like an eyeball,
This egg-shaped bailiwick, clear as a tear.
Here's yesterday, last year ---
Palm-spear and lily distinct as flora in the vast
Windless threadwork of a tapestry.
Flick the glass with your fingernail:
It will ping like a Chinese chime in the slightest air stir
Though nobody in there looks up or bothers to answer.
The inhabitants are light as cork,
Every one of them permanently busy.
At their feet, the sea waves bow in single file.
Never trespassing in bad temper:
Stalling in midair,
Short-reined, pawing like paradeground horses.
Overhead, the clouds sit tasseled and fancy
As Victorian cushions. This family
Of valentine faces might please a collector:
They ring true, like good china.
Elsewhere the landscape is more frank.
The light falls without letup, blindingly.
A woman is dragging her shadow in a circle
About a bald hospital saucer.
It resembles the moon, or a sheet of blank paper
And appears to have suffered a sort of private blitzkrieg.
She lives quietly
With no attachments, like a foetus in a bottle,
The obsolete house, the sea, flattened to a picture
She has one too many dimensions to enter.
Grief and anger, exorcised,
Leave her alone now.
The future is a grey seagull
Tattling in its cat-voice of departure.
Age and terror, like nurses, attend her,
And a drowned man, complaining of the great cold,
Crawls up out of the sea.
41.9k
Your limitless future brings great fear
The future is less far and more near
Glasses will replace cellphones next year
Hundreds can share one's eyes
People you replace will shed a tear
Tech is human's demise
You con with lights and buttons and bells
Amplifying strength, you fit in cells
We drown in technological wells
You thrive and humans shrink
The addiction will rot us in Hell
People! Log off and think!
When do we cease with this life carefree
It's time people let well enough be
Tech will soon replace humans for free
Tractors and new machines
Starved, by stealing the jobs of many
Limitations obscene
Mar 20, 2013
Mar 20, 2013 at 8:35 PM UTC
If yelling at her in an argument doesn't make your throat burn like you just downed 6 shots,
you don't love her.
If her eyes can't make you stop in your tracks and think about what you're about to say next,
you're not in love with her.
If her laugh doesn't make you tense up your knuckles thinking about never hearing it again,
you're not in love with her.
If her voice can't calm you're worst anxiety attacks and makes you want to listen to anything she has to say,
you're not in love with her.
If her smile doesn't make you're chest quake and your lungs shrink but feel refreshed all in one motion,
you're not in love with her.
If her taking off her clothes is when you pay the most attention to her, you're not in love with her.
Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 at 11:50 AM UTC
Shrink yourself
Oh she's fading away
Hold her bones together
As the movies play
When a diet becomes an addiction
I felt myself give in
My mind was hooked on these
Skinny thoughts
Bones dance in my dreams
And I couldn't be shaken awake
Yes I'll be skinny like the others
Beautiful like I want
But there's nothing beautiful
About your hair falling out
And passing out and hitting your head
And freezing in the summer
And constantly falling asleep
There's nothing cute about
***** in your hair
And on your clothes
****** noses
And aching bones
Nothing glamorous behind that bathroom door
Just a stupid girl
With her head stuck half way down the pipes
Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 12:37 AM UTC
In the storm-tossed
Chilean
sea
lives the rosy conger,
giant eel
of snowy flesh.
And in Chilean
stewpots,
along the coast,
was born the chowder,
thick and succulent,
a boon to man.
You bring the conger, skinned,
to the kitchen
(its mottled skin slips off
like a glove,
leaving the
grape of the sea
exposed to the world),
naked,
the tender eel
glistens,
prepared
to serve our appetites.
Now
you take
garlic,
first, caress
that precious
ivory,
smell
its irate fragrance,
then
blend the minced garlic
with onion
and tomato
until the onion
is the color of gold.
Meanwhile steam
our regal
ocean prawns,
and when
they are
tender,
when the savor is
set in a sauce
combining the liquors
of the ocean
and the clear water
released from the light of the onion,
then
you add the eel
that it may be immersed in glory,
that it may steep in the oils
of the ***
shrink and be saturated.
Now all that remains is to
drop a dollop of cream
into the concoction,
a heavy rose,
then slowly
deliver
the treasure to the flame,
until in the chowder
are warmed
the essences of Chile,
and to the table
come, newly wed,
the savors
of land and sea,
that in this dish
you may know heaven.
14.4k
on a sea strand,
have you watched empty shells
mercilessly tossed from sea to shore
and from shore to sea?
often I shrink and reduce to such a shell,
with jagged and broken edges
colorless and empty
among many a debris cast on the shore,
i lie half buried under the sand
waiting for some mighty wave
to wash me away
all the way to the sea
how tedious is my voyage
shuttling from him to her
and from her to him
unable to openly confess
who weighs more
on the balance of preference
through how many alleys and by ways
I have wandered, questioning my identity!
am I a puffer fish, being toxic
the fisher men have discarded?
a jarring note in a discordant symphony?
I wonder....! I often ask myself!
destined to grow
in mercurial climes,
planted in arid shallow soil
with the tap root trimmed,
branches pruned,
growth denied,
I, a stunted bonsai!
still I dream to be a towering tree,
that in profusion gives fruits and shade!
a ****** aspiring to be a Goliath
a hollow reed,
longing at once to be the singer and the song!
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 9:41 AM UTC
The punitive silences,
the bad atmosphere they generate,
the mind-games they use to try to **** you in
are telltale signs of the toxic person.
It could be your in-laws, a parent, coworker, your boss or spouse,
a sibling, a roommate, boyfriend or girlfriend,
someone you want out of the house.
Toxic people want to make you miserable.
Especially if you're a decent sort, they hone in on you like a heat-seeking missile.
They spew their negativity and blame it on you.
They lie constantly, or twist the facts to suit their changing needs of the moment
and they never apologize (so don't expect an apology, ever).
With a toxic person there is no reciprocity.
They sprinkle their toxic dust on you. It makes them feel better.
Their ulterior goal is to demean you, to make you feel smaller.
They project their worst tendencies onto you,
find fault with you for traits you don't possess---
a shadow of the **** that lurks inside them.
They try to dictate the emotional atmosphere
through their attitude or twisted mood.
They drain you of your energy, bring you down,
They'll always find a reason why your good news isn't great news.
Their agenda is to cut you down to their size,
to manipulate and control
to **** you over while they play the injured party.
Confront the bully. Speak up to the manipulator, the trickster, the backstabber.
but beyond a certain point
there is no point in arguing with them.
Don't try to change the toxic person. You can't.
You'd have better luck changing an orangutan into **** sapiens.
Only a shrink could change them, and then only if they hit rock-bottom.
Don't try to justify yourself. It's a waste of time which would only draw you deeper into their net.
Set boundaries to keep their negativity in check.
Stop trying to please them.
Let that toxic somebody in your life know you're onto them
and they can't get away with it anymore.
Don't fall into their trap, don't get caught up in their life-dramas
or try to get them out of trouble. Don't let them instill guilt in you.
But try not to take their toxicity personally.
Remember, it's them, not you. You are not to blame
though they desperately want you to feel you've done something wrong.
If necessary (and if possible), delete the toxic person from your life and move on.
Know when enough is enough.
Saying good riddance doesn't necessarily mean you hate them, it means
your own well-being comes first.
Immunize yourself. Preserve your inner strength.
Set your own rules.
And, when possible, just walk away.
Jul 11, 2017
Jul 11, 2017 at 2:23 AM UTC
thousands of kids enter the school
I crouch in the corner, trapped
my limbs shake and my heart races
my mom wants to buy a new purse
I shrink away, run to the door
my legs wont move but my mind runs
my best friend didn't call me back
does she need help? does she hate me?
my last meal is being flushed away
Generalized Anxiety
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 5:44 PM UTC
“isn’t it crowded in california?” people always ask me
but you should have seen the way it looked from the sky
expanses of empty valleys
mountains of uninhabited ridges
cities that i could touch with my fingertip
much like the stars in the dark night air
and green as far as the eye could see
the silver snow that dotted the land
reminding us not to forget about it
never had i been so far above that i could notice it all
always stuck in my corner of the universe
and you should have felt what i felt
knowing that there are still
areas of my heart that have yet to be
realized and explored and populated
by anyone who is not you
even though at one point
you occupied the spaces
the cracks in my chest and lungs and limbs
so much that i thought you were a piece of me
but the seasons change and so do people
so my winter will be drastically different than my summer
when you climbed out of my life and into another’s
and hearts break and shrink and expand
to make room for different hearts
(mine’s currently in the process of getting rid of you)
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 12:13 AM UTC
the sounds are there, they come through walls
right around the corner
they're not visual, they're miserable and in need
they're equal opportunity exhibitionists
lovers of a family get together, taking everything in
parasitic and aware, destitute and stuck
but they're also there at the wrong time
the wrong time for the person who's alone
the wrong time for a person who's disconnected
because they want to be enjoying peace and quiet
alone
by themselves in an old house
with summer outside making its noises, crickets
trees rustling under a jeweled sky, the pinnacle of up high
breathing in the home air of cannibus, lotion and food
being disturbed is far from a thought, but unavoidable
simultaneously
because the house has a strange history
the basement floods, and the machinery kicks in
the mind ponders as the constellations wander
the nights grow and shrink, the body is dry, bone dry
the shower is turned on, soap, shampoo
lost in the mind on autopilot
until the spine stiffens
its without a doubt that I'm not alone now
a minute ago i was the master of this house
a minute ago I was naked in the hallway, smoking a cigar
now I've been usurped and I just want to barricade myself
in this house that I've live in for 15 years, now i beg for permission
to stay just one more night
I beg because how could I possibly fight
It's my conscious or the pontius pilate
I hope it's the former, because if not, blowout the pilot light
There's little hope for re-ignition or stellar recognition
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 2:30 PM UTC
We all look forward to the snowdrops
The harbinger of spring
In many shades of white
Offtimes tinged with green
Beautiful, oh so beautiful
Sweeping swathes of green tinged white
But they shrink into nothingness
Against the aconite
Aconite of deepest gold
Brighter than the sun
Aconite the first to show
Amid deep winters gloom
When the aconite first does show
Bluetits start to flit and sing
You see it's not the snowdrop
Who is the harbinger of spring
Mar 12, 2015
Mar 12, 2015 at 8:42 AM UTC
I heard that he was insane
That his feelings were uncontrollable
I heard he committed suicide
It sounds so incredibly horrible
I heard he was seeing a shrink
I heard he thought he was fine
I heard he told him,
told him he could call anytime
but when he really needed him
He was declined.
I heard his father
he told him to be a man
He told him he couldn’t
and would never understand
I wonder has the guilt
swallowed him whole
I wonder will anything
fill his now empty soul
I heard his girlfriend she said goodbye
she was sick of the whines and all his cries
he said he didn’t need her
he needed no one
but in the end we all know he needed someone
I heard he did it with a gun
I wonder if it hurt
I heard he couldn't take it
All the pain and all the hurt
I heard he had a brother
a mother and a dad
I saw them at the funeral
they were bitter sweetly sad
I wonder does a tiger cry
when a brother loses his life
I wonder can you catch a tiger with a tear in its eye?
Oct 8, 2011
Oct 8, 2011 at 4:16 PM UTC
1.
Nymphomaniac-addicts,
Overweight bisexual vegetarians
Climbing trees to stay fit
and eating 80’s fried chicken *******
2.
just imagine
Aquarians full of class valedictorians
Swimming on display for graduation ceremony…
reverse-symbolism of how Moolch drowned His *****
3.
Better yet, just imagine
Holy wars,
Beautiful words written to describe the burning pains
Of holocaust...the Kristallnacht nights
Under the mistletoe,
Watching Hall of fame ball hawks on pivot toes
Driving through hoes
After the whistle blows
4
College Literacy classes teaching basic:
Ideas that good questions leads to good answers,
Reading reminders
Free association conceptual constructions
5.
But ************ professor:
free association **** shticks
misfires, false alarms
are all art, too,
Like sticking a dagger into an apple,
Not the edible, but the technology.
6.
Go head, deconstruct the philosophy
Of oral cute-tification,
according to the Tautology of Leviticus,
With the same three half truths, pogroms
against biological deviant... FLAGS!
7.
Cryptic gospels of a ************
Where three F.F.F’s
Stands for six six six
Like how 1mg of juxtaposition
And a dose of metamorphosis
is the repertoire of a king of curmudgeon
‘cause even the Holy Ghost
drinks from the cup of Christ’s blood.
8.
Reading,
Self-flagellation gospel-manual of Pope John Paul II,
At shrink sessions under the daze of heron Piper methysticum blunts
With sweet phat butts like lit lickerish that droop eyes
Like the psalm of Valeriana officinalis root extract.
Feb 12, 2012
Feb 12, 2012 at 12:46 PM UTC
I just feel so much guilt,
My words and actions built,
I know, what I did was wrong,
Tried to avoid it and be strong.
Following me has been the truth,
It was hurting like a tooth.
A second more, I could not deny,
Not apologising was a lie.
I'm sorry, from deep inside,
Clearly guilty, my hands are tied.
It was obviously, all my fault,
I have opened my inner vault.
I'm really sorry for my recent actions,
Selfishly searching for your reactions.
What I did wasn't kin,
I don't know what got into my mind.
Something wrong with my psychology,
From my heart I bring this apology.
I know there are no valid excuses,
Negative feelings arguments produces.
I'm really sorry, I truly care,
What I did was completely unfair,
Hope you forgive me over time,
I feel awful about my crime.
Please give me a chance to explain,
What I did was completely vain.
It was clearly way beyond rude,
Completely stupid, I must conclude.
I used words, I did not mean,
I need to stop-acting fifteen.
My actions and words, simply not right,
I'm sorry for my anger and spite.
Please give me a chance to explain,
There must be something wrong with my brain.
My emotions, I must learn to control,
And never hurt you, this is my goal.
I look in the mirror, feel so much shame.
It was my fault, I deserve all the blame.
Just don't know what I was thinking,
With all this shame, I feel like I'm sinking.
All the consequences, I completely deserve,
Can't imagine, where I found the nerve,
I just feel like the biggest fool,
What I did, was simply not cool.
Your forgiveness, I earnestly plead,
Without it, my heart won't be freed.
Please forgive me, I miss you so much,
Beautiful voice and your tender touch.
I agree, I was wrong,
Wish I could, sing a song,
I know you're are mad,
What I did was bad.
Nothing about it, I'm proud,
I was trying to impress the crowd.
Next time I should really thing,
Maybe even see a shrink
What I'm trying to say,
My love for you grow everyday.
We should never fight,
I need to hold you every night.
I've been lucky to have a girl like you,
I'm sorry if you only knew.
Feel so bad, for being so rude,
I'm sorry for messing up your mood.
I promise to treat you like a Queen,
I'm sorry for being so mean.
If only somehow, I could make things better,
This poem's from my heart, not just a letter.
Your inner and outer beauty amaze,
I'm sorry, for my crazy phase.
I wish to give you my entire heart,
Please forgive me, we could make new start.
Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 12:12 PM UTC
We are the girls who walk around with little bird bones,
rib cages ready to snap when we spread our wings and
fly away
and for my next act,
I shall disappear little by little until I am ash.
I’m not eating for four days or until
I can feel the ***** that is my stomach start to shrink
I used to refuse food for weeks
it amazes me how self-indulgent I have become
I am ready to eat spoonfuls of air
spin my hair into a models top knot and
know that water is a privilege not a right
a million screaming girls saying
“but im not hungry”
while a tiger flays their insides open at night
Kate Moss said "nothing tastes as good as skinny feels"
and I suppose she is correct
What happens when you learn the tongue is a muscle not to be used
What happens when sustenance is no longer needed
When the mind decides
the very thing that keeps the body alive is a punishment
What happens when you refuse a necessity of being human
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 9:57 AM UTC
downtown is
a much newer scene than even
i thought it’d be - i was
prepared to be
a novice. i was prepared to be
out of place. and this was
nothing, i could handle these
old odd eyes, i just
wasn’t ready to feel so
dropped in.
but i’d drawn a diagram
of this situation,
a different specific
(god ****
i can’t hear myself think)
why am i surprised to feel
so dropped in
when i’ve drawn it?
drawn upon it?
why am i surprised
that a new brand new
situation feels
just the same as the new situations
of before, when i’ve
had so many
that i can picture the the sensation
of my brain?
i’ve made a series of green lines
on a yellow, lined piece
of paper.
i’ve meant to take it
to my shrink for months.
once,
i had it in my purse and
my guts, when i entered,
decided to shrink.
i said
i was fine, and the same,
and i started to drop
the pills that stole my sleep
onto the streets.
it’s helped,
and i’m surprised. and my brain
feels more awake than
any other time
in the past
three
years…
so.
to which part of town
do i go to
from here?
Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 12:09 PM UTC
Sometimes,
Even when it's just for an instant,
I forget who I am.
I forget my name,
I forget when I was born,
I forget how I look,
I forget what year is this.
You see,
You get to a point in your life
Where none of this matter anymore.
That old song titled with your name
Doesn't seem so pretty as it did before
That old poem someone made to you
Doesn't make sense anymore.
You think "it's just not me,
but who am I?"
And you roll up in your bed,
And you try to mess with someone's head
Just to see if you still can.
And you spin your world upside down,
And you try to look everybody upside down.
Sometimes it's even better upside down.
Sometimes you find yourself in reverse.
And you reinvent yourself,
And you change your name,
And you change your birthdate,
And you change the color of your hair,
And you try to change who you are,
And not a bit is changed.
And then, again, you ask:
"Who am I?"
And you meet new people,
And you fall in love again,
And you think you know
Who you really are,
And then the world is
Upside down again.
And you give up,
And you try to live with yourself in reverse,
And you try to fall in love in reverse,
And you see how pointless it is,
And you're back to normal.
And then, what is normal?
And you give up on searching for the answers
And then you start to live.
And you meet someone,
Your life is changed.
It may be a shrink,
It may be a lover,
It may be a friend.
You just look at 'em
And you're home.
You find yourself
In desperation.
You find yourself
In happiness.
You find yourself
Anywhere, anytime.
It's just a surprising
Little scaring moment.
And you realize
There is so many interesting things in the universe
So many movies to watch,
So many music to listen,
Maybe some with your name in it,
So many dreams to live,
So many people to meet,
So many whatever to do.
And
all
that
search
was
pointless.
You don't have to be who your name tell you to be,
You don't have to be what your star sign is telling you to be,
So doesn't matter what is your name,
Doesn't matter when you were born,
Doesn't matter what year is this.
You don't have to be someone,
You don't even have to be yourself.
You just have to
be.
Feb 6, 2013
Feb 6, 2013 at 4:30 PM UTC
In as much as I tamed the Infidel
Baptism pokes her Holistic White Tongue
Such that if you try to flip the Role-Model
For which Hypocrisy had said and done
You do not know me. If Duty must care
And stand accused tackling my Man to like
Your Mass does not shrink me; And if you dare
Take a Pied Contest and taste the First Strike
Yet in fairness your Swan-Form does exist
As billed by Tom's Twin circled in craft
Now may I come in? Or should I resist
And Boot my *** on the Beach by the Draft?
Those Stripes were hostile from a Few Years Past
Enjoy Iberia Minor; Healing can last.
Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 12:46 AM UTC
By the evening when it covers the earth softly in a veil of darkness.
As all the colours change, from a bright inviting blue of the heavens,
now softening, losing their glow, as shadows fall beneath the Earth
When the last ray of sunlight has arrived the stars rise in order to claim the sky for themselves, as so does the moon, overshining them.
Vision may shrink due the lack of light, causing many to get anxious if they would have to travel throughout the arrival of the night.
The time to rest has been brought near, but some do choose to stay awake, gazing, observing, watching as the stars above them leave their gentle, slow and most importantly fascinating trail.
Thus for them, the lovers of this declining day, made it their mission to stay awake and admire all the beauty the night serves them.
A time of charming for those who share love, for those who have engaged themselves in the sweet embrace of slumber.
As time goes on I lose myself in this wandering fragnance, until the light of the sun, manages to greet me for a fresh day.
~ Umi
Feb 20, 2018
Feb 20, 2018 at 9:12 AM UTC
My hair comes out but I stay true
It is unreliable, like you
I can pull it, twist it, I feel no pain
But I don't see what I then gain
You moved me and shaped me like I was your clay
I didn't complain, though my fabric would fray
I was too scared of going astray
The way you think makes me shrink
And still, I sink
So I'm falling
But conversation is stalling
Faraway voices calling
I stumble away, crawling
I look bad, but I don't feel so
First time for that, I know
Everything I say and do,
I was kept in line by you
And it's weird knowing someone so well
But feeling like you're under their spell
Yet nothing you do makes me afraid
Even though I'm in your charade
A masked ball, can I recall
Your face without fear?
When the fog becomes clear
Will you stop being austere?
Or return to your old ways, a smirk for your 'dear'
Like my hair, you are there,
But I can't make myself care.
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 6:08 PM UTC
If I were a witch; I'd cast a spell,
And put an end to lies men tell.
I wouldn't enchant their ****** nose,
But the place from where ***** flows.
I'd raise my wand, purse my lips,
And call the World to witness this,
*"When men lie without a flinch
Their ***** shall shorten by an inch
And if they try to spin a tale
Their ***** shall, decrease in scale
And if they raise a deceitful stink
Lo and behold, their **** will shrink
Every time they make up lies
Their ***** will contract in size"*
Making a molehill out of a mountain,
Will affect their natural fountain.
And planet Venus in the sky will look bigger than the ***** in their fly.
They will have to altogether give up lying if they don’t want their manhood dying
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 3:45 AM UTC