Her cheating on me is not what I fear.
Good men are mistreated everywhere.
It's the loathing I'd feel if it came to a fact
That she lusted and loved behind my back

That I fear -as should she; it's beyond my control-
It would tear us to pieces and swallow us whole.
To see what you treasured as holy and strong
Hang slain from a rope one last lie long.

The concept of cheating; I spit in its face.
It sickens me how it would see her erazed.
Goddess to garbage in one-two-three...
I'm praying that she remains faithful to me.

Your prayers and thoughts
  are not sufficient.
Tweeting and posting self-indulgent
  *******; you are shallow
and your not-so-subtle
  political agenda sickens me.

The President said we should unite,
  despite a year of trying to divide us.
Although, he doesn't need to say much
  because all we've ever masturbated to
is one country for all...
  except for people we don't like.

I am caught in a web where
  each strand is a headline;
where every attempt to be free
  pulls me deeper in; where
the spider is me and you
  and you and me; where
I am eaten by myself.

  I tell myself to not care
-- it never works.

Her smile lights up the room
Her style catches every eye
Her very presence demands you
But it's all just a sick lie

Her purple-green highlights
That streak in her hair
Hide her prominent grays
Like she would care

The stress of her over perfection
Causes her to abuse her body
It makes her crave more
Makes her judgement, shoddy

Why is the journey for perfection?
So self destroying
Why is she doing this to her self?
So annoying

She forces a smile, a smirk
A laugh, a grin, even a wink
She isn't brave enough to reveal it
Reveal that she's at the very brink

She's close to insanity
Her minds slowly dying
Her heart is growing cold
Why am I even trying?

Trying to save this girl
Saving her with all my heart
It sickens me that I care
It tears my insides apart

It's like walking down a winding road
That circles around and around
I can't escape this path
Failure was probably in bound

Yet I can't escape this feeling
This feeling to keep on going
I can't believe that I'm doing this
Her heart is barely even showing

I guess I'm stuck on this path
A path made of gravel and sharp rock
Even though I can see the end clearly
This dead-end journey, I must walk

You send me gifts,
You send me cards,
You sign it with a kiss,
But this is not love.

You send me emails,
Tell me to write back,
I do yet dad never replies,
This is not love.

You belittle me,
Mock me,
Humiliate me,
This is not love.

Your words torture me,
You think its ok to hit me,
You justify your cruelty,
This is not love.

I have tried to explain,
I have never blamed you,
I needed the distance,
This is not love.

You dont listen to me,
You turn family against me,
You are ashamed of me,
This is not love.

You blame me,
You shame me,
You will never accept me,
This is not love.

You go behind my back,
Telling people you want to help,
Yet you only ever scold me,
This is not love.

You refused to listen,
Just continued to blame,
Telling me its not good enough,
This is not love.

Others have tried to tell you,
You are making me sick,
But still you will not have it,
This is not love.

Everything that happens to me,
How you would abuse me,
You can only show anger,
This is no love.

You have pushed me so far,
That i've lost my mind,
I've lost all hope,
This is not love.

I have had patience with you,
Told you I understand you,
Yet still its never enough,
This is not love.

You want me to visit,
You will pay me to visit,
Pay to make me more sick...
This is not love.

After I was assaulted,
Your anger was relentless,
The blaming, the shaming,
This is not love.

Screaming and shouting down the phone,
I was forced to listen, I had no control,
Telling me id caused so much damage, made people sick..
This is not love.

All I got from you,
Was yet more torture,
More abuse, no empathy,
This is not love.

Ever since that day Ive known,
You cannot be my mother,
I cant treat anyone like you did,
This is not love.

I cannot understand,
What it must be like,
To have zero compassion,
This is not love.

You tortured me before,
Then you tortured me more,
Now you want me to come back?
This is not love.

Mum - I do not hate you,
And I mean you no harm,
But you have caused so much damage,
This is not love.

I am certainly not perfect,
And neither are you,
But i'd never want to hurt someone,
This is not love.

You see ive studied narcissism,
Ive dedicated so much time,
Trying to understand you,
Reaching the same conclusions time again.

I know its not your fault,
I will never blame you,
But you simply will not understand,
That I cannot love you.

All you've done is prove me right,
Though for a long time I doubted myself,
You made me doubt on purpose...
Mum - this is not love.

You are a textbook narcissist,
Im sorry if you think im wrong,
You rejected my suggestion of getting help...
This is not love.

After I was *****,
I knew you'd react that way,
Yet your anger still sickens me,
It sickens me to this day.

It proved to me once and for all,
That you can never be my mother,
Maybe we could be friends one day,
But you are not my mother.

Mum we have no bond,
We never have had one,
All you've shown me is disgust,
This is not love.

Others may be on your side,
I've read up on that too,
You hurt me to your own advantage,
This cannot be love.

Im not trying to hurt you,
Disrespect you, or anyone else,
Im only now protecting myself,
For what we have...is not love.

You turned all those I love against me,
But thats what narcissists do,
Im not the only victim you know,
And I do know your love is not true.

I am sorry mum,
It is all I can say,
We both need to fix ourselves,
Then maybe we can meet someday.

But after all this abuse,
I am sorry to say,
That I do not love you,
This is not love mum, I now see clear as day.

Im tired mum
Please let me go....

Take care **

Mostly, it sickens me that
our notes sent back and forth are
measurably more pleasant than conversation
We share in person.

I bet that paper lotus is gone.

Interchanged sentence fragments
both homeopathic and calculated by lamplight.

I bet that bookmark is still in the same place.

Even comparing you to Ivan would be a stretch,
Who are we kidding.
Dmitri.
But that’s still not the name I call you ante meridiem.

I bet Freud was right, but I never called myself a boy.  

A . Eb.  Six steps.  
Slonimsky dedicated so many pages to you.

I guess I will distill the Ocean
for salt.    

I can’t say any of this to you,
the most honest I’ll ever be
is in a poem I hope you’ll never read.

it sickens me;
the lack of correction
in grammar,
in punctuation,
in style,
and in titling.

it disgusts me;
the apathy
and support
that go along with
spilling any idea
out; vulnerability
shouldn't be praised,
as it should be sculpted
and shaped, communally.

Godhood sickens me,
set my hands ablaze,
free my brain,
I want to cry no more,
I always had trouble holding my *****,
be an Angel.

Sometimes the searing sharpness of cynicism is required;
The acid, eye -watering lemon zest of fact
Piercing
The soft underbelly
Of platitudes, niceties, clichés, pleasantries and delusions.
The sweet smile offset by the glint in the eye,
The raise of an eyebrow or the hint of a frown
Won't do it.

Slivers of sycophancy stick in the teeth
And globules of gratuitous grovelling make one gag.
Swimming in warm soapsuds makes the skin shrivel
And the body longs for the cold shock of sea and salt.

Slick smoothness sickens like melting ice cream
and pretty politeness can seem
Pretty pointless
In the icy blast of a down turn.
Whipped up enthusiasm is just that -
A lot of hot air.

Oil the wheels, grease the palm, slick back the hair,
Stick on the smile, fix the grin, paint the slap.
Nothing sounds too well held in place;
All ready to slide off, leaving  the raw expression of bewilderment
In the face of reality

Summer grows old, cold-blooded mother.
The insects are scant, skinny.
In these palustral homes we only
Croak and wither.

Mornings dissipate in somnolence.
The sun brightens tardily
Among the pithless reeds. Flies fail us.
he fen sickens.

Frost drops even the spider. Clearly
The genius of plenitude
Houses himself elsewhwere. Our folk thin
Lamentably.

Some men make me worry
Degrading treatment towards women seems to be ok
On their behalf I would like to say sorry
This kind of bahaviour needs to stop today

As a guy it sickens me
The sheer amount of disrespect
Rating women, calling them a lousy three
Something in your head must be defect

The other day I heard a colleague say
Don't worry about their names
I'm saving them by the codes
Each letter leading me on different roads

"S" means hot, "X" is for a one time use
I was aghast, no I was shocked
In my opinion this is resembling abuse
After that further chat had to be blocked

A dark day for a believer of human dignity
No human should be reduced to an object
Fellow men, stand up when facing this immorality
This is a wrong we need to correct

I am the rat that escaped from all of these
Bottled diseases. The flash eating organisms that have wasted the others.
But I was unable to escape the memories, the scars,
And the aftermath. I still have the sickness; the antibiotic did not complete
It's process of healing. The caress of chemicals
Inside of my bloodstream did not satisfy the lust for life I had always suffered through.

Never have I seen a light other than the fluorescents hanging above the steel table
As they dissected my friends. They only ones I have ever seen alive.
The factory settings of their decomposition have been restarted and they erode as if
Made of dust. They basically are at this point.

The rustling of papers sickens me, recording everything the scientists see; they study us
Under a microscope. They smell of rust and sawdust, old and crippled. Cruel.
They keep us in glass boxes and torture us with everything we fear.

I have this indisposition you see,
a hunger.
One that is never satisfied.

I try so hard to hold my tongue,
But I watch as every word escapes me.
So clever and cunning a tool.

It is as if, just for a moment,
This entity takes form,
Its reach, weaving through
The deep tissues of my brain.

My body reacts.

Why? What is the point?
This incessant need to be vindicated.
It sickens me to think about it.

I hate you

The sum of all my being can't describe this anxious resentment 
I have towards you

Its not that I'm being obsessive

I can get over you easily

Its what you did that I can't stand

You and your Hippocratic oath

And nonchalant  pessimism

Do you know how much I cared

Can you even conceive what you did

.....of course not

And you're not sorry for it either  

For the most part

In your mind

You did nothing wrong at all

I guess snakes don't feel bad when they constrict mice to pop and stay and that position till its heart stops then gorges itself without chewing

What a circle of life

But why me

What satisfaction did doing what you did make it ok

Is this humanity

Ever memory now scrapes at me

Atleast I can see the signs

To avoid another like you

Even though it's not so simple

You sickening peace of ****

You don't belong

You've taken a piece and given me something I didn't want in the first place

Now every time I see you smile

Or see you 

Even a picture

Or a phrase that sickens me to the point

Drugs are my only salvation

Just to keep the pain away

Just to take the pain away

But that doesn't matter

It never will


So on those nights when I ache in my chest in curl in a ball and wonder if I  can let go or pay you back

I wish sweet dreams to the ones you haven't hurt 

And it is as my face appears

It is mangled underneath by acid tears

Dear Principal brain dead
with a hollowed out head !
with tears coming home more often than not!
Your lame dead brain dead excuse to not move my daughter to a
gentle spoken teacher rather than always ready with attack mode 0n teacher!

Dearest Brain deadest one
unfortunately this is you principal Valentine!!!
With rage my volcanic anger stirs the teachers cauldron;
Most likely she hates us by now but I haven't anything to lose
I have to remove her yet another year cause last year you
chose to turn off your F'ing listening ears!!

Dearest Brainless heartless Principal of Errol Hassell
back up your staff 110% don't give in or buckle for last year
I gave them the stiff shoulder and now a 2nd time so lets see
just how far they will go this time around? Well Brainless  itch
you can bet we are not threw, still at work behind the scenes to get her out from under your reigns but your blocking it which I think is insane.

But not a shocker being you love to lie and state one liners to shut a parent down
but what you don't realize I am not the stoppin ' Kind ; So go inside your so called school and run it like the cavalier fool that you have become over time letting down children  repeatedly , Who is clearly having personality clashes with the teacher and it is absurd the words you spoke to us saying Kids talk and this and that for being the reason you will not just simply move her to the teacher~>~~>>>

We know she is comfortable with & this is not a matter of Hide the crime don't do the time !! This is a real legit matter! So take your falseness and leave us alone,
help us to leave it as well , Give us a push to get out of your hair but the truth is you don't want to have to supply a reason so local schools ban together to protect thee other so your @$$3$ are what matters most for you not risking your job for just another parent, Just another Student!!

Brain Dead Fool of a Principal who has zero!
She is cool calm an collected while destroying your hope
for your child's safety and this is no Joke.

So when a fellow teachers who reply or people who love family or friend who are  teachers too or they once had please take a step back and a try a realistic approach to thinking while reading my words as the reality of this grows & that there are Cruel teachers that live inside schools some young some old and weathered all they know now to do is Scold Scold Scold!!! Be gone with you little annoying student of mine' because I am angry at the whole class I will choose to pick on you this time! You have study hall for the millionth time!!!

Holding power whether for good reason or
Just to be a b*ch to a kid to pay them back for what they did or didn't do!
This school sickens me also allowing kids to label themselves a pack of 4 boys
who go by "The smarties" for me this is repulsive to ignore causing in others a feeling of Less especially since the teacher gives them most of classtime privilege's and lets them boss the students around on what to do or simply they say to others
" Your not a Smartie!!"  already started age 9 is all such a vulnerable age and being let down by adult authoritative figure and choosing not to protect and be wise to show my girl she is cared about and not denied of her experiences??!!

Is this not enough for you to have instilled inferior fear inside my daughter? Cant you see you failed her and now she feels scared and weary of adults
not trusting and this is because of you
                                            Dearest Brain Dead Principal.

Sometimes the facts
Just hit you in the face
And all is silent
Even the accusations
Of your detractors
As in horror
You realize the truth
The sobering, humbling
Honest-to-goodness truth
It kinds of stuns
And sickens you
For awhile
As you realize
The advice
Was not an attack
But an observation
Of behaviours
Of which you were not aware
You see
You chose to smash the mirror
That portrayed
Such an unflattering image
It never occurred to you
That they
Whoever they were
Were right

I can't stop thinking about you
the things we did together
And it hurts
It hurts to not be with you
It hurts to not hold you
It hurts to not kiss you
It hurts to not be able to cry in your arms
I know that we were good together
But I wasn't happy
As we are apart though I am still not
Happy
I'm terriffied of being alone
of people hating me
of people leaving me
even the very thought of it
makes me anxiuos and panic
But you still calm me
even if it is only the thought of you
I still think of you
and it sickens me a bit
because I want to be my own person
I don't want to rely on others
I want to stop thinking about you
because it hurts
And I know
I can't stop thinking about you

ashes covered them all
the petals of the rose fall off rather quickly
when poison sickens all
leaving the people and the animals in
a corner, crumpled and smiling weakly.

the State seemed to have lost its mind
no one knew of what was to come
they were forever left behind
they tried to hold in the child’s laugh
the mother’s joy
the father’s grin
the baby’s squeal
they tried to encase it all in a metal dome

it may keep the poison out
but what about those who stood there before?
what about those who’s cells faced drought
who’s lovers were left behind
who’s children were left to die
what about the poison that has sunk into the pores
of generations and many more to come

the disease is long-standing;
thirty years is simply a blink of an eye
for the monster lurking nearby
slowly drowning
slowly suffocating
into the ground, where it will begin to **** more

and still, the city is coated in thin ash
as the sky dies
and the buildings rot
and the occasional visitor cries not for the destruction
but for her sister
who contracted the Poison not too long before the dome
she was paler when she came home
her smile faded as she came home


the city was paler when i came home

just a few years after.

I am yours, but only in moments
Intense and startling like flash bulbs
Blinding and dazing
Leaving the dark blacker than before

Like laughing at carnivals
Never entirely wholesome
Over-saturated like cotton *****
So sweet it sickens in delight

Onslaught. ******. Overmuch
It is the opposite of life
Drab and drooling
Enter the delirium

Which you crave. It is ****
Unadorned, unlike dreams
Which detour you from love
In its absolute form. Click.

I'm sick.
Sick of wishing. Of loving. Of praying.
Sick of falling every time I climb.
Sick of bleeding out everything I have to get your attention.
I'm tired.
Tired of faking enthusiasm just so you think I'm happy.
Tired of crawling out of bed every morning
knowing today's not my day, and my chance will never come.
I'm done.
Done with love. Done with you.
Done fighting with my heart. It's gotten me absolutely nowhere.
And I'm done standing still.
I'm not.
Not looking back at a world that once existed just for us.
It's burned to the ground now. And it will never exist again.
It sickens me to say, that era is over.
And I'm moving on with all I have.
This time it's my choice.
You no longer control me.
I'm armed and ready to face
attack.
My heart and soul have been shielded
by an aware mind.
Think I'm still blind?
Come at me...see if I cave.
I guarantee you will be let down
by false weakness on my part.

The Quantum anthem sets off the spark of enchantment as I file through things only thought
All borrowed and blurred belligerence baffling beauty, things only sought.
Spiraling sickens the surging of those who surrender their sudden sorrow for meaning to flutter.
Herds of things unheard splurge in cinematic combs fastened by fertility
Charred remembrances burn deep as feelings bleed
Bursting boundless solidifying into expression
Without it battles of head and heart oppression
Redirecting rising ripples focused forward
Onward and steady swaying as my doubt is fading
Curtains close the colossal conundrum crystalizing in my veins
Setting off distant delirium  
Honeycomb harbor home
We are not alone
We are not alone

My home has been invaded.
Not by the usual suspects.
Instead, by the ravenous locusts of judgement.
Of the "I told you so's" and not good enough's.
A territorial plague that infests the very structure of molecules.
Never has a room so full felt so empty.

They digest.
Devouring the fabric of electron bonds
To where the air itself is heavier than water

And my lungs choke,
Desperate for smoke.
The condescending eyes,
The pollution of a space I once called mine.
A space once pristine has now
Festooned itself in patternous greed
Where opinion is paragon before law
And the laws once laid
Leave a cavitated wake
As they lay helpless by the wayside
Waiting for a passer-by
To claim the unclean deed
And draw away what sickens me

The raw and busted hide
Plays brave but cracks to the festering wound
Of unbridled, wild pride.
So strong are those that sit on perceived thrones
That even in another's home
Basic courtesies are considered contrived.

And the sickness soaks
Deep in the bones
Of the worn and weary
We should all hope to press without due regard

Circle, circle
Evil and monotonous
Everyone around here does the same **** thing
Day after day
Sit in a cubicle
Make babies, program them to be
Your little robots
To grow up to be
Real life mean girls
Or homophobic jocks
The kids whom you could only hope to be
Or the ones you hated.
Living in a world
Where no teenager needs to work
Everyone gets what they want
Daddy can buy you a car, a house, college
The whole **** world, have it your way
You buy drugs, throw huge parties
Because you can
Your sense of entitlement sickens me to the core
So when someone different comes along
Someone who isn't on the "Barbie Diet"
Someone who doesn't wear heavy makeup, or Hollister size double zero
Someone who doesn't live in a palace
Someone who has to work if they want things
Other than necessities
How do you respond?
Shun, backstab, gossip
Wishing they would care
At least, that is what I have experienced
In the magical world of Suburbia

I once met a viking girl,
who hailed from Norway.
I usually wouldn't have bothered,
but there was something special about her
I couldn't fully grasp.
It was like some weight had been lifted
to relieve my tired body
of it's former failings.

There was a magic she could wield,
some massive dreadnought of power
she kept sheathed in ornate leather.
Sometimes, when she was nervous,
her fingers would brush it's scabbard,
tracing the embossed symbols,
unaware of what she was doing.
And then this longing would overtake her,
leaving her eyes vacant,
momentarily...
As if her vessel had been abandoned
as she expanded
well beyond it's threshold.

During these brief moments
when she'd slip away,
I saw things I couldn't explain.
A furnace of starlight,
encased deep in the Norwegian ice,
alongside the warships of her ancestors.
Usually well-guarded,
out of habit
or necessity.

Before I was consumed entirely
she returned from her reverie,
tearing me away
from that solace.

I wonder now
if she was aware
of what happened.
Those secret woodlands
will haunt me
long after I've gone.
Long after life has left me,
and into the outstretched arms of eternity
and the worlds that follow.
And like some dream,
it still escapes me..
how so much beauty
can be reserved
and contained.

It sickens me to know
that what I'll remember most
was the physical form she'd taken,
and not the things
that truly mattered.
Not the magic she used
to tear me asunder,
wide open and spilling..
helpless in it's radiance.
Not the gentle breeze
that expanded from her wake
as she passed me.

Because it's easier
to be shallow.
It's easier
to forget.

Baby, I long for your precarious love
And I crave your dangerously familiar taste
That lingers in the air, polluted by you  
Oh…How I miss your suicidal kiss
….
It’s unfortunate but times have changed
Your presence sickens me
And I am done with you
My beloved nicotine

There was no way
No way to know
Weather or not you'd be different
If you'd be smart
Actually know what you're doing
Turns out I was wrong
You are just as clueless
Just as stupid
I'm left thinking once again
I could easily do your job
You have experience of 13 years
I've only been here for a little over a year
Yet I fear for your future
A mindless zombie
A dog looking for acceptance
It sickens me greatly
But I don't say much
I just sit back
Watch the day go by
As the manager looks like a headless chicken

I laughed when I was faced with death,
Sometimes I think it was my test.
But did I pass or did I fail?
Am I on the victor trail?

Is this the life of he who won?
Or is this just how I come undone?
A frivolous and pathetic life,
Is that the path I carved that night?

Did I somehow lose myself,
Choosing to die for someone else?
Or was it right, to let them die,
While I watched and stood idly bye?

No, I think, I made the right choice.
I listened to that destructive voice.
The one that told me to jump ahead,
Knowing it that I could soon be dead.

For in that choice my power came,
The fearlessness and focused aim.
The laugh that stood as a shield before,
Still remains to stand strong once more.

I love that I chose to die,
Not for myself, but those at my side.
I love knowing I chose that death,
That I chose to stand in for someone else.

I love the glory, I loved the fame,
I love the memory of him taking aim.
It feeds the demon that is my pride,
It nourishes the bravado that I feel inside.

People look at me as though I am more,
Something beyond what I was before.
Some think me a hero, others say insane,
But it feels ******* great that they know my name.

Perhaps I'll put it on my resume,
"I once stood and laughed death away."
Then again, they would make me explain,
And that would only just bring up the pain.

Because I hate that night,* the way it went.
I hate that even one casing was spent.
I hate that luck is why I survived,
I hate that it wasn't some quality of mine.

It sickens me that I chose death,
That I willingly elected to take that step.
I did not want to die.
I am thankful that death passed me by.

I am thankful of whatever power or might,
Saved they and I on that February night.
Whether chance or fate, I won't ask why,
But I am glad his bullet passed me by.