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Karissa Sep 2017
Sociopath.   One who feels no empathy, no sympathy, no emotion.
Sociopath.   Not understanding wrongful actions, only pleasing one's satisfaction.

Sociopath.   Living without truly caring.. what is the purpose?
Sociopath.   Living a lie, its all just pretentious.

Sociopath.   Selfishness at its finest, a confidence so strong.
Sociopath.   Peace of mind, sinful bliss, morality gone.

Sociopath.   Having no shame, no guilt, no conscience.
Sociopath.   A devil within, feeding the monster, entertaining one's concupiscence.

Sociopath.   Evil, Deceitful, Lethal.
Sociopath.   Probably me, living amongst you people.
Purcy Flaherty Jan 2018
Initially she began contacting me over the course of a year or so and increasingly over the last few months she started visiting me, helping me, caring for me and occasionally employing me in different ways.

She’d just had a break up a few weeks before, explaining that things hadn’t been right in the relationship for some time!

She presents herself as respectful, thoughtful, gentle, kind and considerate and after what seemed to be a very short length of time; unexpectedly declared that she had feelings for me; regarding love, admiration, desire and some other adventures.

She then began to bombarded me with love talk; occupying around 70% of my time gaining my trust, I was swept off my feet; she took a great deal of interest in me, learning everything about me, what I liked, where I would go, always asking what I was thinking feeling, how she could help and I was flattered and she was charming, though a little awkward at times.

As our friendship grew she started sharing her back story, including some tragic life experiences; she vilified her past lovers, and ex-partners and branded them as crazy, or bitter liars and troubled souls; slowly gaining my sympathy, whilst securing my allegiance, and keeping me on side; keeping me close; drawing on my compassion loyalty & trust!

During intimate moments she would sometimes seem a little awkward, false, over enthusiastic, or a little insincere and I made allowances for this given my knowledge of her backstory. Re: (The tragic life events & experiences)

She began to choose and buy me clothes; outfits, take me shopping, gradually altering my outward image and appearance.

She introduced me to her friends; but was careful to keep me and them at arms-length, I realise now that she was building an alternative profile of me in their minds and that the people she introduced to me rarely exhibited the behaviours or characteristic that I was led to expect.

She soon started to embroil me in her own rituals and compulsive behaviour’s, explaining that tasks needed to be performing in very specific ways to prevent her getting distressed!

She made many promises : ‘The hook’ It was my expectation i.e. waiting for some of those promises to materialise that kept me hanging on; This increased her control and exited her too. (None of her promises came to fruition!)

She gradually had a hand in almost every aspect of my life i.e. my home, my work, my friends, family, my finances, the way I dressed, the food I ate and many other things besides, much of which I didn’t realise until our relationship was finally over.

She often took immense pleasure in duping, individuals or companies out of something through theft, shoplifting, or getting something for nothing, a profiteer, a chancer!

To question or challenge her authority would result in seeing her façade slip and watch her decline into meltdown. It's at that point, she would lose composure, and I would see her irrationality come to the fore; revealing the real person underneath; childish, contrived and very fragile; It’s as if control is the glue that holds her together, without it she just falls apart, during this time she can’t be consoled and it’s impossible to calm this escalating situation; in fact at this point that she would attempt to regain control by ‘gas-lighting’ me, she would distort the truth; who said what; in an attempt to damage my self-esteem, to make me question my own mind, my words, my intention and any actions, apportioning blame, pointing fingers, making me feel guilty, use rejection, or using hurt, sorrow, tears, shame and even threaten liable or legal action, and then use *** to pacify or regain control over me and my actions.

These episodes would appear often; though irregular and without provocation, I would always be deemed at fault! I found silent compliance was less stressful than engaging in discussion.    

She never took responsibility or made any apologies for her conduct.

She would set me tasks and go out a lot and lie or bend the truth as to where she had been; I never challenged this behaviour!

When the relationship was finally deemed over! I was both devastated and relieved.

I began to see my new position in the cycle; as she immediately begin to vilify me in order to give credence to her new backstory, I felt very confused, disorientated and emotionally fraught, shell shocked! questioning, how much of our relationship was true and how much was a lie? For everything I thought I knew was now knitted together with a very complex web of loyalties, lies and half-truths.

Her pattern of repetitive and controlling behaviours have seemingly remained unchanging throughout all her relationships!; (I know! as I was contacted by many of her previous partners and other casualties since I shared this account.)

Within two weeks of being apart she told me that she had fallen in love (My replacement) someone she’d had her eye on for some time, some-one she admires, someone kept in the background, a friend a mutual acquaintance, and thanked me for bringing them together.
The grooming of her new lover would have come about in exactly the same way as previously described. It's her M.O. (Her pattern of behaviours, her techniques have remained fixed.)

She’s incredibly self-conscious, her biggest fear is that other people will find out about her true demeanour, her image and appearance is everything to her. She's afraid that people will shun her for being so very different. She is a wolf, that’s not a malevolent creature par-say; but you don’t want to be her pray.

Full circle:
I too have joined the ranks of the discredited; labelled a liar, troubled, bitter and crazy. (I Know this because secretly contacted members of my, family, friends and some fellow musicians; and they shared these conversations with me.) I suspect that she may even attempt to vilify me with authorities or threaten some form of legal action; as she has to others in the past!

I'm still drawn to her despite my knowledge of her sociopathic nature, and all the things that go with it, her charismatic boldness, her ****** power and her Svengali like intelligence.

I’ve had to block all means of contact and cut her off entirely to curtail my pathological interest, for despite everything that’s transpired, her lies, her infidelity, her deceit and appalling behaviour, I feel no malice towards her; quite the opposite, I'm drawn, intrigued, bewitched, beguiled by the person hiding underneath the façade!

Now the dust has finally settled; I’ve somehow remained sound of mind, and I don’t feel guilty anymore; I’m aware that I’ve been manipulated into thinking and acting in ways that don’t truly represent my character; and that I’m just one of many people seduced by a sociopath.

She’s just another natural human variant , an attractive person devoid of empathy for others, that’s developed a narrow set of skills and mirroring behaviours, that allows her to blend into mainstream society in order to feel safe, secure and in control.

She would have preferred to keep me hanging on, like many other dependants, adding me to the hareem; a bank of beguiled individuals that she occasionally calls upon to perform simple tasks, or to simply monitor and re-assess her handwork.

The last time I saw her she opened with nervous politeness and finished with veiled cruelty, I left feeling drained, uncomfortable and quite fazed.

I’ve written this account to help further understand what had transpired during this complicated relationship, I’m not sure publishing this account will be useful as to others.

But I’ve not mentioned any names; and at any rate the next person targeted; will ignore any pre-warnings as just bitter ramblings, and most individuals are driven by the natural pursuit of love, *** and romance rather than following advice of some seemingly bitter ex.

Bittersweet! The reason you and I might attract the attention of a sociopath is because we shine like stars; stars are both attractive and further enhance the image and status of the sociopath and the people around them; a sociopath will orbit a shiny star and use its energy to slingshoting into a larger more attractive orbit, either stealing a bit of its shine or destroy it in the process; To these people love, *** and desire is simply a tool for manipulation and gain.

Expect high drama.
She loves to watch you *** unstuck!
Cedric McClester Jan 2016
By: Cedric McClester

Locked down nineteen hours
Five hours he plays
That’s the way the prisoner
Whiles away his days
On death row for the murders
Of his wife and son
Locked in a four foot nine cell
For the crime he’s done

Four years down and counting
See I’ve done the math
It’s death by lethal injection
For that sick sociopath

Decomposing and headless
In San Francisco Bay
He said she was missing
But she was found that way
His son’s lifeless fetus
Had previously washed ashore
Which repulsed everyone
Even that much more

Four years down and counting
See I’ve done the math
It’s death by lethal injection
For that sick sociopath

Her family were all hoping
She’d be found alive
Though he knew she was dead
He feigned concern (what jive)
She was weighted down
Which made him quite convinced
That she’d never be found
Floating in that rinse

Four years down and counting
See I’ve done the math
It’s death by lethal injection
For that sick sociopath

While they were contemplating
Their poor loved one’s fate
His only concern was
Which chick he should date
See he had to satisfy
An internal itch
But karma is a mother for ya
It can be a *****

Four years down and counting
See I’ve done the math
It’s death by lethal injection
For that sick sociopath

Four years down and counting
See I’ve done the math
It’s death by lethal injection
For that sick sociopath

Four years down and counting
See I’ve done the math
It’s death by lethal injection
For that sick sociopath

Cedric McClester, Copyright (c) 2016.  All rights reserved.
Wednesday Aug 2015
He was Daniel Kingery to the police.

Daniel Overstreet to his friends.

He was Dollar Dan on the streets.

He was Daniel,
he was wet rough kisses and anger and lust to me.

He found me one day,
18 years to his 37,
he found me when i was still a question mark trying to bleed red.
From behind a lens pointed at my naked flesh
he became a man of mystery,
he became the object of my desires.

I was a young, naive girl who got caught up in
how his pockets were always full- he flaunted it.
The flowers and the exotic dinners and the alcohol and the touch...
oh god, the way we fell into bed,
onto chairs,
into walls.

Then i fell in love on a broken sidewalk.

I was blind to the empty shadows in his eyes,
to the lines he had recited,
to the webs on his face.

I made a god out of a sociopath and i called him "love".

I was his ******, his baby blue.

I became wild under his touch,
manic when he gave me his attention,
suicidal at his leaving.

I was a flower that once was his favorite,
but he left me on the windowsill at a slow, burning wilt
and forgot to water me most days.

Why water a flower when you could have a garden?

Have you ever hated what you loved
until even their existence ate at you?

I have.
Leo Jan 2016
i've lied my whole life
writing love poems
and pretending to fall in love
and pretending to care
just to hide this


they say i'm a monster
they call me the devil
i didn't ask for this

just because i can't feel for you
doesn't mean i can't feel.
Sara Kellie Sep 2018
(Part 1, The Engagement)

Draw blood, draw blood for me.
Not with a crayon, do it with a knife.
Show me that you mean it, you need me in your life.
Tell me that you love me and need me always near.
Surrender all suggestion, your purpose and your fear.

(Part 2, The Controller)

Why, that's a lovely dress but why you wear it here?
I'm sitting with friends, we're trying to have a beer.
You make me ******* mental and I know, you know!
Now ring a ******* taxi, get in it and just go!

(Part 3, The Victim)

Hey baby baby, I missed you so tonight.
You know how I hate it when we
You don't know why you make me mad
and then you'll cry like I've done
You need to work out what you
but don't dare tell me that we're through.
I haven't done a single thing and all
this **** is down to you.

Poetry by Kaydee.
sheri May 2015
Folds, fur, creases and greases on your clothes
Have you had a nice breakfast?
No, no, it doesn't seem so.
You've had a bad day since you've risen from your bed.
Your hands are shaking and don't even notice it,
Probably because of the nicotine hidden in the left pocket of your jacket.
Ahh! Shut up! You were thinking! It's annoying!
Get out! Get out! I need to go to my mind palace!
Also, if you think that I'm a psychopath,
I'm just a high-functioning sociopath.
With your number! -smiles-

Oh, John Watson? You've got a limp from your last war from Afghanistan.
Your hand stays steady when you're suspicious or feel like you're being threatened.
Hmm, you like the battlefield, don't you, John?
Ahh, you can be my colleague! Come on, John!
Wait, what? Who are you?
The name's Sherlock Holmes and I live on 221B Baker Street.
And, I'm a consulting detective who uses,
*The Science of Deductions
A quick-written poem just for fun.
Tommy Johnson Jan 2015
The Cut-up cut out and cut down The Middle man then cut in while he and his date were dancing
He tried to strike up a conversation but struck out when she struck down upon him blows of reigning rejection

Now The Psychopath and The Sociopath are at odds

The Psychopath thinks The Sociopath is sloppy and his ideas have no longevity

The Sociopath thinks the Psychopath is just having growing pains and need to learn to live a little

The Psychopath was born into this, but the Sociopath was born onto it

The onset of calculated impulses

Contain yourself
Control yourself

Looking at it from an ethnocentric point of view
Entertain the idea that you may be the antisocial one
Humor me on this one
Would a smart person waste hard earned money on an "I'm with Stupid" t-shirt?

Postulate the theory that their are six degrees of separation
That you are a few hellos to someone who is a friend of a friend every way you turn
And that person may or may not rupture the cycled path you've been treading

Told to be prompt
To have good posture
To do regular pruning to our appearances and keep them up
But price and participation always vary

Is it a tad underwhelming or did I speak too soon?
Was it lost in translation?
It's called acorn theory

Not what you came with
Not where you came to
Or even where you come from
But what you came as
And will continue on to be

The hustle and bustle
Packing heat
Flexing muscle
In the big bad city
Alex Hoffman Dec 2015
The only proper way to be a conversationalist is to convince yourself that you’re boring. If you can strip back the hard shell of the ego, and look down on yourself from the eyes of an apathetic God, you will likely (and hopefully) see just how boring you really are. It isn’t a sin to be boring, in fact there are many advantages to honest self-depreciation.

The main advantage, is the way you approach a conversation. “Interesting” people find it difficult to silence the affected score-keeper that dominates their internal dialogue and ruins any chance of an honest and engaged conversation. It is the voice that reminds you to show interest with your body language, and keep a dumb happy gaze laser pointed into their eyes. This dialogue is obsessed with authenticity and genuine conversation, and therefore a natural sociopath.

Luckily, you are the stunning definition of boredom, an extracted dictionary cut-out of un-interesting, and nobody could possibly give a rats-*** what you have to think—least of all the Voice that controls the inner-dialogue. That Voice has packed it up to find a more interesting vessel…maybe the person standing across from you in conversation. 

Because you are so boring, and they are the Oxford personification of intellect and fascination, you should pay careful attention to what they say—no time to worry about how they’re perceiving your reaction to whatever it is they’re saying. You are too busy to notice what sort of body language you may or may not be using to validate their half of the conversation. Instead, your time is spent carefully hanging on their every word, digesting it and projecting the whole bit into a colourful scene in your imagination. Instead, you’re too lost in the excitement of their infinitely more interesting life and impossible wealth of knowledge offered to you with each word that they speak. Instead, you are actually listening to the words that come out of their mouth and not the ones that speak to you from the inside of your own mind.

This is what it means to be in conversation. This was the point of our social nature. And in a world of needy social-media junkies grabbing at the cuffs of potential ‘followers’ and ‘likes’ and trendy passer-by’s, the last thing anyone needs is the high-pitched whine of another “interesting” millennial.

Lucky for you, you boring sack of yawning sloths, that you aren’t interesting too.
Sanaysha Aug 2018
She walks the day like a dark soul covered in dark clothes and jet black hair
She walks the night and her eyes collect the blue light of the silver moon ahead of her.
She's a modern day school girl with average grades and mid length black hair; she's interesting to me and I don't know why.
She sits at a lunch table full of people like a sociopath sometimes it makes me so sick, making me wait for someone to come up missing or found dead in the Manhattan plaza or so spooked they'll miss school.
I wonder if she eats or maybe she ***** the souls of her "prey" or maybe she doesn't eat and only wears a black hoodie because she's anorexic underneath. To me she's a little curvy to be nothing but bones.
Her presence is cold like ghost. She's wears her hoodie all four season 365 days, and all 12 months.
The night of a full moon, the night of a super moon, bright red moon I saw her walk straightforward into bright blue light skipping off the streets like dust I tried to catch up but it was too much. I got to the end of the street and she appeared behind me. Her hands ignited with blue flames and she took hoodie and her dark browns eyes wear now dark blue portals and her mid length black braids wear now was now straight blue flames. I am the girl in black hoodie.
Molly Apr 2014
She loves every one of her victims.
From the bottom of her cold well of a heart,
she loves them.

She would never ****
an innocent creature;
they all deserve it.

She stalks her prey,
she gets in close,
they begin to whisper

their evil little secrets.
No one is blameless.
She knows this.

Dig deep enough,
find the truth.
It is soiled.

She slits their throats.
You are released
from your sins,

she ensures them.
Through hot blood,
they promise they love her, too.
david badgerow Aug 2014
He was a frat guy.
he spoke loud at the dinner table across the room and I listened
Someone touched him as a young boy
And daddy's expectations and denial of homosexuality fueled his sons speech
Speaking hypothetically about the colloquial term for jacking off two dudes at once and if that name increased quantitavely what then was the appropriate term for jacking off 100 dudes

His friends laughed
Maia Vasconez Aug 2016
this is how you get right with god
on your hands and knees,
" could you spare me please"

this is how you deal with his wrath,
when you're pleading with him
and strangers turn their backs to mummer "that ones a sociopath"
and it echoes in your pounding head,
their grins and hacking laughs
"that ones a sociopath,
that ones a sociopath"
Breanna Riddle Dec 2016
You know the difference
Between right and wrong
But you and your conscious
Don't get along

You claim that you are
As good as can be
But your sinful grin
Cannot fool me

You're a sociopath
That's all I see
A sociopath
Is all you'll ever be
B Irwin Jun 2016
I could feel the steel when you grit your teeth.
Robotic limbs pull me into tangled wires
that I wrapped myself in for comfort.
Believing that you were capable of love
was my biggest malfunction.
And I prayed to a mechanical universe
for some sign of your emotion.
Maybe I am the one
with a few screws loose.
The Dedpoet Nov 2015
So Im alive,
But I died a little inside.
Because I am dead
And now alive and reborn
Into a thousand words never written,
I will become no one again.
Did you metaphorically cry?
Sad as thinking how well
You truly knew me?

" But we were poets!"

And so you live and die by the
Stroke of the passionate lie
That are the words that well
Up inside like a brutal indignity,
Outraged at my shamelessness
Did I ever truly puncture your heart?
I am Ded inside,
And I dont know you,
But I just love your poetry!

So we sever the ties from reality
And divorce the facts
In a hopeful serenade to the deaf,
See how I magnify the ignorance
With brazeness?
Such splendid grandoisity!
And a poem is just a word,
There is no poem without action.
I am me,
No metaphor needed,
Just who the hell do you think
You are?
Auroleus Aug 2012
The strapping young boys
Will play with their toys
And cause harm to er'one around.

They'll make lots of noise,
Colluded with poise,
Among them not a soul to be found.

It wasn't too long
Before they were turned on
To firm over in Illinois,

Where collusion has proven
A blooming conclusion
For all whom they choose to employ.

"Is this an illusion?"
Said one in confusion.
"I'm successful and happy and paid.

"I'm a millionaire
With brilliant hair,
And a beautiful dame of a maid!"

"Pardon my intrusion,
You've chosen profusion
O'er doing the world some good.

"Prepare for seclusion-
A lonely conclusion
Is knocking beneath your hood."
Please note that there is no lesson to be learned here.  Greed and power does not **** a person to a lonely demise... no matter how many of us would like to wish that upon those who have it.  The world is not fair, nor does it care.
Geno Cattouse Mar 2014
Hey. I said I do to a sociopath.
No winey snivel.
No quibble.
No ****.

BPD= Borderline personality disorder.=sweet insanity.= submerged insecurity = indian giver = lifelong victim=child manipulator.
Slick as snot running below the radar.
Dropping pretty baggage
Finding perspective.
Amazing what can reside in a mid sized cranium.
Disneyland in cog neat O.

Frued would have missed
This one.
Auroleus Sep 2012
I sing you lies
Like Lullabies.
The guilt slides off me
And you'll never realize
That these wise eyes
Are a prized guise
Fashioned to capitalize
On cries
Off all shapes and size.
Cries for blood
Cries of pain
Cries for God
Cries in vain
Once you catch on
(you won't)
We'll label you insane.
In the meantime...
I'll be planning the next Holocaust
Miles above you on my
Jet plane.
Lauren Cole May 2015
There's a time to laugh,
and theres a time to cry,
but if we only ever cry,
then we'll soon surely die.

If we only ever laugh
we'll surely be seen as,
a mere sociopath,
who is too unattached,
to ever be sad.
m h John Apr 2019
i spent my life trying to please
someone with a twisted disease
i broke myself down
and tucked my feelings away
to become the person
they wanted me to be
i let myself be watched
through the glass of a two sided mirror
of a sociopath
i wallowed my spirit away
and begged for acceptance
but there’s nothing in the world
that i could do
to let the narcissist know
that i am human too
the only thing that can please a narcissist is being miserable
Kida Price Jun 2014
She feels too little
He feels too much.
They meet in the middle
Only one mimics touch.
He says he loves
She says that too.
He asks, "do you mean it?"
She replies, "of course I do"
He compares her soul to the beauty of life.
She makes him a sandwich
Convinced it will suffice.
He grabs her hand and places a ring
She smirks and shrugs and says, "sure thing"
He wants an argument and a play of words
She looks out the window as nothing is heard.
He brings home gifts and recited affection
She portrays acceptance and calls him perfection.
She is the poetry that pours out of his mind
He is the man she chose to pass the time.
Hand in hand they both look fine.
Others envy the farce, they shine.
One believes it true
The other knows it's a lie.
The sociopath and the poet
A oddity at best
He loves her more with each second passed
And she can only love him less.
Rob Sandman Apr 2016
I’m a Polyglot Polymath, Microphone’s a Polygraph,
Manners of a Sociopath-Rhymin’ keeps me on the path,
Else I’d be hackin you up like a cannibal,
Pullin the Chianti out-serve you up like Hannibal,

Words heavier than Elephants invading cross the alps,
Under Armour over Body Armour-waistline fulla scalps,
From the Belt o’ the Celt o’ the Schizophrenic Sandman,
You’re triple teamed by -EC- Raps new Xmen.

I broke me chains,some say I went insane,
But it’s simple,all I went and did was grow a brain.
be the Bane of your life,while Mal plays Dark Knight,
A rhyme Super Villain with a verse of Dark Light,

The searchlights on-watch the cockroach scatter,
We speak Dark Matter while your brain gets battered,
batten down the screws-worldviews get skewed,
Mal and Sandman's Positively Mental Attitude.

It’s the original Irish OG rough rugged and ready,
Battling me is futile keep your hands steady,
I’m no pacifist,and if you take the ****,
I’ll clap you with a fist like an obelisk,

That’s a grave warning,-global warming,
The Dragon of Eire ,skies look stormy…
Since cassettes and disks I’ve been spittin ****,
That makes wannabee’s wanna slit their wrists,

The Sandman’s calling,come in and take a mauling,
Rappin since clappin one two and yes y’allin,
from New Aulins to saint Pauls my kin,
Are gathering for the quickenin,pulse races,air thickenin'
Highlander in a land cruiser,take your teeth out like a dentist
batten down the screws-worldviews get skewed,
by Mal and Sandmans Positively Mental Attitude.
Don't expect subtlety here,just like it says on the tin.
ShitHead Jun 2015
Loving you
Was the worst mistake I ever made
Along with believing you
When you said you loved me too
Because you're a ******* crazy mess
And you only love yourself

I treated you like gold
You treated me like a cigarette; just used me and threw me away
I called you princess
You made me cry myself to sleep
You broke me into a million pieces
And then acted like the victim

I loved you more than myself
But you treated your dogs better than me
I did everything for you
You lied to me and wouldn't see me; not even on my birthday
Then yelled at me and cried when I didn't want to talk to you

And after all this
And so, so much more
You wonder why I hate you? You expect me to forgive you AGAIN?
You say you've changed but you said that last time and the time before
You say you love me, but you're a ******* liar
You only love yourself
Sam Temple Dec 2015
feeling like I should feel bad
experience sadness for innocents
and anger at bad people,
gun toting murderers
without care
threatening the fabric
of my burgeoning police state…
but I do not –
eyes light up at daily headlines
unwound minds blindly destroying.
human land mines, primed and
in line at your local grocery
mostly just waiting for that moment
when they can really show them
all –
I call this the road to the end
humanity’s demise realized
live on the five o’clock news
it’s alright we lie to our children
telling them sleepily not to hide
and abide the tide of rising
on the young and dark skinned
who are destined to win in the end
when those left on the planet
share similar skin
let me begin, again –
last punch I threw
was in 2nd grade
got hit in the face in 6th
but didn’t make a fist
already leaning to a pacifist
in the mist of my drunken
father’s fists.
shot a deer in my 15th year
and put the gun down for the fear
of some cosmic shear…
still ate meat without feeling defeated
but cheated myself by disguising these choices
as voices in my head…
with an unruly hand planning on writing poetry –
but I love the disillusion
the growing confusion
that is a fusion
of people in sheep’s mindset
letting psychopathic dictators
dictate their lives
pill popping wives in new-age beehives
naming children ‘Chandelier’ and ‘Compromise’…
I accept my sociopathy
and embrace myself as a dying race
those willing to face the truths
and not try to sooth the pain
while knowing these are the last days
and sit amazed
while blazing legal marijuana –
Auroleus Aug 2012
Fat and disgusting,
the manatee eats and *****
with endangered grace.

Choreographed fits
awaken society
to its slow decline.

Politicians race
to win the seat but forget
how to act like men.

Why isn't there a
sociopath filter built
into the system?
TD Mar 2016
Wood nymphs were never so amorous.

Languid passion simmers
the latent pools murmur sultry nothings.
Bathing in the heat of a sweltering glimpse
surrealist hands would sculpt such lips and lids of leisure.

Exposed, shuttered,
ambrosia dangles dripping
to slide to the corner of a mouth and fall unheeded.
Trace a line to feel skin shiver
but never know the truth beneath.

Bearing all, revealing nothing,
sensual indifference.
inspired by: (the image from this contest)
Duke Thompson Aug 2014
forced to ask 'is it all *******'
this field of study just completed
this path now flying feet fleet'd
I, alumni all outwardly faux alacrity
but instead really inside shades drawn
hiding shame useless
waiting for the sun's forebearant rays
to pull dead drunk me off floor again
still sick sinning spinning lies
on nodal web patterns
of activation

just a narcissist sociopath-in-training
(was I?) being taught how better
to manipulate other's fate
for personal gain

great fat magnificent magnanimous beast
loafing on liar's chair o'great victory-defeat
doublespeak tho Orwell is long dead and we do mourn him so with eulogy eyes
that weep crocodile tears of
well hidden liars

having long forgotten how to believe
in anything aside from own ill-gotten
gains, they mean nothing more
than bloodstained verses
anemic murmurs
whispered great
whisky hopes
and sallow
Whiskurz Aug 2013
I sometimes hide inside myself
A place where no one sees
An empty wrong looking for right
Among a barren disease

I ***** my soul to feel alive
It brings no pain nor tears
An indifferent stain, out of touch
It's been this way for years

No echos feed my screams for help
For emotion is just a lie
I see the world in black and black
My eyes, too dead to cry

The smile I wear is my disguise
Although it's never real
It lets me hide the emptiness
And the darkness I conceal

I sometimes hide inside myself
Thank God that you're not there
For you feel pain, joy and love
But I simply cannot care
This is written about a friend who can't feel
Christine May 2010
I wish I missed people.
I feel like by never missing anyone
I demean the relationships I have.
I just can't help it.
Sometimes I wish someone in particular was with me
But those feelings are always short
And fleeting.
By never needing anyone
When I know how much the other person misses me
I feel like I'm not as committed to them as they are to me.
It's not on purpose.
I tell them I miss them when they say it first
but it's always a lie.

Maybe I'm just a sociopath.
Amelia Aug 2015
Wow... she may not be innocent, but he is an absolute *******.
DON'T BURN ME!!! (continues grabbing at a burning cigarette)
pure ****** ***** !
I would've slapped the **** out of that ****
Burning someone with cigarettes is a terrible thing to do.
I'm glad there's a great big ******* ocean between me and these *******
you can't really expect anything less from such low-class people.
very classy.
Will they just have *** already?
close your legs....*****
he is just upset that she doesn't want to **** him
found poem. several youtube comments on various clips from big brother copy&pasted
Amisha Khanna May 2014
I feel bad for black sometimes,
It’s not a colour but a lack thereof.

Some wear it to mourn the dead,
Some wear it because they are intrigued,
Some wear it to follow the fashion head,
Some wear it out of need.

It’s the most controversial colour.
I think it’s confused,
Does it stand for impending doom?
Does it stand for ignorance?
Does it stand for the freedom of a race?
Does it stand for class?

It ***** in all the energy around,
Only taking, never giving.
Why does it do that though?
Why does it act like a sociopath?
Is it because the other colours don’t treat it right?

The others call it a colour,
Even though it’s not,
Even with the same classification,
It’s not one of them.

I wonder if it feels lonely?
Will its dilemma never end?
Will it always stand alone?
Or will it find a friend?
vanessa Jan 2014

The Boy With the Birthmark on His Right Lower Calf

1/7/10 8:36 pm
The first boy that left me was my first love, he was the first boy who ever called me beautiful and he made me feel that way for about 3 and a half months until the distance became to much to bare, but we kept in touch for about 5 years so I guess you can say it never really ended because the pull of our hearts still happen to burn for each other every now and again, he is one for the books because he's never walked away from me he's stood by me through countless arguments, but I think we will always be connected. He taught me what it's like to fall in love unfortunately he didn't teach me how to stop falling face first onto cold hard gravel because now that he has someone new, I'm completely off the rails. I hope he comes back and saves me soon. He is the only boy I can't ever seem to get enough of, he is like a drug, the minute he touches me my veins fill with a substance of desire and my heart speeds up to about ten beats a minute and all this proceeds to happen within mire seconds of reconnecting I can't even begin to describe how it's been these past 5 years still being able to get that same rush around that boy--and only that boy. He is a drug I would gladly overdose on.


The Boy With the Cold Heart & the Four Glass Eyes

9/3/13 10:45 pm
The second boy that left me was no where near as beautiful as the first but he was one for deep talks and insecure walks. He told me what he hated about himself and how self-conscious he really was, that before he became "Mr. Player" he was a loser who always felt alone. His body was not beautiful he was destruction at its finest, his skin stretched and felt like scratching cold silver, in all respects he was quite a disgusting filth though at the time I found him to be made out of gold but I was dead wrong for he was the worse kind of killer-- a true sociopath if you ask me but I mean what do I know I'm a ****** right? Although the only thing he wanted was to toy with me and trick me into trusting the devil, granted I should have never gotten involved with him in the first place, because he truly tore me to shreds and he was still a baby so maybe that's why things ended badly between us, because even though I was naive then, he's still quite immature, I wish I could say he's changed but he hasn't.


The Boy Who Made Me Feel Alive Again

12/27/13 1:08 pm
The third boy that left me, well unlike the second boy he didn't do damage he actually did magic by gently outlining the curvature of my spine and liking the thoughts inside my head before we ever even came face to face, he knew me through words and kissed me like he held a secret between his lips. He didn't like books but he liked my thoughts on paper and he listened quite intently, so I guess that was enough. I noted little details when we walked home in the dark, like the fact that he lit up whenever I spoke and he always looked me dead in the eye, however neither of us had been murdered. Or the way he sounded when he told me about his life, or even the fact that he'd risk injury from oncoming traffic because of his fearless physique, maybe he was just trying to impress me but these are a few things that were beautiful  about this boy. But yet again, happiness in the form of Father Time only stands at my doorstep for a month or so because on the 27th on the coldest month of the year he walked out without even a proper goodbye.

imadeitallup Jul 2013
she called me in a panic
begged for me to answer
So I did...
And we sat in silence
oh, I remember that
crazy free fall feeling
just waitin' to hit the bottom
and I seem to recall
the worst part of it all
when you spit in my face
told me I'd been replaced
all I wanted..
was to feel something
but you never let me.

now you love me
now you're sorry
now you finally see
now you want me
I'm sorry but I
-I feel nothing

she said "c'mon
take a chance on me"
well, I did...
and it cost me everything
even if I wanted to
I've got nothing left to give you
and I seem to recall
that you "never loved me at all"
what's wrong with you?
that just can't be true
all I wanted...
was to feel something
but you told me to forget it

now you love me
now you're sorry
now you finally see
now you want me
I'm sorry but I
-I feel nothing

— The End —