"straightjacket" poems
Goodnight ******
You fill me with sorrow;
Goodnight ******
You might die tomorrow.
Grunts and farting make me quite forlorn
But with each dawn I feel new-born;
Goodnight ******
While I'm deep inside you.
Goodnight ******
Let me lie beside you;
Goodnight ******
O what fun to ride you.
Goodnight ******
Straightjacket enfold you,
Strong enough to hold you,
Goodnight ****** goodnight.
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 7:28 AM UTC
i am waking up
pushing my way through the plastic covering all of the ideas i was never supposed to touch
so many ideas
i am choosing to walk down halls with varied perspective mirrors
i stop at the ones that make me look fat
and don't believe the ones that reflect a flattering figure
i walk on
i observe
i internalize
i try to understand
why do i think the way that i do?
i was born
into a straightjacket
on the rungs of a one-way ladder
never saw that others might be scaling or ascending the same wall
with rope
sheer strength
the stairs
who am i to judge which way is better?
"the injuring of another can be in no case just."
(as long as it's not hurting anyone)
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 1:14 AM UTC
I’m not entirely sure what you’re looking for
And I’m sorry if I don’t fit into the wardrobe you picked out
I tried cutting off my arms to fit into the straightjacket better
But it hurt too much
And I wasn’t willing to give up so many things
Just to be with you
I suppose I shouldn’t ask you to cut out your heart to fit into my hand better
I shouldn’t ask for things like that
The only polite things to ask are simpler than that
“Can I use your bathroom?”
“May I sit down?”
Yes
I don’t talk out of turn anymore
Because last time that happened I was a stranger
A thief rummaging through your things at 3 in the morning
And you shattered all of my intentions with that blunt baseball bat
I’m still not sure you recognized me
Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 11:53 PM UTC
Forever unhappy.
These words echo throughout my mind searching for a landing spot
as if my mind was made up of cliffs, instead of a straight cave.
Damage done throughout the years
has broken off
pieces
of matter
from the sides,
seemingly making me unstable
when in reality each groove offers security to those
brave enough to enter my darkness and venture forth.
Forever unhappy
has become the theme of my penitentiary.
He wrote it as I felt it,
but when the earth shook with our last kiss it still didn’t budge.
Emancipation- if there is such a thing- has failed to find me
despite the fact that I left.
I took a liberty walk into a straightjacket because the truth is:
I cannot escape him.
Since his absence, I have lost feeling. If I’m not preoccupied, I’m numb.
I press through the day normally
except for the occasional external
faltering to submission
in doses of anxiety attacks
where my hyperventilation becomes a rhythm of its own
until I find myself distracted once again.
I’m forcing myself to be more involved with life, but it’s false hope.
I know he resides in me,
waiting rather impatiently for my return. Lurking like a demon,
yet shadowed to preserve innocence
so when the light renders him different, we can both blame my vision.
Apr 26, 2013
Apr 26, 2013 at 3:42 AM UTC
There's this scintillating glow
Behind a sheer veil that falls ominously before my eyes
If only I might just...
sweep it aside
But nay
I am a moth drawn to the piercing flame of epitomical libido
So close am I
Yet here I sit in my straightjacket
Woven by the unwavering hands of Father Time
It takes a strength to find that patience is key
I'm promised freedom from my unyielding restraint
Patience is key
And so shines a new glow
Oct 3, 2011
Oct 3, 2011 at 5:04 PM UTC
I can't think straight
This too long wait
Is too much to handle
I've walked for hours
Thinking only of you
Talking to the moon as if it was you
Feeling so empty
I can feel my blood harden
The hate you teach
Is beneath me, so fall in line
Start the fight that you won't win
I'd rage till you understand
I'm the monster in the moonlight shadows
You created from within your straightjacket
Bury your sins in these ruby eyes
Drink the dripping filth from sharpened teeth
Let me show you what you taught me
So I'll lie to you
Break your soul in two
Put your dreams beneath my feet and crush them like insects
I'll pretend to love, I'll show you hope
And when you least expect
I'll abandon you, like you did in the end
I've loved and lost
Yet lost it all when I loved you the most
So try to smile now
Feel your statue face crack
As the corners of your lips curl
Find the hope I leave you with
The only teddy bear for comfort
I'll feel alive as your wrist bleed
So close your eyes
Forever forget
Haunted, hollow, and hopeless
You're dead inside
I know you're no good
But yet, I still think of you
And distance tore us both apart
An ending we both should've seen
As now I can only hold you, when you enter my dreams
I just hope you can forgive
When I say I can't
I walked these hours knowing the pain
I'm hiding in the shadows
Running to the only place
We both called home
And even though it bears the title "Home"
Without you here, it feels so unknown
A vacant castle
Haunted by the ghostly scent
Of your intoxicating perfume
A shadow less feature
Bearing no common ground
The memories scorched in the walls
Playback when I walk by
And I remember
All the times I wanted to die
I've walked these walls
Hoping to find you in the picture frames
Yet you were worth more
Than the thousand words a picture held
So I'll scream into the winds
Hoping they'll carry my last message to you
Come home
The message of home echoes on
And every night I lie awake
In the hope that you'll return to me
But that hope faded fast
As day after day wore on
I couldn't take it anymore
Counting the seconds like hours
When you came home finally
You weren't met by a smile
Or teary eyes of ****** joy
But simply a rotting affection riddled corpse
Hanging from the chandelier you hated so much
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 2:53 PM UTC
i am hunted
and haunted
by memories -
once good times turned sour.
vines claw and grasp at my feet
while i try in vain to trudge forward.
i am picasso with paintbrush poised betwixt my teeth-
arms bound
by a straightjacket sewn from sorrow.
the lacrimose landscape of my limbic system is a scarred battleground.
fear and regret clash with my spirit and sanity like angry gods.
i fear i may be broken.
how many times have i apologized?
'til sandpaper throat
and crimson finger
from repentance and gripping pen?
not enough.
Sep 22, 2013
Sep 22, 2013 at 6:07 PM UTC
the social pace manic in its self-absortion, possession facing possession and what if
the world risks collapsing under the weight of its own irony:
a hedonic frame of mind so devoid of the ******* of life
the tyranny of desire is teaching **** to the naked eyes
a culture stops breathing if it can't let go of its desires to find them again
nothing to be destroyed cause everything is dismantling slowly
going right or left it's the same but not in any corner of the world
the leftovers of God, tautologies in a straightjacket,
cause one has meetings all day but no sleep all night
He/She/They colonize you with the scripture of profit
everything has its price on the expence of being enlivened
some don't have water, others too much of an illusion
some don't have peace, others have haute couture
some haven't eaten, others have molecular cuisine
some have the shelter of the sky, others listen to the echo of Big Bang
this logic of contrast is dreaming of the creativity of decay and
what if politics has become a narcosis, a drunkenness of words,
while the wisdom of trauma is hidden in billboards,
the text says Politics of Happiness or Diserotica
the depressive society fools itself with the financial ****** of disconnected bodies in search of the last noise of the day
the space of the mind broken by narrow horizons
the flesh and bone might turn into a virtual dimension
yet
the soul of the world flickers, it covers its solar plexus until we meet again as brothers and sisters of the trees
just because you feel good doesn't mean that
the world feels good too
Aug 18, 2023
Aug 18, 2023 at 4:42 AM UTC
In Truth;
Should it matter what we really are? Or should we let our true colors shine?
Being held alive, but only in a straightjacket, learning you are bisexual?
Getting the doctors' notice that you are bipolar, or just being merely different?
Should we be ashamed, from the words that pass from behind each of our lips?
Should we simply hear the music, in which is played by the melody that you create by your own hands?
Should we repress out the truest of our colors so the rest of society cannot see the difference?
Dear Mika;
Say Goodbye; to the world you thought you lived in, to the world I thought I lived in
Where society was all strange, with no definite curve, without any hesitation from the ignorance
Now, the bitter and sour taste behind swollen tongues in disgust of what they only think they see
Spitting acid upon those they are lead to believe are sinners, disgraceful, and unrighteous
As they hold out a helping hand, disciplining to correct atrocious mistakes they believe you made
But you are only human, and they peeled through the defenses of pride and confidence you had built up
Take a bow;
And say Farewell, to a society filled with leniency, with the hatred branded hearts breathing fire
In any other world you, could be the difference. To change the rankings of what is right, and what is wrong
But here, you have had to give up your defenses and to let go of the emotions that create this difference
Although society believes that there are two choices to be made, and you have chosen the incorrect side
All you can do is hold your head up higher than the rest, and have skin made of diamonds and steel
Because; it is as if the World wishes to believe that the molecules in your DNA strands are not the same, and gravity doesn't affect you any longer
Jul 28, 2013
Jul 28, 2013 at 5:27 PM UTC
In a fleeting panic
my body aching
my head in manic
I was fitted for depression
by my fashion shrink
cosmic blue straightjacket
boots of shocking pink
Day-Glo eyelashes
and a faux stole of mink
I walked the streets of Soho
and climbed the Factory walls
a girl betwixt
a boy between
everybody’s darling
till morning came to town
in my corset of denial
I took cover in the rain
and sang naughty little ditties
seeping from the recesses of my brain
I tripped my way to Bellevue
where a thousand plastic junkies
awaited my return
I fell into their fancy
and we frolicked amidst our lies
and hopped aboard an east bound train
to a velvet paradise
Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 12:49 PM UTC
i am cocooned in lies
i am comfortable in this home
i am so warm, so sleepy, so hazy
i weave more lies, more warmth, more comfort
i keep away sharp truth, cruel nettles reaching for my legs
i am nobody
i am a false being, a myth
i am confused in this spider's web
i struggle, but my cocoon does not give
i try so hard, but my cocoon is a straightjacket
i am crying
i am lost in myself
i am lost outside myself
i remember a name but not mine
i remember a person but not myself
who am i?
i lie
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 11:04 AM UTC
If I am ever lost,
Fear not, for I am either
Lurking in the shadows where the derelict live,
In a suit of fire so the cold and desperate flock toward me.
Or on the twilight streets,
My skirt made of the first twinkling stars swishing about my knees,
Bearing silent witness to the belligerent noise.
I may also be in the meadow outside town
Flaunting the crown of butterflies that the fairies made for me,
As I played with them for as long as the moon hung in the sky.
If I am there and you do not know,
Fear not
For I did not tell you
Because I would like to escape the straightjacket of my home.
Aug 9, 2016
Aug 9, 2016 at 11:34 AM UTC
An anxious dress
Like a spring crocus:
Violently violet
Inside and outside.
Its cold silk,
Snake-like and pure,
Born, endured
Like a straightjacket
By my hot sinful
Skin.
Both
Smell of myself;
That is, of life
With death inside.
My soul, living bird,
Can you rend them?
Carolina Ilica, from The Short Poem of My Long Life
Mar 12, 2015
Mar 12, 2015 at 10:22 AM UTC
Is it a sin if it's under the covers?
Am I bad for enjoying her?
Shes not mine, but I'm hers,
As we lay so closely together.
She says she likes me,
I say I like her.
Both our voices hazy with a resting tone,
Whispering our thoughts on the matter.
Invites me in to stay,
But I'm always kicked out.
Her arms never leave me,
Though I know I must go.
Innocent questions from under the covers,
We both know we can't be lovers.
Not now maybe not ever,
Yet we hold each other so closely together.
Says I'm so good,
Says I'm the best.
Controlling myself,
Inside the straightjacket's vest.
I am her dog,
Started at the foot of her bed.
Made my way so close,
But I know my place.
Keeps saying she's sorry,
I tell her its okay.
You know you are killing me,
But you're one of my best friends.
Lips to her forehead,
I do not dare kiss.
"Sorry sorry sorry..."
If I leave she'll surely begin to miss.
"Would you ask me to prom if you were a senior?"
Of course I would.
But I wouldn't get anywhere,
You belong to someone else.
Someone is walking in,
A tight squeeze goodbye.
She moves in for the kiss,
But I deny.
Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 9:02 PM UTC
my whole body is wanting for your
cells.
wrapped around mine like
a straightjacket of warmth
I need the fingers laced
pressure of bones on bones
not in or around
but on
senses fulfilled
smothered
in the passion of closeness
but the miles are thin yet numerous
stacked upon each other
melted graham ******* bridges
fossilized seemingly breachable
but not
shoulders itching with the distance
tendons, muscle fibers to light
floating away.
your shape. It is missed.
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 12:47 AM UTC
I suppose I had always wanted you to give up on me
I was always testing you to see if or when you would.
Finally, you did.
But it’s not all entirely my fault - you also put yourself in the position
of the antagonizer,
of the predator and the prey.
I was always just waiting for you to pounce on yourself
accidentally thinking you were pouncing on me
but I have long since given up on
falling for your traps. I set my own and fall for my own
and that is how it has always been.
Put me in a vulnerable straightjacket and I will talk you into trying it on for yourself,
Swiftly and seductively.
Dare me to tie you to a train track for the thrill of it and I will laugh and kiss you on the forehead and whisper goodbye
as the sound of a moving train will be heard in the near distance.
Blame me for disappointing you, because taking responsibility for your own feelings
Is always hard and close to impossible.
But I will always know who disappointed who, I will always know what kind of damage we willingly caused ourselves.
I am a mermaid that has fallen out of longing for legs
The only light that guides me now is that of the moon
And her unequivocal yet ghostlike offer
Of reprieve.
Nov 21, 2012
Nov 21, 2012 at 3:46 AM UTC
Schizophrenic,
the way we love.
your love and my love bind my hands,
a straightjacket ,inside rage is trapped,
a pent up swirling vortex futile against tender restraints.
Yours is the voice in my ear,
at war with the angry noise in my head.
‘Love’ you whisper across the space and dark between us,
reassuring the buzz and hum of desperate uncertainty.
Your hand slips into mine, rescue in torrid waters
Anger surrenders, too tired to howl and rage.
‘Love’ I breathe back, and the noise becomes distant
Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 12:41 AM UTC
He feels the tightness it presses upon
His appendages, all that was free
Now tightly
Wrapped,
*Buckled,
Harmful
Ways kept beyond his reach
He is in
"Feathers of insanity"
They keep his wings solidly
In place, for with them open
"They would expand"
Cutting,
"Upon his flesh"
Cutting,
"Upon his madness"
Cutting,
That which is a reflection seen,
"Gouged out"
Blind to the madness consuming he,
But this was
Rambling,
Delirium,
Delusions
Of a now tattered mind
He would forever be
In the purity of the jacket
"Pristine and padded bright white"
Lost in that shattered place, the landscape of his mind.
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 11:39 AM UTC
there is a straightjacket noose man
gauzed inside my chest.
breathing with inside fever and moving
around the edges with a mumble and
a shuffle he crowds the walls
with blue light.
the tapes fuzz and hiss when
his hands raise up to the glass
the security operator is crying
into his wrinkled shirt collar
and the wind whips itself
to a frenzy, the tapes fuzz and hiss
when his mouth opens up and
crawls a gasp straight to
the shout the shout rises like
sharp pockets of steam
and the director is shaking so hard
the pens on his desk chorus like
a thin drum choir, the desk is too hot
to touch, the noose man slips
to strands then to particle
then to simple sugars and
energy like light
right through the floor and the ceiling
and we are live
so live.
the glass once slow flowing moves faster
and sand is everywhere and
his eyes snap and chip into the
locks and the tape.
he rages in the deep the
lightbulb left, in the dark desert,
the red dust.
he lights like sparks and rises again
until my every muscle trembles
and the mothers chatter and my
teeth chatter and the director shakes
and the neurons shake and operate
like telegraphs.
(outside, I am a clenched fist.
a tired pillow,
the shadow under an open hand
and a closed eye.)
inside there is a crack and a moment
of confusion so brief as the smoke
clears and the neck has broken
on the noose man,
cut open by the speed of
his own sharp snaps.
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 12:45 PM UTC
Welcome to Men Tal's Asylum
Would you like a room?
Oh, you're here for a visit?
Don't keep your hopes up, soon will come your doom
You see that man in the rocking chair?
Why, that's Old Sir James
He was a devoted knight
Who loved to play horrid games
And that girl giggling to herself?
That's little Mary
She killed both her parents
Convinced she sacrificed them to a fairy
Those twins in the corner?
That's Tommy and Sue
They burned the town folk
And even ate a few
The regal woman in the straightjacket
Is Queen Opal Mead
She killed her son and husband
And crazily laughed her head
The boy being restrained over here?
That is Kendall Fair
He killed his sister an hour ago
And ate all of her hair
Our last and final stop is a room
A mirror and bad news, don't you see
Those patients you saw never existed
But your stay here is free!
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 9:14 AM UTC
The only place
that allows me to be me.
The only place
that i am finally free.
To escape everyone
even if they walk in.
Th doctors in coats
injecting their drugs.
Sadly enough
i couldnt ask for a hug.
All i wanted was to be loved
but insted only got a cry for help.
Being alone...
and tied in my thoughts.
I really don't know
how to end this poem.
All i know is...
i'm in a padded room
tie in a straightjacket
ready to crack.
Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 1:08 AM UTC
the worst part of life
we spend in a straightjacket
with one cuff undone
Jul 11, 2012
Jul 11, 2012 at 9:15 PM UTC
gulping down the agony
your irises shift like your schizophrenic sister
at the annual Christmas party
alone in a corner
whispering family drama
to air shaped like a person.
you ****** your head forward
like the motion would rattle loose
the thoughts that are stapled inside.
you breathe out in relief
when you find they’re gone
and the only person
you ever have to trust again
is yourself.
sigh out the real truth
you don’t trust yourself
as far as you can throw yourself
and you crash landed into rock bottom.
sometimes you wish you were like your sister
the only friends she needed were in her head
but you can’t get anyone to stay longer than a few months
you think the problem was choosing the wrong people
you just attract the bad ones
but you’re probably the monster
you just can’t see it
who can blame you
you wonder if your sister knows she’s crazy
because in her world she’s probably
the sanest one there
you wonder if she’ll let you visit
book an express ticket to straightjacket town
meet the friends she’s imagined
but feel more real than any friend you’ve ever had.
you realize that she might have to swallow
tic tac imposters on a daily basis
to keep the world inside her
not outside of her
but at least she doesn’t have to be this
lonely.
there are no friends in your head.
Mar 1, 2019
Mar 1, 2019 at 4:35 PM UTC
The storm is brewing and it's peaceful in here
There are laughs to be heard, somewhere
and it's peaceful in here
When the wind hits, it's contained
shelved books turn to tatters in my brain
musicals lyricals questioned insane
was the girl who slid down the mountain and landed in shame
at the foot of the grave of the days that made gains
at the back of her head, memories plated in fox fires and red
cheeks
creeps
cheap - you gotta be to survive, sometimes,
right? Freak?
Strum, I'll strum my fingers numb
or teach myself how
Now
The window is breaking under the pressure
A million pieces of my heart are plastered on the walls,
on the floor, in my calls
lost to the no ones I shouted to
Pillows
Things to grasp onto
Holes to tip-toe-topple into
What have you got to lose?
said the girl in the straightjacket whose
shards of hair flew past your periphery
like diamonds shattering in the moonlight
out of sight
out of sight
what is sight?
I heard a shriek-
stricken sighs
eyes
eyes
i's
Stop predicting bad things.
Blink.
Step forward or you'll sink.
The air is around us
The air is surrounding you, you're alone
The world is around me, am I home?
openness - vast, deep, incomprehensible
swallowed my stencils and connected
my pencils to paper and then
opening my mind to the stars
'thank you' spoken softly
unguided but for the shadows cast
on the ground by the clouds
ghouls glittered in the moonlight and
drifted into the cedars
Feb 8, 2012
Feb 8, 2012 at 9:33 PM UTC