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"sugarcoating" poems
Droplets tap the dusty windows Tipping pleasure on the pane Dribbles every time the wind blows Prophesize a hurricane Kisses linger on the backseat Desperate to delight in more Suffocated by the heat, but When it rains, it starts to pour Panic storm that quickly closes Smashing waves upon the sand Tension tearing up the roses Stuttered poems, shaking hands Though the pressure keeps you floating And the ocean licks its shore There's no way of sugarcoating Once it rains, it has to pour Stick a finger in your ceiling Let the plants hang onto youth Sunday jazz, petrichor feeling Hear it tripping on the roof Smell it shifting all around you Leaking through your drying veins Leave your stagnant dragonfly blue Open up into the rain When it rains, it pours I'll blossom being yours Downpour cleans the ***** traffic Rippling madly down the drain Paints the artist something graphic While he's waiting for the train Laughter echoes in the morning Licking soil and clouds to raw From the vision that's been dawning Once you rain, it has to pour Spitting bombshells pelt your raincoat Tears in quiet pools of green Holes inside your getaway boat Water's sweet but can be mean You've avoided all the warfare But the stars rampage for more Douse the thin comfort you still wear Once it rains, it starts to pour Stick a finger in your ceiling Give the plants a thirsty truth Fairy lights and freedom feeling Tunes of our torrential youth Smell it changing all around you Bursting through the shrivelled veins Leave your crippled summertime hue Open up into the rain When it rains, it pours, I'll bloom so much being yours We're a perfect storm, I guess Fire has been stopped with less When it rains it has to pour.
0
Oct 29, 2018
Oct 29, 2018 at 2:46 PM UTC
When it rains, it pours
Droplets tap the dusty windows Tipping pleasure on the pane Dribbles every time the wind blows Prophesize a hurricane Kisses linger on the backseat Desperate to delight in more Suffocated by the heat, but When it rains, it starts to pour Panic storm that quickly closes Smashing waves upon the sand Tension tearing up the roses Stuttered poems, shaking hands Though the pressure keeps you floating And the ocean licks its shore There's no way of sugarcoating Once it rains, it has to pour Stick a finger in your ceiling Let the plants hang onto youth Sunday jazz, petrichor feeling Hear it tripping on the roof Smell it shifting all around you Leaking through your drying veins Leave your stagnant dragonfly blue Open up into the rain When it rains, it pours I'll blossom being yours Downpour cleans the ***** traffic Rippling madly down the drain Paints the artist something graphic While he's waiting for the train Laughter echoes in the morning Licking soil and clouds to raw From the vision that's been dawning Once you rain, it has to pour Spitting bombshells pelt your raincoat Tears in quiet pools of green Holes inside your getaway boat Water's sweet but can be mean You've avoided all the warfare But the stars rampage for more Douse the thin comfort you still wear Once it rains, it starts to pour Stick a finger in your ceiling Give the plants a thirsty truth Fairy lights and freedom feeling Tunes of our torrential youth Smell it changing all around you Bursting through the shrivelled veins Leave your crippled summertime hue Open up into the rain When it rains, it pours, I'll bloom so much being yours We're a perfect storm, I guess Fire has been stopped with less When it rains it has to pour.
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55
I’ve exhausted to excess the language of the social construction of whiteness which is simulataneously sugarcoating the goodness of blackness with the evil of pure white the missionary of evil *** death triangle reruns on West Indies news origin of criminality putrid impunity dissociative disorder and the villain to a great great hero called the blackness of humanity which is inexhaustible strength laughter and kindness oceans mercy severity beauty love *** origins stability shores and sustainability
0
Feb 22, 2017
Feb 22, 2017 at 12:25 PM UTC
sugarcoated *** triangles
I never fully understood the meaning of the  word “mourn” until this year - To truly feel the loss of another concentrated in its purest form. I never believed when others would say “I miss you more, in  each and every day” or “There’s not an hour goes by, without a thought of you on my mind” As if Loss is an unforgotten constant in the trails of the trivial, We are only human after all. But I was naive, through and through. Loss never leaves your side once you meet Loss is a friend for life. The kind that shows their face in the most unpredictable moments, Who never fades away or falls out, Becoming more aquatinted as we go through life. Loss is selfish, wanting our undivided attention, Expecting us to indulge in its deep dark thoughts with strong pretension. Loss is harsh, not hiding nor sugarcoating any enemy attack, Facing us with the reality of control and just how much we lack. Loss is bitter, Loss is unkind Loss is a thief, stealing our piece of mind. Loss is jealous, Loss is sly. Is it absent of Love, Or has Love left it’s side?
0
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 6:59 PM UTC
Mourn/Loss
I am maintaining an FB account Posting intellectual stuff only, Things that stir the mind of my social-networking friends By this, they will perceive me as a deep person I am an usher in a Christian church Giving my biggest effort to serve, Accommodating and presentable as possible For people to think that I am mature I have my own network of friends Where I can express hope, faith, and love (In times of despair and grief, at least make it sound that you are overcoming it) To portray that I am reliable, independent, and a man of faith But here in our secret place Everything is authentic, real, and sincere Sugarcoating exists no more Vulnerability and honesty surely steal the show The moment I lock the door and open the bible And we start a conversation I know for sure that I cannot fake it What do you expect from Someone who can see your inner being? This time, without a doubt, I am free To tell everything without the fear of being judged To argue without the feeling of being condemned To cry and accept that I am desperate and needy No wonder I love our time, in this secret place A time for unbelief and faith A time for loathing and worship A time to be Nixen
0
Jul 4, 2017
Jul 4, 2017 at 12:18 AM UTC
Quiet Time
Speak to me about regrets as you reassure me I'm making the right choice Talk to me about the fragility of human beings as you remind me how strong I am Tell me about the human memory as you promise you'll never forget this moment Mutter that I'm perfect as I am as you gently hint I should ditch my bad habits Whisper 'forever' in my ears as you explain that life changes despite all odds I'm asking you to be honest Speak the two voices in your head Instead of sugarcoating my rocks Please, put pebbles in my sugar
0
Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 5:28 PM UTC
Sugarcoating
As the sun sinks down. below the horizon so beautiful. My heart sinks again, all you do is take and never fill. The day has come to an end, it was wonderful until. You heard more romours, and my happiness was killed. You broke up with me, said you like another. What gives you the right, to rain on my sunny weather? If you still had feelings, then you should have stayed. Made an effort with me, and never walked away. You should have been truthful, instead of sugarcoating with lies. I would eventually find out, what is hidden behind you decieving eyes. You eyes tell a story, or hurt and heartbreak. But baby don't you see? You're making my heart ache. I love you still, and I want you back here. But all you want is friendship, so I cover my feelings shedding tears. I never did a thing, yett you still say I lie. Tell me to **** off, good night and good bye. But it isn't fair of you, to say all that you did. Act like you really cared, then walk away again. Everything with you, well, it's all mixed up now. And I can't help but hope, for it to resolve somehow. I want to see your face, and talk to you for real. Get it all out in the open, because this is all surreal. You tell me one thing, then go back on it again. I just want to understand you, you ever-changing man.
0
Jul 24, 2010
Jul 24, 2010 at 8:24 AM UTC
Ever-Changing Life
So, I may have gotten a bit drunk last night, (See previous entry). It seems I haven't handled my madness, It seems I'm still suspended. Between adulthood and childhood is a very unpleasant place to be, If only I handled life like I handle liquor. Each drop is a knife in the cerebellum, Hoping it might bury the feelings, How lucky the asexual are. How lucky, And how belabored I am to bear a mind like this! Lost, I've always been at home where I'm lost. Now, I'm wrapped in it. Surrounded by it. Penetrated by it in the most euphemistic kind of way. Thoroughly, It encapsulates me, The ether of burden, A treasure I wish I could share, Ashamed that I wish I care. Voices will tell me, Shouting! "You'll do great things, a smart boy like you." "You've been so blessed by God." I'm in a void of pride in a sea of aimless ambition, To do the great, To conquer the world, To see the fuel of my turmoil turn to ash. Angst would be sugarcoating it, Anger will never describe how it feels, To be simultaneously empty and full. I'm at grief like a fly at a summer picnic. I fly off the potato salad, Off the handle, It's thrilling to be at the mercy of giants, Swatting hands. Nothing seems to heal. Nothing seems to calm, Nothing can make up for losing God like losing a family member you never talked to. And you wish you did, Because life would be so much easier.
0
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 11:31 AM UTC
culture shock
Today The tears have managed to slip out Bringing about the red eyes, choked out cries of what life is really like Inside these four walls At every corner i cave Knowing if i stand up i will get slammed down down to where i curl up dead, still wishing for a better life inside these four walls I live in fear for tomorrow Afraid i might finally have the courage to press down deep enough to expose the anger that runs through my veins everyday inside these four walls Mother and father is what they call themselves nuturing us with love and care protecting us from the evil that is out there but is there a difference from the evil out there and the evil that is stained on these four walls Forced to play by their rules We follow them blindly even with the ocassional abuse "you're not white" excuse marks of bruises that show our traditional ways of life inside these four walls. Crying is not allowed no sugarcoating when we're down we live only for your purpose of control and possession choices made under your disgretion indide these four walls it's all i've ever known there's no place like home.
0
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 6:02 AM UTC
My Island Home
Your sugarcoating melted when I doused you with a steady stream of tears, the ones you created by stealing my heart, then stomping all over it with your petty fears, the ones you created in your jealous mind & by doing so, you ruined our love-connection with your bitter acts of juvenile-control. And all I ever wanted was you, not your mean childish side.
0
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 5:06 AM UTC
All I Ever Wanted Was You (But Your Sugarcoating Melted)
I've been licking sandpaper, -Again scraping away The disease. I let you carry, There were only icicle covered Cannibals; bearing hearts of lead. My anchor to it is gone-- I think- I think. -I killed it for fear, And now I'm sugarcoating- Poisons, giving cysts. To lesser parts of me. Help me-- I would ask the husk of my heart.
0
Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 6:49 PM UTC
The Cannibal In Me
Yes, the lights are off, but you are not on your floor crying. It's 3am and you're laying silently in your bed and you can't stop turning. You haven't gotten a good night's sleep in weeks. It isn't "You can do this, just hold on!". It's the constant gnawing at your neck and the feeling of disgusting hands reaching around your throat and choking you, yet your arms are so tired that you can't even muster up the motivation to want to reach up and yank the hands away. It feels like you want to do everything you possibly can, yet you're too tired to do anything. So much so that you would rather lay in bed and come up with excuses about how even the simplest tasks are the biggest problems that you can't come up with solutions to. You would rather stay here and wallow in your sadness than open your window for fresh air and fix yourself something to eat. It's being surrounded by your closest friends and still feeling sad. It's staying up to watch the sunrise without even wanting to. It's feeling nauseous without riding a roller coaster. It's sitting in your shower long after you've washed yourself clean. You're only sitting in your shower because your tears feel less noticeable with the faucet running on your face; the only reason you're sitting instead of standing is because you're too exhausted to stand anymore. You can't stand it anymore. It's realizing what's best for you, and when you try your hardest to do what's best for you, it feels like the world is collapsing onto you. It's a walk in the park on a freezing Tuesday evening in December when the snow is beyond cold but it's the only thing left that makes you feel anything so you feel compelled to sit in it. It's a lot of things. Most importantly though, it's nothing. At least that's what you keep telling people. Please stop sugarcoating it.
0
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 6:02 AM UTC
The Ugly Truth
Yes, the lights are off, but you are not on your floor crying. It's 3am and you're laying silently in your bed and you can't stop turning. You haven't gotten a good night's sleep in weeks. It isn't "You can do this, just hold on!". It's the constant gnawing at your neck and the feeling of disgusting hands reaching around your throat and choking you, yet your arms are so tired that you can't even muster up the motivation to want to reach up and yank the hands away. It feels like you want to do everything you possibly can, yet you're too tired to do anything. So much so that you would rather lay in bed and come up with excuses about how even the simplest tasks are the biggest problems that you can't come up with solutions to. You would rather stay here and wallow in your sadness than open your window for fresh air and fix yourself something to eat. It's being surrounded by your closest friends and still feeling sad. It's staying up to watch the sunrise without even wanting to. It's feeling nauseous without riding a roller coaster. It's sitting in your shower long after you've washed yourself clean. You're only sitting in your shower because your tears feel less noticeable with the faucet running on your face; the only reason you're sitting instead of standing is because you're too exhausted to stand anymore. You can't stand it anymore. It's realizing what's best for you, and when you try your hardest to do what's best for you, it feels like the world is collapsing onto you. It's a walk in the park on a freezing Tuesday evening in December when the snow is beyond cold but it's the only thing left that makes you feel anything so you feel compelled to sit in it. It's a lot of things. Most importantly though, it's nothing. At least that's what you keep telling people. Please stop sugarcoating it.
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16
i never learn how to say the truth to my friends, unless they're good things i'm not big on sugarcoating, but neither on being brutally and truthfully honest most especially to you i can never describe the fear and the anxiety of disappointing you of just spitting the words i really wanted to say but always always too afraid or stricken to speak because you might just not get it and i might just end up hurting you instead of simply laying down my opinions opinions i have tons of them inside my head and they just stay there, waiting to be used on the day i'll finally find the courage to say that you're too much and the pain is sometimes unbearable and can you please stop or just pause because because my heart is too heavy from all your accusations my lungs too tight from this choked up feeling, for always letting you win without batting an eyelash and just opening your lips to let your own harsh words out my soul, dear friend, is bruised too much i can hardly recognized it because of the many stitches i sew on it every night so that it'll look like it's ready yet again for another war with you you see my mind is not that strong to block all your scary glares and your always present annoyed voice everytime i attempt to say what i want you to hear i can't seem to dodge your blows as i try to turn my back on you because that will only give you more reason to think that here i am again, leaving you after all the time you picked me up and stayed with me how can you not see that i am so. **** tired. of putting up with your ***** of your careless throwing of disguised-as-honest-but-really-are-just-hurtful words? how? this is the reason i left you before and only by a circumstance i first thought was a blessing but is really just another opportunity for you to break me way worse than before did we meet and if there's something i learned from that it's that i won't let you do that to me ever again i'm one of them as Cassie would say the bent, but the unbroken
0
Mar 2, 2018
Mar 2, 2018 at 1:43 AM UTC
nay
i never learn how to say the truth to my friends, unless they're good things i'm not big on sugarcoating, but neither on being brutally and truthfully honest most especially to you i can never describe the fear and the anxiety of disappointing you of just spitting the words i really wanted to say but always always too afraid or stricken to speak because you might just not get it and i might just end up hurting you instead of simply laying down my opinions opinions i have tons of them inside my head and they just stay there, waiting to be used on the day i'll finally find the courage to say that you're too much and the pain is sometimes unbearable and can you please stop or just pause because because my heart is too heavy from all your accusations my lungs too tight from this choked up feeling, for always letting you win without batting an eyelash and just opening your lips to let your own harsh words out my soul, dear friend, is bruised too much i can hardly recognized it because of the many stitches i sew on it every night so that it'll look like it's ready yet again for another war with you you see my mind is not that strong to block all your scary glares and your always present annoyed voice everytime i attempt to say what i want you to hear i can't seem to dodge your blows as i try to turn my back on you because that will only give you more reason to think that here i am again, leaving you after all the time you picked me up and stayed with me how can you not see that i am so. **** tired. of putting up with your ***** of your careless throwing of disguised-as-honest-but-really-are-just-hurtful words? how? this is the reason i left you before and only by a circumstance i first thought was a blessing but is really just another opportunity for you to break me way worse than before did we meet and if there's something i learned from that it's that i won't let you do that to me ever again i'm one of them as Cassie would say the bent, but the unbroken
Continue reading...
26
I am melting gold on my papers. I’m wandering trough words of honey to spread them on your soul, just to make it a little more sweet. There is an explosion of light running trough a field of breadcrumbs from my crumpled, but rich like blood red jam imagination. I write my sins with candy canes sugarcoating them ‘cause I am only afraid you won’t remember my good but you will never forget my bad. There is only hope, hanging from a rope and, of course, love, who’s silently dripping from my heart, oh, my heart, my only enemy destroying me, turning my whole lighthearted existence into a heavy tar abyss. not only does it hurt, but it also tastes bitter. like coffee during golden hours, hot and black, but, oh so good and so relieving, it becomes my essence, my blood. So I return to honey and candy canes and hide behind my fingers and behind my lying eyes. But I reveal myself at night, being at my true self, a sinner, a liar, a poet. -May Colde
0
Aug 6, 2019
Aug 6, 2019 at 10:53 AM UTC
poet #2
poets live by sugarcoating unexpressed feelings that can be disaster if not left unsaid.
0
Oct 9, 2017
Oct 9, 2017 at 10:28 AM UTC
Poets Live By
I spit words of disgust To conceal my heart covered with rust. I may be known as a bad mouthed ******* but dear I am just being truthful. Euphemisms? I’ve had enough of that. I see no need of sugarcoating words For it just washes brains, somewhat. Insincerity built through words that are too easy to afford. “I say words contrary to what I feel,” Strength from pretentious lips. It’s not what I feel for real, but it prevents the red liquid and its drips. So if you see me in the streets, smiling and screaming at the top of my lungs that, "I feel so alive!" Honey, please consider the opposite.
0
Nov 1, 2018
Nov 1, 2018 at 10:32 AM UTC
Consider the Opposite
"it's not right, you're sick and depraved, you don't know anything, it's disgusting," is what they all shouted at me i bit my tongue, swallowed my blood, hid my colors but stood my ground black and blue bruises made me feel ***** but i perservered, despite the angel's cry and suddenly all the beatings turned into shoves the slurs yelled at me became "be proud!" despite the sugarcoating and the sudden change of heart i saw through the false, white smiles popularity creates lies
0
Jun 3, 2020
Jun 3, 2020 at 5:46 PM UTC
true colors
i never learn how to say the truth to my friends, unless they're good things i'm not big on sugarcoating, but neither on being brutally and truthfully honest most especially to you i can never describe the fear and the anxiety of disappointing you of just spitting the words i really wanted to say but always always too afraid or stricken to speak because you might just not get it and i might just end up hurting you instead of simply laying down my opinions opinions i have tons of them inside my head and they just stay there, waiting to be used on the day i'll finally find the courage to say that you're too much and the pain is sometimes unbearable and can you please stop or just pause because because my heart is too heavy from all your accusations my lungs too tight from this choked up feeling, for always letting you win without batting an eyelash and just opening your lips to let your own harsh words out my soul, dear friend, is bruised too much i can hardly recognized it because of the many stitches i sew on it every night so that it'll look like it's ready yet again for another war with you you see my mind is not that strong to block all your scary glares and your always present annoyed voice everytime i attempt to say what i want you to hear i can't seem to dodge your blows as i try to turn my back on you because that will only give you more reason to think that here i am again, leaving you after all the time you picked me up and stayed with me how can you not see that i am so. **** tired. of putting up with your ***** of your careless throwing of disguised-as-honest-but-really-are-just-hurtful words? how? this is the reason i left you before and only by a circumstance i first thought was a blessing but is really just another opportunity for you to break me way worse than before did we meet and if there's something i learned from that it's that i won't let you do that to me ever again i'm one of them as Cassie would say the bent, but the unbroken
0
Mar 2, 2018
Mar 2, 2018 at 1:40 AM UTC
Untitled
i never learn how to say the truth to my friends, unless they're good things i'm not big on sugarcoating, but neither on being brutally and truthfully honest most especially to you i can never describe the fear and the anxiety of disappointing you of just spitting the words i really wanted to say but always always too afraid or stricken to speak because you might just not get it and i might just end up hurting you instead of simply laying down my opinions opinions i have tons of them inside my head and they just stay there, waiting to be used on the day i'll finally find the courage to say that you're too much and the pain is sometimes unbearable and can you please stop or just pause because because my heart is too heavy from all your accusations my lungs too tight from this choked up feeling, for always letting you win without batting an eyelash and just opening your lips to let your own harsh words out my soul, dear friend, is bruised too much i can hardly recognized it because of the many stitches i sew on it every night so that it'll look like it's ready yet again for another war with you you see my mind is not that strong to block all your scary glares and your always present annoyed voice everytime i attempt to say what i want you to hear i can't seem to dodge your blows as i try to turn my back on you because that will only give you more reason to think that here i am again, leaving you after all the time you picked me up and stayed with me how can you not see that i am so. **** tired. of putting up with your ***** of your careless throwing of disguised-as-honest-but-really-are-just-hurtful words? how? this is the reason i left you before and only by a circumstance i first thought was a blessing but is really just another opportunity for you to break me way worse than before did we meet and if there's something i learned from that it's that i won't let you do that to me ever again i'm one of them as Cassie would say the bent, but the unbroken
Continue reading...
26
i just want you to know me and i want to know you, but ego and curiosity can’t live together comfortably Because most things I’m ‘fraid to ask And most thing I’m ‘fraid to know. Falling to ash in someone’s arms isn’t as hard as sugarcoating the things we all go through And we all feel like this And we all “don’t” So we decorate our walls And make sure there no windows. My eyes are black, so I’ve never had to worry much about that. Nothing to tell- nothing to show Cold, hard touch not sure where or how to crack the ice.. i hear ”warmth will melt” But all human hearts have different boiling points And my skin is too sensitive to test those waters.
0
Jul 14, 2019
Jul 14, 2019 at 6:52 PM UTC
Shiver ‘til then