"theirselves" poems
In the land of Temperature
I met Thermostat - Thermometer
What does thermometer do anyway?
A thermometer tells you the temperature whether it’s cold or hot
But it does nothing about the situation it identifies
It only measures and whether we like it or not
What about thermostat?
Thermostats function in a way that when it senses a room is cold,
it quickly and quietly starts the machinery necessary to bring the cold room to an acceptable temperature
If a room is hot, a thermostat cues the system to cool the room
It restores the balance, it assess the situation and make a difference.
I named her Thermostat – Thermometer
‘Cause she can be a thermostat to others
When she senses there’s something wrong around her
She always does something to make it right like a thermostat does
Sadly, she can only be a thermometer to herself
She knows there’s something wrong with her
Yet she can’t do something
‘Cause she also needs a thermostat
A thermostat to make it right for her
It makes me wonder how many people out there
Acting like thermostat to others
But they can only act as thermometer to theirselves
Hoping that someday
A thermostat changes the situation where they are in
Jul 26, 2013
Jul 26, 2013 at 6:20 AM UTC
I can see those dandelions
and how they were dancing,
to the serene bliss of wind
whispering,
unctuous promises.
though the dandelions
were confused,
as to why
the wind did that.
I can hear the wind sighed
and blow a gentle soothe
to those dandelions.
I asked,
why would they fall
for the ingratiating wind?
oh, dear.
how ghost-quiet it tasted?
as I put the question mark
back at the wind,
and hold those flowers
to keep their hearts save.
the wind
stopped blowing at last,
leaving every petal on their own
without lies,
without anymore promises.
all I can hear now is
the beautiful chorus of content
filling up as the wind,
replacing it.
I let these dandelions
plant theirselves
and grow,
without relying
on the whispering wind.
Dec 10, 2016
Dec 10, 2016 at 11:36 AM UTC
in the end
people are really disappointing
aren't they?
it's like they make a few loose statements
just to make theirselves comfortable
but once we trust
they have no intention
to follow their promises
with action
Feb 9, 2021
Feb 9, 2021 at 6:40 PM UTC
When one writes of love
They tend to use these general analogies
To explain the sensations
You could sit there and describe
Exactly how love makes you feel
But without those analogies
The words wouldn't hold the same appeal
There would be something off
The reason I speak of love
Is that I am in love
Thoroughly a part of an intense connection
That make it so no words can find the right meaning
No matter how hard I try
I will never capture all of our love on paper
The love radiating off of him like heat waves
The genuine sense of safety
That comes from his steady embrace
Nor could I capture the danger
The side of my love for him
That holds too close
Feeling the wrath of his anger
Though it isn't for me
Purposely putting myself between
His anger and himself
My love for him propels me to risk myself
To make sure he's okay
The slightest drop in his voice
And I'm left circling for ways to help
The words to make the feelings true
Still lay out of reach
But I pray that he can stay with me
Until I find those words
Ending with an "I do."
None of these words I speak
Will ever stay silent
Though better are hiding somewhere
Deep in the distance
'Til then I'll write of love
Without the right tools
Except those old and used analogies
Running theirselves raged
To barely graze my love
So I'll write a poem.
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 8:16 AM UTC
My minds a jumbled mess
I wanna say it all but all I actually do is say less
I want superman to come save this here mind
But frfr. I think he's resigned
Or maybe I'm not worth of any of his time
I'm drowning in my own thoughts
We train ourselves to act the same and I feel like I'm surrounded by robots
No one will rock the boat
No one will actually stand by me and make sure that I stay afloat
Me speaking my mind to others can't be translated I just sound like a goat
This cruel world is blizzard cold and I can't find my coat
Or maybe it's too small
Right now I'm standing outside and I'm forced to say I don't feel anything at all
Even though we're all cold
No One will come clean and admit it and boy oh boy man is it getting old
I'm done forcing myself to fit into that mold
Even when you scold me because I'm divergent
I cleanse my soul
(breath in)
smell that?
clean like detergent
I'm done letting social acceptance control my life like Ima a servant
Being cool and getting Instagram likes really ain't that important
Wether you got fans or not don't matter *** the world keeps on flowing
Need to stop and think about it "wait"
What direction am I goin
What outcome in life for me is the lord currently bestowing
I wanna be able to look back and ask myself "Hey was it worth it"?
And be able to reply "ya baby you fulfilled your purpose"
Weather or not I'll become successful is a difficult topic
I stay up at night just thinking about it
Dreaming about it
Living it in my mind and I can't even stop myself
I scream and shout about it
No not literally
But mentally
I strain my mind on a daily bases
I feel that up until now my whole life has been suspended by braces
But I don't wanna be strait that's not how he makes us
I don't wanna be another boring book on the boring bookcases
I refuse to be like those faces
Those aliens who have tricked theirselves that what is real is tasteless
Trying to look like ken and Barbie sending theirselves on wild goose chases
You know what this world needs?
Not a revival we have no chance of a survival as long as we live on earth
It's like spilling spaghetti sauce on a white t-shirt
U can't get it out
it will never revert
This pitiful world is in chronicle need of a rebirth
Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 12:19 PM UTC
I spent my time letting my hands die in the arms of my own body
I broke the chains of slavery yet broke myself in the process
I drank my spit with a dry swallow and discontent for what that meant
My legs tensed and I, like most of the time, felt disgust with myself
And though this was new and strange
I’d known it for some time now and it wasn’t getting easier
My eyes welled up but not enough to form a tear
At least not at this point
And my teeth grinding at the thought of what was happening to my body
But again I said this had happened all too often
And lastly I thought of my day
And the whirlwind I was in that brought me to my own demise
And I wondered why this has happened so often
And each time a bit worse than the last or at the very least a horrifying reality
My fingers felt different than my own and my depression from what they said
Would be to blame but I thought of this much differently
And not in the sense that i did not feel depressed
Just in the sense that the only thing I knew how to feel was death
Death of a self or a hand or even a time in place that I could not accept
I thought that everyday must be like this
And this is why I felt alone or rejected
At wits end or neglected
Why I felt like no one understood or like I was the only one standing in a room
And even with no words leaking from my mouth
My cintrivical force still beared witness to the pain that existed around me
And though my confusion consumed me
My eye began to shed a tear
And my left knee buckled up
And even though my right pointer finger was not to be found
And ultimately made my teeth grind again at the thought
I still was able to exist
Even in this poem
Even in this world
I was here
And the tear fell down my cheek
And thinking of you made it fall harder
The hardest thing I’ve ever experienced Was in the eyes of someone I’d described my pain to
And their go to was to make me feel it again or some part of it to an extent
Their first instinct was to let me relive it through them
As if the pain initially was not enough to comprehend
And that’s where I come to end
This poem or this explanation
That everyone has something to prove
And if it cannot be done through them
They will choose your pain as a way to regain theirselves in vein
And to say this is a joke
Well my only hope
Is that you are not another to
Let my heart be revoked
Of its own truth
Apr 14, 2021
Apr 14, 2021 at 12:19 PM UTC
I feel it arising
that deep down inside feel
my eyes clear
the pages open
the words flow
arrange theirselves
in certain
configurations
and the paper
takes it all
like a lover you
met
long ago
May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 1:25 AM UTC
The mirth crease on my face,
Are the traces of scoff,
Laced in my heart,
The oath I swore,
I hold with pride,
And the throne;I shall surely ascend,
For in their minds are nefarious surmise,
Bequeathed by their fathers,
As an epitome of my exactitude,
And in the reverence of their supposed lore,
"He is powerless"their honored lingo,
"He is powerless"their honored lingo,
The webs I cast,
And crown the ravens on the orbs,
Somersaulting the flamboyance and alluring sciences,
In the follies of their fantasies and lust,
Their souls are clipped with taint claws,
And shooed into my den,
"He is powerless"their honored lingo,
In their temples and synagogues,
Are my dote ravens,
Quoting the collars of their scriptures,
And stalking their honored lingo,
In their desperations for excellence and deliverance,
Their minds and sight,
Are bewitched with elixirs,
To their satiety,
And drove in slavery,
'He is powerless"their honored lingo,
In their moments of quandery,
I hover on the corridors of their thoughts,
And whisper the "B" plans,
Brewing the animosities and cruelties among theirselves,
Carving justification for the aftermath,
But still;"He is powerless"their honored lingo,
Apostrophe'
©Historian E.Lexano
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 1:43 AM UTC
I'm tired;
Of being sad,
Of being called bad,
Of being judged,
Of being scared.
I'm tired of being tired.
*Why can't people just be theirselves, instead of being the society's idea of perfect?*
Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 5:37 AM UTC
There are fragments of my faulty presence that I wish could be forgiven for
As much as there are obsolete memories,
altering theirselves into agonising keepsakes
The trails I have been trying to erase
The past that I thought I've left on the rearview
The hurting
The fear
The abuse
I have been waking up in the morning
Pretending to forget that these throbbing occurrences are all that I am made of
This is not discontent
This is wound
I remember voices
The voices I've known all too well
I was so little
Accustomed to the sound of TV outside my room
A year or so
The TV was never on anymore
And so dinner was no longer served
And Mother was no longer sleeping
And Father was no longer home
Growing up
I've come to realised that things
Just like persons,
They were also able to grow apart
There was the night which remained the longest
The bed have never felt any bigger
And Lord,
Have I ever felt any lesser
It was three a.m.
I called out
Reaching for Mother
Even I remembered how I sounded
"Where are you?"
There was a split second of the most exhausting silence
Until I heard her distraught voice on the other line
"I am looking for my husband."
That night have changed any other nights
And I have been living with the constant pain
Of having felt that you lost something great
When you never actually had it
I had my years of continual dejections
Until now,
I am still learning on how I should stop feeling like I am in pieces
I don't need anyone
Trying to remind me why I am this way
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 2:11 PM UTC
we dress our wounds
in sweet nocturnes
like pebbles in an hourglass
we shatter dreams in moonbeams
and fail to make these moments last
never speak to me in honesty
or drown me in your past
because i know, because i know
because i had always told you so
that atlas sleeps on soundless keeps
and shares his arms with the world.
wake up to my yesterdays and wait
for me to wander by, i'm there all the time
when you're not sure what to think
or if you're deserving of anything
i'm written in the roots of trees
and all the ugly little things
mushrooms from the rain that
dream to be clouds, and you always wished
they were proud of you
and i'm every little ghost in your broken home
the abandoned palace where parasites roam
and ask theirselves why as you ask yourself why
that you're loved, if they're loved.
and you're the second hand in my wristwatch
the clock towers that fail to spin you up
the raindrop on my windshield when i drive
but I've lost the will to stay alive.
you're the moments that i let slip
the glass i wrapped in aluminum foil
and placed in my broken fridge to spoil
why do i risk everything by risking nothing?
you were right. you're always right.
Nov 18, 2012
Nov 18, 2012 at 6:25 PM UTC
No direction
no cigarettes
no money
nowhere to go,
stranded.
No sleep
I watch the people walk by
I watch the cars
and the rain
People go home to their families
people go home
and want to die.
Nostalgia.
Sunlight pours through the haze
for a moment
and sinks
away
I think of you
often
maybe too often
You’re ******
just like me
all me do is drown,
drown,
drown.
Lust drunk *****
waiting,
waiting to destroy
unintentionally destroy others
then theirselves
and weep
for the past.
There’s strangers everywhere
watching
questioning my motives…
a man at the table next to me give me the eyes
All I want
is a cigarette
one **** smoke.
Ah, God, I lost the notion
strangling,
tangling,
growing roots to my sick,
sad,
soul
The people I witness
coming into shopping malls
are like rabid animals
Wild eyed and gazing
targeting their next material purchase
to try to fit into society
killing off humanity with selfishness,
selflessness
Scared children,
holding their mothers hand
growing up to be fools
to fit into this place
With eyes like knives,
awaiting your presence
to rip your insides out onto the pavement
and ******* eat you alive.
In the car
watching
the leaves thrash the pavement
the breeze is hollow and unforgiving
I think, and I don’t want to be here
when the cold front blows in
and releases it’s chaos.
I’m so ******
half dead,
like the light in your eyes.
This is how people become homeless
This is how people make it big.
Dec 9, 2011
Dec 9, 2011 at 5:38 PM UTC
no one is real
all cares are centered around themselves
when they will smoke their next cigarette
who's lips they will place their's on tonight
what girl they will fake a smile to
what boy they will pretend they never loved
no one is original
all thoughts are synced together
shave half theirselves away in pacts
appoint the men they will claim
the girl they will blame
this has to be one big joke
and i don't get the punchline
Jul 30, 2011
Jul 30, 2011 at 10:48 AM UTC
Come and go
Seasons barely touching as autumn transitions to winter
The passers by see devastation unbeknown to theirselves
A storm of leaves in auburn hues constantly plummeting towards the ground in every which way possible
All a gorgeous streaky blur as they advance through the graveyard of the world
Leaving every grave untouched as they float past
It's all noticed by the passerby
Perceived through crystal clear glass
Every single stark detail untouched and untampered
Seen as it is
On they watch
They won't admit but relief, gratefulness flood their beings
As they glide by
Feet above the marshy ground, soggy and trodden
They are not yet ravaged by life's cruel twists
Free from the plooms of smoke and swirls of mist
Judgment unclouded by the murky emotions of the graveyard
On and on they advance
Torturous sights behold their eyes
Past souls tormented by the weight of fate
Lives consumed by its deviating path
A gloomy and crooked path indeed
For the passerby: some knowledge
Make the most of your lucid journey
And when it shall end do not lose yourself among graves
For those tortured souls: continue as passers by
Do not bury yourself with your grief for it shall drag you to the depths
And it does not let go
Such is the fate of this life
But ultimately it falls upon you
KG
Apr 8, 2017
Apr 8, 2017 at 2:05 PM UTC
Years had come,and passed by
Like staggering waves
Rolling on troubled oceans
Yet,through all these years
You never bothered to look for
Or even called to ask
If am living or gone
When you know,
Now and then,will my ears ache
Just to hear your soft soothing words
For every word you have uttered then
Had enlighten and brighten my days
I become totally a foolery of your glamours
And you managed to mesmerized me by your magic
Then you spellbounded me by your stout love
No wonder,every thought of you
Excites my senses
But
Realizing how cruel
Love had grown these days
i sit in utter amazement
And watch red candles burn
As their wax falls and bades farewells to theirselves
Then i remembered the first day you said to me"I love you"
I've searched thoroughly
Through all books
Of distinguished literatures
Sciences and even religion
And leafed through card of motley sizes
Just to convey my deep-seated feelings for you
But
It saddens
Me so much
When I hear you spews
So much hate for me now
When you seat In the midst of your friends
Yet
All I had done
Was to love you wholly
And I still do now
I've become brittle
Like a rusting alloy
When thoughts of you
Drift through the lanes of my mind
At dawn,when I lie alone on these
Wilderness I call "bed"
Though
I know not much
All I know is am left
With the remains of your emotions
And I'm oblivious of their sojurn
It's
So hard to see red candles
Burn throughout the night with no end
When the flames whirls
In the midst of darkness and part off
For
What is it to be in love?
When all what
It brings is nothing but grief
And swaddle your very last breath
At the tunnels of it exit
Swollen sense
Yet full of nothing
When I stride in the darkness
Alone
With timed-bomb candles in search of what seems to be golden
Midnight Candle
©Linda Amony & Historian E.Lexano
Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 3:17 PM UTC
beauty is pain
that's what they tell the young girls
that looks matter more
than comfort
caked on makeup
that weighs your face down
tight clothes
that show off your body
but restricting your lungs
starving and counting calories
just to achieve the hourglass figure
plastic surgery and botox
just to meet the beauty standards
they go through all this pain
and suffering
just to reach the ideal image
that changes so quickly
so you can't keep up
and are constantly adjusting theirselves
trying to feel beautiful
but what they don't realize
is that no matter how much you try
to fit in
it will never be enough
beauty is what you make it
be comfortable in your own skin
wear what makes you feel good
eat when hungry
starving makes you feel worse
there is light at the end of the tunnel
i promise
May 7, 2025
May 7, 2025 at 7:42 AM UTC
Our love story was unknown by many.
They never knew we used to love each other.
Maybe some of them notice us being in love.
But they keep it to theirselves.
Our love is not the strongest because we're weak.
We didn't say how much we love each other.
But we always smile like nothing's wrong.
I remember one time I was suddenly upset or just bored.
I'm moody but you never leave me.
We're lovers.
But we're not into commitment.
I don't know what the heck is called to us, being in love but no label.
Jan 24, 2017
Jan 24, 2017 at 7:19 AM UTC
let us talk about that moment
where two strangers wake up together,
where reason is no longer dormant
and all the lust evaporated like ether.
and when the sun would rise
and shine on their lost bodies,
they would find theirselves dive
into the light's luscious *****
because night is their secret keeper,
their key to a lock of dreams and lust,
while day is a cruel truth seeker
which none of them could ever trust.
you'd expect this to be the start
of a fairy tale, a long lasting love story,
starting with breakfast in a tiny mart,
ending with a ring in all its glory.
but then again, let's not be deceived
by the bare skin they shared
and the tension they relieved
during their alcoholic glare...
Because *** is just ***
Plain and simple, like a treadmill run,
Having nothing to do with love
And everything to do with fun.
Oct 3, 2017
Oct 3, 2017 at 4:29 PM UTC
people usually cut to show their demons where to play
i did the same on the inside
people usually cry to tell theirselves that they're broken
i do the same on the inside
people usually bury themselves in what they love
i do the same on the inside
while everyone else is messed up
cut
bruised
torn
broken
i'm the exact same thing
on the inside
Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 10:26 AM UTC
they love her
they love her not
they love her
they love her not
does she have the right reasons to love such a love once loved by another
or does she have the thought of worthlessness on the tip of her mind.
should she jump for joy when she accepts the love being given
or should she wither away and hide in the darkness of her heart
should she believe such a lie as to be ones love
or should she fall for the truth behind the ultimate feelings
should she be scared to believe what he says is true
or should she follow her brain and not her heart and save the hurt waiting ahead
in the end she has always loved him but he has been blinded by society telling him she's not ideal
she's not the one
before the love can be loved and accepted by the other
it's already torn from the ones heart and given to another
one that's picture perfect
one that's acceptable by the eyes of the people
one that's not judged
by the personality
or the mass
or the pain
or the beauty
but by stereotypes created by the programmed robots controlling the minds of the ones that believe they are independent.
they are blinded by fake love
fake laughs
fake beliefs
fake feelings
they believe they are falling for one but in reality are falling for the other.
they want to fit in so bad they tell theirselves it's all in their head.
it's just a faze.
it will pass.
they will lie to theirselves and make theirselves believe that what they're feeling isn't real.
they will hurt the one true love they've ever had, just to be right in the eyes of others.
but what happens when the stereotypes start to change.
will they change their perspective on that person or change their perspective of theirselves.
will they start to believe they aren't good enough for someone.
that they won't ever be loved.
that they will always be alone.
will they be the one forgotten by everyone.
will they feel worthless and ugly and feel the only one who cares is the one they go home and say goodnight to?
will they turn into her.
will they finally feel the pain she's been living.
who knows.
because society will always judge you.
on looks
weight
personality.
it's like a never ending war between being perfect or not enough.
you can never win.
so in the end it was decided that they love her not and they never will.
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 3:58 PM UTC
Putting back my bike
Taking off my sneakers
Turning down my stereo
I'm drowning in my thoughts
Maybe someone is crying
With the skies right now
Together
I'm mad to wonder this
To know those people
To know who they are
To know their reason
Because
It's such a sad thing
How pretty peoples
Hates theirselves so much
Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 6:08 AM UTC
it's 6:10 in the evening,
i wouldn't prefer to be here
i'd rather much choose to leave.
it's not like i have the biggest choice.
though being with you,
is one of them.
being with you,
rather than listening
to boy bands sing
about how girls
should love theirselves.
as i said,
i'd much rather leave
with you by my side.
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 6:14 PM UTC
In a cold rainy night
The rain fell with all its might
Cold winds wrapped theirselves around my fragile form
Swiftly knocked the loneliness out and replaced it with something out out norm
The cold seeped through my inner self and made me feel less alone
It brought me something I was hoping people would give
It brought me companionship I never thought it could provide
An unusual source of life
A weird outlet of frustrations Yet it gave me the comfort no person can give
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 7:15 AM UTC