"unworthiness" poems
I may write about you
I may think about you
But it doesn't mean
That I still dream about you
Or that I still want you
I don't even think it means that I love you
These poems
These extra ramblings
Are my way of ridding my spirit of your toxic presence
I'm liberating myself of the constant feeling of rejection
I'm relieving myself of the tremendous feelings of guilt
But most of all
I'm shedding away all of the feelings of unworthiness and ugliness that you caused me to feel
You ripped me in two
These poems get rid of the brokenness
While I attempt to puzzle myself back together
You left me a mess
That's how I know you're not the best
I'm moving on now
And you'll be sorry
Because there will come a time
When you'll really need me
Dec 23, 2013
Dec 23, 2013 at 1:12 PM UTC
Your mind is an abyss sated with emptiness,spore of an ink-jet,
the heart is erupting with repugnant repulsiveness.
Your conscience ravage by your impulsive act.
You indulge in savagery shackled by misery creativity is a mystery .
You diverged from an honest life and now you're perjuring in art you dark-prowlers.
Converged with parasites marauding, Proud-Writers.
Cursed with uncertainty you're embracing lies, in the realm of thieves there's a decaying crown.
Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 4:41 AM UTC
Everything in my body is weary, my bones don't feel like mine anymore, or real anymore, just simple slugs in my limbs begging me to move slowly and slime upon everything.
I'd rather hide in my sweater than face the world today, and I daren't try to hide my yawns and my sullen, sunken face, bare to the world that I am broken and sad today.
I want to be asleep, where I have a chance of waking up and this being gone. But I cannot do that, not yet, I must fight and live to die another day. How somber.
My hair is a frizzy mess and my makeup must be a disaster, I am sure. The lights dance just out of reach, out of touch, out of my way as i wander along the lonely dark path today has for me.
Tomorrow. I want tomorrow, where I can sleep and dream and beg for a life more than my own, to beg for some magic that will magic away these feelings of sorrow and unworthiness. I just want to be better.
At least my sweater keeps my cold heart warm.
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 12:28 PM UTC
A Kiss Is Not a Kiss
A kiss is not just a kiss
…A kiss can be the key
That unlocks
Love
Life
And countless of other
Limitless
Possibilities
A kiss is not just a kiss
…A kiss can be the cure
For loneliness
Unworthiness
It can be
Confidence
For the unsure
A kiss is not just a kiss
…A kiss can be
Recognition
That you deserve love
That you deserve life
It gives you
Permission
So until you find someone
That will show you
Love
And
Affection
...Look in the mirror
And blow a kiss
To your own
Beautiful
Deserving
Reflection
Jan 6, 2013
Jan 6, 2013 at 12:31 AM UTC
O, from what power hast thou this powerful might
With insufficiency my heart to sway?
To make me give the lie to my true sight,
And swear that brightness doth not grace the day?
Whence hast thou this becoming of things ill,
That in the very refuse of thy deeds
There is such strength and warrantise of skill
That, in my mind, thy worst all best exceeds?
Who taught thee how to make me love thee more,
The more I hear and see just cause of hate?
O, though I love what others do abhor,
With others thou shouldst not abhor my state.
If thy unworthiness raised love in me,
More worthy I to be beloved of thee.
1.6k
all the oil is gone from the gulf
all we have to worry about
are vampires
YOU GO AWAY FOR A DAY AND WHAT IS HERE?
VAMPIRES....AGAIN
simple images of ourselves
and what we do to eachother
images of our false love disquised
as imagry....in imaginary terms
YOU GO AWAY FOR A DAY AND WHAT IS HERE?
VAMPIRES....AGAIN
you try to truly love but
the "people" want VAMPIRES
to **** their stinking blood
and give them excuses
for the blood they ****
YOU GO AWAY FOR A DAY AND WHAT IS HERE?
VAMPIRES....AGAIN
AND LOVERS.....AS SUCH
come
beyong the imaginary grief we feel
beyond the imaginary images of revenge
that thrill us to the core of our unworthiness
beyond the death we worship
we are truly dead
YOU GO AWAY FOR A DAY AND WHAT IS HERE?
VAMPIRES....AGAIN
and
so sad to say
WE ARE HERE
VAMPIRES!
******* death
as such
pretending that the oil
is gone from the gulf!
Sep 7, 2010
Sep 7, 2010 at 12:31 PM UTC
17 | 31 Poems for August 2017
Let me whisper those sweet words that held together the shattering glass you think you’ve become.
I know that through their utterance you will finally feel your heart beating to the rhythm of our love.
I want our long late-night conversations and phone calls to come to life again.
Because I miss hearing your voice on Wednesday afternoons and the joy in your sporadic bursts of laughter.
Sometimes you feel as if you’re running away from the constant pang of unworthiness that your heartbeat has become.
The world has made you feel like an abandoned church, but in my eyes, you’ll always be a cathedral.
I just wish you’d stop running away from the fear of finding something so genuine and just run into my arms.
I want the chance to breathe love down your spine; I want to be with you until the love runs out.
In a world ravaged by cold wars, our love and happiness is what we should be constantly fighting for.
Life will bend and stretch the both of us into painful shapes, but I know that we will eventually be okay.
During cold winter nights and warm summer mornings, I long to have the presence of your body next to me.
I know that we didn’t come this far, to only come this far.
Aug 17, 2017
Aug 17, 2017 at 1:02 PM UTC
All my life I have kneeled down at your altar
Sacrificing my innocence and self worth
A lamb who's blood would gain me favor
"the Father, from whom are all things and for whom we exist"
Yes, I worshipped you like a God I was afraid of
Old Testament wrath brewed in our home
And I readied myself to **** what I loved
As Abraham would, as sheep do for their shepherds
For I knew my creator loved me, and called me love
"For he disciplines those he loves, and he punishes each one he accepts as his child. "
By the stripes inflicted upon me I would be freed
Of this shame and unworthiness you bestowed
But it turns out "Father" does not mean "God"
Sometimes it just means "alcoholic"
Sometimes discipline just means abuse
My faith is now placed in me, and the God that made us both.
Jan 27, 2019
Jan 27, 2019 at 11:20 PM UTC
My heart can not lie and say your are the one.
But I can not seem to remember how I got to loving you.
So can we please start over ?
Can you romance me all over again so I can feel the moment I fell in love with you ?
Can you write me poems again so I remember the feeling of losing my breath at the emotions they brought ?
Will you whisper those sweet words that held together the shattering glass I had become and through their utterance I could feel your heart ?
Can those long late night conversations and phone calls come to life again ? Cause I miss the smile I held while falling asleep and the sense of hope and love you brought to my world of loneliness.
Don't misintepret me when I say it all seems to be a distant memory.
What I feel is real but
A point came in my life where detachment became a way to cope.
Even in loving you I was not really there.
Perhaps I was running away from the constant pang of unworthiness that my heart beat had become ? The skeletons which kept me up at night ?
Or just the mere fear of finding something so real because I tends to "exude the illusions of perfect, yet I fail to commit. I seem to ruin anything good going for me".
But give me a chance.
Can we start over cause my heart says you're the one.
Mar 22, 2016
Mar 22, 2016 at 5:20 AM UTC
How do I mend my relationship with my body?
How do I hate myself, less?
How could I?
How dare I?
The world doesn't.
It tells me all the reasons why I shouldn't.
I mustn't.
I must hate myself.
I must hate my body, that is what I deserve.
What my body deserves
Love is reserved for the thin.
the beautiful.
The beautiful.
I could never be beautiful.
It's a lie,
when they say it.
It's a lie.
when they say I am.
I am beautiful from the neck up.
but you'd never use that word,
designate it to my body.
to the rest of me.
The rest of me should be tossed away.
discarded.
Please sir, can I keep my head?
It's the only place I live, the only place I am allowed to be.
I am not allowed to be beautiful. not allowed to be thin.
that was not the hand I was dealt. not my lot in life.
I exist in the world with my shame exposed.
On display.
Do you know how that feels?
No hiding.
No escaping.
No pretending.
I am fat.
My body is fat.
and from first glance, you can see my unworthiness.
My lack of deservedness
It's always there.
Sep 23, 2020
Sep 23, 2020 at 10:53 AM UTC
circumstances changes the
man-you-al
neglects you,
negligence a criminal offense
against a young woman’s
every essenced senses,
neglect is regret coming
the unthinkable
that I guess is the
“not me joke”
neon sign
winking and buzzing
endless
by doctors orders(!):
stop being a macho idiot,
get thee to a
nail salon,
redo
updo
thyself
from toes
to fingertips
in a
remarkable stunner
of a
pink,
that says to
those glaring untruths
of unworthiness
I am beautiful
and
I
will be loved
if you only
think
pink
Oct 19, 2024
Oct 19, 2024 at 8:35 AM UTC
Despite my unworthiness.
Despite my waywardness.
Despite my wretchedness.
You choose to love me.
Despite how many times I grieve You.
Doubt you.
Turn to idols, putting them over You.
You choose to pursue me.
Despite my brokenness.
My blindness.
My weakness.
You choose to embrace me.
Your love is beyond any Love I have ever known.
For it has no end.
It has no limits.
Your Love is compassionate.
Merciful.
Fierce.
Tender.
It draws me.
It woos me.
To stay close to Thee.
To stay.
Safe in Your arms.
To be the wounded sheep.
Held in the healing embrace
of her Shepherd.
To be healed.
By His Love.
Thank You, Lord.
that despite all that I am.
Despite all that I've done.
You choose.
To love me.
Apr 16, 2017
Apr 16, 2017 at 8:06 PM UTC
“Just comply with a smile,” he says.
It’s as if he owns you.
To comply means “to act in accordance with a command.”
Commands are what you give to a dog.
That isn’t what you are—for one second, don’t believe that that’s what you are, my friend,
But what he implies is that you are.
Comply.
Submit.
Lie down.
Don’t move.
Shut your eyes.
Stop breathing.
“But smile while you die,” he says.
And you say “yes” because you love him,
But love is not mean to take life,
It’s meant to give.
Say no.
SAY NO.
And make him believe it when you say it.
Breathe again,
Open your eyes,
Move,
Stand,
Shout
REFUSE.
And make him believe it when you say it.
He needs you. He needs you and he hates it about himself.
He needs you and you are woman and woman is the opposite of masculine so
He hates you.
Or at least he acts like he hates you, but really
He loves you.
And maybe he feels unworthy of your love, sweet, unconditional love, so he pushes, fights, quarrels, hits
It all out of you.
Reflects his unworthiness on you.
Doesn’t want to melt, to sink, to unravel, to be loved
To be taken into your arms and held and told, “it’s okay
to be weak.”
so he tells You, “just comply with a smile.”
he tells You to be weak so that he is strong,
or at least he thinks that he is.
really his strength is a projection of the anger that he is
human, mortal, weary, going to fade,
and he’s angry that he’s not the hero of some fictional story—
FICTIONAL story—
where the man who destroys life is the one who lives forever.
what the world needs is not heroes and their damsels in distress.
what the world just needs is Humans.
You are a Human, my friend,
Of the softest and sweetest variety.
And humans deserve to feel loved but it is not Your responsibility to
Love him.
He will go out looking for love when he realizes he’s worthy of it,
When he stops hating himself so much that he
Kills others.
And you cannot wait for that to happen.
Smile, my friend, but smile because You want to,
Not because he wants You to comply like the kicked down & scared little dog that he feels like.
He wants You to feel trapped because he is trapped,
But You are not.
Your capability to love, and love endlessly, is what makes You free.
Smile, my friend, and say no.
Breathe again,
Open your eyes,
Stand,
Shout,
Live,
And be free.
Please, be free.
Sep 30, 2013
Sep 30, 2013 at 10:13 PM UTC
It never saw itself as much,
a rough coat...
but underneath that where
its true potential lay.
But when It looked deeper
all it saw was conflicting layers.
Then the unthinkable, others saw
his uses but he just cut into himself.
Tears feel as the feeling of unworthiness
was cut away as layers fell..
but this was like every other
onion depressed at its worth.
but everything is special in another's eyes,
Were all like a onion, layers of dignity.
But even though we don't see it,
We all have a worth, were layers of an onion..
Dec 30, 2017
Dec 30, 2017 at 9:26 AM UTC
All your smiles and sweet words,
Feel a bit like an ice pick
In my aching chest.
But I get it your scared,
And I’m not the best you could ever do,
I hope that’s true.
Just know knowing you is an echo
Of my past and empty promises that couldn't last.
You chose wrong,
I’m not on any throne
And you've always known I stand on no pedestal,
We didn't have to be alone.
But I was worth more, than to feel
That I constantly pester you.
I don’t know whether I’m disappointed in
Myself ,
Or proud that I was so brave,
Even if you walked away
And let me drown in that moat of unworthiness
While you mutter repetitively in your untouchable tower
That “she isn't worth the risk”.
Go ahead and merge with the shadows,
I’ll think of everything and hate that I miss,
Every bit of the things that cease to exist.
You won't even let aPrincess in
After ascending those walls
in the face of great rains,
and murmuring bandaids
over old scars and fresh pains.
You coward.
Feb 13, 2013
Feb 13, 2013 at 9:42 PM UTC
For I am a fool
Blemished
By comparing distinctive venues
My judgment
As exquisite and so untrue
To whom I once trust
The people
Of unworthiness
Imprison thee
From a wedding between
A suitor and a darling cousin
But blindness cajole me
With a different appeal
Tantalizing every move
Caught in a snare of entrapment
The family, I once honored
But shamed
Beneath me
As the stones began crumbling
Sounding
To a level of crush bones
Dec 11, 2009
Dec 11, 2009 at 6:29 AM UTC
I cup your ears in my hands then I kiss your forehead, your eyes, tip of your nose, your cheekbones and finally your lips systematically removing your doubt & fear of my love for you.
Ten fingers embrace your shoulders; trace your spine undressing the unworthiness while kissing entire center of your being sealing just how much you mean to me ; yet your eyes tell me a different story every time possessing a thieves glare as if you've taking mischievously what was giving
So I lifted & uncleave from you yet before leaving I held your hands turning them palm side up
I kissed your palms unlocking the shackles of guilt that you thought no one noticed
giving you freedom to live
freedom to be .
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 6:58 PM UTC
He was born from the darkness of man's sin-
a monster, a vengeful spirit, and a barter of death
A whisper of an end resides in his breath; and swallows
up all in it's deathly grey cigarette stench
You'll find him at the edge,
you'll hear him creeping in every corners crack
He will follow by day
as a shadow of every lonely previous night
He'll shine on all your fears before you sleep;
he'll chase you in your dreams—cutting the images of all
your imaginations, a constant knife in your spine
A blade of grass,
he'll valley around your heart and water it's weeds
He'll brittle your skin, belittle you in insecurities,
and beneath his towel of hand- he'll wrap his darkness
around your neck
You'll wish upon a star,
as he's the darkness surrounding
You'll pray to a god, he'll prey on your doubts like
a pouncing predator. His fingers are a remote to
channel your anxiety- a device of your depression
Placing unworthiness in your hand, as a weapon of
your own self harm. He'll cut you from hopes, and
pierce a dagger of misery into your soul
You'll run, run into his arms that he lied a trap for you
An uncomfortable long hug, he'll ***** you until
you feel too ashamed to scream for help
He'll promise you heaven, but give you a whole lot of hell first
he'll give you his curse, he'll curse your very worth,
and leave you bare and unholy—his unworthy curse
He'll disguise his red hand with a bouquet of black roses,
but beware his thorns, beware his thorns
He'll treat you fairly in the abuse he gives
us all. He'll attack you singlehandedly, but
he has a hand in us all
His goal is to raise an army of his slaved cowards,
be weary- _fear wears red, in the devil's flowers_
Jan 12, 2023
Jan 12, 2023 at 12:40 PM UTC
Gross exertion, infatuation
Flagellating the root
Of embellished insecurity
Begging for a meal of ashes
Early morning pain, infatuation
A ****** companion's invective
Reminder of our unworthiness
As we consort with teardrops
Inquisitor's interview, infatuation
Smiling torture chamber
Turning idly in hand the implements
That will extract the truth of our ugliness
Gravedigger's labor, infatuation
Burying our faces in clenching fists
Knowing our hearts have finally done it
And sold us out for a smile
Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 7:33 PM UTC
Lilies mean I dare you to love me,
Yet no one ever dared before.
She wore unworthiness like armour,
Too afraid to ask for more.
But then their souls collided softly,
A feeling whispered, old yet new.
As if their atoms once had danced,
As if her heart already knew.
Stargazers were her favourite flowers,
Pink petals stretching toward the sky.
She never thought she’d be deserving,
Yet he brought them—without a why.
He told her love was hard to give,
That words don’t spill from heart to tongue.
But every act, each quiet moment,
Spoke of love he left unsung.
The day he gave her stargazers,
She learned that she could bloom as well.
That love was not a war to fight,
But something safe where she could dwell.
Still, they have never said the words,
Three small ones locked behind their lips.
But love is felt in all the ways
That words may falter, break, or slip.
And if they never pass through her,
Then may they come from him instead.
For she could never bear to hear
“I love you” from another’s breath.
Mar 15, 2025
Mar 15, 2025 at 12:47 PM UTC
Echoes of rejection skip the beats of my heart
Negative thoughts attach to my reasoning
like swarms of unrelenting gnats
as I drown in the swell of unworthiness
I am blinded by severe self judgement
Covered in the monotony of shame
I cower on feeble hands and skinned knees
trapped in my own prison of nauseating filth
I succumb to the assumptions of your silence
weighed down by bricks of uncertainty
My breathing ever so shallow
as I choke on the asphyxiation of despair
Longing for the communion of acceptance
but unwilling to beg for your approval
I suffer in the abyss of formless chaos
Projecting desperation onto a mirror with no reflection
Oct 24, 2018
Oct 24, 2018 at 3:53 PM UTC
Savor the sweetness of bad poetry, the crooked and cockeyed words,
the lame and bumpy thoughts of oblivion
Skip out the jumbled rhythm, and just roll with it
The road is not smooth, the jargon misplaced
Swift the **** pace by its carcass, caress your stiff neck, your strained eyes
the pen killed the message, the hands tremble in its confusion
It isn’t good, it isn’t sensual or soothing
It clumps in your throat, making disgust, flopping out of par
swing and miss, capture the drive, the stamina to make it through
Make the trudge, delve in the derelict
Can you make out the message, the theme?
or is it so bad you want to scream, or just cry from the injustice of bad lines
Do not line your thoughts in the flow, the swift, but let your soul sing the confusion of its blunted voice, let it bask in its commonality of bad taste
Do not pen out, but pen in
Do not bleep out, but bleat out
Scream your unworthiness, your crooked smiles, your cockeyed convulsions
Give us your bad poetry, God knows I have.
Jan 25, 2012
Jan 25, 2012 at 4:42 AM UTC
Aberrant bloom, you doggedly ungrow-
once scarlet, now a pale and formless bud
(much tidier to nip when drained of blood)
writhes grimly down into the earth below.
O! fruitless vine, you hide yourself away,
ashamed to drink the stars' sufficient light-
and so, though worthy in another’s sight,
unworthiness begets a sick decay.
Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 6:45 PM UTC