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Nayya Ayyan Aug 2014
You were, but a music freak
And I
Just another song
Removed from playlist
After being overplayed
Elizabeth Zenk Nov 2018
on the chessboard of life,
i am no more than a ****.
a fruitless tree in an astoundingly vast orchid.
a candle that lacks a wick, a flame that never flickers.
a hypothetical being without a purpose or plan.
the hypocritical brute, who is fattened on self-grandeur and sick off narcissistic thoughts.
in the dictionary of life
i am no more than a punctuation mark,
a mere dot on a piece of paper,
trying to clarify the stew of words, flung together by an equally trifling author.
i am nothing
s v e n Nov 2018
I am cold.
I am heartless.
I am nothing.
I am pointless.
I am a waste of space.
I am no good.
I am dirt.
I am ****.
I am toxic.
I am a disappointment.

I am just worthless and nothing more.
Nicole Alyssia Aug 2016
Go ahead...
Hit me.

There's nothing
You can do to me
That will hurt me
More than I hurt myself
Jonathan Oct 2018
That got your attention
Didn't it?
Even though I am a stranger
Who couldn't possibly know it to be true
And worth is subjective
Those who know you would disagree
And point out your merits
And you would weigh yourself
To realise that not all parts are equal
Who am I to say such things?

And yet you take the time to read it
Reread, incase you misread
In reading you contemplate it's truth
You are my puppet, and me your puppeteer
How could you be such a sheep!

Why are you amused?
Why does insult carry more meaning than praise?

It's easy to hurt.
Sticks and stones may break your bones
But words can make you think you deserved it.
We are social beings and so
We look for validation
But insult stands out
It leaves a branded mark in our brains
And so we spotlight it

It's easy to be sad.
But it's fulfilling to be happy.
Being positive is hard
But it's worth it in the end.

How could I possibly know?
I couldn't.
But I do.
And soon you will too.

What are you doing now?

You are reading!

Now you are smiling.
You're Wonderful

Inspired by Dennis Willis's "You Are a Hallucination"

Sticks and stones line borrowed from xkcd's comic.
Lucy Oct 2018
I'm trapped and enclosed.

Buried under paranoia.

I fear he will leave.

Replaced by Chanel perfume and deception, cat like eyes and caramelized extensions.

Drowning under mental images I've created. Mentions being spoken.

Inevitable feelings I try to avoid, but I can not.

Her existence makes me melt, even though we have never met.

My thoughts are too much to bare.

I despise this naked evil.
MeanAileen Mar 2017
YOU hurt me in ways
like no one else before,
cutting me deep-
right down to the core.

YOU beat me up
without lifting a hand,
reminding me exactly
where I stand.

YOU love to **** with me
building my hopes-
making me the ****
of all of your jokes.

YOU shove your money
and life in my face,
finding it funny
that my life's a disgrace.

YOU give me your love
just to rip it away-
an unworthy ****
in the game you play.

YOU think that I'm ****
I'm well aware,
to all the others
I just don't compare.

YOU treat me like I'm
a worthless ****,
barely good enough
for you to ****.

YOU boldly look me
straight in the eyes
and feed me so many
******* lies.

But please don't stop,
I love it this way!
Choking on every
cruel word you say....

For I am too spineless
to ever stand tall,
and I'd rather feel pain
then nothing at all.
I'm a sucker for punishment, I guess....
Everything I see,
Turns into ideas.
Poems, paintings,
Music, art.
My life is full,
Drafts everywhere.
Surrounded by
Undone paintings.
I Sometimes
Have to,
Clean it all up.
Delete, Erase,
Rip apart.
So you can go now.
I don't need you,
You're a
Worthless idea.
It's all

< >
I'm writing a small poem every day, about how I feel or the world around me. This is #6
Deadwood Jawn Nov 2018
"I do mush with the right people I suppose

                                                   ­                                            "With me?"

In some sense"

                                                         ­                                        "Ahh.. "

I didn't mean that bad"

In some sense...

                In some sense...
                                                I­n some sense...

                                                       ­        In

Some sense...

                                                       ­             Some sense..




   i  n     s  o  m  e      s  e  n   s   e    .   .   .

                                                         o    m   e           s      e        n       s       e
         ­                                         i                "It's OK, you should be
                                                  n             ­    honest.
                                                  s      ­           Surely I mean enough to you
                                                  o             ­    to not make you lie to me.."
   ­                                                         e       ­       s           e        n        s        e

                                  ­                                            i
                   ­                                                        n

­                                                           o

              ­                     s
       ­       s
   ... e

Not now.
Extracted from an exchange I had. Misfire. I decided to confront what really happened after that was said. View on a desktop for the intended layout. Or turn phone sideways
Tyler Atherton Sep 2018
who am i?
what am i?
Do I really exist?
What form of life Do I have here?
Is my identity really determined by my actions?
If so, that makes me someone who'd rather write than live.
But is that all i am?

I am creative and self-destructive
naturally skilled and unproductive.
I am fragile yet tough as a man,
struggle thru life with no real plan.

As each day passes I can feel it,
I'm slowly losing a part of my identity.

My friends are all screaming;
"who are you!?!"
"is your mask anything like you!?!"

My head is hurting,
I don’t know how it’s still on.
I'm still aching,
After all the breaking that has been done.

© Copyright Tyler Atherton
Elizabeth Zenk Jul 2018
If I try and let go of you
I'll get hurt in the progress
because without you
I feel like I'm worthless
completely worthless
I am less than you. You are greater than me.
and everybody
else knows it
Strands of worthlessness
Dangling beneath rods of hope
Falls to grieving floors
current mood.....sorry.
James Sep 2018
I was told (once) that if I could only make up a perfect story, that, that woman, who stole almost everything from men, would fall for me; would, maybe destroy me and leave me for dead. Would, maybe, ship me off without my pen and belt, and force me to paint her with no training. She’d want something that resembles something by Claude Monet; Do you know how difficult that is? That’s the fun though; she’d cut me off so many times; she’d remind me how many others could paint better; she’d explain, in beautiful detail, just how useless my hands were. Well, I hope she’s satisfied with my work; I’m sorry I finished early; I’m really no man; Goodnight, goodnight, I hope you’re sleeping; so I can finally leave.
Love Again
Nothing Again
Worthless empty hands
Eden Quinn Feb 17
The mud-covered hands on that little body
trying to reach the iridescent blackberries.
And the clumsy tries
which directly grabbed the sharp thorns,
caused burning pain and red fluid
dripping out of slim fingertips.
"But I want them soooo bad",
the little figure whine while
stretching it´s legs until they started hurting.
Salty tears poured down it´s cheeks,
down it´s chin - and then -
onto the red fluid on it´s fingertips.
Sitting in the dark, licking it´s fingertips,
the figure tried to reach them again,
mixing red fluid, sticky spit, the juice of
squeezed blackberries and
the strongest ambition known to humanity.

If reaching blackberries was worth so much pain,
then why is nothing anymore?

I grew up in a little valley and every summer I used to collect all the blackberries. Even though my fingertips always ended up pink-reddish because of the thorns and my clumsy tries, it was so much fun.
Now, that I´ve been diagnosed with (social) anxiety, depression and bulimia, I really want to turn back time.
Louise Feb 24
you’ll never know me
or my deepest secrets.
i just want to let you know that
because of you i am afraid
of the feeling that’s called love.
i have lost myself, too
isn’t that enough to you?
i guess you don’t care
or you don’t want to hear it,
but i really need to know.
so tell me, am i worthless
in your eyes?

l. h.
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