The poem as prey, as blood luscious, elusive. The poem as the locked room.
37 posts
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Is it normal to grieve yourself?
And still yearn the grief?
To know you'll be eternally hurting,
Why is it such a relief?
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More Posts from Unlikelyanonymous
There is love in my mother's disapproval.
It is there in the way she looks at me,
The way she loathes my existence.
It's not visible but it's there.
There is love in my father's resentment.
It is there in the way he talks to me,
The way he is ashamed of me.
It's not apparent but it's there.
There is love in my family.
It is there in broken dreams.
It is there in domestic scars.
So much love that you almost mistake it for hate.

he called me neurotic
but what i think he really meant
was that the roots of my anxiety
are growing deep within my head
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sometimes my thoughts run far
away, escape all rhyme and reason
the seeds of logic overthrown
by the fruits of anxious seasons
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i just take my time to breathe
and think up a solution
i take a minute and i trawl
through the depths of this pollution
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poison planted in my mind
by words and dirty looks i catch
in a net of pure self hate
in which fearful thoughts hatch
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he called me neurotic
and sure, ill take it on the nose
my garden of fear and self hate
truly needed that last rose.
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(photo via)
What is family if not hate disguised as love
If I believed in god I would ask him why he did this to me.
But I do not.
If I believed in myself I would ask me how I let this happen.
But I do not
I wish I was religious so atleast I could pray to something.
But I talk to god and the sky is empty.
For nothing can restore my faith,
This is not the world I wish to live in.
I wish I was what my parents wanted me to be.
But I look in the mirror and I am empty.
Nothing can restore my self,
This is not the body I wish to be in.
I scream and cry and yell at you to have given me this life.
Birthed me ugly,broken,tarnished and useless.
Ruined me and made me hate myself.
But what right do I have to blame you or anyone else?
For no one has been as cruel to me,
As I have been to myself.
You didn't ruin me; I just hate myself.