Vent Poetry - Tumblr Posts

Corpse in The Mirror

I'm someone else again,

Or am I?

Through my eyes

In the mirror I see,

A living corpse,

That doesn't feel like me.

What am I?

Im going insane!

As I laugh away my pain.

Someone else, someone else,

Someone else not entirely.

I wake up with church bells.

Oh, lord Christ!

Heal me of my sickness!

And I feel like less.

Nothing can save me,

Help me,

Make me free.

Shackles are bound,

My arms and legs,

To the Lord I found.

I pray so loud,

But does he hear me?

I don't see.

With my Rapist

When I was 13,

I was raped,

Since then I've never felt clean,

Especially because it wasn't Typical SA.

He was 13 too,

And he still groomed me.

He took my hand, my will wasn't free,

I still said yes unknowing of what he put me through.

He only touched me but it still left a scar,

I never wanted his touch in the first place.

I was so in love like an alcoholic with a bar,

Now I shudder whenever I have to see his face.

He never showed me love,

And I was just a child.

I thought if I said yes he'd love me,

We were exclusive after all.

He broke up the very next day,

He even groomed me to do it with 13 instead of older like I wanted to,

So i was shattered and I begged him to stay,

Because how could he not love me after all he put me through?

I was just a child,

This was my first relationship.

Now i have to see him everyday,

And I have no say,

Because we go to school together.

Untitled 1

Birds are singing,

Their happy song strong against the rain.

I can't stop thinking,

But I'm fighting hard against my brain.

It just won't shut up,

I can't concentrate on the rain,

Or the birds chirping me luck,

The torture method is my brain.

I try hard not to listen further,

All it says is lies.

But I still can't stop thinking,

That I corrupted a soul.

I know it's up to them to break the rules,

But I did before them too,

And I broke them when she was here too,

And I told her that nobody would notice too.

Now I'm lying in my bed,

Staring at the corrupted soul.

I'm sorry lord for what I've bred,

Please make me feel whole!

I don't wanna sleep

I don't want to sleep,

Stay awake for All eternity.

Sleep isn't for the weak,

And I'm in my minds captivity.

I don't feel sleepy anymore,

My brain is slowly rotting.

There's one person im fighting for,

And my will to die im blocking.

Sleepy, sleepy, I don't feel it,

Till tomorrow I stay awake.

Sleepy, sleepy, suddenly I feel it,

And I fall asleep that isn't fake.

~Radúz Fleck

sTRaP m3 🌀 iNta a wOrLd wHeRe We'D 💫 FLOat aW@y 🚀 but nO, wE ✋💧arE TiE'd here, kn0tted t0 ThE bRoken FLooRbo@rds—👁⚡ eVeRything 🔪hurts, bUt We keEp MOVinG, riGht? 🦴💥 h0w Do wE exiST wHen 🌀 tiMe itSeLf 🕰️ feEls StRetcH'd tHin lIkE thE spACes beTWeeN ouR 🤯 MemOrIeS!? NoTh1Ng FeeLs rE@L. bUT it'S rEaL 💣 RIgHt?? waS it 🌙 eVEr rEal? 💔

wiLL wE eVer mATteR iN A pLAcE wHEre ⛓️ EVEryThinG wE ✂️tOuCH fALLs ApaRT? 🤡 tHE voiCes CRaSh inTA oUr 🧠 brAiN, thEY Lo0p & buZZzz liKE waSpS 🐝 iN thE Sk1N, anD wE 🌑 scrATch at ThEmaTch ThEm awaY but IT oNLY HurTS more…! 😰 eVeRy sCreAM is a VoiCe nOt OuRs and We knOw it bUt We CAn't QuIet iT, wE CAn't stoP thE MachINe frOm WHIrLInG awAy wIth 🎠 Us wHiLe tHe wOrLd tuRnS 💫 awAy. SpIRAling agAIn, aLwaYs 🔄 SpIRaLing! hAHa, aWe, buT waTch 🕶️ tHiS, tHey 🩸neVer reMEMbeR oUr PaiN unTil we ⛔ SHattER 👾!

Do ThEy SeE it, thE BLaCkH0l3 wE've 🌀 BeCOmE? oH No, beCAuse W3’Re hiDDen 🦑 In SidE 🧪 ThE EXhaUSTion tHat Tugs On Our B0dy 💉 FLEsH aT thE F0reFRoNt of DiSPair! 💔RUN 🏃 buT stAy rIgHt hEre!! NoPLaCe nO boDy, jUsT tHe VoID. 🌑

but 😏 we musT KeeP GoIng becAUSe StARS ✨still SHiNe EvEN iF we don’t FEEL theM BuRNiNG ❄️ riGht??? heh

🎭 but, nO reALly... 🍂 hoW mAny tImeS Do We HaVe tO KeeP Spinning thIS WhEeL beFOR eVERYthINg jUsT breAkS fOr g00d? 🌀 Th3 CrAcK$ iN oUr VoiD 🌑 geT wIdEr eVEry DaY bUt NoBOdy S@w thEM, DiD thEy? 🚪 NoBodY liSTENeD, whiSPers pASSed thRoUgH 📜 🕳️I'vE GoTTa bE LouD3r 🗣️ I'vE GoTt@ SCREAM LOud3r! 💢Do YoU HeAr me nOw? bUt tHey d0n't reAlLy HeAr Us, dO tHey? tHeY jUSt SEE. 👀See thE CrAcK$💥 anD 👁️, thEy CAll iT nOrMaL.

WHat iS nOrMaL in a WoRld liKe ThiS?🌪️ We dO THingS, bUt We d0n't reMEMber whY, theY cAll iT liFE, bUt iT 💀 FEELS lIkE deaTH, 😂rIGht?! haH! IsN'T tHat ThE jOkE? BeInG StUCK heRe... AGaIN. And AGaIN. 🎭 WHy doEs thE FeaR wEar US liKE a cO@t? DoEs iT KeeP Us WaRm? HeH, NOpe, JuSt mAkEs eVerYThing COLDer. ❄️

W3 TriED LeavINg. Oh, We tRIed...It nEVER WORKed...wHat'S WrOng wITH oUR LeGS? 🤡 tHEy dOn'T moVE wHERe wE WAnT theM tO... wHy CAn't wE FRee OursELvEs? is It Us? iS It thE CaGe? oH GoD thE CAGE!!! 🕸️ WHaT AbOut thE...KEY?! 🔑🌪️ Oh, s0rry, We l0St iT in ThE mIsT lONg tIMe AgO… heh, pOOF, gonE!

CAn't reMEMbeR hOW it eNdS...OR If it ENDS?!?

👾SCrAtcHIng at The b0TTom of SoMEThinG, but nOt QUitE thERE… sO cLosE to anSWers, yEt furThEr awAy thAn EvEr... and nO oNe cAN HeLP! Even IF theY diD, WOULD We LiSteN?... WOuld We CArE?

Heh, wE're jUSt… WaItInG. 🎶 WaItING for…WhAt? 💀 EVerYtHiNg tO fALL APaRT sO cOmPlEteLy that EvEN THE VoID getS TiRED of US??

our MIND’s a wretched twist-ed / n n n gnarled tree ROOTs all chaotically intertwined ⚙️🔪 trappinG US here, LOCKED UP! 🔒 barricaded w—ith ourselvesselfselfSELF. Tethered & burndened in some *corporeal* vessel, ❄️⛓️ bound 2 stone—TO EARTH!!! and what d’d’we get? A mother who isn’t there—not th-e-r-e [hiccup]—no matter how we scream SCRAPE S C R A T C H at the walls walls walls 🤍💀—SHE ONLY HEARS HER OWN heartbeat. HER O-w-wn pulse HER!! own mind (but the cats still purr & the boyfriend’s grins are familiar 😺🐾).

Can’t escape. nope nope ❌where wOULD we gO? this stupid decrepit MINDscaffold Is A House on stilts stilts stilts!!! ❄️NOthing to stand on anyway so why try the fall’ll just BURY us ⛓️ crush us 🗡️ break break break (BREAK—!! do it DO IT--)!! it’s gone GONE!!! under snow suffocating snow ourself is already drowning and she’s got no ears—NO EYES EITHER only fingertips on cold fur... l-o-v-e-l-y isn’t it? 🤍🩸

Being WATCHED 👁️👁️!!? By what? Ourselves? Other's peering from the black-hole ether—noone “real” comes close enough to touch & even if they did, it’s all STATIC, screen noise noise noise!!! ➿ text messages blip! like dying stars, those cursed void-blips and ghosted signals—we CAN’T leave, there’s *NOWHERE* to leave, our skin's an iron cage cage cage!!! No escape...never escape...✋🔒⛓️

Time means **nothing** TIME rots us from within 🧠❄️⏳ walls of dust sifting through our non-existent bones. 🤍 isolation eats the marrow of our consciousness gnaw gnaw gnaw the gnashing TEETH OF SILENCE! our mother’s boyfriend can’t hear this, oh NO!!! 🦷❄️🤍 To him, to her—her cats & their starry-furred backs—WE’RE (d) i s t a n t echos 🗣️ ➿ echoes locked in the back of a room barred for a THOUSAND YEARS or MORE & more & more &

Just. not. real.

But hey! haha. 😂 There’s this bright, bleeding-wound reality-shock, a CRY! a LAUGH! 🌠 if we rip ourSELF APART!!! it’s our OWN hands anyway *n-no one else’s here NO NO ONE here but Us!* 💀 just her bed and our own mirrored EYES. Our tongue gone NUMB ❄️ limbs frozen against drywall [crack snap crack]—head’s hollowing hollow hollow h-- it’s alright-- it’s “OKAY” isn’t it?

At least—

It’s...consistently...terrible...consistent...

& oh OH how the ground gives way... voicesfadingout

I Don’t Want to Cry

I’ve hung up my phone.

The conversation is over. But I can’t stand what I’ve just heard.

People are waiting for me.

But I don’t want to face them. I don’t want to burden them. Not this time of year. Not when we’re supposed to be happy. I lay back on my bed with one thought burning consciously and subconsciously.

I don’t want to cry.

I can sit there. I can be a statue. I can freeze in the moment and never move again. Let me do this, please.

I don’t want to cry.

I can fiddle with my phone. Play a game. Check email. Do something.

I just don’t want to cry.

The words echo. The thoughts brew.

Can’t wait. Tired. No more.

...

Goodbye.

Don’t cry.

Am I a failure?

I don’t want to cry.

I breathe. I sit. I tear off my glasses and close my eyes.

No more desire. Just a rigid command.

Don’t cry.

Footsteps come from the hall outside. I don’t want to see anyone, but I can’t avoid it. I sit up. My glasses are back on again. My eyes are stinging. She enters. I can’t look at her, so I don’t.

Don’t. Cry.

Two arms wrap around me. All I see is the carpet beneath my feet.

Please ... don’t.

Words flow.

I don’t ... I can’t. I just ... can’t.

...

Damn it.

Molten lead boils out my chest, into my head, and out my eyes. Noxious gas spurts in betraying hiccups from my mouth. The dreaded sob, anathema to every proud man and woman on the planet. We don’t cry. We’re not supposed to cry. Crying is weakness. Crying is shame. Crying is-- Crying is.......

Crying is happening.

I don’t want to cry. But I can’t stop it. And I hate myself for it. I hate myself for a lot of things. Because I don’t have the power to change my circumstances as they are. And I find myself questioning every word. Every thought. Every action I ever made. Even as those words draw each drop and spurt out of me.

I’m hot. I’m a molten mess. But still those arms hang on.

And slowly, the geyser cools. The eruption eases into a subtle series of aftershocks that gradually fade to silence.

Cracks form along my eyes as liquid dries and cools. A gentle wind blows the fumes away. And those words and actions that drew the tears out now sooth and cleanse.

They promise a better future. They promise mending. And they know.

They know, because they have lived. They have felt those tremors and survived.

I look up.

I still don’t want to cry. That hasn’t changed.

But my sister knows this well.

Love hurt me. And love will heal me. In time.

She made it through. Not once. Not twice. But three times before she found the one.

And she will help me when I’m ready to move on.

The pain still isn’t gone.

But it is at least a little less.

I still don’t want to cry. I still don’t like it.

But I did need it.

And there is no shame in that.

There is nature in it. Some pain. And most importantly, at the end, hope.

Shakespeare said it best. To be a man, I must feel like a man.

If God can cry, why can’t I?

I can.

And though I still don’t want to, I probably will a few times more before my life is done.

And that’s okay.

So long as I keep moving forward as best I can.

Then, maybe, if I’m lucky, that pile of slag will become something far more precious.

And I will be made new again, like the phoenix of myth.

Tears to cleanse. Tears to heal. And tears to be born again.

I don’t want to cry.

But I will to move forward. I will, to be born again.

And I will be.

It will just take time.

quiet

you’re quiet.

i’ve been told that my whole life.

but i’m not, not really.

i just learned young that no one was listening

be quiet.

don’t take up space, don’t be too much

no one actually cares what i have to say

no one’s listening when i speak, unless it’s what they want to hear

i don’t want to be quiet

i want someone to care about what i care about

to hear me and want to hear more

to listen to what i have to say

i spend my days quiet

i’m a watcher, a listener

i smile and nod and wish it were me instead

i want to be listened to, the way i listen

i want to be seen, the way i see

cared about the way i care

be quiet

listen to me.

i have things to say, things i care about

things i wish people cared enough to hear

things i wish people would listen to.

it’s quiet

with no one to talk to.

when it seems like the world is deaf

no one seems to care what i have to say

i wish desperately that they did, but i know they don’t

there’s nothing i can do about it.

i’ll be quiet

every time i speak someone ends up annoyed

it’s easier to just not bother

keep the words inside so no one gets fed up with me

won’t open my mouth to say things no one wants to hear

won’t rock the boat

won’t make a splash

won’t make a sound

i’ll stay quiet

why speak if no one is listening?

or when they are the words are wrong.

you said that already.

we already know.

you shouldn’t say that.

don’t speak.

no one’s listening anyway.

they don’t tell me to be quiet

it’s subtler than that

it’s no questions, no curiosity

it’s when i bring up a topic and no one’s heard of it

the blank looks while they wait for me to stop

no one tries to learn. wants to listen

it’s in the way they speak and expect me to listen.

when is it my turn to be loud?

when is it my turn to be heard?

when is it my turn to be listened to and have someone care what i say?

when can i stop being quiet?

♤

marks in the flesh always run deeply

some ink

some scar

some something else

we think of things when we look at them

feel things

remember things

some fond

some painful

some complicated

it may have been your choice

it may have not

but the mark will never care

and no matter what you do to it,

the mark will stay right there

the reaper

even though the reaper is depicted as cold and grim,

his embrace tempts me daily

his outstretched arms call me kindly

he smiles softly

he waits patiently

i shouldn't keep him waiting

but i will for now

-i

They say that art is

Born from a place of great pain

Does that make this art?

All I do is hate myself and stay inside the house..

I'll cut myself if stupid s*** comes out my f****** mouth..

My mother loves me but to her I feel I'm a f****** louse..

I love my family but depression won't let me reach out..

The thought that they know of my struggle? that I f****** doubt

In their mind Im probably a potato on a fuckin couch..

That what they think? / Maybe / I just want someone save me! But Not even Me can save Me!!/All I know is I F****** HATE ME!!!!

A peace of shit / mentally sick / no kids / no fuckin spouse..

My brain's so filled with shit!/ I hate it! Just wanna rip it out!!!

I scream and cut in silence so the neighbors won't hear me shout!!

This so called life I'm urged to call it quits and blow my brains out

~thaunknowndreadhead~

I want a cease and desist/ for MYSELF to cease to exist/ you can tell I hate myself just by the scars on my wrist/ they're laden slit after slit scar tissue crispity crisp/ I know its vulgar even I despise the words from my lips /sorry but when at my lowest self hate is what seems to showeth/ an entity that is myself/ God I wish I didn't know it.

So sorry to my family for me ghosting y'all/ I swear to God it isn't my #1 choice at all/ Not really a conscious choice it just happens and I disappear/ for days then days turn into months/ months turn into years/ ..I'd rather be around all the time ok now that's wassup up/ but y'all shouldn't have to hear it whenever my mind erupts/ whether meltdown or rage fit/ I wanna keep y'all away from it/ y'all my people and I love y'all/ I just wanna to keep you safe from it...

Negativity is contagious. I kinda have peace knowing my family don't have to be around my uneasy mind even though I miss them at the same time. Its a tough spot to sit in. Kinda like you are playing tug of war with ya self nonstop. It's exhausting. More than anyone probably will ever know.

Heavy stress/ daily dealin wit a lot of it/ so tired of it/ I wanna fling that shit like hippopotamuses

I once thanked you for teaching me to be more self-reliant, for helping guide me along the path of growth. I won't deny it's a lesson I needed to learn. But I question now if it had to be done so harshly, if there had been a way that wasn't as barbed, that didn't cut as deep.

My parents started that lesson early, that learning was painful. That questions were bad. That I am wrong. That I am not wanted the way that I am. That I need to be better. And I used to think that maybe I'm just difficult, maybe they're forced to teach me the hard way.

I suppose I might never know the answer. But I wonder if I could have still learned those lessons in a gentler way, if someone had been kinder.

You said, "I can't believe it, why would she think of us like that? How could she be scared?"

And I thought, "Because she watched it happen. She watched you do it to me."

Vent Poetry

Shit Is Fuck For Me Right Now So I Impulsively Made This To Cope. Sorrry If It’s Cringy And Stupid

I am on a voyage

Far into the sea

Away from everything that could harm me

My own body feels as if it’s rumbling

Bubbling

Craving a way to escape

I am on a journey

Across the ocean

On a boat with just me

No crew

No first mate

Me

The soft rocking of the sea

Suddenly the fears of what lies beneath

Is so little

I am on a journey

Past the island that holds the one eyed beasts

Past the island of the dreaded witch

Past the entrance to the land of the afterlife

Past the sirens

Past the cave of the multi-headed beast

And the whirlpools

Past the island of the sun

Past the island

That gives me a disgustingly familiar taste

In my throat

Far

Far

I am no King

I am not even the King of my own life

Ithaca can only squeal

As I close my eyes

I will just continue on the water

Deeper

Deeper

Until all I hear nothing

But the sound of the sea god

Crooning my name

Into an endless

Loving sleep

I am on a journey

An Odyssey

Far

Far

Away

From here

the nature of kindness (poem)

midday coffee

on a run

ask if anybody wants some

what's your order, you may ask

I recite back their favourites with a laugh

oat milk latte for one

almond cappuccino, vanilla shot

long iced black, dark as night

a thank you, to my delight

but when is it asked in return

does anyone know what I default to?

does anyone know I take my coffee sweet

one sugar, or shot of hazelnut

strong espresso, chocolate top?

getting gifts is not so easy

but I remember what they like

this one likes purple, no fruit and nut

this one likes mint, and fancy shots

that one likes joke gifts with a bit of heart

that one likes books that are slightly dark

seeing things and think of them

trying my best to make them smile

or help them out on daunting dates

checking in, what can I do?

to make this hard thing easier

and help you get through?

do I really make it that hard

to receive kindness in return

is what surrounds me that difficult

to bypass to get the love I yearn?

am I really that high maintenance

or maybe just so worthless that they

put me last on their lists

an afterthought for the ages

because I make myself so small

because I don't want to be an inconvenience at all?

because I don't remember the last time

someone asked if I wanted coffee

or remembered my favourite flower

sent me good luck for something daunting

I'd be doing on that hour

the crowd clears, one by one

or even two by two

and left alone with no-one

well, that's the hard truth.

isn't it?

(I'm just too hard to be kind to.)

all alone

again

no apologies

this time

shameless

cant mend

boundaries

rhyme

what rhymes

with forsaken

nothing

foreign on the tongue

rending

all things useless

hung

up to dry

again

evaporated love

shove

it down my throat

just dont keep it

please

- Nothing Rhymes With Forsaken