Archive for the ‘Hurt Poetry’ Category

A poem I’ve written under the name “Lauren Black”

Voling Thermo

How subtle this gathering
How lovely this family is
With their eyes locked at
With their lies sealed in
Open lips smacking
When chatting and dining
How so cultural
See how we keep on pretending.

Glory to the queen
And her servants
Here comes the princess
I’m not up for the crown.

How inspiring this welcoming
How faultless everything is
With their mouth murmuring
About outspoken chattering
Bright faces smiling
When inquiring and indicting
Such professionalism
On how we keep on dissembling.

Glory to her majesty
And one of her heir
Here comes the parade
I’m not up for the charade.

I may be never be your favorite daughter
Under secrets and false pretenses attempts
Oh how you’ve become such an exemplary mother
To the neighbors, my sister and both’s friends
But to me you will always be a symbol
One that I could never dare to interrogate
Excuse me for being so upfront and so bold
For I cannot excuse the things you allegate.

Glory to her illustriousness
May the children of her children
Follow on her footsteps
Cause I…
I’m not up for the pretense.

Excuse me for being so upfront and so bold
For I cannot excuse the things you allegate.
Sorry for not trusting the pretexts I’ve been told
For I can never truly depend while you dissimulate.


Deaf Ears

Posted: December 20, 2017 in Angry Poetry, Dark Poetry, Hurt Poetry
Tags: , , , , , ,

Deaf Ears

Nothing that I say will hurt you
Nothing will haunt you in here
And I’m trying as to hurt you as you’ve been hurting me
But you have your apathy which rules over your feelings
And your denial, and you “get out of jail free” card
And the friends who are hypocrites and suck it up to you
How can someone have so much power?
But every empire fall to its feet
Every empire eventually turns to dust
I’m the one to tell you that you’re wrong
While everyone else has been too afraid to
You have too much self-centeredness
I’m the one to pull you down to level the inequality
You feel too proud for the things you do
Like anyone owes you anything
Your lack of self-consciousness
You don’t think about the consequences of your actions
And you deny the aftermath you’ve caused in the lives of others
As if you’re not at fault here
As if you’re not to blame
You’ve been put on a pedestal by wealthy people
And those in need don’t ever deserve your pity
But you’re looking down on them
As if saying “they got there because they didn’t try as hard me”
When you have been given everything on a silver plate
Except for the essential
That’s why you’ll never find out where you come from
You’re half a person
Tearing everything in half
Your heart is putrid
And your love is tainted
You cannot relate
Cause you feel confortable
You feel in the position to say or do whatever
You think that the womb of your procreator is your place in your bigoted empire
You think you come from monarchy
But you have no respect for the respectable, the poor, the needy and the humble
Cause inside your black heart you’re like your ancestors
Selfishly proud of thinking your untouchable
But for me you have become nothing but scum, the worst kind
Let this fall on your deaf ears
‘Cause you only have hearing for those who come to praise you
But for me, you’re insignificant as long as you hold onto your self-delusion of greatness.

That Muscle Called the Heart

So the ghost of the face of you stood frozen in my screen
It’s the most beautiful and heart-breaking thing I’ve ever seen
My fingertips try to feel your life, but they can never reach
I imagine where you are, maybe out there in the mall or enjoying the sun in the beach.

This road here is leading nowhere, I’m stuck in the same place
When I first came I promised my love I’d overcome all this pain
Now I feel like I’m at the end of my rope, the end of this race
And I never amounted to anything, and I have nobody else to blame.

So when will, if ever, this show finally close its curtains?
I’ve exposed my life to the point that everyone knows a piece of me
Don’t you know I want to run and be like it was in the beginning?
With the innocence, and a smile and the hope that everything will fix itself.

So the ghost of the face of you stood frozen in my screen
Reminding everything I’ve lost, and how lost I have been
My fingertips try to feel your life, but they can never reach
I wish I could be for you a good example, but the distance won’t allow me to teach.

You’ll only know what they’ve told you about me
The only person that you’ll have missing in your life
Oh, my children, you don’t know much I wish to have you here with me
But instead I have to confront this endless loop of strife.

When your mind wanders off…

Scribbles on a Note

I wish I was better than this
I wish I could grow some confidence
Cause inside of myself, me,
And I, never trust enough to overcome.

I wish I was better than this
I wish I could believe what you tell me
Cause inside I, die, little by little
Trying to figure out the answers to these riddles.

It’s nothing that I haven’t said before
I’m just lying here in the corner
Crawling here on the floor
Trying to find the missing pieces
That could make myself complete once more.

Nobody wants you to be losing
But nobody likes when you win
They want you in between these two things
But I’ve always liked the extremes.

I wish I was better than this
Wish I could live a simpler life
*Sigh* What is there for me?…
If all that’s true turns into lies?

The Narrative

It feels lonely in this empty place of my mind
The ghosts are taking a vacation on the world outside
It’s just me with no other self, no other version
Is this a trap set by them? Are they trying to create a diversion?

The other day I received a message from the land of the living
Those beautiful words gave me a false sense of hope
My heart is convinced that the things to come will be disappointing
Like any suicidal body hanging by the end of its rope.

It’s been week since the last discussion we had about life
You made me enter to that place I hate the most
Jaws semi-open, ears pent up, when you talk of your wife
There’s no expectancy when you’re just a ghost.

I received a phone call the other day; it was a long lost friend
We laughed and smiled and pretended that we were doing okay
How can friendship ever evolved if it doesn’t become trenched?
Over that conversation there are a millions things one could say.

This is the story that has been dictated by the ill-fated mouths
They like to put a little a bit of gore where my body bled
There’s not much hope for Heavens when you’re heading south
They tend to remind about things I try so hard to forget.

The Conversation

This internal struggle is growling
And looking out for the hunt
All that it seems is to be hurting
The ones I care about the most.

I tend to make people feel like they’re not enough
Probably because it’s the way I feel about myself
I don’t know how to make you feel this hurt as much
So I hurt you intentionally so you would hurt in yourself.

This self-reflection is momentarily
Later I’ll find an excuse not to
All that I do is hurt emotionally
The ones I feel have hurt me too.

I tend to make people feel like they’re useless
Probably because I feel pretty useless myself
I don’t know how to make you see all this as such
So I hurt you intentionally so you would hurt in yourself.

Oh how we promised to each other to be safe havens
Oh how we promised to each other that would be safe
And now that our rotten corpses are eaten by ravens
We still signify in account for our many, many mistakes.

I think we should’ve had this conversation long time ago
We would’ve had better comprehension of things going on
Oh how my broken heart can’t help yours be fixed, oh no
But how I wish we could simply heal each other all along.

Self-fulfilling Prophecy

Going in circles in a deprecating predestination
Everything is where is needed to be in order to fail
I keep forgetting the answers for every question
I still remember the ending for this unpleasant tale.

They say the power is in my hands
As if I have the complex enough to believe in any of that
My problem here is that I’m self-aware
That no matter how hard I try things will go always go bad.

Going in circles ‘cause I’m programed to stay in repeat
That fucking stupid little light that I still cannot kill
I keep forgetting why I get up if again I’ll be on defeat
The only process that never begins is the one that heals.

They say that I have the control
If I did I would’ve changed all of this shit a long time ago
My problem is ignoring the problem
That no matter how much I try, I truly can never let go.

This is my self-fulfilling prophecy
For every one who has ever been fucked
For every one who has given up
For every one who lives in the darkness.

This creation is of my own
I decided to have my own life destroyed
I decided to have everything taken away
I decided to get hurt over and over again.

Did I also decide for you?
Did I also push you to hurt me as much?
For every gun that has been pointed at my face
Was I one who controlled if or not they would pull the trigger?