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Best Poems Written by Toxic Rapper

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What’s left of me

What would happen in the absence of my presence? I directed my gaze towards her, resting my head on her lap, and met her eyes. The depths of my heart would consume itself, seeking to alleviate the anguish caused by separation. Subsequently, my mind would assume control, becoming the sole arbiter of all emotional experiences. It would sense a profound sense of betrayal and transmit this message to the cells, causing them to agitate restlessly, unsure of who would facilitate the circulation of blood through the vessels. With the heart absent, the mind irrational, the cells frenzied, and the nerves severed, it would only be a matter of time before a fleeting and ominous thought infiltrated, whispering catastrophic conclusions. The heart, unable to quicken its pace to instill fear, the nervous system incapable of perceiving pain, the mind preoccupied to the point of neglect, and the cells having identified the body as their adversary – all these factors would culminate in my loss of functionality. Ultimately, in my state of non-functionality, I would cease to exist.

Copyright © Toxic Rapper | Year Posted 2024



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To the girl that got away:

To the girl that got away:

I want you to know that I never intended to create any distance between us or make you feel like our reality fell short of the romanticized version I portrayed in my writing. I want to assure you that the stories I wrote were never meant to replace or diminish our own unique journey together. They were simply an attempt to capture the depth of my feelings for you in a creative way. But I now realize that the "you" I had and the "you" I wrote were two completely separate people.

Copyright © Toxic Rapper | Year Posted 2024

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More harm than good

What is your biggest fear? My biggest fear is that when I'm away, I won't be able to save her and when I'm there, she'll need saving. Simultaneously, I'm killing her, leaving her open to an attack that could have been prevented if I offered her advice on what to watch out for or trained her for when the circumstance arises. Yet, I know that the greatest thing she'll need saving from is none other than... me. "When you stare long enough into the abyss, the abyss stares back at you." Is this not what I would do to her? The hatred, killings, and secrets can't remain hidden when you've taken a front row seat to be observed. So, tell me... was it worth it turning around on his knees, laid bare a Henry, pale in skin with no sound of thumping nor exhalations. A cold, grim reaper-like shudder pulsed throughout his body at the sight before him. Crying on the dead corpse that could no longer be called Henry, he lifted his head and looked me dead in the eyes. This blackness is what lies beneath in our souls. His eyes were carved out of the sockets and if you stared into them, it was none other than the very abyss I had talked about. I was staring back... at me.

Copyright © Toxic Rapper | Year Posted 2024

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Only you would know

And that night, amidst the overwhelming sadness of realizing that no one could truly comprehend the depth of my despair, there existed another layer of sorrow. It is a sorrow that no amount of warmth, pressure, or nostalgic memories can alleviate. Your presence, your body, constantly occupies my thoughts as I long to feel your gentle breath against the nape of my neck and yearn to capture your fragrance when I turn to seek solace. But alas, I am cruelly reminded that the only chill on my neck emanates from the frigid air entering through the wide-open window, causing the delicate snowflakes to dance in the room. The only reminder of you is the lingering scent of your "So in Love" perfume on my nightstand. So if it appears selfish of me to hold onto this pain, unable to forgive you for your actions, yet hoping you would release me from this desolation, please understand that it is a particular kind of sorrow, one that only you can comprehend.

Copyright © Toxic Rapper | Year Posted 2024

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Appearances

The distress... fatigue, combined with restlessness, tossing, and turning. Assuming I possess more energy than I truly do because what is worse, exhausting oneself or lying there, depleted? Many of us meet our end wishing we had remained true to ourselves. At the very least, I desire this aspect of me to persist until the very end. "Not everyone dies peacefully" - what is the intended significance behind this statement? It is not particularly profound, merely a thought process I had long ago as a child. I was involved in an accident, for which absolutely no one else but myself was to blame. My body was covered in bruises and cuts, and the doctor said the healing process would take at least a month, perhaps even longer. As a child, I believed that as long as I was alive, I would bounce back and be as good as new. Plus, I would have an entire month off from school to play games, watch TV, and sleep all day. It may have been a flawed mindset, but the tradeoff... I deemed it worthwhile. I was, however, naive. The pain was excruciating, and I had an aversion to strong medication that would keep me drowsy all day. My paranoia led me to believe that it would eventually kill me, perhaps by making me sleep and then preventing me from waking up. Therefore, I settled for ibuprofen and Tylenol. That is when I realized that I would not have a peaceful death. Back then, I despised myself. I was in a terrible state, and I did not want anyone to witness it. Consequently, I had my mother practically hand-deliver everything I needed. I cannot recall how long it took, but perhaps it was the realization that when things become challenging, we do not always get our way. That is, after all, the very reason why it is challenging in the first place. I went from a cheerful vacation to unbearable pain, and my frustration got the best of me. In those moments, instead of being grateful for my mother's care, I was annoyed and entitled. It seems like you have a point to make with this story, but you are taking quite some time to get there. What I am trying to convey is that if I am angry now, that is it - I will die angry. So, for now, I will smile. Let me pose a question to you: would you prefer others to cry or smile until the end? I have always been raised to believe in a higher power, so clearly we are meant to smile. However, it does not always seem to happen that way. If I had to choose, I honestly believe that they are equally difficult. I mean, let's be honest, you are barely holding on, your eyes are growing weary, anxiety is overwhelming you, and slowly your eyelids close, leaving only the sound of tears... What I fear is the approach of death, not death itself. On the other hand, we have smiles. Again, do not misunderstand me, there is no right or wrong answer, but I don't know... The fear that I am experiencing, combined with the anxiety of knowing but not knowing when, and having people acting "calm" - it would not bring me any comfort at all. We cannot both put on a facade; I need you to be genuine with me... It is just that I am looking at the time, and I cannot tell if my eyes are simply not focusing as they should or if it is finally drawing closer to that time. Yet, here I am, in a hospital room with people ready to burst into tears, maintaining a smile, keeping up appearances, while the butterflies in my stomach make me feel nauseous. My anxiety is off the charts because I know, yet do not know, when my time will be up. I am angry and frustrated, twisting and turning my head as if to say, "I am here - I am here, begging for help." I do not want to cry, but the tears just keep flowing down my face. And I am smiling, but inside, it hurts. It just hurts. I am screaming and yelling, kicking and punching, but the waves are too overpowering this time. I recall hating swimming because diving beneath the water's pressure gives me headaches, yet I find joy in it. I contemplate diving on one side, while the other side screams, "No!" Yet, I find pleasure in it, and the warm sun, that warm body on top of mine, continues to scream for me, as my silent screams transform into silence... altogether.

Copyright © Toxic Rapper | Year Posted 2024




Book: Shattered Sighs