Best Breakdown Poems
Heres comes the nervous breakdown,
quick depression into slow anxiety.
Heres comes the nervous breakdown,
swallowing pity of yourself.
Heres comes the nervous breakdown,
cold heat shaking your bones.
Heres comes the nervous breakdown,
aching brain, twitching veins.
It's the nervous breakdown
with explosive results.
Why the nervous breakdown?
Because too much knowledge provokes me.
Bring the nervous breakdown,
sadistic, painful enticing.
Stop the nervous breakdown,
I cant find my purity.
Hopeless enemies
of ones self slipping
into my mind of cleanliness,
polluting my being, turning
it into an everlasting jungle of mazes
containing horrible truth of
my family, my friends, my country.
I want it back.
I want it back.
I want it back.
My original self,
my starting line,
my old life.
Why has the essence of family tainted
what is theirs to enhance?
My head hurts,
it bubbles with the
honest to god reality
that is my creation.
Still the nervous breakdown,
here only minutes but already
it is acquainted with me.
Now I shall begin life anew
into an anxious depressed, shiny and new.
Old self being.
But if I'm finally used to my new attachment
then
why
does
my
head still hurt?
Quiet my jangling head
[marbles set loose in a drain pipe]
Silence churning doubts
[acid bath of corrosive thought]
Calm my rasping breath
[jagged edges of restricted output]
Cease excessive activity
[upanddown the spiral staircase]
Steady my stricken hands
[pounding pegs into nonexistent holes]
Undo me.
They say boys don’t cry.
They say it like a promise.
Like strength is stitched in our skin at birth
and weakness is something
you have to unzip your chest to find.
I was eight
when I learned that sadness had a gender.
That girls get tissues,
and boys get told to “tough it out.”
That scraped knees get band-aids,
but broken hearts?
Those just get buried under
“man up”
and “you’ll be fine.”
I was twelve
when my dad said,
“Stop acting like a girl.”
Like emotions were diseases
and I’d caught one.
So I stopped.
Stopped crying.
Stopped talking.
Stopped needing anything
that made me look soft.
Because being soft
felt like being disposable.
And you wonder why boys break things
before they break down?
Why fists meet walls before feelings meet words?
We are taught to bottle it up—
but no one tells you what happens
when the pressure hits the glass ceiling of your skull.
I walk hallways with a smile that’s a lie.
Teachers don’t ask.
Friends don’t see.
And the counselor?
Too busy with the loud kids,
the girls who cry pretty in bathrooms.
My silence doesn’t make a scene.
It just echoes.
Some nights I scream
into pillows
so I don’t have to apologize
for having a voice.
But no one sees bruises
when they’re on the inside.
No one asks
if you're okay
when your mask fits perfectly.
And I want to tell you—
depression wears cologne too.
Anxiety knows how to laugh at jokes.
Panic attacks can come
after touchdowns and straight A’s.
I want to scream:
Check on your boys.
Check on the ones who always say, “I’m good.”
Check on the ones whose humor hits too hard,
too fast,
like they’re trying to dodge their own thoughts.
Because we are drowning
in plain sight.
We are falling
but our hands look like fists,
so no one thinks to catch us.
We are breaking
in ways that look like silence.
And silence
doesn’t make noise
until it’s too late.
Just sittin alone at my barstool
yes, darling, I'm feelin real fine
and I confess, I admire your dress
yet I have to withhold the next line.
Cause there ain't many days till my breakdown
this darkness is comin on strong
I'd love to reptile to your come hither smile
but my downtime will soon be along.
You truly are lovely, sweet darlin
your red lips and golden hair crown
are leadin me into temptation
but the whirlpool will pull us both down.
Cause there ain't many days till my breakdown
this darkness is comin on strong
I'd love to reptile to your come hither smile
but my downtime will soon be along.
So mosey on down to another
to give you the life you desire
leave me alone, to sort out my own
if joined we'd both end in hellfire.
Cause there ain't many days till my breakdown
this darkness is comin on strong
I'd love to reptile to your come hither smile
but my downtime will soon be along.
Entry - A Town called "Rotgut"
This started with the refrain and was going to be a sad country song
about depression, but then it met this contest and morphed, I'm not sure into what. Regardless, I hear steel or maybe slide guitar, in the forefront drowning
out the lyrics for the good of all.
DWR
Iulius MMXIV
feel so heavy,
Weighed down by an anchor
No one can physically see.
I'm expected to be okay
To live a normal life
While dealing with a
chemical imbalance,
An emotional disturbance
Whose presenting symptoms are
Self destructive binges
And manic tangents
That have labeled me reckless
And often left me stranded.
I dive head first into
Waves crashing
Tearing it's way through
The walls I've built.
My fortress is unstable
There are weak spots
And some stains have
Remained.
These walls sometimes feel
Like they are 40 miles tall
And forged of steel
In that very moment
I feel so alone...
When surrounded by people
When introduced to anyone or anything new,
When one those new additions
causes changes to the flow
Of things
Who Dares to get too close or
challenge the authenticity
Of my disorders
By questioning my mental state.
Surely,
There's truth to the trauma,
Or it wouldn't continuously bother me
Causing catastrophic events,
Filling my head with memories
that never seem to end.
My mind short
In the Pocket
For years Nana begged for a holiday
But pop's only passion was Faraday
He failed to do the math
Created a psychopath
She smirked, "Give my regards to Hemingway."
(Pocket: Some surfers call this the energy zone and it can be identified as the steepest point in the wave.)
Red is the story of love
Till the never bit ending
Like the amazing gift from above
As his hands were nailed and knees bending.
Orange is the story of temptation
Making life a bit hazy
Full of manipulation
The world is going crazy.
Yellow is the story of passion
Swallowed by the depths of the eyes
As they begin clashing
Caught in a trance and mesmerized.
Green is the story of envy
Torn between love and hate
Sending goosebumps into a frenzy
Plundering up traps for bait.
Blue is the story of sadness
With tears running down
Forever lost in the world of darkness
A smile spinning around into a frown.
Purple is the story of madness
As the world turns
Uncovering all the badness
As the world burns.
The rainbow is miraculous colors of emotion
Sometimes misread and not understood
Like the power of potion
Also used like a hood.
The equivalent of a cosmic flat tire, the star collector overheated again.
Should've topped off the subzero heat transmogger back at Stuckey's.
Yep we have 'em too.., who doesn't need a Pecan Log Roll, now and then.
Two Roadway startruckers snapped up the last Elmer's paste pies., the luckys.
Right between filling stations to boot, no triple A for a gojillion miles..
and one of my best pint sized, non-binary service robots on the blink.
Not my best idea, feeding her moonshrooms, peaked all his cortial dials,
eventually caused them to puke it up, all over my excremental sink.
Frazusoosh it! not even a UPB (Universal Phone Booth) to make a collect call,
to my mother (planet), which, by the way, is also useful for transmitting matter.
That's assuming you can find someone to accept the charges, of course, LOL.
Had to wash dishes for an eternity, last time, including dried on crupecake batter.
Drack's balls! stuck on this puny planet with obnoxious fumes corroding my chromium tail.
No wonder they call it air; the sixth least favorite word in the Corpadian lingo, P.U.!
Those creatures keep staring, I've tried to reason with them, even tried telepthy to no avail.
When I type in their reply to my trans-googling translator, all it comes back as is 'Moo'.
Oh thank goodness! A family of grubbers in a U Haul pulling over., whew!
Though probably have to sit on a lap, luckily they each have two.
252 words, including these
Technological Breakdown.
.
Has Hi-tech technology
Now gone too far
That we seem lost without
In this hedonistic instant gratification
Obsessed days
.
Or were we better without it yesterday
When life was simpler and less complicated
In so many different ways
.
Of course it has made life easier
And communication better still
But I think it's gone too far
We are moving too fast
In a speeding burning car
Without a brake
.
For the good souls it’s a useful tool
But for the evil one’s
A Devils playground
With souls to take
Leaving devastation
Within it’s corruptive wake
.
Where is the joy today?
For the evil and greedy have taken it away
With ads that invade your home
All the time on social media
And now on your phone
.
The latest must-haves
Up for grabs
Telling you it’s the most current desirable thing
They just don’t want to take your money
But sell your soul and even take your skin
.
I used to love to watch old movies
That I enjoyed as a kid on TV
but now they have taken them away
And now charge you a fee
.
Too much choice too much hype
The net gets darker
With so much trolling and so much vice
But serious sin comes with a price
.
Ads that bring pain and sorrow
Invest in a will or funeral plan now
Never mind tomorrow
Brainwashing by marketeers
And greedy investors
Who hound you into submission
Vultures who pick at your bones and pester
.
Endless logins and security
Take the joy
Out of everything for me
.
Bulling extortion and scamming
Viruses and jamming
The dark web
And evil sceaming and planning
.
The high cost of technology
Doesn’t just come
From the latest labeled must-have phone
But the one’s we use every day
That intrude our lives
And our home
.
G5 and too many microwaves
May take us to our early graves
Technology has gone way too far
And soon will have its day.
.
‘’We are just too reliant’’.
,
Peter Dome©2020.
Singing a song in my ear,
Tantalizing my anxiety and tears,
Your voice repeats my fears
Never letting me forget,
Why im here.
Doubts cloud my mind,
About myself this time,
All the time spent taping the shattered pieces,
In three words
You left them battered along the floor.
It was as if i was nothing,
Not even a lingering dust particle,
For all the time trying to fix myself,
In a few words,
It all fell...
The world is on fire and I'm thinking that's not such a bad thing.
Maybe it will take away the pain,
condemned to a lifetime of agony in my heart.
I doubt it'd be strong enough, but it's a start.
This pain feels indestructable.
It just keeps building brick by brick.
Soon to be a wall, not of protection,
but like a prision, it will limit me.
Unable to let anyone in at all.
I dig my own grave.
The hole is in the ground.
It's taking everything I've got
to keep my feet to the ground
and my head, to the sky.
So destroy the indestructable.
Break down the wall, brick by brick.
Fill in this grave I've dug.
Because I'm dying to be with you.
Use at your own risk!
Recommend durable tires
and a durable psychology.
I know, I know, I know
that I can't live
through it again.
That's why I'm walking,
watching my feet
in my red-rubber shoes.
Kill me now,
no one needs to know how.
They don't care anyways,
let me waste away.
I'm so alone,
I'm always on my own.
I was happy one minute,
now I want to cut.
I'm trying to stay strong,
but it's been too long.
I'm giving up,
since no one is helping me up.
I'm falling down,
and there's no one around
to keep me sane,
so all I want is pain.
Waiting here
Looking at the stars
Watching all the pretty people
Climb in all the pretty cars.
The sun's creepin up
With the numbers on the clock,
It's got me second guessin
If I'm really waiting for you
Or if it's all just a show
'Cause my car wont start
And my doors- they just wont lock.
This old four stroke engine
Never won a race;
Make a lot of noise, but it
Never took first place.
I used to hear it bangin' round my chest, now,
A friendly little growl,
I hope it only takes a rest, now, baby,
I haven't heard it in a while.
I ain't burnin' diesel, baby,
and I ain't burning coal.
I ain't burnin' much now, maybe
That's why I'm so cold.
Warlords love the crack cackling sound ...
faint vapors smelled worldwide,
when twine toking on the choking peace pipe
Lying lips huffing and puffing,
blowing smoke out the barrel rear end
Frontal sphincter holes
open and close ...
Pre-negotiated spoils fanning the wind
Rub two cancer sticks together,
to start a third global forest fire blazing
Twin Smoky Bear false witnesses,
like Pilate and Herod —
Duo hardcore sworn enemies
becoming so Maryjane best bud friends
Truth is a menthol breakdown,
a Kool summer breeze on a hot, Camel caravan night
Warning of mirage oasis whisperings
filling the Death Valley desert air with nuclear fright
Warlords love doing the iron lung Scorpion crawl,
passing the slim peace pipe inside of the toilet stall
Flushing nicotine hope down the porcelain drain;
huffing and puffing,
with covetous tar face delight
Singing with ember glee in the Inferno dire reign
Smoking jacket pleasure
fills talky polluted atmosphere
with syrupy cough pain
Paranoia beyond measure,
empties womb palpitating fear:
Tick tick puffer insane
Warlords love the milk poppy urn sound,
silent nods heard worldwide ...
when dumping vow ashes from the peace pipe
Truth is a menthol breakdown,
a Marlboro spring breeze on a cold, Salem witch night
Warning of hibernating pyre whisperings
filling the Negev autumn air with nuclear winter fright
Warlords love the crack cackling sound ...
vaporized air felt worldwide,
when chain toking on the cranium choking peace pipe
Lying lips huffing and puffing,
blowing idol smoke out the gunny shark rear end
Sphincter jaw Pinocchio nose
open and close ...
Fungi ‘shroom spittle spores make the sky darken
Warlords love the crystal meth blurb sound,
LSD plan heard dark web worldwide ...
Life-Stopping Detonations
be brimstone smoke coming from a broken peace pipe