Best Self Abuse Poems
Self Abuse"Self Abuse"
Imagining how my own hand would taste
I want to punch my own face, is that such a disgrace?
I bet no one would ever know
It is I that throws the blows
Could I knock myself out?
Or should i just hit my own mouth?
Maybe Ill...
Continue reading...
Categories:
self abuse, abuse,
Form:
Sonnet
I'Ll Stand For YouI am standing for the woman that is too weak to stand,
A string of abuse she has suffered all her life long.
She believes she is on her own no one to support her
So I will be her strength and support, her verbal backbone.
Let me...
Continue reading...
Categories:
self abuse, caregiving, people, social, woman,
Form:
Free verse
Led By the KissVerse 1:
I truly want you to hear me
you're busy with cement's precast
I stay in limbo twisting in the pre
in intransit mixers turning fast
Must it all be preparation?
Coach when can I play in the game?
waiting kills dream's consecration
and Im losing interest in the aim
Chorus:
So self abuse...
Continue reading...
Categories:
self abuse, growing up, social, song-pain,
Form:
Lyric
Letting GoThere's a hole in my heart from all the pain
So much infliction, Im confused as to who to blame
All my life I've opened myself up to receive your love
Once I got it swore it was from Heaven above
Wiped our past clean and off we went
But...
Continue reading...
Categories:
self abuse, black african american, confusion,
Form:
Eating BadlyEating Badly with diabetes is a Suicide Mission.
I know, because Artur Anczarski, says so.
He is the Prophet, he is the Saint,
And nothing he says, is ever quaint
(it simply ain’t)
As for exercise and diet, ‘you don’t do either!’
(which is not – anymore – entirely true, but...
Continue reading...
Categories:
self abuse, appreciation, depression, food, introspection,
Form:
Prose Poetry
SphinxSphinx
this ugly, amorphous monster is
stalking me again
loathsome, foul blackened heart
half-eaten by vicious, resentful loathing
it feeds on me, tears me,
rips into my viscera,
fanged words perverse and savage
scalding my insides,
scouring me –
not clean, but raw and used,
the filthy residue left by its path
clinging to my insides,
making...
Continue reading...
Categories:
self abuse, depression,
Form:
Free verse