Emo. Poems - Poems about Emo.

Committed

Potential is not a promise-
and that's all I've seen in you.

I've given every opportunity-
but you've never followed through.

(You once) treated me with kindness-
but I deserve much more.

I deserve a kind of love-
I've not experienced before.

I deserve consistency-
and I deserve the truth.

And I deserve my wishes-
(and all of) my dreams to come true.

I've come to learn

The moon's quiet sorrw

They, without a trace of shame,
painted their hearts with the crimson blood of their lovers’ lips.
And I… my only share was the cold blue of the moon,
spilled carelessly,
like a tear severed from the sky,
upon my cheeks.

Those drops sank into the ridges of my heart,
painting my eyes with a lifeless gleam,
and the moon’s quiet sorrow wound

Our Agony

I didn’t see her face.
you did!
I didn’t get to hear of sweet little girl voice.
You did!
I didn’t get to hear her say mommy and daddy!
You did!
I didn’t get to hold her tight.
You did!
I don’t get to dream about her.
You do! 
I had all the pain, and the blood, and the agony. 
But in the end

Look at the womb of my mother

From the top of my head to the bottom of my feet. I am flesh, made of bones and skin that can easily tare. That unhinged love is the most unconditional, I grow and deforme when all I do is obey. From the womb of my mother- I was born a blessing. While others see

SHE WEARS MY FACE

Why is my face split in two?

A twin I call her
Confident and beautiful 
Funny and entertaining 
Her smiles light up every room.
A life of the party 
Excellent in every word.

A frown I like to wear 
I leave the smiles to her
It suits just one of us.
I think I'm not that pretty 
The face we share

godless hymn

I wasn’t born — I was expelled,
From choking smoke and screams I yelled.
No breath of grace, no holy light,
Just claws and fire in endless night.

No lullaby, no sweet refrain,
Just rusted chains and seeping pain.
A crib of ash, a whip for love—
I crawled while angels laughed above.

They fed me rot, they bled me dry,
They laughed each

marionette of grief

They birthed me in a house of screams, Where shadows stitched my fevered dreams— No lullaby, no gentle womb, Just rusted chains and cradle's tomb.
A mother’s voice? A serpent's hiss. A father's touch? A clenched, cold fist. Each lull was laced with sharpened lies, Each smile a mask, each hug a vice.
I suckled rage from

Jealousy of My Pain

I say it this way because I'm just trying to be happy
I don't wear a sad face because my life is crappy
Haven't you heard it said to turn your pain into power
Think about every rough seed turned into a flower
When you look at me you think I have the best life 
You would never see

Ink

The ink of storms wreaks havoc on the unturned page.
Pulped filaments flop face-lessly before eyes once warm, yet frigid cold.

Daring not to expect much to read or write,
I stare blankly from the aughts of night. 

Stars are but memories from books,
Overshadowed by polluted distances, smudged by the burn of business bustling below in the barrel.

Plight of the Wight

Never again to know fresh air,
Combing worms from my matted hair.
No one remains who’d ever care —
Tied to my grave, this lonesome baire.
I must escape the sun’s harsh glare,
Tread carefully down crumbling stair,
Descend into my crypt just there,
Where I sit alone in dark despair.
Upon my ancient worm-eaten chair,
Inside my vaulted charnel house lair,
Such a sad

Pain Is Heavy

There is this weight pulling at me
It's trying it's best to hold me down
It's making me feel as though I'm alone 
Even when there are people around 

I wish that it would go away
Somehow disappear and let me be
But that seems to be a wasted wish
It refuses let loose of its grip on me

I'm having

Suicides not selfish

Maybe I'm not sorry
That I left you all behind
Maybe this is what I need
And iv made up my mind

Suicide is selfish
Thats what you all will say
But your the ones who make me
Live like this each day

Every second hurts
More painful than the last
And i will forever hate myself
As I relive my past

So I hate you all

Potential

my potential, an entity I've put on a pedestal

I spend my days climbing her ridiculously high ladder with gift-wrapped handmade blades; only leaving when her skin is ripped & her dreams for me fade, little by little 

The cruelty of my actions is but merely protection from rejection

I need her to let me go,but she

Denial

when light fractures into noise…

I embrace the outburst
with emptiness chewing up my nerves.

The void softens the impact—

can’t break what never arrived.

snail

How can you truly be happy, when you`ve never felt it before, like your whole life you`ve only felt nothing else but a heart that´s sore? 
How do you know happiness isn´t made for you? Can I even believe that it`s something that exists, that is true?

I`ve never shared a real smile before, always for

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