Inner Conflict Poems - Poems about Inner Conflict

I didn’t ask you to come. You came anyway-- like sympathy could scrub the blood off my breath. Don’t you see? My grief is mine. You’re holding tissues like they matter. You’re speaking like you understand. You don’t. Not the burn. Not the echo. Let me fall. Let me break and crawl through it-- I need the splinters to feel like proof that I was touched at all. And yet, if you leave now I...

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Words rest on my tongue, sharp and heavy, like shattered glass, aching to spill. But as they press against my lips, ready to slice their way out, a voice pulls me back: They are not worthy of your fire. And I pause. I ask myself— what’s stronger? The urge to make them bleed, or the strength to walk away and let their silence swallow them whole?...

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Living in the sunless cold hutch of till death do us apart, sits a chipping soul. Never had he thought she did be a blotch of many shades. Spitting and pouring scorn on his dreams of a happy home. “What? Are you even a man? Your mates are out there...”...

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You hold a story of me that is not mine, the version that smiles, makes polite conversation, tells just enough truth to keep you satisfied. But you’ve never witnessed the war. How I fight against the silence, how it curls into my lungs until breathing is tantamount to failure. I wake some mornings to the sound of me thinking my own thoughts, too loud, too sharp, examining...

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The battle in your chest Would make a strong heart tremble; But I braced against the test: Survival’s not so simple. We marched until the boots Split seams from heavy wear; My mother’s troubled roots Turned gray with every scare. The hand that gripped my arm Was scarred from every fray; At every step that harmed, My heart would start to sway. You beat time...

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Balancing midst them both, two lives at once. Split down the middle and torn at the seams. Tiptoe the balance beam, pleasing the ones who know only one side of things. Confliction, a way of life down to the core. From every angle, two people ‘twould seem. Not yet discovered a way to be more, so both lives are...

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You tell me to stop How can I When the porcelain play never stops It has to keep going For the crowd Yet, the cracks... They are slowly taking over Slowly breaking my so carefully built play my life my happiness The cracks get bigger, can they see? no amount of joy can seal them now. The crowd, it laughs. I'm glad. They don't...

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life tests by fire finds soul tiring rewire head-heart...

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In mental stasis, I remain, Moving restlessly, never inane. Nomadic actions, thoughts immobile, A dichotomy within, deeply hostile. Self-pity offers a deceptive release, A dopamine hit, a false sense of peace, Clawing at myself, seeking the thrill, Lacerating tendons, a need to fulfil. Red-handed, pale-hearted, I stand, Distanced, departed, to the unknown land. Uncharted, unguarded, my soul's domain, Discarded, disregarded, from my own disdain. That started from...

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I operate in abundance of extremes, Flirtish to skittish; kind-hearted to mean I am a tolerant bigot or a emotional stoic Yet everyone around me don’t even know it The tug-o-war of conflicting interests Both teams in an endless contest To control my fast twitch reflex Of my best defence; verbal offence. Shutting people down from entering my mind When I see...

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We heavily consider the value of existence, For a quest of bias, a path of prole resistance, Assess our inner selves clearly and briefly, Our goals have gotten us afar deeply. Skepticism conveys the root of all hatred, If there is vital strife, tempers are shattered, Reason and fact provide the basis of love, They've ne'er started, and ne'er seen above. When deep...

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As the sunsets And the moon rises The birds set to go home A heart wanders and wonders Seeing the deep waters The secrets that lies beneath Of fairies and demons Ruled by an owl creek Stories that are multi-fold And dark shadows to behold....

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For Unseeker Seeker Inner Conflict Poetry Contest 13 / August / 2022 I instantaneously after reading this thought this one has got my name all over it and is just for mr The best and only possible way I could try to explain how my inner conflict manifests itself to me is this Imagine if you will my life as a out...

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How often do these tiny blooms Of sorrow fill my soul? In songs of fire lit long ago Left burning by the snow. How often do these solemn dreams Speak of my troubled soul? And sink my heart ten depths apart From blackened tainted ores. How often does my ship set sail To silent, placid shores? But sing to me of sirens' song To pull...

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You wield a sword of words that come to no conclusion Born not from reason rather pain within that leads you to false perceptions and intrusions so anger can free itself once again You hide in darker realms of needs and stab with the sword of your emotions inflicting pain to satisfy in hopes, all are blind to what they see your soul will...

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