Long Overthinking Poems
Long Overthinking Poems. Below are the most popular long Overthinking by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Overthinking poems by poem length and keyword.
Why does pain hurt,
Why does being restless evoke the mind to undergo seizures of human revoke,
Why is the smile on my face plastic, I can feel it melt to the floor like drip drop,
Why is believing you want me so hard to believe,
And why do I feed myself selfish lies to calm my nerves,
My eyes are open but clearly not wide enough to have my brain pick out my flared sockets,
Why is a question with unanswered answers,
Why is a question that leaves me bothered and I still wonder why!
My ears hear squeaking noise, not very sure if it’s a rat or a man or a woman,
Speech released from your rolled tongue into a thousand forms,
Your actions speaking plain and confusing,
See understanding is easy but overthinking is an art that leaves me paralyzed,
You paralyze me from the waists down, I would probably beg you to hold me before my fall,
But I would probably realize that you were never here at all,
Silly girl, you are not heartbroken, you just read the situation harder than e-wall would hit that wall,
Silly girl you do not understand issues of the heart, chemistry broken down in meth, alcohol is not the solution they say but that’s my chemistry!
Our chemistry!
Silly boy, you made her fall hard, and left her without a lie, and expecting her to smile and say goodbye,
You made her want to leave you, you say you did her a favor, a favor of zero flavor her taste buds were inflamed by the time she left you,
Silly boy now you miss her and can’t come round to convince your mind to carry out the actions of your heart to win her back,
Why you forced her to leave you is a mistery not yet unraveled by your own nonsensical brain cells,
Why is a question with no broken mirror, two sided maybe but it’s an unending question with a fairly non quizzical answer that alsways turns out to be questionable,
Why,That’s a question that will leave me bothered,
So many versions that will probably leave a broken girl scared,
And a sad boy in the sad dark,
And all we can ask is why.
hear me out on this
I invented the "just understand"
when the feeling of sadness
gets way out of hand
a way to unravel
truth at its core
not focus on an event
or excavate more
for sometimes I was hurt
didn't know how to respond
the 'why' is quite complex
something that went way beyond
not a heartache
or frustration
but deeply felt pain
extrapolated past this
and to that again
a deep well of fear
and self-contained hate
that I didn't want to explain
define or dictate
so here is the answer
the "just understand"
as simple as quietness
and a gently held hand
reassurance I'm known
and can rest easy now
no duty required
I can unfurrow my brow
no overthinking
or exhausting explanation
simply cradled with care on titration
I won't explain more
as it defeats my invention
but rest by me
and you'll feel the removal of tension
calming of nerves
as we exist side by side
no unnecessary words
just allowing energies to collide
it's not on prescription
unfortunately still rare
most of the ingredients elusive
but now I know they are there
I know emotional pain
isn't an eternal state
that being "just understood"
is something we can co-create
If a moment passed
Where I didn’t feel
Do, or see anything
In which I didn’t
Have to be anyone
Hear anyone
See anyone
Speak to anyone
A moment where
I could cease to be
Human
In which meaning and time
Would coincide
Instead of always collide
And where the measure
Of a man
Was not established
By what he did
Or did not do
With his words
Or his hands
A moment of pause
To reflect, collect,
And refocus my thoughts
So the fog
That clouds my eyes
Would dissipate
Knowing they are not
It’s destined place
A moment of pleasure
A breath of peace, joy,
Relief, and laughter
I’ve forgotten what it is
To not care
About anything
In particular
At all
To relinquish
Myself to the present
A moment of closure
Where I am alone
But I am not
Alone
A security blanket
That feels warm
Instead of
That itchy, uncomfortable thing
Aunt Carol used to
Wrap around you
And after which
You never mentioned
You’re cold around her again
But you still
Accept invitations to her home
Every time she asks
A moment of reprieve
From the chaos
The overanalyzing,
Overthinking, overcompensating
Out of the extenuating circumstances
Your life uses
To call unwanted attention
To itself
An intermission from
The emotional abuse
Inflicted by you
on yourself
The loathing, the hatred
The outpouring of negative
Processes on repeat
In your head
A respite from all
Of its nonsense
If I could have a moment
Where all of it
Would stop
For just a minute
I’m fairly certain
I’d find a way
To be okay
Again.
His voice soft and cracking,
Wanting desperately to start conversation. . .
Discomfort only letting out a few words from my trembling mouth. . .
The center of the audience,
Still alone in the embarrassment of my own silent, screaming ponders. . .
His laughing. . .
Laughing again to help me notice that he’s laughing for me—
That he wants me to join in too. . .
He reminds me I am overthinking again. . .
Sadly, in this sickened mind,
I oblige . . . a curl of a smile from my lips…
Noise coming out. . . JUST NOISE. . .
My mind elsewhere,
Not even laughing at the film in front of us,
Feeling pleasure in the superior feeling that he cannot hear me screaming something else,
Laughing at his evident confidence,
While others beside,
Are in other worlds. . .
All around,
Feeling the superiority of their own thoughts, no doubt. . .
Curiosity like a cheap flashlight,
Flickering on and off,
And then losing battery…
GET A GRIP YOU FOOL!
They are just enjoying a goddamn movie. . .
But we don’t care for a moment. . .
They want us to know that the fiction is far more exciting than our insignificant reality,
Temporary partnership. . .
And I want to give him attention,
Because I want him not to feel what I feel every sad day of my life. . .
I want him because people unwant him. . .
And he knows that they are not looking. . .
But I am. . .
And I always have been looking,
Targeting you from the crowd since day one,
Steering my attention away from the braced teeth,
The doubled chins,
The collateral cussing,
That guy's flexing ass,
The buttered crab in false paradise…
His elbow stabbing into my world.....
And I feel awful knowing the thoughts will never reach his own,
Just for a second. . .
And then I thank God that he is not a mind reader,
Otherwise he’d be reading his life away,
In the sticky pages of my thoughtless, void existence. . .
I realize it is just him and me in the room now. . .
As you pour your glass of rum,
We ignore your existence,
Looking in each other’s eyes in that fraction of a millisecond. . .
Nobody knows us.
Our minds are bedridden in disease and frictional bewilderment. . .
No one can ever truly see it. . .
No one, not even I,
Understands these thoughts. . .
And it is sickening to realize . .
But. . .
That is the perfection I have come to know.
I Exist.
What if one day you woke up only to discover your whole life was a dream?,
You were never really here.
Is it the feeling of being ignored?
The feeling that my self esteem might have been punctured?
The feeling that I might not have not turned out the way I was contoured?
If it's really a dream that I'm living,
I hope to wake up.
Maybe when I do, this false misconception and nightmare will stop.
Life was created for a purpose,
We have life for a reason,
I treat my mind like a prison,
Constantly overcalculating and overthinking everything,
Because we live in a world where everything is contending,
So am I just living without actually living? without knowing my life's mission?
Everyone says their mission is to succeed and find happiness, but what if there's more?
More I don't know about?, I guess all I can do is trust my intuition.
The truth is, I can spend eternity debating about these questions,
I can spend forever looking for claims to support my objections,
I exist simply because I exist.
A great philosopher once quoted "I think, therefore I am"
I exist because I experience the world around me,
I exist because I'm conscious to the fact that I have the ability to think and question my existence.
I exist because I feel and choose not to live a life of pretense,
I exist simply because I exist.
-"It's okay not to have the answers right now, you are alive, you have life and you still have so much left to experience. One day, things will fall in place, and you will live to tell a story like no other."
I’ve grown accustomed to dwelling on the bad
Thriving from the macabre and the sad
But lately I’ve felt this sense of lightness
I feel so free, void of the toxicity, brimming with brightness
I find it hard to understand what I’m undergoing
I don’t know what’s real or what’s true but, this future is glowing
All I know is that I don’t feel like I’m sinking
The good moments are no longer shadowed by overthinking
Because my life is worth something and I know that I count
I know that all my value and worth have an infinite amount
I may not always have much faith in myself and I question too much
But I see myself in other’s so I know there are lives I can touch
And as long I can help at least one soul
I promise I can piece myself together and I too can become whole
Line of enquiry:
Instrumentalising mind, I rested thought
employing it only when needed
shifting to heart, I became self-taught
gentling touch, voice of conscience heeded.
Intellect and intuition are like a sword and shield.
One cuts through darkness to bring clarity,
the other is an internal compass protecting the lost.
Both are formed polished, vigorous and gallant,
but through the struggles of each battle,
become ineffective when not revived.
My mind plays like a piano
and I am its pianist.
When I sit upon the cliffs of doubt,
it seems to be sleepwalking into a
chaotic jungle of consciousness,
where the symphony ignores the song sheet.
I don't want my words to be forgotten.
There is no reality in this reverie,
so the soul yearns to be free,
like a seagull soaring above stormy seas,
towards a sapphire and ivory skyline.
Sometimes skies can resemble fire,
where flames appear too strong,
so my internal wings seek refuge.
To heal from the noise, I lose myself
in the stillness of solitude.
In my loneliness, ego screams,
so I escape from this echo chamber,
by starving it from unworthy self praise
but if I do not love myself,
who will love me?
When dwelling upon the mountain of overthinking,
my spirit is unable to adapt to the flutes of fate,
but I ignore the provocation of poison.
I listen to the musicality of my heart,
releasing the strings of attachment.
I burn myself to light up the blackness,
composing lyrics from adversity's lessons.
I am a metaphor for a star,
touching the divine horizons,
sparkling, but still learning from the
'see saw' emotions of my heart and mind.
We are all carpenters in life,
with different tools to master our minds,
trying to control the outlook of our emotions.
As rivers of wisdom integrate smoother,
when we build bridges of compassion over them.
I am a free bird
I wanna travel the world
Yet I am scared of having to give up on things
I am scared of never fitting in
Of knowing too many people
And never having a friend
I cry a lot
I don’t really know why
I miss my dogs
And my cat
I wanna hold onto people
Knowing I cannot
I struggle to understand this
Sometimes
The concept of being an azaad parinda
Interfering with the very idea of having connections in this earthly life
I kinda like singing, I guess
I spent eight years training in dance though
Never could breathe freely
Was too scared yet good
Not knowing what I was doing
Kinda freeing kinda stuck
Like your legs in a bog
In a long lost forest
With no one to hear you screaming
Except for the early critters
Not the very best word
But overthinking means losing the flow
And I am feeling this way
After a really long time and
I’m not really ready to give up on this once again
Fight the algorithms
that tell us what to do,
to make us predictable,
unoriginal and bankable.
Have you witnessed how
increasingly bland and homogenous
our lives are becoming?
Choose freedom
avoid the diaries of commerce
that riff on the ubiquity of apps
resist the reductive tropes
of our published and circulated,
perspective customer identities.
Fight the algorithms
with their embedded back-lot
familiarity, built around class
and consumerism.
Try to understand the
vague, inscrutable and
purposefully circuitous.
Or stop overthinking
and embrace liberating surrender.
That’s the path I’ve chosen.
.
.
The Gates by Da Vinci's Notebook
Talk Down Dijon
I tried to smoke away the pain,
Rolled it into a blunt and lit it.
I breathe it all in to feel something,
I blow out to release the suffering.
Too anxious for my own good,
I pop a pill every now and then.
The pills stop me from overthinking,
They give me a moment of peace.
I wish I could turn my thoughts
Into alcoholic shots.
I wanna black out from my thoughts,
Forget them and wake up hungover.
Let me crush up my bad memories,
And snort them with my diary pages.
Replace those bad moments with
The good ones I recreated with drugs.
These night terrors don’t stop at sunset,
?And the clock hasn’t even struck 12 yet.
I’ll take my dose of Vivarin,
And fight the demon that’s appearing.
My body can’t hold up the abuse,
Each time I’m down in the blues.
I’ll try to get high off my own pain,
I’ll use anything to stimulate my brain.
I promise next time I won’t overdose,
Even if that’s what I feel like doing the most.