Long Self hate Poems
Long Self hate Poems. Below are the most popular long Self hate by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Self hate poems by poem length and keyword.
I chase my pains; they fail to move,
Their strength, indeed, they wished to prove;
Midst joys, like thistles, they appear,
Like cobras, they, within, fright gear;
Grieves caused by dear and near ones dead,
Fear that stops legs to step ahead;
Distress, that like scorpion, stings,
Or like Vampire bats spreads dark wings;
Darkness of loneliness seeps in,
What way could I in my life win?
Isolation caused by self-hate,
Becomes, often, fair bait of fate;
Anger fills my psychic pitcher,
Emptiness within grows richer;
Eagles of vengeance fly about,
Helplessness causes, in doubt, shout;
Green snakes hide within my home lawns,
Each day, thus, like gloomy death, dawns;
Midst good and bad there's no distance,
What use is such an existence?
18 October 2022
As depression dominates your thoughts,
the weight of love's absence grows acute.
And while your stomach twists into knots:
love, morphs into the forbidden fruit.
Cringing inside, your life feels unfair,
drowning in your tears, you struggle to cope.
For suckling on the breasts of despair,
Reality has drained you of Hope.
When childhood memories include rape:
trust dissipates into nothingness.
And you find that you cannot escape
that feeling of utter emptiness.
Admonishing life, you curse your fate,
as the blade's keen edge scratches a path.
And self-abuse morphs into self-hate,
as cutting begins to calm your wrath.
Purging the hurt from your tortured soul,
starts with a tiny trickle of blood.
And then, as each cut exacts a toll,
crimson drops fuel a scarlet flood.
Purging the hurt from your tortured soul,
starts with a tiny trickle of blood.
And then, as these cuts exact their toll,
crimson drops fuel a scarlet flood.
Remembering what she used to be.
How she could light the world ablaze without a second thought.
Her words like daggers, always ready for a fight.
Always wanting and waiting for the thrill of the adrenaline.
Her feels numb, not even feeling the hurt of being used anymore.
Was it the constant state of depression, anxiety, or self-hate?
She never stopped, always full speed, like a wildfire burning, until she couldn’t burn anymore.
Crashing down to rock bottom was the only way to find healing.
Healing was the only way to find the hidden path to the life she was destined to live.
Who knew a setup would turn into that long-awaited feeling after one meeting.
Knowing from the first date this was her yin to her yang, when her life changed.
Loving all of him, even the pieces in the dark corners with cobwebs.
They have fought each other’s battles and loved each other at their lowest.
Their love still ablaze to this day.
She didn’t think she would have this kind of love, her past self would never have let her have it or think she deserved it.
She’s living a life she only dreamed of.
The Lost Tribe
Holocaust, this tragic word, millions of lives lost in its
name, and it has not ended. This time,
it is the
Palestinians who are victims of a people
who have learned only one lesson to survive
one has to be
and able to tell lies and
cynically play on Europe’s common guilt.
Hitler wasn’t able to remove the Jews; we Christians
wouldn’t let him.
The people of Israel have taken it upon themselves to
emulate their former tormentors,
will not be able to eradicate the Palestinians
we, the despised and cowardly Christians,
will not let them.
The raw disregard the Israelites show against their Semitic Brothers borders to self-hate; it will corrupt them, and they will sink into nihilism.
Dust upon dust, the story could have been so different hadn’t
they decided that kindness
was a hindrance when creating their tribal paradise.
A young man stabbed, runs for police,
but his attacker was a Sikh,
who claimed ‘racism,’ and these cops
cuffed the poor victim as he dropped,
much more concerned with brownish skin
than murder, the quite worst of sins,
more fearful of the word ‘racist’
than life which no longer exists,
and then try to hide their disgrace,
let killers walk just to save face,
stopped only by a loud outcry,
not the fact they let a man die,
as leftist filth fear ‘the backlash,’
when the die is already cast.
The same scum who excused rape gangs,
their own daughters in vile hands,
ravaged by cruel Mohammedans…
rapists should swing from the tree limbs.
Another attack in Belfast,
we all know it won’t be the last,
the leftists despise their own kind,
think foreigners can’t be malign,
think they can bring in failed cultures,
and from them somehow be inured,
wrapped in their lazy, Marxist faith,
that only teaches to self-hate,
arrest folks for having wrong thoughts,
a tyranny wrapped up in rot,
all loyalty to you they spurned…
perhaps it’s right to make it burn.
If you look in my eyes and see a man without self confidence
Know that I have lived a lifetime without common sense
Because every time I have fallen I have gotten back to my feet
Refusing to give in and refusing to accept defeat
I told myself it was not my fate to live with the burden of body weight
And that I could no longer live day to day shackled to self hate
And though each day was so very hard I overcame what left me scarred
Once again building strength that has given me something to guard
For every mistake I made there may be a lesson to be learned
And if made only once then perhaps there's faith to be earned
When from a stumbling rookie was born a competent teacher
Who grabbed the brass ring with skill and became a feature
If you look in my eyes you will see a man who has learned a lot in life
And every adversity no matter how big or small contributed to strife
That has molded me into a better man than I was when I got back to my feet
Just so I can proudly say, "ad astra per aspera. And I do not accept defeat."
The bricks used to build a wall were generational vices
intentionally or unintentionally you're here to destroy it
bricks of shame, guilt, humiliation, addiction, fear,
doubt, self-hate, abandonment, and outcast are due
to repetitive cycles called generational curses
healing and forgiving self for a lot of ignorance inherited
let every painful circumstance give you strength to pulverize
the wall built to keep you mentally, emotionally and spiritually
oppressed from yourself to create what you deserve and desire
believe it or not, you are not A or THE sacrificial lamb
you are the leader, curse breaker that leads by example
clearing away the wall of self deception and illusions
no hopping, climbing, or going around the wall allowed
blasting the wall into dust inspire the future generations
clear paths for creating their own legacy without self sacrifice
understanding fighting without violence, never give up,
self acceptance, trust ones' own intuition, and speak up
your courage, dignity, integrity, strength, bravery, peace,
self-love, and compassion are all in one tools; resilience
you can imagine, create, build and lead unapologetically.
I know why people bleach their skin, acceptance
Can you imagine looking in a mirror and hating your own reflection
All you see is an ugly man
You wake up every day and nothing ever changes, self-hate is a cruel thing.
Society gives you a description of beauty and you don't see that in your mirror...your black skin and the body you're in becomes your silent grave because self-hate destroys the inner man
Bleaching your skin fade away your identity of ugly ...the lighter you are the better you look to humanity. The truth is we all want to be a size 6 and look like Beyoncé...isn't that what civilization say is perfect beauty. We are our own enemies.
We all need to value who we are, don’t change how we look to measure up to anyone...Your skin or body size should never be a definition of self-value, celebrate how you were made.
Her hormones fled the coop on scalding tires.
Motel maids were her sisters, bars her occupation,
a place to work on the aerobics of hope.
He was a hazard in her side-view mirror,
a pileup that followed her home.
Hitched to a double-wide,
they took the long slide in a downhill race.
Both rode their desires in a raw rodeo.
He anointing her with his pity-me seed,
she dispensing self-hate in Dixie cups.
The litter of their love
was dumped on friends and cops.
A shared habit for synthetic stimulants
ensured court dates and warrants.
Naturally, they pointed fingers,
gambled on a better hand tomorrow.
Authentic feelings waned,
emotions were stored in freezer bags,
kept on ice. They were no longer nice
to each other, nor did they try,
love blinked out in dulling eyes.
They still made house together,
but the magic had left for the circus,
for months they clawed their way out
of a bad country song,
until the band broke up.
Put a finger down drug addict edition.
Put a finger down, if you are to scared to look in the mirror, afraid your reflection will end your delusions, mirrors show only what they see, if e sure for look, may you know if how you look and how you feel na the same thing.
Put a finger down, if you feel empty inside, like your mind is stuck in limbo, you cannot decide death or life, and all you can hear is your demon's cry, its hell inside and heaven outside, your euphoria, rue and Justin combined.
Put a finger down, if you have pushed everyone away because they begged you to stop, you didn't, now they've stopped, and you cant stop, so please stop and think of what you've lost.
Put a finger down, if you never thought you would live like this as a kid, if ten year old you wished for something different, made a time capsule, for you to read, but here you are swallowing every capsule you see.
Put a finger down, if you've lost everything, your family, your mind, your life, your high, you don't fly like you used to anymore, and that's fine, its doesn't mean you need more, the happy pills don't work anymore so you switch to heroine, but the only hero is the one who saves you from an OD .
Put a finger down if you're tired of everything, there not much to say about that you know how you feel.
Put a finger down if you feel dependent, like your life depends on it and if you stop your heart will stop to beat, recovery ain't but it is what it is.
Put a finger down if you feel alone, no one to hold your hand as you take your first steps and your first jump, when you kicked yourself out of tat hole, we heard you cry and we held you tight and we will guide you still you are ready to face life.
Put a finger down if you now feel safe, saved from a life filled with self hate, and pass this to your former cellmates, so they can be free.