Short Self Loathing Poems

theft of innocence
             mislabeled ~

        gift of self loathing




MagiCicada13...

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I am your defication
I am farted galvanism
To be wiser than one's creator
Is no great source of pride....

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You had me briefly careening
towards that crooning
but your excessive preening
and secret self-loathing
won an abrupt ending...

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Losing it,
All,
Unknowingly stepping into,
Her box,
Enveloped by fear and self-loathing,
I ride onward,
My stallion screams in the night,
Stabbing at the flesh of the stars,
With anguish....

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To wish for pain to take away pain is ironic. Rim filled to the brim with self loathing and 
unsertity. I wish to speak of my pain instead of inflicting it upon myself. Oh so tempting to 
give in....

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I don’t like much poetry,
as I dislike most modern art,
there is too much fakery, even here,
in these paltry words, the effort
not living up to standards
I set for myself and others, unfairly,
but still bothersome....

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slammed shut 
closed off from
the bonds 
that once 
bound the 
two hearts 
together
forever trapped 
in a state of 
emotional limbo 
never able to 
break the chains 
that tie up the 
soul within a persion
of self-loathing...

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Wrathful tears ripen shame
and sows conscience-stricken seeds of self-loathing.
Scourged by the storm’s desolate dirge
this flimsy canopy offers no protection
as the wind-driven rain rides roughshod over me.


Susan Ashley 
April 9, 2019...

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Muffled cry of inconsequence
My heart feels alone again
Cuff off, neglected
Why are you so far from caring?
Sucked into my soul of despair
So full of the slime of self loathing
Always incredulous of love
It’s so much easier to believe it was never there....

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Shame,
a shroud,
has fabric
woven from the
dark, anguished threads of
self-recriminations
and of inadequacies.
Caught in its twist, the frail weave on,
constraining themselves in self-loathing.
Unravel fibers of despair. . . Unveil!


For Skat's Any Old Poem #7 Poetry Contest...

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What is life?
is it love or is it 
pain all I know is 
both go hand and hand
maybe life is
just misery with a couple 
happy short lived times 
in between times of
self loathing and hatred
as the years have past
i've come to figure one 
thing and that thing is
life keeps going on 
whatever it is...

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I've turned into a self-loathing,
promiscuous attention-seeker,
and you've turned into a drunk,
arrogant, emotionless misogynist. 

Look how far we've come,
thriving without the love of one another.
Look at how we flourish
like the decaying flora of a prize-winning garden.

We were better together....

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From the climate of fear, courage is born.
The night of loneliness passes at the dawn of solitary acceptance.
The season of self- loathing dismisses at the arrival is Spring filled with a hint of self-forgiveness.
New era of peace beckons you, embrace it, radiate your heart at this holy instance....

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I feel her touch 
in the paradox of passion
her love my completeness
yet still I am broken
desire and fear combine 
and I close my mind
to drown in the molten silver
of fantasy and illusion
in the wild wilderness
where I am free to be
escaping the hate
the self-loathing
that is my reality...

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I hate

I cry

I live

I die

You run

You hide

You lie

You deny

These statements swirl in my head like a whirl pool

Sucking me into an abyss of self-loathing

Only to drown me into nothing

You sleep

You survive

You continue

You try

I sink

I scream

I drown

I sigh...

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winding roads of hate and self loathing
side trails of light deceiving to my eye
for i know nothing of it. im scared.
what is this light? is it hope?
is it peace of mind? i cant help but
think of it as a trap consumed by
hatred of these lights i cant trust
myself enough to follow a path
that is unknown...

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Overwhelming thoughts pour into my head with every breath that I take. 
Maybe if it was a bit more quiet I wouldn’t shut down from every little mess I make. 
In time this empty shell gets filled with pity and loathing, for the person that I’ve made. 
I know I will lose control one day, and the tears will flow as I finally break....

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Shame
remains
with me still.
Even after
forgiveness given.
My eyes still see the truth
written on my reflection.
If I could get past self loathing,
to accept that I can not change this,
then perhaps, I could, once again love life.



entry into Andrea Dietrich's contest:  Etheree Me
Placement: 6th place...

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stop telling me its going to
be alright, the monster is there
in my mind. I rock back and
forth in a lazy boy wishing
it could end me. im broken,
no good, hollowed out, i
split my skin just to see
could i really be me?
Am I hot puss filled to the brim
of self loathing? time to end it
my battered body holds no 
more heart and soul....

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He stands at her window,
eager to look in, though
he feels like a creep.

He felt this self loathing
pawing through her clothing.
Still, he wants to peep.

Squinting through the shutters,
heatedly, he mutters
to her in her sleep.

Frenzied in his rant he's
nuzzling the panties
he made sure to keep.


================
07/29/2015...

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Lost unto a Gin spin
The blood grows thin
To the beckoning 
Of a morning hangover of regret
And reading the tet a tet
Of slurring rambling 
The pre-amble 
Shall read
Here lies the afterbirth 
Of the Man Child Boy
Who writes until the morning 
Comes to fetch what is left
Of the night before 
Bore the brunt of self loathing 
In Emperor's cloaking...

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The floor scrubbed raw but still they reflect
Stains from my own mess of stupidity and regret

A contaminant leper for all to see
This holy place I should be forsaken to be

My tainted soul shown through the cracking mirrors
I do not deserve even one of your tears

This corpse is rotting from the inside out
Cries of forgiveness from my mouth so desperately shout...

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Grey ashen permeates
Your solitary existence.
Locked and shackled
At your minds insistence.
Presented my lively colors
Of sacrifice.
Happy hues rejected,
Not once, but thrice.
Some comprehend not,
What others endure,
To give endless color,
For another's dim world.
They seep in pity,
Harbor anger, complain.
Their self loathing black,
Sets fire to rain....

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Nooses hang upon the trees,

swaying gently in the breeze.

Self loathing rips through his chest,

a raging beast which never rests.

Unseeing eyes stare through the mist,

wondering if he'll be forgotten, or missed.

His wrists are slashed, his leaves stained red,

His heart is heavy like carrying lead.

As tears come to his eyes,

his final words,

a whispered, Goodbye....

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This cold world, with cold games
a lot they stole, people have lost their control
More then self
killing children’s mental health

Media, the "in and now"
we rely to teach our children how
never leading by example; with self-appraisal
rather filling the next shot double

Will these children of the meek ever be free? 
From this, self-loathing transmittal societal disease....

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