Short Self Loathing Poems
Short Self Loathing Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Self Loathing by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Self Loathing by length and keyword.
You had me briefly careening
towards that crooning
but your excessive preening
and secret self-loathing
won an abrupt ending
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.
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.
Form:
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.
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
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
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.
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
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
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.
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.
Form:
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
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
Form:
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
Form:
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.
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
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.
Form:
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
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
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
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.
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.
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.
I'm done saying I'm sorry
and seeing that look of satisfaction on your face.
So look at my back as a resignation
as I turn around and walk away.
Walk away from all your self loathing
and the way you speak towards me.
I'm sick of your self pity
and all the crap try to be.
I'm done with you
and your personality like Satan's spawn.
So get over yourself
and consider my butt gone.
Indebted to defining darkness
a fortress of pained souls crying a chorus
fearless and bonded by religious rites
reviving the dada movement fueled by absinthe
driven by inertia in absentia calling forth
dementia dripping with sorrow
and steeped in anxiety to say nothing at all
as smooth as glass pitch black as night
my self loathing pity is as to death
as porcelain is to midnight