#shitty poem

[jellysshitpoems]

No title - Poem by me (jellysshitpoems)

[inkbloodpages]

Mother tells me I’m a woman, but she raised me like a man.

I’m my father’s oldest son, and his only daughter.

I’m my sister’s older brother, and my brother's older sister.

I wish I could tell you that I know who I am.

All I know is I’m not a woman or a man, but a secret third thing.

A people pleaser.

[bunniesandsilk]

shitty poetry dump 🫶

i want to be loved.

held, my hair played with, longing for the touch of another.

to be somebody's muse

yet as much as i crave this

i have nothing to give back.

but i still crave this

is that selfish?

to long for the touch of another? knowing i cant return that love

but i wish i could

i wish i could adore the ground you walk on

----

words spill from your lips

sticking to me like honey youll never truely scrub off

but i can live with that.

being an amalgamation of things thrown at me,

a collage of experiences.

an empty canvas filling up as i allow time to pass through me.

letting it leave its marks.

[shittyartestries]

i talk to you in my head all the time

i still see you in everything

[cozygoblin]

Summer sunshine out

And inside

My heart is singing along

Just floating in the waves

While waiting and tasting those sweet feelings

Never enough of it

But hoping to share them

With you

[chubsbuns]

How Much More

- CM 2024

I wrote a shitty poem about the shitty state the UK is in

(Sorry about my weird handwriting and poor spacing)

[bookmothic-dyke]

I don’t hate being trans,

I work hard not to.

I work to.

To find the beauty in the body horror, of my flesh, and of my changes.

Below the skin, a truth rearranges.

To find the melody in the madness, of reknitting my form, in my own image.

I find who is me, a chittering wild visage.

To weave the tethers, a web of knowing, leaving none of our own.

Becoming more, than we were.

I work hard not to,

hate being trans.

So instead,

I love,

Me.

[strictlymyaesthetic]

[touch-starved-poetry]

Hunger

My skin itches

It longs for touch

The gentleness of another

It craves so much

I make up for it with showers

That turn my skin red

And blankets too heavy

For anywhere but bed

Alas it is summer

And the blankets too hot

And the water heater broken

So any shower is shot

At present I lay

I am silent, alone

In my quiet room

In my silent home

Is it too much to ask

To have someone here

To hold someone close

To keep someone near

My skin craves contact

The innocent kind

Pressed together

Unmoving, intertwined

Yet it remains starved,

My shower still cold

Longing from my bed

For someone to hold

[dollhouse-of-decay]

Waste of time (poem?)

Ill drive myself mad and Ill put a toaster in my bubble bath

I think to much

I don't talk enough

I'm not enough for this disaster of a world

I'd rather live on Mars, or saturn, or maybe neptune

There's no humans in space

I might go there soon

I can't write poetry

I keep changing the subject

Everything I write I reject, reject

The words don't flow right

They come out in ugly little clusters of non existent potential

I wish I could write

A poem, a story, a song?

I have nothing

Nothing at all

I have so many thoughts that not one of them is coherent enough to write down

None of my ideas turn into anything

I don't know how to end this

I should have stopped at the beginning

By B.M (dollhouse-of-decay)

[l1ttlef0x]

I hear her voice, and it's like I'm 13 again. Begging for love.

[jellysshitpoems]

Lover, my Love. - Poem by me (jellysshitpoems)

[an-atlas-or-other]

Physical therapy we couldn’t afford,

new seats in the car and

a lost again war

This body is trying to destroy its own world

Soon comes the last step I take out of my door

‘Nothing to fear,’

but I’m fucking afraid

Abandonment debts to be paid

I can’t live on my own, not with the way I was made

I wasn’t put here, I hope, just so I could complain

I’m withering away and I

won’t get much farther

They said I wouldn’t pay for

the sins of my father

A walker, a wheelchair, a future in my name

I should be grateful it’s only a cane

It’s terminal and I won’t be catching the next plane

I love my family but they’re all in a different place

It’s painful in body, in mind and in soul

Not even God will throw me a bone

You think it’s a necessity but I don’t need to be avenged

I’m just waiting for this all to end

My twentieth is wishful thinking when everything’s against

the very idea of my surviving until then

A relapse, my synapses

wither away in my head

Oh god, I’m better off dead

[my-artistic-blog]

Playing the waiting game

When I first met you

I was struggling to get through

But you’ve always been so kind

I Think you changed my mind

Now you’re the vision in my minds eye

But I can’t help but wonder if all we’re doing is killing time

When I look at you I want to be… better, to be… different… to be…enough.

But it’s starting to feel like life’s just too damn tough

Like everything and everyone I touch

Just slips away into the dust.

When I think of you

Sometimes I can’t help it too

I think I see glimpses of something great

But then if I look too long you fall away

I wish I didn’t want to wait

But the fucked thing is I do

I want to fucking wait for you!

But I can’t wait forever

I’ve done it before

Taking glimpses and breadcrumbs and trying to make something more

So I’ll give you your space and try to stick to mine

Just know that lately you’ve been the only one on my damn mind

[astrosnort]

what if i died as was designed

and lived the life that was prescribed

what if i got a second birth

and then that life, it changed my worth

do i die to live another day

to live my life another’s way

do i grovel, beg on my knees

for you to love me once again, please,

like you were a god, above the sword

and i an ant you could ignore.

[kaymondrazik]

miws

Ancient and tragic obsession

No, a friend and another question

Who truly cut themselves?

Out of fear, fear of failure

What I did before and after finding you

In this immense ocean

Once a clear blue, now the darkest shade

I learn to swim, to be more coherent

While your artificial time overtakes you

Lies, disguised hope calls me

Relentlessly, my soul reminds me

Control your minutes before you can cherish them

My love, disguised like him

You are so fictional

That I struggle to believe your heart could be real.