My foot connects
with a sickening thud.
Catching myself in the stomach.
Winding me.
I kick again, harder.
In the ribs
Crack.
Weep, fucker, weep.
Strike another blow.
This one's for that opportunity you wasted.
And another
for feeling sorry for yourself.
You self-righteous, arrogant prick
I grind my face into the dirt.
Eat it, you fat fuck.
Take some fucking responsibility for yourself
you lazy piece of shit.
I'm in another headlock
My thoughts tie my wrists
and hold my arms
while I punch myself in the gut.
Break my jaw
so I stop saying stupid things.
Shackle my wrists
so I stop penning lies.
I wince in pain, curled up in my head.
I spit on my pathetic, snivelling self.
Filth
You are NOTHING.
Plant another kick;
I curl up further.
Attack whatever's left
Because it's nothing I deserve.
Without even the strength to cry,
because I'm just that pathetic.
I won't tell anyone.
Why should they care?
What right do I have to pity myself?
I deserve no sympathy.
Because my problems are nothing
compared to theirs.
What's that? Writing a poem?
Ha. What bullshit.
See how much false sympathy that pulls in.
Weep for the world, you miserable fuck.
You don't even have a real reason to cry
Blow after blow, my mind collapses inwards.
I beat myself up in my head
because I'm too much of a coward
to hurt myself for real.
with a sickening thud.
Catching myself in the stomach.
Winding me.
I kick again, harder.
In the ribs
Crack.
Weep, fucker, weep.
Strike another blow.
This one's for that opportunity you wasted.
And another
for feeling sorry for yourself.
You self-righteous, arrogant prick
I grind my face into the dirt.
Eat it, you fat fuck.
Take some fucking responsibility for yourself
you lazy piece of shit.
I'm in another headlock
My thoughts tie my wrists
and hold my arms
while I punch myself in the gut.
Break my jaw
so I stop saying stupid things.
Shackle my wrists
so I stop penning lies.
I wince in pain, curled up in my head.
I spit on my pathetic, snivelling self.
Filth
You are NOTHING.
Plant another kick;
I curl up further.
Attack whatever's left
Because it's nothing I deserve.
Without even the strength to cry,
because I'm just that pathetic.
I won't tell anyone.
Why should they care?
What right do I have to pity myself?
I deserve no sympathy.
Because my problems are nothing
compared to theirs.
What's that? Writing a poem?
Ha. What bullshit.
See how much false sympathy that pulls in.
Weep for the world, you miserable fuck.
You don't even have a real reason to cry
Blow after blow, my mind collapses inwards.
I beat myself up in my head
because I'm too much of a coward
to hurt myself for real.
3 comments:
Give some credit to the actual author of this, eh?
http://allpoetry.com/poem/9388237-Beating-Myself-Up-by-Vex_Darkly-adult-noguest
If the street
Nnn
Of the boulevard.
.....
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