They call it strange—this habit of speaking aloud, to oneself, thinking alone, and questioning everything. But science has spoken: those who talk to themselves sharpen their minds, embrace chaos, and thrive on challenge. This poem is a tribute to the self-speakers, the deep thinkers, the quiet geniuses who refuse to silence their brilliance.
 

They point, they whisper, they call it absurd—
Ye...

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The Weight of Negativity unveils the profound psychological truths behind humanity's bias towards negative experiences, thoughts, and impressions. Rooted in evolutionary survival mechanisms, this piece hopefully explores how our minds magnify fears, criticism, and catastrophes while overshadowing acts of kindness, peace, and progress. By dissecting the "negativity effect," the work tries to offer ...

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(For the girl who haunts my dreams still)

Dear Daddy,

Not that you'd care, but

All that I wanted 

was to make you proud

But, I was too stupid

Too fat

Too loud

All you ever did 

was bring me down

I was your scar

Your permanent frown

I was your verbal punchbag

In your whiskey fuelled state

Never felt like your child 

Just a vess...

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This poem is deeply personal to me and is about my time I spent as a crisis worker helping people who were experiencing mental health emergencies or attempts of suicide. The subject of this poem is suicide; please know that its contents could be triggering. If you or someone you know and love are experiencing suicidal thoughts or need to reach out, please don't hesitate to talk to someone. You are...

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Eight Monday evenings for two hours

"Psychology for Beginners":

Ego, super-ego, id

Neurosis by osmosis, Freud, Jung Adler,

Cognitive therapy, Gestalt, Twin studies,

Attachment Theory

I never knew how unhappy I was

I'm half-way through now, a mass of

Symptoms, fresh phobias

Nesting in my head, making sense of what caused

Those empty evenings to start with.

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Our personalities do keep us sane,

And from day to day should be the same

-The same way to think and behave,

Whether you be a king or a slave.

When we go to sleep and after wake,

We should be the same between that break.

To have the same attitude and qualities,

Our role in this world and how to perceive.

The same things that we love and hate.

Each day leading t...

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*Original date true, minor format edit in '²²

____________________

maybe you're amazed by mayhem.  sweet mayhem.

chaos colored lipstick screams, tumultuous as she licks her lips

a wild and tangled disarray, her hair - a disheveled decadent disorder

cascading down past swaying hips

rolling, undulating as she slips

her thoughts into your consciousness

ideas driven by desire i...

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There's many things behind poetry that is still a mystery today. Why does it make us feel a certain way when certain words are placed together? Is it that it's relatable? Nostalgic? Reassuring? I know many people that don't enjoy poetry and many that do. Why is that? Are those that dislike it close-minded? Does it show they haven't been through what the poem is implying, therefore they can't relat...

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With an intent of
Stripping off all--Wives & footholds--
And taking over,
A monkey measures
And measures
Father's foot mark
Walking behind father's back
And inflict on the same attack
Cognizant ,subject to
The wear and tear of time
, feeble,
A defensive hand
The father could lack!

A mentor,  I helped
An apprentice
Acquire a sharp mind
And a nimble hand
Till on his feet stand.

...

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With each and every prose I think of new things to outpour onto this page. Ideas and feelings flow through me, conflicting, and most of the time I am ok.

I've been sober since then; nothing helps this anymore. Every day starts out slow, in a haze, then I feel ok and content and myself for a few hours. Once noon rolls around, my heart hurts, my stomach turns, my head spins, and I leave class to ...

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The demons swim where no one sees,

But no one hear their ill-lighted screams,

Instructions so inlawful and oblique,

Heard by no one except from me.

I see the word guilt but what does it mean?

Seems like a fictional desire that I won't feel,

No conscience to stop me from doing wrong,

A knife in my hand as they sing their twisted song.

Is it too late to say sorry now that the...

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The demons swim where no one sees,

But no one hear their ill-lighted screams,

Instructions so inlawful and oblique,

Heard by no one except from me.

I see the word guilt but what does it mean?

Seems like a fictional desire that I won't feel,

No conscience to stop me from doing wrong,

A knife in my hand as they sing their twisted song.

Is it too late to say sorry now that the...

Read and leave comments (0)

The demons swim where no one sees,

But no one hear their ill-lighted screams,

Instructions so inlawful and oblique,

Heard by no one except from me.

I see the word guilt but what does it mean?

Seems like a fictional desire that I won't feel,

No conscience to stop me from doing wrong,

A knife in my hand as they sing their twisted song.

Is it too late to say sorry now that the...

Read and leave comments (0)

The demons swim where no one sees,

But no one hear their ill-lighted screams,

Instructions so inlawful and oblique,

Heard by no one except from me.

I see the word guilt but what does it mean?

Seems like a fictional desire that I won't feel,

No conscience to stop me from doing wrong,

A knife in my hand as they sing their twisted song.

Is it too late to say sorry now that the...

Read and leave comments (0)

The demons swim where no one sees,

But no one hear their ill-lighted screams,

Instructions so inlawful and oblique,

Heard by no one except from me.

I see the word guilt but what does it mean?

Seems like a fictional desire that I won't feel,

No conscience to stop me from doing wrong,

A knife in my hand as they sing their twisted song.

Is it too late to say sorry now that the...

Read and leave comments (0)

See their faces so jaded

With all the torturous barking they hear

Over and over and over again

Assaulting their innocent ears

Our mouths keep spitting out poison

There’s bile wrapped in every word

After all these years of affection

How did our love become so absurd?

And I hope, just hope

You sleep sound and safe in your single bed on this night

I kn...

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Twisted Maleficarum turned abomination

desperately seeking a return to one's humanity.

Expelling demons,

pumping passion like the blood that summoned them.

Bleeding tears, sweating fears

soaked in trepidation.

Summon some feeling

no time for healing

when paint is just pain with

twin pronged brush strokes.

Tattered, trying, tonal

...

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