His Skin

Discussion in 'Off Topic' started by Inimical, Sep 5, 2020.

  1. Peeling at his skin,
    His blood freshly blossomed.
    Self love running thin,
    He didn't know it'd cost him.

    How could he be happy,
    Being blessed with a dark complexion?
    Everyone has a negative fixation,
    Of him at no discretion.

    He can't breathe,
    Suffocating from the racism.
    It's his own people too,
    Not just white supremacist facism.

    Too much darkness,
    Is deeply rooted in his thoughts.
    He wanted to protest it,
    Discouraged by his slain brethren.

    Just for being born,
    A certain way he couldn't control...
    The vast majority of soceity,
    Made judging him their goal.

    So he sits in the dark,
    Peeling his skin...
    His God given,
    Beautiful chocolate skin.

    Tears don't mix with blood,
    Each deep tear wounds his soul.
    Comparing his skin to mud,
    He lets opinions get to him.

    The emotional and mental pain,
    Hits different than the physical.
    He's peeling away at his blessing,
    Not caring for what'll be residual.

    Constantly observed and followed,
    Living under the dictation of opinions.
    He's an advocate for cowards,
    Too scared to speak up or speak out.

    Clawing away at his blessing,
    He hated his own pigment.
    His very existence felt depressing,
    How could he bare his own hatred?

    When nothing was left of his skin,
    He finally realized...
    How blessed with a rich complexion,
    He was before he died.
     
  2. Crawling in my skin
    These wounds, they will not heal
    Fear is how I fall
    Confusing what is real
    There's something inside me that pulls beneath the surface
    Consuming, confusing
    This lack of self control I fear is never ending
    Controlling
    I can't seem
    To find myself again
    My walls are closing in
    (Without a sense of confidence I'm convinced
    That there's just too much pressure to take)
    I've felt this way before
    So insecure
    Crawling in my skin
    These wounds, they will not heal
    Fear is how I fall
    Confusing what is real
    Discomfort, endlessly has pulled itself upon me
    Distracting, reacting
    Against my will I stand beside my own reflection
    It's haunting how I can't seem
    To find myself again
    My walls are closing in
    (Without a sense of confidence I'm convinced
    That there's just too much pressure to take)
    I've felt this way before
    So insecure
    Crawling in my skin
    These wounds, they will not heal
    Fear is how I fall
    Confusing what is real
    Crawling in my skin
    These wounds, they will not heal
    Fear is how I fall
    Confusing, confusing what is real
    There's something inside me that pulls beneath the surface
    Consuming (confusing what is real)
    This lack of self control I fear is never ending
    Controlling (confusing what is real)
     
    ToastyGhosty likes this.
  3. now those are poetic verses worth reading, well put together and simply beautiful, unlike OPs nonsense. also r.i.p CB
     
  4. How can someone like you relate to the poem to begin with?
     
  5. you dont even know me snowflake πŸ˜‚ shut up
     
  6. Are you not Mexican or white? How can you relate? Rhetorical question
     
  7. πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚ im a human like you. quit crying and acting like your more important than anyone else
     
  8. Acting? Acting? For one, I never stated that I was more important...

    But in all actuality your personality is shit, you make yourself less important every time you start your one sided arguements
     
  9. πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚okay worthless, whatever you say. as long as you feel more important then the world can continue spinning on
     
  10. I support shutting down every Chipotle 2020
     
  11. πŸ˜• okay thats fantastic
     
  12. Forums is too dead. Lawnmower is missing a good choice of targets. He might be here for its final rest.
     
  13. He just needs that final push so he stops being scaredπŸ˜‚