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 Dec 2017 Alexandra C
V
My mother taught me neglect
And my father taught me fear,
It's not something you can just "forget",
The source of my paim seems clear;
It tastes like love but it is not ,
I am one who has forgot,
To know what home is like and can be called,
It feels so real but sadly-it's false.
Childhood Trauma
 Dec 2017 Alexandra C
Lio
When a tweet, no longer comes from a bird.
A message, no longer written in words.
A picture, determines your current worth.
A swipe, is not for payments against earns.

Your world, no longer restricted to earth.
Your voice, can control your universe.
Games, without company, a box.
Books, used to be written, forgot.

Love was in letters, not characters.
Eyes looked straight, not down.
Communication, in touch were sound.
Reactions, were not button frowns.

Food shared, not delivered.
Noise surrounded, not muted.
Hands shaken, not email awaken.
The world was claimed, but not hidden.

An automated world,
not an automated me.
 Mar 2017 Alexandra C
frankie
roses
 Mar 2017 Alexandra C
frankie
the girl adored roses, hung them on her wall like a trophy
but she always killed the roses instead of waiting for them to die
she said to the roses
"we've got a lot in common you and I, two impatient souls ready to die"
My bodies cold,
My lips are blue,
I did this.
All because of you.
                                      ©MH
 Mar 2017 Alexandra C
MP Martinez
rope tied on my neck
silver knife on my wrist
bottle of pills beside my feet
offer me a good night sleep
dark thoughts....
 Mar 2017 Alexandra C
Anon
-
 Mar 2017 Alexandra C
Anon
-
sometimes
death seems like the most viable option
Trigger was hit
Tag, your it
Off goes the switch
Watch the twitch
Bang goes the gun
Wasn't this life fun

©Pauline Russell
This prison is a place where darkness only breeds
and the shadows dance with themselves,
playing tricks on my eyes, darting quickly across the walls
only to vanish upon my focused gaze.

I once caught a glimpse of these hypnotic specters;
cruel machinations of tortured souls revealed themselves
to be nothing more than corrupted reflections of myself
wandering aimlessly through a hall of mirrors.

These rooms were once traversable,
but now this maze is more twisted than my own intentions;
unheeded, unnoticed and smiling, like a knife in the dark
waiting for an opportunity to quell any ambitions
that may lead to freedom.
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