You tell me I'm selfish
But who was left to clean the blood?
Who left their children, for their love twas never good enough!
We were never good enough for you to live...
we were only good enough for you to die.

I took my fill, repeated history
as my uncle before me
walked between life and death
even before I left your womb
I was on the edge, between worlds
lost in the void

My heart stopped twice
And it has tried to stop ever since
all it has ever wanted, was to STOP

You were rushed out
with every peeping light
every flashing siren, every nurse and doctor
There is no power in motherhood
where death is concerned

Tiny little babe, with no air to breathe
no strength to thrive and no life to live
was forced yet to live

By "force" I mean you.

You call me selfish
40 intoxicating pills later
You call me selfish
A bloodied arm later
You call me selfish
23years later.

In truth I was forced to live
You are selfish
You forced me to live
a life you couldn't even live for...

You are selfish
because you failed to pull the plug

#suicide   #self   #harm   #life   #death   #family   #childhood   #motherhood   #baby   #hospital  
Kash
Kash
2 days ago

I won't tell anyone
What happened to my body
When I was too young to stop it
It is a secret
I've clothed myself with the burden
Let it bore holes in my little soul
I won't tell anyone
What happened to my body

Chris Neilson
Chris Neilson
3 days ago

This inner city district once thrived on coal
now vanished through time into a deep hole
unrecognisable and riddled with crime
my memories of childhood frozen in time

I wish it was like when I was young
remembering faces, hearing songs sung
bustling shops where community would prevail
deserted now with cheap houses for sale

Landlords exploiting new arrivals plight
my once streets of play gone, nothing seems right
sinister figures in shadows selling their wares
watchful and guarded, even dogs walk in pairs

Be careful with cherished childhood thoughts of play
frozen memories could thaw and melt away
rose tinted worlds should never be explored
a boat to be cared for, but always moored

I wrote this after a recent walk through the area where I was born and raised. It was a bad idea.
Temporal Fugue
Temporal Fugue
4 days ago

Sergeant Weeble, stepped up
to the firing line
insuring every soldier
aimed, and took his time

The evil dinosaur rebellion
it just had to be put down
saving every good toy motionless
on the battleground

The Sergeant loudly exclaimed
"RELEASE THE DESTROYER!"
all is not, as it is claimed
Destroyer released, within the foyer

The fell Destroyer now freed
to deliver killing blows
the rank and file reminder
a laying low, of friend, and foe

It doesn't matter, if you take
all the toy guns away
a tennis ball destroyer
will always, win the day

I remember hours spent lining up my toys, and knocking em down time and time again. Who needs toy guns, when an imaginative weapon, requires only two fingers on my hand, with a hammer thumb? :D
.
SoulSurvivor
SoulSurvivor
5 days ago

The story Clinton Jarvis - my father.

Isle La Motte Roots

There's a place of quiet peace
In beautiful Vermont
It is filled with history
It beckons you, and haunts
In pacific Lake Champlain
It's called Isle La Motte

The lake is long and narrow
A lovely gem-like blue
The Island lies within its shores
It is a jewel, too.
Emerald in the summer
In fall a topaz hue

Old style houses charm us
With plain stone quarry frames
There are many maple trees
In fall these become flame
Churches with tall steeples
All barns look much the same.

From Blanchard's Point to The Head
North to south we go
Clark's & Reynolds to Fisk & Scott's
These east/west points we know
From The Lighthouse & Fort Stann
To the marble quarries low.

It seems the rock on Isle La Motte
Was formed from glacial ice
Which pressed the clay beneath it
As if it were a vice
The marble from the quarries
Is especially nice!

Samuel Fisk founded some of these
Marble blue, black, and grey
Many used the sturdy stones
Solid houses in the way
They can be found everywhere
And still stand to this day.

There was an ingenious sawmill
Powered by a boat!
A large and hearty steamer
By The Dock would float
The "Utica" by name
As sawmill founders wrote.

The taverns and inns
Had distinctive place
It would be so heartening
To see a merry face
There the weary travellers
Could find warmth and grace.

Famous for its apples
There are many orchards found
John Bowman & William Yale
Planted in the ground
My father was one who picked from them
Folks came from miles around.

The Fleury Store had merchandise
Sold to people from their stock
Carson's Store and Naylor's
Store to store the folks would walk
Often a place of meeting
Where people stood to talk.

Elizabeth Fisk. Creative.
She had looms, and linen wrought
This fabric so very fine
Much of it was bought
There were also boats and ferries
On an island... used a lot!

Nelson Fisk secured the Post Office
James Ritchie built in stone
His relation, Cynthia
Maintained the library alone
Succeeded by M. LaBombard
For faithfulness much known.

Both Methodist and Catholic
Worship the Divine
The faithful go to churches
No matter what the clime
A place of fame on Isle La Motte
Is lovely St Anne's Shrine.

The original schools on Isle La Motte
We're founded by strong men
Independent. Intelligent.
Created they back then.
Back in 1782 they had discerning ken.

The school my father went to
Only had one room.
He graduated the 8th grade
For his future groomed
But went to High School elsewhere
Back then quite a boon!

The Jarvis' were tennent farmers
Not much to be made
But the beauty of the place
Embraced them in its shade
T'was in this environment
Where young Clinton played.

Amongst the leaves - jade and fire
Honey'd amber caught
He found a love of nature
He was reared and taught
Here his story started

A place called Isle La Motte.


SoulSurvivor
Catherine Jarvis
(C)1/11/2017

Finally completed! This segment in my father's biography took a while due to the
amount of research done. As you can see!

Sorry i haven't been around. This poem is
part of the reason why!

I'm going to present this to my now
hospitalised father this weekend. It will
be written out on posters in large writing
so he can read it... he's completely deaf and
going blind. It will bring back many fond
memories to him I'm sure! He certainly
deserves happiness about now!

PLEASE PRAY OR SEND GOOD THOUGHTS!

♡ LOVE YOU ALL! ♡
vc
vc
7 days ago

i should like to be without thought in spaces so uncoming
that i,                             unthinking  
                                                   could wander amiss
without the downward cast of brow on brow
to that holed in moment
                            close like whispers in cold air
where trapped are days of high sunned earth
    and tilled up clouds                          that move with frenzy
over      vasts of          unbridled  
                       youth
for       i think
it is only without thought that I can go there as barred as i’ve been
by trees that cut     and point
                              in accusation of the height i’ve stolen
as they’ve long forgotten those shinning gems
                    when i through them a captain
                                                      could be
they forget as i
have forgotten thee

#growingup   #young   #trees   #childhood   #youth   #adult  

I cannot lie,the city will always have my heart
And I will always stretch out my arms towards the Great Perhaps,
Towards the wide cerulean oceans,the grassy plains and the freezing mountains
For I long to be free—not the kind of free you made me feel,the kind of free I need to be because I am trapped,crushed under the weight of existing
But always remember that you have always been and you will continue to be,my home
There are spaces in my heart left for you to fill,
My hands will always long for the feeling you made me feel as I danced with your winds,
And my skin will never find another lover as great as your Sun—it will always miss the way your Sun kissed my shoulders,I will always miss the exhilarating feeling I felt whenever I ran chasing your Sunsets
And the rush I felt climbing your mountains,spreading out my arms as I stood at the zenith,wondering if that's how it felt like to fly
I will always miss your stars—they taught me how to love the night,taught me how to map out my dreams and plot where we'll be in your skies
I'm sorry I can no longer dance under your moonlight or play hide and seek with the little urchins
These days all that I hide from are the versions of me I try to bury deep beneath the bottom of my childhood drawer and all that kisses my skin is ink and sharp steel
And all that I feel when I stand at the top of the city's towering heights is the fear of free falling and the inevitable death of each and every piece of me left as I do so,as I let myself fall and sink into the abyss more
But I will climb back up again,I can and I will climb multiple mountains,travel a thousand roads and get lost in all of the cities of the world,I'll find myself and I won't be too afraid because I know I will always have a home
You will always be my home,will you?
-W.L.A.C.

Inspired by Ed Sheeran's "Castle on the Hill" and my childhood (if I had any lol)

Oh you slippery childhood
now that I have grasped you in the memories as an adult
i realized you slipped from time
leaving the stamps of scars from your slipping tripping and falling

Oh i remember you well
we were charming and happy once
until you lost to the world as
you slipped so many times
every time like some unvalued dime

you slipped as your uncle's hand slipped in your skirt
and then the shirt
you were already fallen and hurt
until you realized that this game was tough for a girl so young

you slipped as the grades slipped from your school report
and again when the mother's tongue slipped with disappointment
you were already torn apart
until you realized that you slipped once more

you slipped once again
when the cloaked words of your street romeo slipped from his tongue
as he announced the things he wanted to do with you from across the street
your eyes were already shamed
until you realized that you slipped once more

you slipped again
when math teacher became harder than math
as he tried to tuck those stare behind the unsolved problems
you were already down on the floor
as you slipped once more

you slipped again
when you wore the black coat with teary eyes
and won the case nullifying your parent's divorce  
you slipped from me
but you were already too broken to be mended again
as you slipped a little harder


oh you slippery childhood
you played hopscotch behind the curtains
and cycled me through the springs
you grew a lot more
until i realized you slipped once more

i lost my innocence at eight years old
and i wish someone would have told me that
i wish i hadn't figured it out by myself when my trust in anything that was supposed to be safe was already long gone
i wish i hadn't walked up to him
i wish i wasn't afraid to tell people that i did because i'm afraid to hear someone blame me for it
i wish i didn't blame me for it
i wish i never have to experience that awful feeling of simultaneous disgust, shame, dirtiness, and confusion again
every time i've taken my shirt off for ten years straight.
when i shower.
when anyone touches me even in the most innocent way.
that feeling like the only way i could ever feel completely clean would be to burn my skin off.
that feeling that consumes my mind out of the blue and suddenly i'm that little girl in the green and white striped skort again that didn't understand what happened to her
just that it was bad
the little girl that nobody taught to differentiate between what was okay along with the real, blunt reason why and what happened to her so any sort of physical contact with people felt wrong
i wish i could never feel that again
i wish it could be night all the time and no one would ever be around
they warn you about wandering too far from home when you're alone
about going out after dark and playing in places without people around
about the bad people, the sick malicious perverts, that you have to watch out for
they don't tell you about the good people that just don't know what they're doing
they don't tell you about the grandfather with dementia watching his grandson play at the park in broad day light surrounded by people
at least, they don't tell you to stay away from him
daylight has never made me feel more secure than darkness
and seeing people nearby has never brought me comfort
because nothing has ever made me feel more unsafe and vulnerable than that day in the park
in broad daylight
surrounded by people

I push myself
To touch
And to be touched
To get used to the feeling
Of gentleness
But sometimes I can not
And the touch becomes
Too much

When my nephew wants a hug
I try so hard
Not to pull away
You see
I'm truly afraid
Of hurting him
In some way
So I try not to touch him
But I do it anyway
Because I want to hold him
But I fear his pain
All I want is to hug
Without being afraid
Of hurting others
Or being hurt myself

Some touches remind me of that day
And I can't help but cringe
And run away
From a person who was so kind
As to offer gentle affection
To a broken spirit
And I repay them with brazen rejection
I'm sorry
It wasn't my intention
I want love
I want to feel normal
Someone help
Save me from my self-deprecation

Casual touch does not always come easily to people.
#love   #sad   #pain   #hurt   #past   #touch   #childhood  
 
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