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preston Jan 2021
--And,

After picking her beautiful
jaw  up, off the ground
over the shock-blast of  realizing
that  she (after all of these years)
   had been  finally seen..

there was a shuffling  noise
that I could hear in the background
over the phone..

and I couldn't tell  if it  was her--

scrambling to finish  filling out
the restraining order she started
last week

or maybe  
just  flopping around  in the dark
in her search for the block button

But perhaps..  just perhaps
she is running upstairs  to find  for herself,  
a dry pair of *******

Or better yet,  in order to
race into her room,  her clothes--
strewn,  in a wake behind her
in her overwhelming  need

to knock out  a whole series  of
wildly uncontrollable, release (s)

Strange how it is
that  far too often  these things
can go either way--
yet either way, sweet love

your beautiful jaw
will never again,  be the same

Xo
you're welcome
Sabila Siddiqui Jul 2018
I don't understand
why are we concealing our heaviness
our heartaches
our blues
behind laughter.
Packaging them as humor
and art with a ribbon on top
when it's dark raw and pain
I don't understand
why we aren't talking about it.
Because it is just becoming worse
for you, I everyone.
was his preference to adopt
a concealing type of name
so he'd not be discovered
in the ******* game

but an incognito title
didn't fool one little bit
for his depraved posts
showed a ******* skit

he'd groomed children
all over the world globe
who were innocent victims
of his deviant robe

he'd been suspected
of carnal exploitation
which he did perform
without any hesitation

were his computer files
to be checked by cops
they'd reveal him as
being well tainted slops
Medinah Aousunt Mar 2015
Layers and layers devour me
concealing what I dare not see.
Despite protest, despite proof,
I'm buried alive despite the truth.
A bold face warrior holding back the past;
a cold case murderer molding up the  mask.
Poem created by Medinah Aousunt

— The End —