Almost. Almost is the word that comes to mind
When I think about the final tests.
Almost over, almost done, almost there.
Almost nothing in my head, only air.
I’m so scared, I’m so scared,
Return to the place
Where life is a maze
And happiness might not be guaranteed.
Stress, stress, stress
Did you give them your address?
In the midst of all this mess
I am stressed about the deal with the devil.
Now, get out of my head.
Can’t you hear what I said?
As I lay in my bed,
You bring nothing but anxiety and tears.
Pain, hurt, ache
While your health is at stake,
And I see your arm shake
You insist that money doesn’t grow on trees.
And he sits, and he stands, and he now understands
That he’s widowed and she’s never coming back.
And he sits, and he stands, as he now understands
That most of his old friends are gone and he might be next in line.
And I write, and I sit, and I sit on my phone
As I wait for the night to come
And I stress, and I cry, and I understand why
People said life gets harder as we grow.
Apr 13, 2019
Apr 13, 2019 at 7:16 PM UTC
Love is complex
But oh, so, obvious
And when it’s all going right
Is when you both feel godliest
And you dance around each other
Planets around the sun
So, committed to making it work
But when things go south,
He’s just such a ****
And she’s just such a *****
Self-absorbed, and short tempered
Breathe and she’ll burn you
Third degree with the fire in her eye.
And you’re walking out just to slam the door
To say I’m done
when you brush against her arm
And it’s like water on fire
You can hear the hiss
The chemical reaction brings up tears to the surface of her eyes
You turn around and tell her you love her.
She breaks down, cries.
And like that it’s over and you sit down
Once more point out your flaws and you both say
I’m sorry
‘it’s my fault’ ‘No, it’s my fault’
The magma spills through the fissure in the plates
It cools and creates basalt.
The foundations we will build our life on.
And when we just sit,
Not talking.
Not touching,
And miles away
I imagine our house with the beautiful stone
Pillars.
The pillars with carving that you would have done
With love and precision.
Those pillars that will hold up our hearts
When they drop at the sound of bad news.
Love is complex
But oh, so obviously here
And when you hold me
Everything beautiful I want to tell you
Gets stuck in my throat.
I wrote this to tell you how
You are everything that is beautiful.
Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 9:20 AM UTC
Today I accidentally saw a preview of; The News;
a disabled sixteen-year-old girl, a victim of abuse
god
The accused is a priest. A round man in a long black cassock
And a snip view from mass of another priest plays shortly
My face turns green as my mood turns blue
He says he has a holy feeling, that the accusations aren’t true.
A cult; /kʌlt/ noun
‘a system of religious veneration and devotion directed towards a particular figure or object.’
We show our devotion, we kneel and give thanks
He applies lotion, looks at a child and wanks.
god
Everyone is entitled to their beliefs, and to the respect of those beliefs.
My belief is that no human is superior to another human.
A priest is only a man.
And this man in the long black cassock had a plan.
And this child will remain terrorized forever.
People should be held accountable for their actions.
Women’s lives are not to be of similar value to male satisfactions.
An article on ‘The year of ‘Times Up’ and ‘Me Too’ movements has been a dangerous year for men.’
Every year from the beginning of time has been a dangerous year for a woman.
Innocent men are not in danger.
I was sexualized and assaulted at the age of eleven. #MeToo
I wasn’t wearing a short skirt. I wasn’t drunk. I wasn’t provocative.
I was playing chase.
For years after that game of chase
I had nightmares featuring his face
This is not your place to say this year is dangerous, for men.
Times Up
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 3:48 PM UTC
We are going to die
Whether you cried out your goodbyes
Or not
Whether you admitted to all your lies
Or not
We are going to die.
One breath a long way ahead
Or just the one in a second or two
Will be our last.
One angry scream a long way ahead
Or yesterday due
Will be our last.
We are going to die.
Whether you had time to reflect on your past
Or not...
Whether your heart whithered too fast
Or not..
We are going to die.
And you could have loved
Or you could have been running away
from love
All your tedious life
And you could have hated
And hated all that you ever had
All your pitiful life
You're going to die
Jun 8, 2016
Jun 8, 2016 at 6:20 PM UTC
They said
Don’t wear leggings
Or a shirt that shows your cleavage
Because you need to be covered up
You’re a distraction
They said
Don’t use your period as an excuse
For male teachers to let you go to the bathroom
Because you’re not fooling anybody
They said
Don’t shave your head
Boys can
You can’t and don’t
And won’t because we’ll suspend you
They said
Watch the length of your skirt
The colour of your hair
The shoes and makeup
The piercings
And they call that fair
They said
Come to us if something is wrong
if you’re feeling bullied
if you feel unsafe
I guess they don’t remember asking my friend and I
if we heard of anyone in our year with suicidal tendencies
They asked us because
We were the sensible ones
The bright ones
We couldn't have been depressed.
I guess they didn’t see my panic
and my hand squeezing my wrist.
Because school
Is not a place
Where you can express who you are
School is not the place where you feel safe
It's a battle ground on the outside of your comfort zone.
School isn’t about education
Its a challenge, competition
Its a measurement of your capabilities
But what if you don't excel?
You’re called out for not being good enough
You're humiliated. Mocked.
You get looked down on
Judged
Embarrassed
And you don’t get your
Degree
As if a degree explains who you are
What you’ve been through
How much you’re worth
As if a degree
Measures the capacity
Of your heart
And your knowledge
And a teacher can share your grade
Make a joke and smirk
Cause they think you’re not worth it
And they can laugh and yell and call your parents
Who don’t think you’re any better.
Because year after year they’ve been led to believe
that you’re easily distracted
that you don’t do what you’re told
that you’re rebellious
Because even if you showed respect to the hypocrisy
That you can't help but notice,
They still won’t understand that you're just fighting
for what you believe is right, for mutual respect.
Because that’s not what you were thought.
You were thought to raise your hand when you want to speak.
And even if you made a valid point
You would still get lectured on putting your hand up when you want to speak.
Discipline put first.
And that is my definition of school
May 16, 2016
May 16, 2016 at 4:45 PM UTC
Its time to tell
Its time to confess
Its time for my mom to not have to guess
I will break through
Ill let go of the blame
Its time for me to exit his game
I'll speak the truth
I'll share the pain
I'll stand with survivors
Honesty will reign
I didn't deserve this
I know this now
Hand in hand, justice we vow
Twelve year old girl
Whose world took a whirl
He touched her deeply
treated her cheaply
Ripped apart
She was so confused
But I'm here for her now
Inside she knew she was being abused
'It's natural. It's okay... I've done it before'
****** assault
She thought it was her fault
'It's gonna feel nice'
That's what he swore
The little girl opened the door
He was willing to give more
or take more
Three years passed by
Every day black and white
she still felt the guilt
she still couldn't fight
'I'll tell your granny, you whore'
Sick to the core
It followed her like it was her crime
Turned out all she needed was time
The little girl suited up in armour
She now has an army, an army of survivors.
Jun 14, 2015
Jun 14, 2015 at 9:38 AM UTC
Darkness falls onto the street
killing the light, it has to retreat.
The sun and the safety leaves me behind
the fear creeps in and I'm loosing my mind.
Through my own sobbing I hear a sound
My legs are shaking... but so is the ground.
Minutes pass by and all I see is blood.
Drowning the village, a crimson flood.
I see eyes, black like death
One.. two? I smell his breath.
A beautiful angel with very pale skin
Blood running down his mesmerizing chin.
Teeth sharp and white ..
My blood rushing through me, in odd delight.
A smile polite, but I'm craving his bite.
My crimson angel, make it tonight
Make it tonight, the night that I died.
Feed on my blood, like it's your air
Drink it roughly, No need to spare
Take it all, It's all for you
My vampire prince, make this love true.
Oh crimson angel, sinking your teeth
into my skin, and what's underneath.
Sinking your teeth, into my vein
Beautiful pain, I can't explain.
The river of red, our sheet tonight
Sleep is taking me over, I don't want to fight.
Oh crimson angel, your body so cold
Dying in your arms, a gorgeous sensation untold.
Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 3:15 PM UTC
You lost control
Over your own soul.
Looking like a tree
without
any
leaves.
Because the leaves they fell off
It's what happens with love...
You don't need the leaves
So you let them fall
but you lost control
you lost control
over your own soul.
Like an artist, too late to create.
He came when it's dark
To draw the scene in the park..
But the moon lost it's spark
So it's way to dark to create.
It's what happens in hate.
When you're just too late to forgive.
No chances left to give..
So you're lost in the dark.
You lost control.
Lost control
over your own soul.
Pushed away love
And greeted hate..
Well I suppose..
This was fate.
It's Not Too Late
Not too late to decide
Too live again
Because after Winter..
The tree grows new leaves
And after Night
The Sun shines new beams.
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 10:13 AM UTC
I was abused as a child.
I'm haunted by my fear, my past
It felt like a horror movie, scariest the cast.
The guilt and pain embedded in my mind
natural like a clown in a circus. An animal on a farm.
He would say it was natural, he would tell me I was fine
But I was only I child, and he knew he was crossing a line
There I was stuck
Between being a child and being ****
Was it my fault, that it would feel good
Was it my fault that I didn't scream when I should
He was only two years older
And every time I said no, he would get so much colder.
I wanted out, it was getting too much
So he tricked me into his house
where he would hold me down for his friend to touch
I was eleven, and I couldn't stand up
So I started to scream as the panic kicked in
and if his friend was braver, if he hadn't said let her go,
I would have been ***** eight years ago
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 11:44 AM UTC