He told me I was beautiful
He made me feel loved
He kissed me softly
He whispered sweet nothings
He reached his hands
He touched me all over
I tried to speak
He kissed me harder
He held me firmly
He told me it was okay
He know I wanted it
He grabbed me
He kept me down
I couldn’t speak
I couldn’t move
I couldn’t say no
Mar 6, 2018
Mar 6, 2018 at 9:02 PM UTC
I twitch
I shout
Without thinking
I move
I make noise
I don’t have any control
I ****
I yelp
Without thinking
I flick
I whimper
I never had control
I jump
I yell
Without thinking
I twist
I scream
I’ll never have control
Mar 5, 2018
Mar 5, 2018 at 8:16 PM UTC
When things are always going wrong
you start to lose faith.
My faith in God is waning.
A God who loves his people,
wants them to live,
to be happy,
a loving God,
would let so many horrific things happen.
He let my heart be shattered.
He made me autistic.
He made me with Tourette’s.
He let my parents fall out of love.
He took my best friend.
I’ve lost faith in the god of deathless death,
pain, loss, and oppression.
Mar 4, 2018
Mar 4, 2018 at 5:32 PM UTC
I wake up
head ****
shoulder roll
tongue click
I get ready for school
head ****
head ****
groan
I get on the bus
oi
whimper
I put on my headphones
arm ****
People stare
oi
I suppress
They build
The minutes drag on
Like an itch they can’t be ignored
The bus can’t go fast enough
They’re pushing up
We arrive at school
They’re going to escape
I run off the bus
They begin to explode
head ****
arm ****
I distance myself from the students
oi
arm ****
head ****
head ****
groan
tongue click
tongue click
whimper
They stare
shoulder roll
arm ****
shoulder roll
whimper
oi
oi
Everyday I tic and twitch
Mar 3, 2018
Mar 3, 2018 at 10:34 PM UTC
You came in black.
Drenched in black,
encompassing the night into your every move.
Sun or moon for each eye,
stars twinkling your feet
so that you can slip quietly in,
black holes removing all evidence of breaking in.
You crept slowly, surely
grabbing everything you found,
every little
secret, scar, soul shine
into that bag you clung to,
clutching it so that it hung from your back.
You passed my fire place.
Empty, with nothing left but coal and dust.
The fire once there?
Now long extinguished.
You shivered,
and continued looking.
You glanced at the kitchen counter.
Strewn across it were spices
and ripped up shreds of pictures
of all those loved.
Mixed into remnants of
entrees, appetizers, desserts,
too good to be true,
gobbled up too fast,
gone.
You shudder,
continue.
Finally, you find what you're looking for.
In the basement, kept in a safe right by where I slept,
you found it.
You reached towards me,
slowly, silkily took the key I had around my neck
as I sighed at your touch and unconsciously let you take it.
You twisted the key,
opened the safe
and grabbed the
ornately scarred,
worn down wooden
box that was held inside.
You opened the box.
Inside lay a red thing.
It resembled a minuscule
mauled, mangled, mutilated
crimson heart.
You sighed with relief and tossed the box and it's hideous contents into the bag.
You grabbed everything else you found and put it inside your bag.
Some were lead heavy, others too light...
Memories kept too long,
some fading,
some still fresh,
others just too strong of a memory.
You crept quietly away,
but not before you heard me whisper your name.
You looked away
like the coward you are
and left the house.
Feb 28, 2018
Feb 28, 2018 at 7:55 PM UTC
i dont understand why i feel the way i do
why at a certain word,
or a certain picture
my heart will seize in my chest
hold my organs in,
bracing itself
only to go forth
and shake and tremble
and perpetually ache
like an old sore not healed
i wonder why i can't stop
digging graves for myself
despite being in a state of bliss
why when theres nothing wrong
i always expect the worst to be right around the corner
and instead of waiting for the worst to come
i make the worst
i guess i was never really patient in the first place
Feb 28, 2018
Feb 28, 2018 at 7:51 PM UTC
As an artist I should love all colors.
As a boy I cannot love them all.
Browns
Blues
Purples
are colors I know too well.
They're the colors of bad days
And long nights.
They lead to tear stained pillows
and sleepless nights.
They’re the imprints of his rings against my skin
and his slurred words in my ears.
They’re a reminder that my father
isn’t a dad.
Feb 28, 2018
Feb 28, 2018 at 7:49 PM UTC
The notebook beneath my hands
holds all my secrets
My fears and my hopes
My dreams and my nightmares
My pride and my shame
The pen between my fingers
bleeds ink onto the pages
My thoughts flow through it
My emotions flood through it
My feelings shoot through it
The pages enclosed in it
are tattooed with the years
My childhood marked on them
My youth etched on them
My adolescence carved on them
This notebook is filled
with things that make me
My history
My present
My life
Feb 28, 2018
Feb 28, 2018 at 7:24 PM UTC
July 20,2017
and here i am
thousands of miles away
far from home
and i still cant relax
and here i am
thousands of miles in the air
and my chest still feels as heavy as before.
Feb 28, 2018
Feb 28, 2018 at 6:55 PM UTC
People are like snowflakes
At first they seem to be the same
A look closer reveals
No two are the same
In the end they were small
Just blips in oblivion
But every one is just as beautiful as the last
Their words are inky imprints in time
Like footprints in the snow they leave trails
To places beyond ourselves
Their words can be loud
Their words can be quite
They can be heard by two or millions
But each is just as powerful as the last
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 9:58 PM UTC