the way the lightning strikes
is the way that you love
you see something in pain,
struggling, and you-
you are the harbinger of all things good.
your lightning is your presence
your thunder is your determination
your rain is your healing
your vegetation is your growth.
you are all that is good, so you
deserve all that is good-
not deceit
not struggles
not harm
not false hope
not pain not hurt
not sadness nor
helplessness.
you are the calm
you are the storm
you are the aftermath.
Dec 16, 2019
Dec 16, 2019 at 10:47 AM UTC
They’ll check your wrists,
But not your thighs,
They’ll check your smile,
But not your eyes
They’ll avoid the truth,
Believe the lies,
Nothing to sooth,
No reason to cry,
Our smiles are bright,
Eyes are a bit dull,
Wrists are clean despite,
The blade with an emotional pull,
And we’re emotionally unstable,
But they say that’s okay,
We are all a bit of a riddle,
But that’s the only thing we can convey,
And the world will open to swallow us up,
But that’s okay, at least our habits remain,
And when their arms finally open up,
We will show them the reflection they taught us to shame,
So we paint a smile with the color of red,
From the thighs they didn’t check,
And from our eyes we bled.
And they'll only understand,
When the noose hold us by our necks,
And if they had thought twice,
Maybe our eyes they would have checked.
May 8, 2019
May 8, 2019 at 8:27 PM UTC
you see,
that’s the problem
with being the strong one
who always offers others
a hand
everyone thinks that you
don’t need a hand and
they think you have lots
of surplus energy and no
worries
(s.m)*
Feb 23, 2019
Feb 23, 2019 at 8:35 PM UTC
you make me hate being a kid.
i haven't had nearly as many opportunities as my peers.
you say you hate parenting.
becoming a parent was your choice.
i didn't ask to be here.
Feb 23, 2019
Feb 23, 2019 at 8:33 PM UTC
Snow-so pure. So
fresh.
So childish.
Small, splattering, scarlet droplets
is all it takes to take away the
value of something so pure.
Making it something.
Damaged. matured.
Scarlet that looks smooth
as silk
Puts on a facade for something brutish,
Scandalous, even.
Fluffy white sheets are graceful with the way
on the house they lay.
Inside, the spacious skeleton is more demanding.
haunting. Echoes of yelling. Cursing. breaking.
Shattering-
is it my time?
scarlet painting her own face.
no. this is the
beginning.
Of a journey.
A quest.
a low, grumbling, gutteral
sound.
More scarlet.
For darkness she begged.
for eternal slumber she dreamt.
anything to wash away this scarlet mess.
Feb 23, 2019
Feb 23, 2019 at 8:30 PM UTC