maddie-renee - Hello Poetry

My used to be second family sat behind us. The walls of the courtroom beat me more than my heart could. It was not my choice, The order of protection was forced. I was forced to tell the detectives what my parents wanted to hear. All of this happened because I made a mistake. I chose a blondie over a brown eyed beauty. Now for a whole year my best friend is gone. His family hates me. Nothing will be the same. Adams street will always be dull, And when I walk down that street more moths are born in my stomach than the hope I told you too keep. Now I hope. I hope court didn't sever everything we had. Straight up.

0

Oct 21, 2016

Oct 21, 2016 at 1:54 PM UTC

Courtroom

My used to be second family sat behind us. The walls of the courtroom beat me more than my heart could. It was not my choice, The order of protection was forced. I was forced to tell the detectives what my parents wanted to hear. All of this happened because I made a mistake. I chose a blondie over a brown eyed beauty. Now for a whole year my best friend is gone. His family hates me. Nothing will be the same. Adams street will always be dull, And when I walk down that street more moths are born in my stomach than the hope I told you too keep. Now I hope. I hope court didn't sever everything we had. Straight up.

15

Narcotics Derived from ***** resonates your skin Getting sleep at night erases Bags that drip over the cliff of Your cheekbones that twisted tour smile psychoactive. The tissue that lies beneath your skin soaks sedatives That meditate to the ecstasy seeping Secrets to our family You missed Thanksgiving dinner last year. Now I'm sitting in front of you staring At your veins blue with blood now flushed with heroine The holes on your shirt matched the ones between the crevice of your arms. You shrug me away and Say "hold on bird"

0

Dec 15, 2015

Dec 15, 2015 at 9:32 AM UTC

Them divided by me

Narcotics Derived from ***** resonates your skin Getting sleep at night erases Bags that drip over the cliff of Your cheekbones that twisted tour smile psychoactive. The tissue that lies beneath your skin soaks sedatives That meditate to the ecstasy seeping Secrets to our family You missed Thanksgiving dinner last year. Now I'm sitting in front of you staring At your veins blue with blood now flushed with heroine The holes on your shirt matched the ones between the crevice of your arms. You shrug me away and Say "hold on bird"

14

Dart 1: I did the dishes Dart 2: I cleaned my room Dart 3: I mailed my thank you letters Dart 4: I walked the dog. My mom and I love to play darts. She always hits the bullseye, I always hit the second ring never being being able to match her superiority. Begging her to let me win, she doesn't understand that I don't know how to play as well as she does. After all she was a teenager at one point, She did learn to shoot lies as darts, But I'm still learning how to skin the truth with the feathers of my own darts. I ask her what the score is, 'Mads, you're down by four, if you actually did what you were told and followed the rules of the game, maybe you wouldn't be so behind.' I was always down by four. And it was always for the same reasons: Dart 1: I did the dishes Dart 2: I cleaned my room Dart 3: I mailed my thank you letters Dart 4: I walked the dog I've been playing this game for 17 years, The needle of a dart is sharp especially with the venom of my mothers tongue. I ran up to my room, Shutting my door so they didn't puncture the filth buried beneath my pores, Oozing truth that I didn't want to face. They dug the tips of their teeth into my door. They were shooting in through my window so I pushed myself back to the door, But they locked it. Collapsed on the ground I sat there rocking myself. Letting the lies scrape at the bullseye that my body played on. I dragged my tears like war paint across the cliff of my cheeks, present my target to the open door. Time to play another round, Time to face the darts that I have made.

0

Dec 7, 2015

Dec 7, 2015 at 8:33 PM UTC

Darts. To play? Or to run from?

Dart 1: I did the dishes Dart 2: I cleaned my room Dart 3: I mailed my thank you letters Dart 4: I walked the dog. My mom and I love to play darts. She always hits the bullseye, I always hit the second ring never being being able to match her superiority. Begging her to let me win, she doesn't understand that I don't know how to play as well as she does. After all she was a teenager at one point, She did learn to shoot lies as darts, But I'm still learning how to skin the truth with the feathers of my own darts. I ask her what the score is, 'Mads, you're down by four, if you actually did what you were told and followed the rules of the game, maybe you wouldn't be so behind.' I was always down by four. And it was always for the same reasons: Dart 1: I did the dishes Dart 2: I cleaned my room Dart 3: I mailed my thank you letters Dart 4: I walked the dog I've been playing this game for 17 years, The needle of a dart is sharp especially with the venom of my mothers tongue. I ran up to my room, Shutting my door so they didn't puncture the filth buried beneath my pores, Oozing truth that I didn't want to face. They dug the tips of their teeth into my door. They were shooting in through my window so I pushed myself back to the door, But they locked it. Collapsed on the ground I sat there rocking myself. Letting the lies scrape at the bullseye that my body played on. I dragged my tears like war paint across the cliff of my cheeks, present my target to the open door. Time to play another round, Time to face the darts that I have made.

34

Humans. Different races, Different colors, Different traditions, Different environments, We've never paid our debts from our wars, But what got us there anyway? Differences. We've never been named brothers. We've never learned to accept. We've never learned to love. But when did we ever? We all hold a shovel.

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Nov 29, 2015

Nov 29, 2015 at 11:16 PM UTC

When were we ever?

Humans. Different races, Different colors, Different traditions, Different environments, We've never paid our debts from our wars, But what got us there anyway? Differences. We've never been named brothers. We've never learned to accept. We've never learned to love. But when did we ever? We all hold a shovel.

13

Mr. Snowhiteman, You saw her stemmed to her caramel glazed heels. Her fair white meat was young but not mealy. She was wrapped in a cloth of crisp ironed red silk skin that glazed her bust and rounded her ***** You couldn't help but notice the cinnamon that spiced her cheeks. Mr. Snowhiteman, You introduced her to the enchantment of your poisoned washed walls, while your fingers became peelers and sliced her silk skin down to her bare meat. You couldn't help but take a bite. Crisp. Sweet. Ripened. Mr. Snowhiteman, You were so hungry you left her fair meat bruised. Her skin was peeled off of her, And her innocence harvested.

0

Nov 13, 2015

Nov 13, 2015 at 12:30 PM UTC

Mr. Snowhiteman

Mr. Snowhiteman, You saw her stemmed to her caramel glazed heels. Her fair white meat was young but not mealy. She was wrapped in a cloth of crisp ironed red silk skin that glazed her bust and rounded her ***** You couldn't help but notice the cinnamon that spiced her cheeks. Mr. Snowhiteman, You introduced her to the enchantment of your poisoned washed walls, while your fingers became peelers and sliced her silk skin down to her bare meat. You couldn't help but take a bite. Crisp. Sweet. Ripened. Mr. Snowhiteman, You were so hungry you left her fair meat bruised. Her skin was peeled off of her, And her innocence harvested.

13

It's teeth gouge through the gloss of my eyes, I hang there from my skull, Heavy footed soaked from its saliva Spine dripping from my back, I am silent. It hunches over me, The humidity from its pores summon the hairs on my body to arise, Awakens domes erupting from my skin, I am no longer human, but its apprentice. It is strong. Hovering, Ready to showe me a different phase of my future death. I pinch myself to rip skin away from a bad bond, I am sweating and whimpering in fetal position on the sidewalk.

0

Jul 17, 2015

Jul 17, 2015 at 11:17 AM UTC

Every 10 seconds

It's teeth gouge through the gloss of my eyes, I hang there from my skull, Heavy footed soaked from its saliva Spine dripping from my back, I am silent. It hunches over me, The humidity from its pores summon the hairs on my body to arise, Awakens domes erupting from my skin, I am no longer human, but its apprentice. It is strong. Hovering, Ready to showe me a different phase of my future death. I pinch myself to rip skin away from a bad bond, I am sweating and whimpering in fetal position on the sidewalk.

14

Someone who makes me feel like I matter, is worth much more than matter itself.

0

May 21, 2015

May 21, 2015 at 12:28 AM UTC

Matter and Matter