My daughter name is Brie Sarita. She used to write poems on here. She passed away Oct 10th 2015. Funny just looked at this site and her last poem was on Oct 10 2014. I just wanted to share
Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 8:14 PM UTC
Corners, crystals. midnight delight. Will this flight get off tonight?
Turning corners on straight *** lines. **** its nice to be out of line.
Turn it up and lets see who blows. Its funny to watch the freak show.
As long as I'm not starring in the one horse show.
I think that's a thoroughbred her to be fed.
You know their the fucken craziest their fucken em bred.
Feed them the lion and they go for the head
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 9:41 PM UTC
Can you see me in moonlight corner?
Will tomorrow be tomorrow?
I will run into the arms of my lover.
Will you catch me before I fall?
No, for I don't know me.
So, you can never be.
The rain pours through open hearts.
I, never full.
I look .... for me.
Petals not open.
Colors never seen... not even to me!
People never be.
I don't see me.
Who am I?
A discolored, discarded rock.
Easily pass.
I live in this mind.
Will, oh will it ever be mine?
Open walks in daylight showers.
Can I be touch, when I don't feel.
Will it ever be real?
Maybe, this is is as real as I get.
I thought,...more.
Yes, more!
Its hard to dig.
I feel damp and cold.
I will never be free in a sea of rocks.
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 9:05 PM UTC
His dog chased her
through the woods.
The rifle can **** from
three-hundred yards.
Watch her leap logs
and sidestep
sticks grabbing
at her shoulders.
There are three Gods
in the woods,
behind any tree.
No one is as ruled
as the lawless.
No one is as sedated
as the frenzied.
Sympathy couldn't be
measured in screams,
but measured
in her breaths.
Beyond the
honeydew horizon,
the senseless cease.
The half-life of eyes:
her only escape.
Where the tree-trunks
are furnished by the
candied corpses.
Her feet chomp at the
prostituted ground.
She will die, here,
whether she lives
or not.
For what is stolen,
stays.
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 9:11 PM UTC
YOU TOOK SOMEONE'S CHILD!
And that child was me. I was a thing a puppet a delight for you now.
I was not to say a word. I was not to think.
Til now ------ Now my story unfolds.
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 7:38 PM UTC
The kids play outside perfectly.
To a world never known.
So, sorry to hear that one day their brain will unfold.
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 7:16 PM UTC
Pretty, I'm pretty.
Sparkles my name used to be tiny dancer.
The bouncer loved me.
But the guys paid money.
I lived with one.
He made me insane.
He said I was used up and would be nothing again.
The bouncer knew until he cared no more.
Another guy came in again and again.
Smiling, stuff I couldn't fucken stand.
I decided I would end my life that night.
That other guy always ask me out.
This time I said yes.
Knowing I was ending my life that night.
I was fine.
Out we went. Home I came.
Pour myself a bath and saw the straight razor.
Started to use it on my wrists.
Door bell rings.
**** he forgot his hat.
He said he had a great night.
With my towel wrap another me and my hands behind my back he reached for a hug and never looked back.
Bathroom bound again.
My ex came home and found me in the bathroom.
He was so ****** about the mess.
You know me bleeding everywhere.
He phoned 911.
Off I went.
After I was stitched up.
And made a ran for the door....out of the ward.
Back I went. I was sent downstairs in the cold unfinished basement to heal.
Buddie kept on phoning me.
I finally got the call.
He said whats going on haven't heard from you in a week.
Strange thing is my jacket on the back had blood on it the night I drop you off.
Told him my story and we were packed up within two days.
We went home as he put it.
Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 11:55 PM UTC
You were here I felt you on the edge of my tips.
Startled by my presence. I became drain.
It's a sickening feeling drowning in your own body.
No, WAIT! I like water but, not this much.
DROWNING ~~~~~~~~
I walk with my eyes close tight.
It's somewhat comforting knowing I don't see.
From time to time I hear the rattling of my bones.
**** get it together.
But, the voices won't leave me alone.
The voices are all from me and sometimes from other's.
Shut the **** up and just leave me alone!
Clean Slate ; Clean Slate.
No! Replay Replay....
Can I go back?
A laughter I hear alone.
Mainly I see the concrete below.
I look up once in a while and see the birds they bother me.
The doorbell rings it time for below.
Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 11:16 PM UTC
It's been said that TIME heals all wounds. But, does it?
I don't think so. The proper answer is distance.
If you were put back into that TIME and space.
Would you not feel that presence of pain?
Yes you would. Why? Because you are in that time.
All of the commotion, isolation, fear, worry.
Whatever; that agony was for you.
Would be present and, RAW.
It is DISTANCE from the actual event that will produce healing..
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 6:15 PM UTC
Don't say words in midnight silence.
For a bird like me might become a crow and pick at your heart and eat your soul. I don't mean to be built this way. But, you came to me in a off day. Okay its true. I'm ******* off everyday but, I try to be true. No that's a lie. Its all lie's. Just get away. Its best for both. Cause, you know I will.......no you don't know! You don't ******* know me. To be real. I've been played before. I don't even trust my sister next door. We don't have a chance. See,.. I trust no one. Not even myself. Its best you stay away, until you feel no more. In fact get the **** out.
I once dreamed about a guy like you. But I'm damage goods.
I will never be . I will never see. I will never be free. I will never be once more. Sure its look good in the out. But,I 'm a girl that will never be without.
So, I'm doing you a favor when I say get the **** out.
Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 10:55 PM UTC