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Sarah Elizabeth Sep 2017
Her soul is wilting
Wilting
A word she knows all to well
All of her plants have started wilting long ago
How can you keep something else alive
When you're barely living yourself
Her leaves
Are crumbling
Split ends like spilt branches
He says:
"Your hair
Is only as good
As the head its growing on
And and your head
Isn't doing so well itself
How can you expect anything beautiful to grow from so much darkness.
Trees
Don't grow in the dark."
She
Tries to get her thoughts out of the Dark
The midnight abyss she calls her mind
But she
Has never been good at climbing
Cliff faces
look down
and laugh at her attempt to ascend
She
Pretends like she can't see them staring
Arms growing weak and weary
Her roots
Feel as if they're about to break
But she never gets a break
Never gets to rest
She's stressed
who would have guessed
That Behind
her Big smile
Lies
Wilting leaves
Split branches
And broken roots
Ready to fall apart
No one seems to see
That the only thing
Keeping her together
And Grounded
Is the ground itself
And even that
Is only as stable
As the world its sitting on.
This is a possible piece for my schools poetry jam so constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!
Sarah Elizabeth Sep 2017
Standing behind a friend I used to have
Wanting to make conversation
But I can't
Not quite
Able to
Open my mouth
Not quite
Able to
Make my tongue form letters
From a suddenly foreign language I can't seem to figure out
English
Is somehow my best subject
But speaking
Only serves
To be the most difficult skill
I have yet to learn
Sarah Elizabeth Sep 2017
The garden of Eden is no place for fools, but you somehow made your way in
Every step tainting the very ground you walk on, every touch turning flowers and trees to stone
If only you left this place alone
My home
My sanctuary
Is not for you to own
Yet you still weild a trowel and rip up all that I have honed
But what you don't know
Is that I am not helpless
Just because you are destructive doesn't mean I can help myself less
Less than, is all you see me as
Not realizing that I'm more than just a piece of ***
Take a step back
And look at the mess you think you've made
Invading the beautiful glade I call my own
A garden now made of stone
Cold and heartless regardless of the sun shining down
Turns out that sun is now covered by rain clouds
Thunder booming loud
Turn around
See the rain pouring, hear its sound,
Are you proud?
Of all that you have done
You, a hurricane, just having a little fun
But now its time for you to run
Tracking mud over the path of which you came from
But little do you know
That one day you will atone
And that one day
This garden, now of stone
Will, over time, be eroded by the rain
And will return to the mud you have created
Left to regrow, on its own, once again.
Sarah Elizabeth Sep 2017
She
Refuses to comprehend
How he
can misunderstand
Misread
Maybe he was misled by her signals
But he
Has gone too far
Too far
She supposes, to him, means too far to stop
Too far to take his hands off
Her top
Once on her now lays on the cold ground
If you look closely, you just might find her dignity lying next to it
Her shorts
Lost underneath the covers
Just like her muffled objections
Her bra
Is unhooked
By the hands that used to comfort her
The same hands
Have become a merciless vice
Locked around her, with no key to undo them but his own will
Her lips
Are smothered by his own
Every kiss a death sentence silencing every sentence she tries to speak
The only sound to be heard are the cries of her limbs
Screaming to get away from him
But they
Are never heard
Their words falling on deaf ears as he pushes her to the breaking point
until the word "no" stops filling her lungs until the word "stop" no longer passes her lips
until the word "please" is taken as a yes, and not as a plead for help
She could use some help
As she lies there wondering how she got in this situation in the first place

— The End —