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 Jan 2019 Lexi Fields
nish
his eyes are warm, a hazel brown
upon his head the devil’s crown
hell's fire reveals his true intention
it's why the lord refused his ascension
his lust it flickers, a candle in the storm
mine burns for him, undying, unnerving
he doesn't love me
he never will
but oh he's a man when he grips my thigh
he spreads me open and makes me sigh
asserting dominance he whispers sin
i cry for god but my voice runs thin
he's had his ***** way with me
I'm tainted, ruined, marked and done
he's finished with me, had his fun
yet
sometimes in my wildest dreams
I yearn for him and that wicked gleam.
© M.H

this is an anti-poem, it’s written based off another poem I recently read but completely the opposite.
2018
 Jan 2019 Lexi Fields
Aseel
A walk
 Jan 2019 Lexi Fields
Aseel
I just need to tell someone I want to die, then hold hands and take a walk.
 Jan 2019 Lexi Fields
Addie Kay
She lifts her head to the sky
as if rolling her eyes
and asking God to answer her cries
all in one.
 Dec 2018 Lexi Fields
julianna
Pain
And suffering
And evaporated tears
And razor blades
And laxative teas
And skinny jeans
And diet pills
And angry words
And impulsive decisions
And lies
And bleeding lines
And swollen wrists
And puffy eyes
And long sleeves
And stay-in-bed-all-day days
And avoid-the-crowd-for-days days
And won’t-mind-getting-hit-by-a-car days
And bitten tongues
And sad songs
And bleach shots
And fake Instagram posts
And living through YouTube videos
And fasting
And failing
And then no longer caring
And feeling like it’s all over
And then doing it all over,
All / Over /Again
Trigger warning... This poem is to anyone who has ever been through or is going through any of these things. I know your pain. Although I’ve made a major recovery (anxiety/anorexia/derealization/ depersonalization/panic disorder) and am always getting better, sometimes certain things haunt me. My PM box is always open to those in need of a listening ear or a friend.
Stay strong **
 Dec 2018 Lexi Fields
Megan
My therapist used to say that
I get the flashbacks because
I don't talk about it enough.

But how am I supposed to talk about it
when everyone tells me that my story has been made invalid
by the alcohol in my bloodstream,
and the fact that I laughed about it the next day?

We all have different ways to survive.

How was I supposed to process my emotions the morning after
when I had blood dripping down my legs,
standing in the 6am cold,
because shivering outside without a jacket
was far better than staying in a room with one of my rapists,
and the lingering smell of shame?

I am far too young to feel a pain like this.

A pain so heavy that my entire soul is flattened
by the weight I carry around.

A violation so evil
that I cannot help but leave my body -
it is no longer mine
but a vessel
that carries the blackness of my ache,
my thoughts that turn to ash when I try to say them out loud
and the demons that have possessed me.

Demons born from the three of you.

How can I continue
when I can still feel three pairs of unwanted hands,
      gripping,                                           ­         
hitting,                                        
bruising me                    
all at once?

How can I breathe
when I can still feel six eyes
on the most intimate parts of me,
every vulnerability and weakness?

How can I live
when I still have pieces of you
entangling yourselves around my bones,
suffocating my heart?

I thought that by burying it all deep into myself -
every 'it' that you called me,
every bruise left on my skin,
every single ****** that tore me apart -
encased by my ribcage,
wrapped in skin that you made into paper,
I would be able to carry on.

I created my very own Pandora's box.

But you escaped;
every millilitre of your venom
is combined and coursing through my veins,
poisoning each one of my nerve endings.

I no longer see the same version of myself,
like looking in a broken mirror,
each fragment showing a different flaw, a different shame.
I am not me.

I am full of darkness.
My mind is sick,
I am filled to the brim with hate and anger and inescapable sadness.
You made me into a monster
that leaves fingerprints of acid on everything I touch.

Is there anything worse
than seeing six vitriolic eyes
everywhere I go?

Is there anything worse
than your visits to me when I sleep,
waking up drenched in sweat because of the horror?

Is there anything worse
than feeling a constant lump of anxiety in my throat,
whenever I'm left alone? -
because please
please
please don't feed me to the wolves again!

Is there anything worse
than starving myself because
no-one will ever love me unless I'm thin because
I'm too riddled with trauma?

Is there anything worse
than blaming myself so much
that I started hurting myself again?

No-one ever tells you that trauma lasts forever,
but I'm learning that now.
Because it's been ten months and twenty-two days since
the three of you destroyed me...

And you've been destroying me every day since.
If you've read this to the end, THIS is the destruction caused by **** - stop injustice anywhere you can
I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.
 Dec 2018 Lexi Fields
oni
.
 Dec 2018 Lexi Fields
oni
.
i locked the door,
but even i do not know how to reopen it.
.................................................................­.........................
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......................................................­....................................
Sadly, I've forgotten the melody
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