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Led by only moonlight.
I wander till im lost.

I find myself in a forest
untouched by all but frost.

Its quieter than death itself
I'm afraid to even breathe.
I can feel the eyes upon my back.

I try, but fail to scream.

So lost now, what do I do?
I dont know my left from right.

The darkness seems to compress
I search for a source of light.

I look for any kindness within, the demons surrounding me.
******, vile, hate and rage are all that I can see, so I sit down and hug my knees.


As I pray " please someone find me"
  7d Hawley Anne
Pri
I bite.
Not with teeth.
with silence,
with sharp glances,
with walls built higher than your reach.

I’m not cruel.
I’m just tired
of being kind first
and torn apart second.

You call it attitude.
I call it armor.
Because being soft
never saved me.
It only made the fall hurt more.

So I speak less now.
Agree less.
Trust less.
I pull away before someone has the chance
to walk out first.

It’s not that I don’t want love.
I’ve learned that even “I care about you”
can come with conditions.
Even soft hands
can leave bruises
you can’t see.

I bite
because once,
I didn’t.
And it nearly broke me.
(inspired by Isle of Dogs)
There once was a child with too many things—
a box full of buttons, a bird made of strings,
a hat that belonged to a father now gone,
a watch that still ticked but the hour was wrong.

She carried them all in a bag on her back,
each item a whisper, a worry, a crack.
No room for a coat, no space for a friend—
just memories packed without start, without end.

A pebble from rivers she never walked near,
a note with no sender, a name she held dear.
She lugged it through summers and staggered through snow,
refusing to leave what had once helped her grow.

One day she met someone who carried no sack.
He smiled and said, “You could put some things back.”
She frowned and said, “But these are my keeps.”
He nodded and asked, “And which ones still speak?”

She opened the bag and began to let go—
a feather, a fork, a torn shadow of woe.
Not all, but a few. Just enough to stand tall.
Her back learned to breathe, and she started to fall—

into walking, not dragging. Into days made of now.
The road felt like song. She forgot the old how.
She still kept a key and a small silver bell—
but she learned not all stories are hers to retell.
Hawley Anne Apr 12
Why is it that he insist
to put poison in my mind?
He never quits instead persists
until I question time after time.

Its as if he wants my happiness
but only if it is with him.
If any other were to make me smile,
he'll try to destroy it on a whim

Claiming that it's love he feels
but how could that be true?
When if you truly love someone
you want them happy, even if its not with you.

But that's not what he wants at all,
so he warps and twists my thoughts.
which leaves me scared and questioning
Cuz that is exactly what he wants.

He is poisoning the way I think
about somebody knew
tricking my mind to make me think
that the new guy will hurt me too.

This is not fair or kind or love,
his actions are pure manipulation
yet even knowing all of this,
my thoughts somehow are still all racing,
Hawley Anne Apr 8
I wonder if I could be blamed
for what my choice might be.
Between a man and a bear
and which one I would think may fight fair.

See I'm not to sure I'd need to give it much thought,
I think I'd choose the bear.
Because at least I'd know what came next,
no one expects a bear to fight fair.

A bear would not lie to me,
or first make me fall in love.
And bear would not get me wondering if I were truly nuts.

A bear might rip me limb from limb
but at least when it was done
The bear would not sit there and claim,
that he had done it out of love.

And the bear would not apologize then do it all again.
A bear would never hurt me by hooking up with my friend.

A bear wouldn't lie to me about the intentions that it had.
And a bear wouldn't call me crazy, anytime it made me mad.

The bear would probably **** me yes.
But at least then it would be done.
I wouldn't have to live with the pain, of what the bear had done.

The bear wouldn't play games with my mind.
It would either **** me or not.
But if I were to choose the man,
well I'd be better off to not.

Cuz a bear wouldn't do any of those things,
that I just described.
But I've been with the man who did them,
and it left me barely alive.
Hawley Anne Feb 6
I missed you then
I miss you still.
There isn't much else that I can say.
Do you know the amount of time
my heart has been in pain?

One hundred thirteen thousand eight hundred eighty, give or take.
That's 13 years of hours.
And I finally feel ok.

This poem I've rewritten now
about 20 thousand times.
Struggling with all my might
to figure out the lines.

It seems that I've said everything
that I had to say.
Like how I'm sorry for not giving you,
your hug or kiss that day.
Or how I will forever regret
the one "I love you" I DIDN'T say.

If I could turn back the clock
to the last day I ever saw you,
knowing what I know now
I know just what I would do.

I would give you the biggest hug
I'd ever given to anyone.
And I'd say I love you so many times
like maybe infinite times, plus one.

But I can't go back despite my guilt
and you'll never hug me again.
I'll never get to hear your voice
or introduce another boyfriend.

You wont get to be here
to watch my girls become who they will be.
You also won't be around
for any future milestones for me.
Like if I get clean or get my kids
or if I ever really mature.

I won't get to see you smile
or hear how you knew it all along.
That I would get my girls back.
That I was a good mom

I think I finally have come to terms
with the fact you had to go on.
And I've truely said all I can
so I think this is the last poem.

Please don't think you've left my thoughts,
that's not at all the case.
I just think I've said enough times now
I love you and you're missed.

So I'll leave you with just one more thing,
before I truly let you sleep.
I always have and always will love you.
And in my heart you'll keep

I hope to oneday see you again
And I'll miss you till I die.
So please Rest well uncle Chris,


This is the final Goodbye.
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