Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
means to deny my past tormenters
and to live authentically as a gay woman.
Her ashes were scattered
Among the debris of her past.
She became an illusion
Of her darkest fears.
Unable to break free
From the voices
That held her captive
She watched her soul
Slip into the realm
Of nonexistence.
Too often we stay stuck living in the past, fixating our thoughts on what happen ed to us when we were younger. If left there too long, we die.
blackbiird Sep 2020
Beneath the garden
shed, her bones bleed
Without much notice of
decay.

Smells of rotten garbage
Permeated the building
Of her demise
Without much notice of
isolation.

Souless, lifeless carcass
Becomes her as she loses
Unconsciousness beneath the
Rotting soil.

And the malevolence
Took over.
blackbiird Aug 2020

Even a tortured soul
needs a place to cry.
I’m so glad
That you’re my
place.

blackbiird Apr 2020

for the make-believe
world you spun around me
infected with webs of lies,
seeping with the decay
of our own insecurities.

yet the sad thing
is I believed you were
my beautiful Guardian
Angel dressed as Satan.

blackbiird Feb 2020
she is the sun
and he's her world
spinning ever so slowly
until she warms every
Fiber of his being.
blackbiird Jan 2020

i am
not
a box
where
you
can
confine
the broken
pieces
of my heart
as if
it was still
whole.

i cannot
repair
what
you irrevocably
broke
with
your deceitful
and lustful
eyes.

i am not
a box
where you
can place
your demons
anytime
it is convenient
leaving me
with the burden
of carrying their voices
inside my head.

i am
not your puppet
and you
are not
my master.

Next page