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Cat Fiske May 2015
I shed,
Like petals,
That floated to the hard earth,
And was called words,
That dug in,
Deeper then the deepest,
Of thorns,
Because roses hold,
the beauty,
But shield the pain,
In vines like veins,
We see there stronger,
Then the delicate outlines,
We have been accustomed to,

But one thing,
He didn't care to notice,
Her eyes were not blue,
Like the violets,
Her eyes were a brown,
Of coffee stains,
And Bibles,
Where words really did hurt,
Because they oppressed,
Telling us it's okay,
To be different,
If we separate the blue eyed,
From the browned,
But him not noticing,
The color of her eyes,
Is like as if Ah wanted him,
And every man to point out,
That they had different colors,
Of skin,
That he thought,
they were example enough,
Of how these word and names,
Hurt,
But will not be,
A belief ,

For roses are red as violets blue,
And I may love you,
But you have be stabbed,
Bleed red blood,
By hateful names,
Because brown eyes,
aren't blue,
But I still loved you.
A redo of those famous words
2.1k · Apr 2015
false charm, in demise
Cat Fiske Apr 2015
you and me,
we though we were in love you see,
you took me,

as my incense was leaving with every step,
and every breath,
and every beat in my chest,

we step inside
your garage became your demise
and you became a beast when you felt deprived

as beast you were,
you made my mind a blur,
and I hate you for this Sir,

Formal terms is all I can give you,
to a man who wanted me just to *****,
you put me through it all just for it to rain blue,

you led me into your garage,
demanded I started to give your **** a massage,
but I didn't engage,

that's when you grab my wrists,
and tried hitting me with your weak fists,
and that's when I didn't wanna exist,

But hitting me wasn't enough,
you sat on me and lifted my dress off thinking you were hot stuff,
and what you saw made me tougher,

You saw my head to toe in the ****,
I laid back while you viewed,
you looking at my body you didn't think would include,
scars that looked liked bad tattoos,

and i cried more and more,
he just asked me what these are supposed to account for,
And i had nothing to say even from everything with before,

he grabbed me in his arms,
and promised me he'd protect me from harm,
like that I fell into his charm,

as he wiped my eyes
he kissed me everywhere with his lies,
everywhere I told myself with my lighter I wanted to die,

this is when he undressed,
when he go to my level last thing I saw of him was his chest,
then he grabbed my *******,
and I felt like he molested me,

but I never stopped him,
throughout he was grim,
and didn't stop till he hit my brim,

and how I though this was okay,
and every day since I pray,
because of how I wish I stayed

so I pray to stay away,
because they can'r pay me enough to go back and decay,
but part of me still loves him and if it were to be that way,
I'd go back and stay,
on some-days,
37: Talk about someone you thought you were in love with.
2.1k · May 2015
Tissue Box Boy
Cat Fiske May 2015
My love for him,
Is greater then,
my love for myself,

He has wiped away tears,
Shed for the past year,
I name him tissue box boy,

Because of you can sit,
And here all my ****,
Your a used tissue,

But I love you,
But I can't *******,
Pull out your Kleenex now,

Because of a guy,
Who did things to me,
You let me cry,
on your shoulder,

Because you tell me he was,
Wrong and always will be,
And I sniffle more,

Because you hold me,
When I need it and it's a lot,
And I wet your shirt,

Because you don't care,
I may never *******,
And you may cry now too,

But you don't need that,
To love me,
And I stop crying for a minute,

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry,
And you just love me,
And hold me,

Because love isn't about,
Physicalness it's love,
And with that,
You reply your empty box,
For next time.
Tissue box boy.
A little poem
2.1k · May 2015
Lovable
Cat Fiske May 2015
She fears that he is broken.

What he did to her did not break them.
What he did only cut her;
deeply,
scarring,
stinging for years afterward but not forever.

He is afraid he will be alone,
but he doesn’t know,
that people who burn inside,
people with scars that no one can see,
are loved by those,
who are meant to love them.

He has lost the hope that people are waiting to love him as desperately as he is waiting to be loved.

But they are.


They will not think,
that he needs to be fixed,
or that what he goes through,
is too much for them to handle.

They will never see him as too weird,
or a burden to love.

They will only see his smart,
talented,
quirky,
beautiful self.

They will not see any other him that he is afraid of being.

They will love him.

he will be loved.

He is lovable.

I know because I love him.
My rant about a boy I love.
2.1k · May 2015
An Infinity of Changes.
Cat Fiske May 2015
Things have been
changing, everyday, so its
no wonder, we didn't stay the same,
it's been years since we've been close, and
every time I just happen to run into you, you're
not the same person, who was that person then, you
have built bridges, that you have seem to cross, and
I just seem, to jump off, but the fact of the matter
is, you and I, have changed so much,
we're not the same anymore,
We have tried to
grow up,*
like a child,
stealing her
mother's red lipstick,
we are painted red, but
your red, is a red of beauty
and love, and mine is of blood,
lust and honest disgust, we
have chosen different paths,
and we walk circles
*in the woods,
trying to get to
the center of infinity as
if we can meet again, in the center
paths limbo of the happy end you walk & sad
one I walk, So when we meet in the center, and we
never cross paths, and never talk long enough to hear
each other's life stories, we just end up walking in
that never ending circle, and as we circle; life
hits us with things, some good; some
bad, but for 3.14% of the time
it's as simple as pi to
get through it.
Just a poem about change and how we don't see it on us but on others.
2.0k · Oct 2015
do you hate me?
Cat Fiske Oct 2015
I ate a whole thing of oreos in front of you,
and then,
*I ate another.
i am thinking he does hate me or is repulsed.
2.0k · Apr 2015
Third Degree
Cat Fiske Apr 2015
why do I hurt myself?
Because no one should insult me,
about my imperfections,
But me.
So this is my way of giving them the third degree,
on my flesh.
just a little something ive been keeping in my head, havnt used it ever, and I dont wanna forget it either, you know.
1.9k · Apr 2015
Wrists Like Tree Bark
Cat Fiske Apr 2015
And though,
Her scars healed,
they left rough,
tough,
scar tissue,
wear she was once weak,

And he ran his hands over them,
Kissed them,
And told me I reminded him of the trees,
The kind of tree's to beautiful to cut down,
or carve your name into.

And he told me how,
the Trees kept him rooted down,
and helped the wind wispier,
Mother natures secrets in his ear,

Telling him,
To tell me,
He was standing there
with the most beautiful Tree out there,
Among the all the Trees in the forest,
and he was too lucky,
to have me.

Thats when my tree bark arms,
went around his rope burnt neck,
and for the first time,
we both felt,
like our jungle of emotions,
was as calm as the forest the surrounded us,

I had the wrist like tree bark,
and he and the trees,
had tried to carry him,
with a badly tied rope.

My tree bark didn't let him hang.
the trees knew better,
he needed to stay rooted.
This is just supposed to be a cute little story about two people who are helping each other recover though there attempt in self injury and suicide. I used nature as the medium for this story.
1.9k · Aug 2015
schedule
Cat Fiske Aug 2015
the order,
the routine,
the rules,
the reasons I want to skip class,
the reasons I do,
the reasons I get detentions,
the reasons I never show,
the schedule,
the lack of order,
the up,
the back down?
the back up then down again but across the school on top of it!
the swimming pool,
the ******* swimming pool,
the **** no I'm not swimming,
the I won't make it to math class.
the guidance office,
the guidance counselor,
the guidance counselor who says she hopes she's not taking up my time,
the period is my lunch,
the location i'm in,
the guidance office,
the problem,
the fact its every monday wednesday and friday,
the fact I may wanna eat,
the fact I wanna see my friends,
the fact you're taking my little social life away,
the bell rings,
the ring is the most joyful irritating noise I hear all day,
the fact I forgot about the freshman for a second,
the ring is the second irritating noise I hear all day.
the next class is science,
the fact your required appointment runs too long,
the fact your class is so far away,
the fact you have a minute rather than five to get there,
the fact you don't make it halfway before the bell rings,
the fact you start crying because you are late for class,
the fact your life is over,
the fact you duck into the bathroom,
the sticky doors are of no concern right now,
the bathroom stalls are all empty,
the middle one you claim and you sit,
the floor you sit, you cry, try to be silent,
the effort to breath, trying not to have a full on panic attack,
the things going on in your head,
the dread pours in,
the anxiety levels rushes in.
the thoughts poor in and spill even when its over flown,
the fact you call your mom,
the fact she gets you off the floor,
the fact she reminds you,
the fact you have to touch that sticky door,
the door you touched once before,
the hand you touch the door with you used to wipe tears with,
the sly way to open the door,
the silence you make,
the bent down head,
the quite,
the trying to act normal,
the nothings going on trip,
the way to the main office,
the fact you on the phone in the hallway,
the fact you made it to the office,
the fact the principal wants to see you,
the fact you start explaining what happened,
the schedule,
the wrongs,
the wrongs they caused,
the people they put in classes to embarrass you,
the abuse the teachers gave you,
the list rambled on and on,
the fact he yelled at you,
the fact he said you were not being respectful,
the fact this school never gave you respect,
the fact they took everything you had left,
the fact he continued to yell til the office ladys got up
the ladys got up,
the people flocked to the door,
the principal went silent,
the fact you still continued to cry,
the fact he acted as if nothing happened,
the fact he tried to say he was gonna fix it all,
the fact you both knew nothing was going to happen,
the fact you both were right,
the fact once you parted ways you were then greeted with a call down,
the fact someone sent you to the nurse,
the walk was the best part,
the pondering of what its for, allergies, medication information?
the arrival is shocking to you,
the nurse greets you and leads you,
the small room you cornered into,
the place where she asks to view you,
the places on your body like your arms,
the fact she implies other places could be searched
the next time
the fact you now know this will happen again,
the fact you having an anxiety attack,
the fact you wanted to say no,
the fact you know if you did,
the next act they'd do is send you to the hospital,
the scare tactics is not fair,
the fact you go home,
the fact you cry,
the fact you don't wanna go back to this place,
the fact they won't let you transfer,
the fact you have done all you could of done.
the fact that they still have the nerve to of ****** up your schedule.
2 events that happened to days after each other combined, so its a bit exaggerated, but it's all true things, except it happened on two different days not the same.
1.9k · May 2016
Vermilion
Cat Fiske May 2016
I wake in a rusted copper red stained bed,
and focus my gaze though the window ahead,
to see the sun rise in a  crimson, flame, flush, shade of glow,
the view reflected in my eyes seem burnt, but cold and slow,
I see rose red flowers in the meadow,
and the shine of a rainbow,
the sea of dark pastels in a strawberry sky,
the cardinals fly,
and as I change my sight to the inside,
the fluttering spotted ladybug try to hide,
I get up and walk across the maroon hard wood floor,
until my feet finally reach the bathroom door,
and I reach a sad sight inside the white room,
the seen is diluted and blank to the view,
I raise my body in fists of hateful recklessness,
and crash my ****** fists into the mirror in elegance,
and helplessly the glass reflections fall to the floor,
and cuts me until my blood flows to the door,
the spotted ladybug hiding on the ground,
couldn't escape the fateful death as it drowned,
and I collapsed next to the bug,
and soaked my skin into the ****** rug.
and I waked to find a sea of vermilion,
acting like a chameleon,
as it laid in pools across my pale bare floors,
as something to large like a corps to ignore.
Vermilion red in my eyes,
Vermilion red stuck in my mind,
Vermilion red lives until I leave for the sky.
Cat Fiske Apr 2015
-------


Some say,

you can’t,

judge a book,

by its cover.



I say,

open

the book

and study

the pages

First.
just a word of advice
1.8k · May 2015
Advice [10w]
Cat Fiske May 2015
don't hand in,
anything  
ever written,
during a* **panic attack.
you will be sent to guidance,
1.7k · May 2015
He can get away with it.
Cat Fiske May 2015
this whole year I have talked to girls in my school,
girls
who wouldn't do things together,
even come together or even talk,

but now were talking,
we've talked,

because the school has lied to us about all these little boy's ****,
and how the boys are allowed to bruise our body's,
steel our souls like it's a game,

why was he allowed?
to get away with it,

because the school and policemen played this game like ****** fools,
and they too encouraged the assault and abuse,
to girls in the hall, or walking to school up the street,

even to girls in cafeterias,
afterschool,

were perfumes of pretty girls were stolen by high school boys,
as they laid on cafeteria floors,
the only scent left was the old lunchroom food stench,

and the high school boy's,
***** *** sweat,

but you belived closeing the doors to the lunchroom,
afterhours,
will stop future harm,

but closeing a door,
wont give a **** victim closer,

espesally when the game continues,
and the odds are stacked up against the women,
where to walk from class to class,

becomes a danger,
and a threat,

because girls who I go to school with have stopped wearing,
that **** red dress,
or tub tops, cutshirts, short shorts,

anything that,
could get you hurt,

because the girls who I go to school with have to wear,
there daddys sweatshirt and sweatpants,
covering
their whole body's while trying to say,

"Im not ****,"
"Don't pick me,"


they are screaming their hopes,
of "Don't Pick Me's" because of the game,
the game of slapping *****,

in the man packs of fives,
to the one girl trying to get to her next class by herself,

the school grounds are no longer a place that's safe,
where you have to know every corner that has a missing camera,
or one turned off,

or if the man pack pull you into the bathroom,
and take off your top,

you're going to be the one,
who gets the book thrown at them,
because the five boys,

pulled the one of you,
into the boys bathroom,

and it doesn't matter why,
or how you got there,
cause school doesn't care,

tells you that you are wrong,
and it's all your fault,

and the five to pull you in,
walk around the school all day,
getting talked up,

like they rolled snake eyes on a pair of six's,
as your stuck like a prisoner in the office trying almost begging,

for some sort of justice,
and every time you talk,
there replys make you feel like a ****,

but you just want to call your mom,
and they wont let you,

so you have to sit and wait, and,
you don't remember if they took your picture & got it with your face,
but you can remember each and everyone of there faces,

like there the only faces a blind person will ever see,
as if there horrible image can't get away from you,

you try,
because you should only see beauty,
though blind eyes,

and your eyes have been scorned,
because five boys tore one girls shirt,

and these boys play the game,
the game of ****, and let me take her picture without her consent,
but that's not even all their rules,

because if they don't do that to you,
they publicly shame you,

they come up to you,
slap your *** so hard,
you instantly see a bruise,

and you have to tell your mother when you get home,
and she has to take pictures of it,

take you to the police station,
where they tell you,
the school should of just handled it,

and in a town so ******* worried about pills,
and drugs,

maybe they should worry about the game they taught their sons,
because the girls may pop pills and drink underanged,
but does that give a man an excuse,

to commit a ****?
and I know it's not just the girls who suffer the most,

I feel though it all,
the guys who have gotten the worse treatment,
kept what happened hidden,

because girls are smart,
and we know all the men got away with it,

so if one or two girls wanna **** a dude,
you think our police or school will do **** for the dudes too?
if anything they'd get publicly shamed,

and what high school boy wants that,
when they were taught to play a game,

and someone,
played the same ****,
**on them.
a bunch of girls keep getting harassed like this. all of this is true sadly this is based on true stuff, none happened to me like this, but I had my phone stolen and the school handled it the same way, and I've been *****, so I'm a support person for people at school, and I try to help them get though it, and make sure they get a police report filed even though they tell them and there parents they don't need too. and try to give them my best support emotionally. Its tough, but we can all get though things, but other things need to change, and yeah I have talked to guys who have been *****, but they didn't do anything.
1.7k · Jun 2015
Moth be like the Butterfly's
Cat Fiske Jun 2015
____________________­____________________

D­o you see a shattered girl,
because I've been trying to tell you people all year,


I'm dying here,

like maybe I was flying around to start with,
but on the inside I'm nothing more then a Moth,


and you expect me to do the things butterfly's can do,

when I can't do more then attempt to mimic there actions,
Following far behind while all the butterfly's migrate,


but I can be miles away from my lover & still smell him from all this way,

because I'm stuck behind butterfly's,
trying to find my way to a better home,


and I will never get to a home where I can be excepted,

every place I get to I am to be greeted with fly swatters,
when butterfly's get loving fingertips to land on as if they were tired,


like they had to run from there death like me,

and everyday I fight for my life,
and the butterfly's live theirs carelessly,


so maybe I can dress in the outer shells of butterfly's that once were,

become the thing all people wanted me to be,
stop smelling my lover from miles the part us,


and let the world control me,

But even when I've given everything I've had,
In, to this ****** idea of a plan of normalcy,


just now you decide to say there may in fact be something wrong with me.

and that when I cut my wing on rose bushes,
so maybe I can feel something better then what you've done to me,


and you try to help me months almost a year after when I am close to death,

by killing me three weeks,
before my life span is up,


**tell me why butterfly's got it so good and moths gotta have it so rough?
just what I feel right now
1.7k · Apr 2015
Feminist views
Cat Fiske Apr 2015
Only Believing,
Men **** Women,
When,
Women **** Men Too.
my views on how MOST not ALL feminist think about ****, I know plenty of guy who got ***** and feel that its there fault, no one wants to get *****, but because men are always to blame they feel responsible.
I also hope this helps someone. c:
don't **** when you can just hug and touch butts instead of ******.
1.7k · May 2015
Fix Conflicts [10w]
Cat Fiske May 2015
maybe we had nothing broken to fix,
except our conflicts,
10 words
1.7k · Nov 2015
you're alone today
Cat Fiske Nov 2015
I cried today
and burned away at my pain,

I hurt myself in a way,
I believed I had once fell in love with,
but soon enough forgotten.

you're simply not here anymore,
I am simply not worth a breath off your lips,
as you sigh,
as if to say,

Sweetie just leave for today,
and don't come back for tomorrow,
or any other day.

Like you wish to of said,
I will leave,
and I don't see myself coming back,

you like others,
have folded outstretched arms,
as you scold me,
as you tell me it's okay for me to be alone today,

I unlike you don't see how,
I can live without you,
I unlike you don't know how,
to keep going on.
sigh..
1.7k · May 2015
Letters to Timothy,
Cat Fiske May 2015
Timothy,
today was supposed to be your birthday,-Dad
Timothy,
I took your place, -Maria
Timothy,
Mommy cried in the kitchen,-MaryAnne
Timothy,
Where have you been?-Mom

Timothy,
we never got to throw,-Dad
Timothy,
My life's such a waste,-Maria
Timothy,
I found your spaceship,-MaryAnne
Timothy,
Where did you go?-Mom

Timothy,
Missed your birthday,-Dad
Timothy,
Never got to use your legs,-Maria
Timothy,
Daddy says it's the farthest you've ever flown,-MaryAnne
Timothy,
I feel alone,-Mom

Timothy,
Missed your photo,-Dad
Timothy,
To walk around this whole big mess,-Maria
Timothy,
We found your spaceship,-MaryAnne
Timothy,
you're not ever going to be alone,-Mom

Timothy,
you never got to uses your head,-Dad
Timothy,
Its not what it seems,-Maria
Timothy,
Did it hurt when you hit the ground?-MaryAnne
Timothy,
I love you babe,-Mom

Timothy,
to find out what this whole world thing meant,-Dad
Timothy,
but it is,-Maria
Timothy,
Where have you been?-MaryAnne
Timothy,
Missed your photo,-Mom

Timothy,
Missed your photos,
Missed your birthday too,-Dad

Timothy,
I took your place,
Life's such a waste,-Maria

Timothy,
We found your spaceship,
Its the farthest you've ever flown,-MaryAnne

Timothy,
I cried in the kitchen to let you go,
Timothy,
Why can't you just come home?-Mom.
About a miscarriage I am most likely to get one if I ever get pregnant, I really want a son, more than daughters when I am older, I am probably going to adopt but I always loved the  name timothy, so I just would love if I had my own kid it name him that, And there are girl names I love, but I really Just don't want a daughter.
1.7k · Jan 2016
Sunday Morning Homily
Cat Fiske Jan 2016
this day was no different than any other,
as we went through the tunnel onto the highway,
I think back to this mornings homily,
how the deacon spoke of this city's cross on the mountain,
I hung onto the rosary beads around my neck,
as if I was still looking for some answers,
and as ignored the smell of exhaust fumes,
as they mixed with the scent of chain smokers,
like a disastrous duo,
and focused my body outside the car window,
clenching my rosary beads I saw the cross on the mountain,
Holding them up the the window,
my cross covered the one on the mountain like it was its lost child.
for five minutes I felt like I had nothing to ask anyone,
I felt like my life was okay,
we drove into another tunnel,
and took a right on the exit ramp,
I never felt more peace in my life,
then I did as we drove home
that night,
it's true.
Cat Fiske May 2015
He had a musical talent others strive to have,
I only wanted to hear him,

hear each finger as they touched the strings,
of his left handed base,

get to sit there and listen to him play,
get to hear him play,

get to maybe learn how to play myself,
or just fool around,

perks of being a lefty too,
but I haven't gotten to hear him play,

he for the time being lives far away,
and when miles don't separate us,

the time will,
the time and effort we can put in to see each other,

to hear each other,
waiting for one another will become a painful task,

every summer day will be hard to last because we just,
will eventually get tired,

the same old waiting game,
gets old fast and quick,

and if I remember correctly the last time we got to be together,
my friend felt the decency to kick,

his sack,
and the fact,

even though I repeatedly asked,
what the hell happened,

he nor she nor anyone really,
told me why,

but he told me every reason he thought could of been why,
and I know he didn't lie when he said he didn't know,

I heard him tell me everything he did know,
and that was more then enough for me to know,

how I wanted to hear him play his base,
and listen to him as I played with his hair,

I wanted him to hold me close,
like its too close for comfort,

the sweet whispers sound like screams,
but nothing's out of a bad dream,

this dream is good and real,
and you can hear and feel everything like you're meant to,

I wanted him to leave his mark,
so i'll never forget where he's been,

so it be easier to remember what he has said,
when he treats me with a respect and grace i've never been given,

and even if he does love someone else,
and I can't love him anymore than puppy love,

would I stop caring?
why would I?

even when romance wasn't on the table,
we were friends,

I wanna hear the echoes and repeats playing sound tracks of friends,
because I know I can't,

have him,
and that I dont even deserve him,

but I still want to hear him play,
his left handed base,

and everyday,
I still miss him,

and hope,
**to hear him play.
about someone I really care about
1.6k · Aug 2015
Push.
Cat Fiske Aug 2015
My grandfather taught me things.
Things I didn't have to learn because I saw someone hooked up to a hospital machine,
But the tiny things that mattered,
Like how you should never play with you fork,
Because you could poke your eye out,
And while we're on the manner of table manners,
His constant hand grabs,
Moving plates and glasses,
Farther and farther in,
For a fear they may fall,
I was so curious of why even now when I'm not as small.
For now I wonder,
Is it so you don't fall,
So you feel safer,
Is this why u always push re plates in,
Have your little problems with everything,
And not afraid to share them with the world,
And try to push them to be perfect,
When you haven't figured out no one is,
I know that you see things in me,
No one else does that I don't even see,
All the potential and this future you constantly go on and on about,
And I think to my self what future,
But you don't give an inch,
And tell me I'm worth something,
That means something to me,
They say you don't chose your family
But I would of chose you still,
Your still going to be old and stubborn,
Like the old folks are,
But your unique in your pushy way,
That wouldn't of honestly made me care about you as much,
If you weren't the way you were,
I love you times every plate you pushed in at dinner,
To ever time you told me to stop playing with my fork when I was eating,
And nothing will change that,
Like nothing should ever change you,
And like you've taught me,
Don't change for anyone but you,
And to push myself to go the distance,
Un edited, staying with my gma and gpa so I figured why not, also why I haven't posted in a while, Ik its ******,
But My cuncussion symptoms have been though the roof latly
1.6k · Apr 2015
tired tongue, young gun.
Cat Fiske Apr 2015
Miss me
Missed me
Now you've got to kiss me.
If you kiss me mister,
I might tell my sister.

If I tell her,
she might tell my mother
and my mother,
she might tell my father

and my father,
he won't be too happy,
he'll have to come up from the city,
And then we both can't be happy,
so I wouldn't miss me,
if you get me, mister see?

Missed me,
miss me now,
If you kiss me,
you must think I'm pretty.

If you think so,
you must want to **** me.
If you **** me,
it must mean you love me.
If you love me,
you would never leave me

it's as simple as can be!
So Mister, now you've got to kiss me.
If you miss me, mister,
why do you keep leaving me?

if you trick me,
I will make you suffer,
and they'll get you,
mister,

put you in the slammer
and forget you,
then you'll miss me won't you,
miss me?

Missed me, missed me,
now you've got no chance to kiss me.
if you kissed me,
mister, take responsibility.

I'm fragile,
mister, just like any girl would be
so misunderstood
so treat me good,
so treat me delicately.

Missed...
now you've gone and done it,
hope you're happy in the county penitentiary
it serves you right for kissing little girls,

but I will visit,
if you miss me.
Say you miss me!

How's the food?
they "feed" you?

Do you miss me?
Will you kiss me,
through the window?

Will they ever let you go?
I miss you mister,
so....
I stole these words from the song Miss Me by the Dresden Dolls, ill post a link to hear the song and to read the actual words, the song can be inturperated many ways, mainly its made to be told as the dads friend or family friend is ****** this little girl, but later on she still love him. but the girl is bi polar though the whole song, so I made it as if she was dating an older man, kept it hidden from her parents, he broke her heart, and got him locked up. I felt I did justice to the song. I hope you like it. x.x its kinda creepy with the piano background. https://youtu.be/16lzIa-CQi8
1.6k · Apr 2015
Perception, the Lack Of.
Cat Fiske Apr 2015
I,
Struggle,
Day to day,
To,
Fit in,
Eat publicly,
Pay attention,
Keep my focus,
Live in this house,
Live at all,
But,

My,
Friends,
Struggle,
To,
Respect,
That I am another intellect,
That I want to be correct,
But,
They tell me,
Its something I'll never be,
And too see,
I''m a defect.  
Then,

My,
Teacher,
Struggles
To,
Understand,
Lunch is used by me,
to get my extra help I need,
That I'm not Bullshitting,
When I say I want to,
Succeed,
So Lunch,
Is used by me,
To bleed,
While you sit and read,
Claiming I miss read,
into what you just said,
So then,

My,
Mom,                          
And my,
                              Daddy,
Fight,
Hating everything wrong with me,
A daughter who couldn't of been born,
Paralyzed physically,
But Mentally,
Is causing them both to verbally,
Abuse each other consistently,
But,

We,
Still,
Go to Church every Sunday,
As a Family,
And Believe in a God,
Not Everyone does,
Because not everyone can See what he has done,
And then we come Home,
And the fights Continue,
And no one wants to be Home,
Because like God,
People don't want to Believe,
In a Thing they cannot See,
So,

I'll,
Have to,
Keep going on,
Letting the world kick me when I'm Down,
Because I've been down forever,
And no one wants me,
To come up,
just enough,
To feel strong and safe,
in this world of hate,
where our perception,
out weighs the truth,
The reality,
and the well being,
Of innocent,
little girls,
Who'd rather die most days,
then live,
because of a lack of,
perception.
This is just a little poem about perception, that ties into my life.
1.6k · Aug 2015
Loving a Friend
Cat Fiske Aug 2015
I love you,
thats what you told me,

and I know you didn't mean it like that,
I know what it meant,

and I'm happy,
I'm happy,

I rarely say that,
I didn't think I would,

I blindedly handed you all my trust,
I didn't expect anything good to come out of this,

and I love you too,
the same kind of love,

you love me with,
thank you,
this is old, really old, about when I was first becoming friends with this guy, and I was having problems trusting men at all after the **** that had happened the year prior, and now hes become my best friend and one of the few people I trust,
1.5k · Jul 2016
Effort
Cat Fiske Jul 2016
I went off my medication,
and went up a few sizes,
sometimes you lose the effort to try,

but when the effort returns,
maybe it will be ignored,
til a more promising day.
1.5k · Jan 2016
Magic Wands
Cat Fiske Jan 2016
If I could wave a magic wand,
as if to wave away everything to becalmed,
would you, would I,
look up at the sky,
and tell me if you can see,
if you cannot we still aren't free,
as the sky has taken overview, over us,
we must learn to love ourselves, **** it up,
and not fall down, but rise up.
we all must stop trying to play with magic,
and get our heads out of such tactics,
but uses our mind,
to lead our souls less blind,
than wands won't matter,
no matter how big a disaster.
idk a poem
1.5k · May 2015
alone in pairs
Cat Fiske May 2015
and in the world of unknown,
the boy sat alone,

he was so much on his own,
and he wanted a friend so bad he was willing to make a clone,

and he thought more about making a friend in his mind,
because he didn't know his own cline,

and when he saw her,
chills went up his chine,

she made jaws drop,
and sweaty chins,

and you imaging what her love was like,
like raw sugar cains,

and you give me so many pains,
in all my veins as you come closer,

are you walking to me? does someone care?
do you want to stop being alone and be like, umm... **pairs?
I used the words from a word ladder go figure
1.5k · Aug 2015
second place poem.
Cat Fiske Aug 2015
my second most read poem.
recording over 1000 reads.
with 0 likes,
in 3 collections I added it too.

the title.
is the reason there are no likes,
and the fact someone can't like a poem about *******,

when I talk about how they had lost their respect,
compared to any girl out there,

makes me feel less and less confident about the fact,
someone acted on my body like that,

for someone to be not only ***** but then physically abused,
and trying to spread the news

to show you what it does to a girl,
how gross you feel to look at yourself when ur mom wants to hurl,

where u lie when people ask you about your burn,
because you feel the torture will come back.

where you let anyone grab them.
because your blessed with triple D cups,

and at least you feel like you're not worthless,
and  because I named it grab my *****,
I dont Care,
I got no likes,

Like a boy gave my body,
No respect,

I think thats as fair to say as what he did to me,
as it's as fair to know I have a little over 800 views on the poem below,
and 20 likes.
about trauma too.
I don't get how this all adds up,

I got poems written about the same exact thing,
with 2, 3, 4 likes, not even 400 views some barley 200!
all about being ***** and abused,
but how come this one,
had been ignored,
and overlooked,
a ******* name,

thats cowardly
like a ******,
like an abuser,
were not one person could give someone respect after it was all taken from them,
and they wrote about it.
I just..
I ranted and I cut myself off, I am not looking for likes, but not even a comment, or message was the point I was trying to make, and it was really hard for me to post that, and I feel disrespected by who ever read it, and I feel bad for everyone else who has had the same thing happen to them. just where they can't get anyone to give them an ounce of respect.  and Again its not about getting likes, its the content, that I just feel got over looked due to a title and that upsets me alot.
Cat Fiske May 2015
I wrote words
To try and bandage
The broken things.
Things like the mind and soul and hearts,
Of angels that fell apart and wings have given out,
I let the broken wing do its thing,
You can't fix a Devil in disguise,
With words acting like tape and bandages,
And your devil commanded wings
Flew you down corridors of sorrow,
And classroom bullies of depression,
And those heart palpitations,
Was your chest trying to protect you from within,
Not telling you to let the devil in and steal your soul for a mere sanity,
Your not as insane as they come,
Devils and Angels all are one as the same hand,
They have bend dealt and handed out a loaded gun,
And what they chose to do with the gun,
To put it to your temple,
Or to there's over an over again,
Is all in the free will and mind a god from above gave man kind,
The freedom of free mind and thought,
But why are we blind?
We have the right to things other animals have there rights stripped from,
And we do that to other countries, people, and ourselves,
Like a god wrote a bible that is lines in the game telephone,
passed on like dropped calls that still got the message with the little details missing.
Because it was a story to teach you something,
To help you get through a hard time,
But instead we use gods gifts to oppress those around us,
And those around us,
Use it to oppress us,
So my words try to act like bandages,
Like gods did,
But even God couldn't fix the broken things,
because God made the world and left the broken things,
while he rested on the 7th day,
when he could of fixed things.
what would he of changed?
Poem about the bible and gid and stuff
1.5k · May 2015
Mute [10w]
Cat Fiske May 2015
write about Silence,
and the things people don't ever say,
Silence
1.4k · Dec 2015
unwanted
Cat Fiske Dec 2015
I feel like i'm toxic to the touch
when I felt and tried to return the love you gave me,

turning not to thank me,
as I reach out to grab you,

you walked away,
as I watched and cried,

I retrace each step you take,
my tears falling so fast they fill your footprints place,

drawing what ever may live in your souls,
as you stepped and went away,

eventually the night falls,
and I am left in the darkness, alone,

without you,
without anyone to care,

I sit unwanted,
hoping you will care.
Unwanted, I wrote this after Several day of depression,
Cat Fiske May 2015
Somedays I'm always happy,
Somedays I'll be nothing close to that,
And sometimes,
I'm going to have those days,
where if my papers are not in order,
fixing them is not an option,
and I wanna **** myself.

Who wants to hang out,
with a girl like that?
Where anything,
and everything,
could set her off,

Sometimes I wish,
you could say,
what you really feel,
about me,
to my face,
But instead it's around me,
And I'm known to imagine things,
But I really do think it's there,

And I'm more then,
a Couple lose ends,
Somedays I'm sewed together,
like a new doll,
But most,
I'm the old one,
you have had for years,
in the back of your room,
Never to be used again,
And the fact,
I'm not good enough for you,
I can't get over it,

And Somedays,
I wanna die,
trying to make everyone happy.
But I won't,
and I can't,
And you know,
what's really sad,
You never try to help me,
You never wanted me in your life,
I've been used so much,
I'm used to it,

And I wish it was funny,
But it's not,
And the two people I like,
will never know I like them,
And I honestly,
just want someone to hold me,
tightly and show me,
they love me,
But no one wants to hold me,
No one wants to love me,
I should know that by now,

Sad to think my third grade year,
is better then this,
A third grade year,
when I tried to **** myself,
or hurt myself enough,
to get out of school,
And sorry guys I'm learning ,

I've been self harming,
since third grade,
I've done it right there,
in front of you,
I would pull my own teeth out,
Not eat so I could get a head ach,
and go to the nurse,
or look sick enough to,
I would find relief,
in the kindergarten artwork,
in the nurses office,
But then I didn't know how to talk,
I would write down,
"I don't feel well,"
just about everyday,
Or stick out a ****** tooth,
and just instantly get allowed,
to leave my classroom,
Kinda sad isn't it,

But you know this year,
would make you cry,
I wish that It was a lie,
But it's not,
Nothing's true anymore,
Just like my relationships,
They all are fake,
And sometimes,
I wanna exit pass,
that will write my goodbyes for me,
But I don't have an exit pass,
And I don't have any good byes,
So I'll take the emergency exit,
from a distances of floors up,
And leap,
and let my tears,
say good bye.

So good bye I guess
I wrote this last year when I was lashing out, I sat on a bridge feet dangling over, I had a friend come find me, and get me down before an officer come and check out the girl reported on the bridge. I can't belive I found this.
1.4k · Jul 2015
Dear, Mom.
Cat Fiske Jul 2015
____________________­____________________

­Mommy,

I know you always try your best,
I try to pass all my tests,
but I can't pass anything but math,

and the problems we have I don't know how to solve,
because I'm working with numbers that don't work in the context of the problem we've been having,

and I'm trying my best each and every day,
to just spell my name correctly,
C-A-T-H-E...what comes next,

I don't remember,
Now I feel dumber than my little brother,
I can't read anything harder then a **** and Jane book,

is this why  at school,
by everyone each and every everyday,
I'm ignored and overlooked,


Mommy,

I never want to see you cry,
and every night I don't see it,
but I hear it,

and I hear you pray for me,
pray for someone to help your child in the ways your not able to,
because you can't always help me,


Mommy,

I know you don't deal with everything very well,
and sometimes when you yell,
it becomes more than shouting,

you and daddy fighting,
yelling about me,
every single day,

I hide in my room and cry,
because when I didn't I worried about getting hit,

for not paying attention,
or my homework,
or doing the things i constantly was told to stop doing,


Mommy,

I couldn't help it half the time,
So I cried when I came home from school,
Because everyone picked on me,

kids beat me up on the bus,
people took my stuff,
and recess and lunch were worse,


Mommy,

they put me in the corner all alone,
because I had allergies,
But everyone just thought I was a bad kid,

Everyone hated me,
No one wanted to play with me or be my friend,
no one could even be nice to me for a minute,


Mommy,

I peed my pants everyday,
two to three times a day too,
because people scared me,

and eventually I out outgrew this,
but my nails disappeared,
as did my voice,


Mommy,

I come home everyday and I cry and scream,
and that's the only noise I ever made,
for all of second grade,

my communion pictures make me cry,
because I look so sick,
at the time I just wanted to die,



Mommy,

I was in third grade,
when I know I had self harm for the first time,
Did it in the middle of class,

and no one said anything to me every time,
I pulled my teeth out,

Or the time I stuck my finger in my pencil sharpener,
closed my eyes and turned,
so my nail came off,

and maybe they would let me get out of that class room,
because every day that year was brutal,


Mommy,

I was still in third grade,
when I stopped eating,
wasn't a hard thing,

with my ADHD diet,
and the thing you never know,
that me and Daddy just keep to ourselfs,


Mommy,

when I fell off my sled,
I really fell off the deck,
and that's how I broke my leg,

Daddy saw me jump,
and I wish he was the one who missed it,
and you had to of seen it,


Mommy,

I didn't wanna live,
that was after my 8th birthday party,
you came and yelled at me in front of my only friend,

and she didn't even go to school with me,
and you chased me around the house yelling,
making her uncomfortable,

I thought I lost all my friends,
I honestly didn't know what I had left,


Mommy,

do you see why no one has ever come over since,
why I stopped having birthday parties,
stopped everyone from being near me,

I only wanted people to treat me well,
I only ever hoped for that,
I never asked for all the pain that I've gone though,


Mommy,

You always told me I was scared of men,
But I've seemed to always have anxiety and Depression,
Since I was a little kid,


Mommy,

I thought a boy loved me,
I opened my heart to another man other than the one who made me,
Loved him more then I loved the god we prayed to every Sunday,


Mommy,

I cried,
The night I let him **** me,
Because I had no where else to go,

Because Home,
Was no ******* home,

because the abuse
became too much to bare,


Mommy,

Look at my scarred body,
I dare you,
Don't try to fix me with your prays,

I don't need you to cry another night over me,
I don't want you to have to go to your mother and cry because of me,
I just want you to see,


Mommy,

Look what the world's done to me,
look what the world's done to your daughter,

from the nail biting, teeth and hair pulling little girl,
who then starved herself & tried to die by jumping and eating peanuts,


Mommy,

I've only gotten worse,
because I've taken up burning,

writing all the hateful things on my,
chest, legs, arms, breast,

Just to scorch my skill off,


Mommy,

I never cut myself till I was in 8th grade when I learned what self harm was,
and I didnt think I was doing it,

I just started talking paper clips and things that scratch the surface of skin,
I didn't ever think it get deeper then the top of skin,

Where I'd see my blood drip out from under paper clip,
I soon used other things to get the job done faster,


Mommy,

just look at my skin,
touch my skin,

do you believe it now?
like they had to do in the bible for Jesus when he returned from the dead,

see i'm as dead as the living dead come


Mommy,

I came back to stay forever,
and not pick up and leave for days,
not telling you where I have been,


Mommy,

every mark was never from you,
It was from those who brought us apart,
trying to take my from you,


Mommy,

every ounce of blood in my body came from you,
you never gave up on me,
even when I have given up on me and you,


Mommy,

I hate this school,
I told you think from day one,
I want the damage they did to be un done,

I want to feel free again,
I wanna feel like I can be happy again,


Mommy,

I haven't been happy for a while,

and even though I have not smiled for years,
in that same time,

I haven't seen yours appear,


Mom,

as the days, weeks, months and years passed,
the steps between us became miles that put u in a heaven leaving me,
under the sea level,

I just was to reconnect,

But things that break can't always be fixed,

so I write you at 16 years old

But


Dear mommy,

I've been trying to reach you since I was 6 years old,

we've lost 10 years of our lives,
because people wanted to make us hate each other,
and fight,

but I will write you one last thing,

my apology can't be worth more than this,


Dear Mother

I love you,
**please believe it
Really old poem I finally am going to post.
1.4k · May 2015
The Pain Givers
Cat Fiske May 2015
I cant drown them they can swim and,
I cannot simply float here much longer, they pull me down under,
only barely leaving my lips ,
touching the air.

and the air above,
is trying to let me breath,
Let me live,
but I can’t,
they wont let me,
they know how to steal the air,
and its almost like,
trying not to drown,
by trying to breath,
even though you know,
you cant breath,
so whats left?
just death?

The pain givers live in me,
they have stolen my heart,
and made it there home,
but that was not enough to stop at,
they get worse and worse,
and spread to the head,
to your brain,
and then in that event,
they go into your blood,
and thought stream,

and The Pain Givers,
travel and travel,
though my body,
and the are in every inch of me now,
and the cause me to hurt myself,
in ways that could really hurt,
if I wasn’t under this spell,

Now I’m scared,
and crazy,
and I cant turn to anyone,
I get so mad in my head,
“the PAIN GIVERS HURT ME!”
I scream in my head,
so no one can hear,
as they make me,
sink this knife into my skin,
now I have to hide,
the damage they did,

Now I act crazy and I stay alone,
who would want to be my friend,
I don’t talk to people any more,
I leave myself alone,
with my pain giver,
all the old name calling,
and broken promises,
stolen hopes and dreams,
and you don’t even have a right,
to say anyone understands,

I have no time to run away,
Part because I’m lazy,
part because I don’t know where to go,
and this sickness outside me,
kills me within,
and you don’t want to see,
the tears I have cried,
I don’t wear make up anymore,
and I carry eye drops,
so I can fix my eyes,
before someone will know.

I was that 14 year old girl,
who was forced to tear down,
her Christmas lights,
and tie myself around the neck,
I wrote a note saying,
my pain givers are hurting me,
mommy are you proud,
look at your child,
but its not your all your fault it,
was also this world of an awful race, now with my hands shaking wild,
I stood up on the chair,
and look down and my feet
and smiled,

then I kicked the chair over,
and took my final breath,
and now I’m just hanging there,
dead and alone,
Saying to the angel,
thank you for answering my preyers,
And getting me out,
But the angel smiles back,
The same smile of my pain giver,
And even in death I still cry,
*** my death will not satisfy me.
Just an old poem about not giving into
Death.
Cat Fiske May 2015
Everyone has those days,
Where they just can seem to pay attention,
Where all they want to do is look out the window.
For me, Its everyday,

Everyday since I could remember misspelling my name at the top of my paper,
That went on till I was in third grade,
Its funny how I can write it so simply now,
And how the spelling of my name,
Used to be the least of my worries.

I remember when I used to jump around all the time,
Not ever being able to calm down,
Now I have that restless leg syndrome,
Whenever I’m called on by a teacher,
My anxiety kicks in,
But I still have to sit there uncomfortably,
And answer their question,

Honestly, its not fair,
When people think its all an act,
I wish they would see how I struggled,
When I’m unable to ask for things I really need,
Because I’d rather take a zero then let someone make me feel,
Less then,

More than I already do,
When I am the awkward one,
with my “friends” in the conversations,
Not being socially acceptable,
Because sometimes I talk when I shouldn’t,
Or don’t always get everything,

But when teachers don’t even want to try,
And understand you,
And maybe help you when they're supposed to,

Why do they expect me to keep trying?
When I’d get the same results,
if I just gave up.

This is what happens when you have an unseen disability,
Because no one believes it's a really thing,
So everyone gives up,

Everyone thinks kids use it as an excuse to be lazy,
But anyone with it,
Know how hard it takes to work for something,
And then watch it mean nothing.
Link to video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e0xqhZo1Xvw

this poem is the original narration for the video I made, I ended up not using the entire voice over, but it was in mind the entire time during editing and filming. it was written after I made a storyboard. I entered this in a film contest, it didn't get selected like one of my other ones. this is my favorite film though.
1.3k · May 2015
Smokers Breath
Cat Fiske May 2015
I want to take breaths,
so peaceful,
a single feather,
will float up and down from my lips,
and silence will be as common as oxygen,
and you will only hear me inhale,
and exhale,

like it was when I took my first drag,
I took it,
as a loud world went quiet,
and all focus went on your hand,
you forgot about the simple things,
simple things that really where so uncontrolled,
you just forgot,

and with a clear head,
you take the most peaceful breaths,
as your smoke,
acts as a feather,
and floats,
What it felt like the first time I smoked.
1.3k · Dec 2015
you again
Cat Fiske Dec 2015
my throat was rotted and dry,
as I urged for you to hear my cries,

as if make you hear me again,
as if to try and show you my smile again,

to smile and show you,
how everything will be alright,

wouldn't it be nice,
like the puzzle becoming complete finally.

but my voice cant speak these words,
and my lips and throat aren't moist enough,

to motion this smile we both truly need,
to speak these words to stop the cries,

as if to tell you its all going to be alright,
so we will part ways, drift, and fly away this night,
just a poem.
1.3k · Aug 2015
words to use more often
Cat Fiske Aug 2015
6:30 a.m. you wake to see,
a lovely girl.

the type a girl,
who comes with the proper set of manners,

but looks like somewhere,
this girl lost her standards.

7:00 a.m. she wakes and sees you.
when you've never had the decency to point out her beauty,

you're so swell thinking about,
how you can get her for a second round,

never calling her beautiful,
or flawless during the round

you act lousy to her,
even though

you were really hoping to do more than to embrace her,
but you soon forget all this,

as you lie in bed,
at 10 a.m.

sleepy,
like the loath you were,

10:30 a.m. your fast asleep,
while she feels the ever growing solitude,

11:00 a.m. she stands in front of the window,
beams of sun on her like the angel in heaven planned it,

as she sips the coffee she made for the both of you,
11:30 a.m. the coffee is cold, and she contemplates her purpose here,

by 1:00 p.m she is wondering if this relationship,
will ever evolve into something more,

1:30 p.m. she realized he doesn't care about her presents,
and wonders if any man would.

2:00 p.m. she fears no one could ever love her,
she's found herself filling notebooks of flaws that are too great to love,

it is now 2:30 p.m. on the dot, and if someone was to walk in on her,
it would be as if she was omit from the world for years..

a minute passes and he walks in,
pours some coffee,

he drinks, and swallows the cold coffee,
puts the mug down,

he looks at her with disgrace almost,
and walks away,

to who cares where, because at 2:36 p.m.,
she wrote one more flaw,

my coffee was cold and he left me again,
and that was enough to tell her she was worthless.

and he sat in his chair,
not once getting up to say,

or tell her,
how he thought she was beautiful,

flawless,
or the fact he loved her,
communication. complements, and using some words that aren't used too often. I saw a page of words no one used anymore, and flawless and buitiful were the first two, and there were some other interesting words, so I figured why not make it about using theses words, by also making it about two people who didn't communicate, Idk if its a poem or a short story, if someone knows plz tell me.
1.3k · Apr 2016
Evergreens
Cat Fiske Apr 2016
The evergreens twist and fade away,
This only brings forth the light of day,

and in the cold night,
we will meet underneath the moon,

underneath the storms of the land,
full of evergreens gloom,

and when we meet again,
underneath the moon,

The stars will fade,
to a blackened blue,

and the moon will shine,
until the day is due,

the moon will shine,
until it's time is through,

and we see the moon,
disappear today,

like our evergreens,
who twisted and faded away,

we learn in the light of the sun,
the evergreens have left with no return,

when we cry a tear,
the sun will make them fade,

we twist as we hold each other close,
as we wish to fade away,

And the moon appears,
next to the sun,

and the evergreens come back,
to surround us and make us one,

and the stars come out,
and dust off the blackened dirt,

and we all sit inside,
of the earth,
A song I made on my uke,
1.3k · Mar 2016
what I did wrong.
Cat Fiske Mar 2016
__

*I can't give you my trust,
I can not get close to you,
I can not let you hold me even when I wish for you to,
I can not let you show me how you love me like others used too,

I struggle when I listen, or try to concentrate, to the things you say,
I struggle to communicate my feeling back to you in the same way,

I sometimes feel like I'm too demanding of you,
I don't know how to do the comedies of a give and take,
I feel like I sometimes only take, and leave a burden on top of you,
I constantly feel guilty for what I do to you, I feel guilty for the things I do,
I get to have you, but I am not worth someone like you,

I hope I don't hurt you too bad, on days when I am too sad,
I sometimes need to relax and detach. my dissociation won't last forever,
I know I am not perfect in this world that is so dull and grey, but I try,
I each day, have tried, I empathise more then not,

I am sorry more then not, like the fears I cry tears over,
I wish I could overcome them, I wish I could stop avoiding my past,
I wish I could forget all the bad, make memories that are good and will last,
I can't remember day to day tasks, and I can't remember anything un-sad,

I wish that when you told me things I could understand it better,
I wish I handled things better, learn to fix them on my own,
I wish I didn't depend on you for help, but I wouldn't if I could fix it myself.
I wish I stopped staying in bad places and leaving the good ones I find,

I want to not act so compulsive with these addictions that surround me,
I wish I could get rid of the overlaying grief that hangs over me,  
I wish I could move on from what has been taken from me,
I want to stop letting it exhaust me,

I am tired, but never sleep, and to sleep wouldn't help my tiredness,
I tried to sleep with you and lay down next to you wide awake,
I wish I could of been sleeping as peaceful as you,

I feel plagued by all my bad memories,
I want them to go away, because they only make it harder for you,
I know you don't love me, I know at least you shouldn't love me,
I worry that I worry you, and I don't want you to be worried about me,
I feel like you deserve more, and better, and should get it.
I want to protect you from the damage I can put upon you,
I feel the panic inside brews, and I can't rid myself from it,
I wish you would save yourself from me.

I get angry, and mad, and upset,
I do this rather then having an emotional shut down,
I hate that I lash out, I don't want to get mad at you,

I hate myself, I wish that I could love myself like I used to,
I take risks hoping that something better could happen, but it doesn't,

I feel alone,
I feel abandoned,
I feel rejected,
I feel helpless,
I feel trapped,

I know you left because you felt like this
I lost you, because of all these things,
I know what I did wrong
my ptsd ruined my relationship, this is a reflection
1.2k · May 2015
Matter[ed]
Cat Fiske May 2015
thought I mattered,
I thought you cared.
Didn’t think you’d replace me,
I was never scared.
I should have been ready,
But I was unprepared.
I told you everything,
My thoughts I shared.
Didn’t think you’d leave me.
I never dared.
To try and breath out of lungs
That lacked air.
Moms
1.2k · Apr 2015
Visible
Cat Fiske Apr 2015
I always wanted a name like a color,
But then I felt bad,
Because what if the other colors got sad,
because if my name,
was to cause them pain,
I'd cry,
and wish to be wrapped,
and panted,
in a rainbows vein,
And be know as,
spectrum,
Color Spectrum.

I'll be an array,
of entities,
as light shines threw,
I will be more then the common,
and Physical Propensities,
because besides light waves,
the sea will go though me too,
and the mass and length of both,
Will not hold me down,
because I am color spectrum,
And with the rain and the sun,
I am one,
A prism.

Creating the suns rain,
into a bow of color across the sky,
red, orange, yellow, green,
fly,
blue and indigo,
will not just be colors,
to color up our sky,
and violet,
sweet violet,
will combine us,
make us one,
but we are bond,
a band,

bands of colors,
pretty to the eye,
we still hold so much more,
invisible to us,
but still with us,
because like the bands,
we are the same,
with feelings and emotions,
there,
but unseen,
until you look a little closer,
because we are a spectrum,
and that has more to do with our hearts, bodies, and minds,
then the names, looks, and colors,
we bare,
idk just something i came up with
1.2k · Dec 2016
maltreatment
Cat Fiske Dec 2016
car ride,*
to,
your house,
to,
your yard,
up,
the stairs,
to
your front door,
to,
enter,
to,
step inside,
to,
look around,
to,
be leaded,
up,
stairs,
to,
stop,
to,
open the door,
to,
enter,
to,
wait for you,
to,
sit with my friend,
in,
your room.
to,
watch you enter,
to,
ask you about your day,
to,
be your friend.
but,
you, lay, down,
to,
pull, me close,
to,
not, let go,
to,
get, on, top,
to,
go, down, my pants,
to,
take, off, my top,
to,
not, hear me, when I screamed,
**STOP.
i got out of their. and I am fine. just thought it would be a powerful story to share.
1.2k · Mar 2016
Bum Cigs.
Cat Fiske Mar 2016
Almost jumped off that bridge,
sadly I wish I did.

instead I found some relief in *** cigs,
and used to help me forget,

I held my breath to calm down,
until tomorrow came around.
been mylife the last 2 months.
1.2k · May 2016
Candles and Glass
Cat Fiske May 2016
Like a candle we all shrink away,
and are left in a pool of our own mess,
but I collected up the wax,
to make the broken things new,
and that's when my candle holder shattered,
and you can't fix things like broken glass,
the same way you can with old used wax,
it has to stay broken,
because you can't mend all broken things.
1.2k · Jul 2015
Road Kill
Cat Fiske Jul 2015
I got to say these things that were eating away at my soul like the birds,
Birds that happen to look a whole lot like crows,
who only ever go after the dead decaying prays,
because when it's dead, it's easiest to ****** away.

But I spoke line after line like the little white lines that lie in long lines,
on the highways where the dead bodies have been laid out to dry,
I was not going to give into your games let alone cry,
but if I must shed some tears to tell all the fears you have put on me,
then my eye will bleed red,
and never dry out,

And for me to pour my heart out onto you,
is as evil as the crow you are,
while you plot where you're going to pick me apart first when I finish,
but like the crows and the dead carcase I am,
we all have rights,
but like the bandages that can't stick around to fix my wounds,

im sorry,
A thing I've been more often than sometimes,
so its hard to fill in the bubbles of how someone hurts,
when the scales seem to add up in the favor of the other hand.

But that still gives me no right to act and do the things you do,
and play dress up in rooten old skin,

like you have set the example for me,
to lie to those who stared death in the face and went on as before,
but before they were nothing and after there still wasn't something,
and you checked the boxes under the bubbles.
securing they would be fine.

when in reality they were fine like you said,

if you compared their mental status to that of yours.
who let someone roam around like a dead corps.
as the crows above circled and waited,
mocking,
taunting,
waiting for the innocence of an infant to mess up.
so they could finally strike.


I get it's only human nature,
Just like the circle of life,
*But why do people have to keep neglecting children,
until those vultures finally strike.
I've tried to write this for the longest time ever. I finally did. Its about how adults have treated me. when I begged them, to see the things wrong with me.
1.2k · Aug 2015
Milk Stain
Cat Fiske Aug 2015
I loved of milk stains from overflowed cereal bowls,
like too much love was the problem with you and I,
and not that you didn't grab a bigger bowl,
for all the love I wanted to pour out.

but like stains they fade away,
into backgrounds becoming nothings,
of somethings,
that were all once one thing,
worth the energy of the other side of what used to be,
but not everyone gets to be blown away by you,
others will do away with you,
leaving you.
to fade into the tables and become one,

you look at what you once had,
new milk fills the bowl never overstepping in things of love,
overspilling the love,
like you did,
and you'd cry if you weren't dried out.

and you look,
at what happiness they both have,
something you wished to of haved for the both of you,
and it tears your heart in two,
and you may cry on the inside,
but find it in your mind
that your heart may be broken,
but you need to let them fly,
and love,
for you couldn't love right,

and in that moment,
you shut your little milk stained eyes,
the right way to die,
is with tears of forgiveness,
and to remember and move on from the past,
and as you release a single dried out tear,
all of you fade into the background as if you were never there,
leaving no trace,
but your single dried out milk stain tear,
Just a few old Ideas I finally put together.
1.2k · Dec 2015
I used to believe in santa
Cat Fiske Dec 2015
I don't believe in childish things,

like santa,

I don't partake anymore in the act of gift getting,

I used to believe that all these things used to be what christmas time was for,

but what about the kids who never got even 1 gift this season,

we hardly hear their cries,

there happy to have they family together just for christmas night,

but what about those kids,

who can't even get that,

santa must not like them then,

*** santa has forgotten them,

no,

because there's no such thing as santa,

and I have not forgotten them,

but who else has not forgotten them,

someone needs to help them,

I used to believe in santa,

I used to get gifts,

but now I ask my family to give my gifts to other kids,

this seasons about giving,

so give to someone who has less.
an idea for the season.
1.2k · Sep 2015
sad flowers
Cat Fiske Sep 2015
I walked the streets,
wishing to hear from you today,
but I see the sad memories as the Adonis open up to cry and pray,
and I remember that I'm just going to slowly fade away,

I was to see a man holding Aster's,
who looked a whole lot like you,
I remembered how you said you loved me,
and then I saw the man pull out flowers as blue as your eyes,

a blue like Anemone for a women,
just as her and my face could show the fading hope,
how she remembered getting Apple Blossom's as a promise from you,
like you had promised to much to keep to me too,

you feel the Bittersweet in the Truth and patients and love you gave,
and you feel Blackthorns stab at you as if it isn't difficult enough,
to forget the pain,
and let the memories fade,

your on your way home,
and you see the bellworths all closed up as if hopelessness is dead,
and the Bittersweet Truth,
is trying to tell you look for the Bellflowers as if he sent you them,

but your heart will learn,
as you race home,
your heart will drop,
when you don't see hee wants to talk to you,

but when you see Butterfly Weeds on your doorstep,
as if he was trying to tell you,
Let Me Go,
when you wanted him to fly back,
Sad flowers to tell a tale about losing someone your good friends with, or just someone you love who doesn't wish to love you anymore.
1.1k · Apr 2015
Panic Attacks
Cat Fiske Apr 2015
You seem to hurt my heart,                                                          
­Repetitively,                                                    ­                              
and the doctors say:                                                             ­         
                                       "They can’t bandage a word broken heart,"
   "When the bandage won’t  be able to fix me,"                              
This is when my body mutates,
Making it hard to breath ,                  
                                  Or really do anything,
This is when,
            My ribs,                                      
                 wrap around my heart,
trying to protect it from you,                                              
                               and while my lungs were unprotected,
and I was at a lack of breath,                          
                               ­  you seemed to take that,
with any happiness you could find,                
And I sat there,
        Shaking,
Then,                  
                 ­                                       Crying because it’s not even first period
what it feels like to have one, mine are because of my PTSD triggers
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