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 Nov 2019 Malia
M Vogel
believer
 Nov 2019 Malia
M Vogel

Within the  peace  that comes

  from a very,  Loved place;
there is an un-settling..

And, into what once felt secure
there enters a disturbance..
(a dark,  unholy-meddling)

((Yet, the painful growth that chaos
brings,  pierces the form of security
this fear-filled world is peddling.))


Feeling betrayed,  she now wants to run
    but  instead,  believes..


                      ..And,  against all odds:
         she draws from the love of God
               in order  to help protect her

                from the very love,  of God.


Face to face,
in a dry  and waterless place.

https://youtu.be/1P4b73fqglo
an unforgettable fire
 Nov 2019 Malia
Àŧùl
Her eyes are poetry and a blink of her eyes is a poem.
Her voice is poetry and each of her words is a poem.
Her thinking is poetry and each of her thoughts is a poem.

My love for her is poetry and each of my expressions for her is a poem.
My care for her is poetry and each of my suggestions for her is a poem.
My desire for her is poetry and each expression of my romance for her is a poem.

Our mutual attraction is poetry and each of our confessions to one another is a poem.
Our eternal relationship is poetry and each of our manifestations for one another is a poem.
Our way of talking to each other is poetry and each of our conversations with one another is a poem.
Redefining my poetry and poem.

My HP Poem #1812
©Atul Kaushal
 Nov 2019 Malia
Ashly Kocher
My soul is on fire from the bleeding heart
Shooting sparks every time you get
Closer
Closer
Closer
Caution
Explosives ahead.....
 Nov 2019 Malia
Jake Welsh
and why would it?

expecting something from chaos
knelt on knees, as if words formed silently upon wishful lips
will create the world for you tomorrow

lives are spent
on absolutely nothing
all the time
from "salve" 2019
available @: https://www.etsy.com/shop/leafandplume
 Nov 2019 Malia
Kafka Joint
The end of the world
Is always around the corner,
Just don't go there.
 Nov 2019 Malia
Megan
i have to show the world that what you three did to me only scratched my surface,
only took off the shiny layer of myself that i had previously perfected for the eyes of society’s critical audience.
but you didn’t.
you’ve broken my soul
and torn my heart
and punctured my lungs
and i’m finding it harder to live and breathe every single day.
people think that the pain caused by an experience like this lives and dies in the moment that it happens,
but those people are sincerely wrong.
it's been three hundred and twenty-seven days since it happened,
since each of you violated me
and took advantage of me
and abused my right to consent.
but i bet you didn’t know that those days equate to seven thousand, eight hundred and forty-eight hours that it’s been on my mind
and i bet you didn’t know that the nightmare is now burned into my skin
and flowing through my blood
and coded into my dna.
the constant feeling that my body is no longer mine will not leave.
the feeling that i’m missing a part of myself is going to stick with me.
the feeling that my heart strings are severed,
that my lungs have burst,
that my legs can no longer carry the weight of my newly found burden
and that my life has been tainted by your evil touch
will never disperse.
these feelings cannot be brushed under a rug,
but i’ve got to appear like they can to the outside world.
do you know what else hurts?
what also hurts is that this trauma,
the same trauma that is making me want to end my life,
constantly hoping that the last of my heart strings will break so that my heart can plummet to the depths of my destroyed soul to lay with my sanity,
is being used to mock me.
as if my life could be forced into further submission without the teasing and bullying of my peers.
thank you,
to the three boys that took my innocence,
turned my meaning of the word ‘no’ into ‘yes’
and made my body into a lighthouse as a guide for the devil.
he’s found me.
you’ve broke me.
you win.
 Nov 2019 Malia
Megan
Together they were the perfect team.

She was tired of perfection long before she met him. Constantly having to put up a successful front was exhausting, but her barrier of bravado was faltering.

It's hard to find imperfections in an idyllic world.

He didn't want to live in the life of his reputation anymore. The tornado that his life had become was beginning to ruin him and he wanted nothing more to find some quiet.

It's hard to find solace in the storm.

No longer did she want to create masterpieces; she wanted to wreak havoc. She had a taste of the life she wanted, but once you take the first few steps on the path of self-destruction, you cannot turn back. The whisper in the wind becomes seductive. Like a drug, she needed it. She made a U-turn, a complete diversion from the road that had been paved for her. She felt a rush from the change of direction, and fell in love with it. He was her change of direction.

It's hard to find fault in someone that provides the mess you've been searching for.

He wanted nothing more than some peace in his whirlwind of a life; maybe that's why he gravitated towards her. She gave him the comfort that he had desired for years. She made him feel as if the rollercoaster, designed as a downwards spiral, that he has been riding since birth was starting to calm down. She became the sense of calm in his brutal life.

It's impossible to reject something you have been seeking for years.

Together they were unstoppable. She lost herself in his chaos and she took it on herself. She was an angel who lost her way, blinded by desire for imperfection and love for a boy that finally made her feel again. He was a hurricane that found the solace in her that he has wanted for what felt like an eternity. He revelled in the peace she brought to his life and he loved her more than he could articulate.

She found her demon; she became a fallen angel, the devil reincarnate that took the chaos out of his life and put it into hers.

He found his angel; he became a quiet rainfall that gave his tornado to the girl that craved the destruction it created.

Together they were the perfect team.
 Nov 2019 Malia
Megan
Angel girl
 Nov 2019 Malia
Megan
Angel.
Angel littered with scars, her halo askew above her head. Worn wings turned black and blue, *****. No longer white and pure; she's seen too much to remain white and pure.
Poor angel girl.
Poor angel girl with trauma igniting her senses. Rain soaked hair, mascara paints her eyes black, smudged crimson lipstick resembling the blood she plans to spill.
Angry angel girl.
Angry angel girl with boiling blood and fingertips of venom. Touching lives and turning them to ash. Falling asleep to the screams of those who hurt her.
Angel turned devil.
Angel turned devil with sunken in eyes, pain hidden behind the blue. White knuckles gripping onto reality, she doesn't want to be alive anymore. Losing control, losing control, losing control.
Devil girl.
Devil girl with no soul, spitting on the lives of those who wronged her. Pulling strings like a puppet master, karma at work. No-one hurts an angel girl and gets away with it.
 Nov 2019 Malia
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
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