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At age 7, I was guilty
when I accepted an invitation
to go into the apartment of a neighbor
He smelled of beer as he groped me.

At age 10, I was guilty
when I walked home too late
because I missed the train
He popped out of the bushes
exposing himself.

At age 12, I was guilty
when my uncle forced
tongue into my mouth
because I could not
get away.

At age 14, I was guilty
when my uncle forced
me to sit on his lap
while in my bathing suit
and I ran away from home.

At age 16, I was guilty
when my uncle convinced
everyone that I was a liar
and I quit school.

At age 18, I was guilty
when I gave birth to
my first child,
because I was ignorant.

At age 20, I was guilty
when I saw the cardiologist
in the reflection of a lamp
*******  and the
police laughed at my report.

At age 30, I was guilty
when my employer
trapped me in the elevator
to ***** me, because I
was his subserviant.

At age 36, I was guilty
when I earned jujitsu honors
but risked going to jail
for defending myself.

At age 70, I was guilty
when a neighbor brought
me fruit and grabbed my
breast, because I was alone.

At age 72, I am guilty
of being a ferule woman
for 50 years and for
NOT be silent!
How many times must a woman be guilty for her existence?
 Jan 2018 Ivan Brooks Sr
Carissa
Blood on the sleeve of your sweater / you smile when they ask you what's wrong / recorded laughter through scratchy speakers / lipstick on the mirror / mascara on your fingers / soak your tears into the stems of the flowers on your windowsill / you'll never let them see you cry / hands pressed to the window / you prepare for the sting of another cycle / needlepoint sunsets & bleary eyed sunrises / static silence fills the hours / & you can't help but wonder if they'll visit your grave
I dream of* lovers
who fascinate me to no end,
veering the course of their affection
from something they understand exists,
to something they fear to understand

I dream of
hearts
yearning for their better halves,
as they seep deeper into the chasms
that engulf their intimacy within

I dream of
sinners
who wish to speak of sin;
rather the innocence of deviance
and its naiveté when it comes
to matters of the heart

I dream of
writers
who bleed from their pens
as they wholeheartedly express their emotions
and aspire to quell the heartache
that they endure every day

I dream of
innovators
who wish to present upon their peers
the next invention selected
to represent the advent of a better tomorrow

I dream of tears.
I dream of
tears....

Why? What sorcery forces one
to shed so many
that they leak past
the prisms of known consciousness
and into the peaceful slumber
that comforts aching minds?


I apologize.

Now you know of the dread, sorrow,
and sheer wonder that comes
when I dream of earthly elements
begging for peace.

I dream because I am a coward.
I apologize for
*dreaming.
 Jan 2018 Ivan Brooks Sr
Tyler
I'll never get it.
I'll never understand.
How could she love such a serpent, That's buried deep within the sand.

He never deserved her.
He never appreciated anything about her.
He was just to blind to see.

For me, just her smile alone, made me instantly want to be a better man.

And although you've held her,
Been there to help ease the pain.
You lock away how she makes you feel inside because there's just too much pain. You realize then, how precious she is and hold back the incredible urge to only love her bran new.
Show her how real love is supposed to feel.

If ever I could have the chance to say this to you I'd make sure first hand that you understand, "it will be his loss in the end because any man can see just by being around you, that you were never a **** he pulled, but
actually a radiant, rare rose.
I love you c.
I always will.
Beruntung bisa berbincang
Terikat dalam dunia mu
Mencinta dibalik pertemanan
Menumbuhkan bibit cerita diriku & dirimu

Izinkan aku untuk memberi isyarat
Biarkanlah perasaan mu menjalar
Dekaplah bila terasa nyaman
Rasa ini telah menyatakan

Semesta yang menjadi saksi
Bahwa keajaiban terjadi di hati ku
Mendekatlah
Tangan mu akan merasakan detak ini

Berdetak hanya untuk mu
Sampai akhir hayat
Terikat dengan mu
Mendekatlah.
23/01/2018 | 20.24 | Indonesia | K.***
 Jan 2018 Ivan Brooks Sr
tortilla
Not
I'm not...
There is so much I am not.
Happy?
No.
Angry?
No.
Sad?
No.
Then what?
Empty.
But this isn't you.
I know.
You're so different.
I know.
All of your energy...
Stolen.
All of your passion...
Taken.
All of your fight...
Gone.
... for good?
I couldn't tell you.
But before-
Everything from before feels unreal, fake.
Surely you'll feel different tomorrow.
Surely.
.
.
.
So I suppose it doesn't matter.
...
 Jan 2018 Ivan Brooks Sr
lu
words
 Jan 2018 Ivan Brooks Sr
lu
I FELL IN LOVE
WITH SOMEONE
TODAY.
I HAVE NEVER MET
THEM NOR TALKED TO THEM
BUT MY HEART
IS CAPTIVATED BY
THE WAY HE WRITES.
I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING  
ABOUT HIM.
IS HE IN A RELATIONSHIP?
IS HE EVEN INTO GIRLS?
WHAT IS HIS FAVORITE COLOR,
AND DOES HE PREFER COFFEE OR TEA?
I KNOW HE WILL READ THIS.
HE READS ALL OF MY WORK.
I KNOW HE WILL LOOK OVER THIS
AND NOT REALIZE I AM WRITING
ABOUT HIM.
BUT IF YOU HAPPEN TO
REALIZE THIS IS FOR
YOU,
PLEASE DON’T BE SCARED
TO LET ME KNOW.
I WILL NEVER HAVE THE GUTS TO SAY
HELLO.
A where's
Just is
Becomes the say we
Meet there on
The lawn
Nervous feet dig
Trembling eyes
Clasp
Wanting
 Jan 2018 Ivan Brooks Sr
Kenya83
Dreams, dreaming  
Being, seeing, believing
Existing in this parallel place
Nobody else can ever step
In to this transformative space
Like walking up a stairway of the mind
And falling through the door to what’s behind
Closing tight eyes and shutting down minds
Subconsciousness catches a ride
The safety-net cloud breaks your fall
Illusions are real, you feel it all
You touch skin
You breathe in
Sunrise rouses dreams with pleasant memories
Vivid flashbacks disguised as false remedies
Abruptly ending melodies
Are dreams friends or enemies?
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