Everyone is capable of being
a victim it doesn’t matter what
color, gender, size or lifestyle.

We are all human beings.

People who claim men are
not capable of being a victim
are abusive and they are guilty
not men.

Also, no means no,
silence means no,
walking away means no,
its stalking if you follow someone
after they said no or didn’t engage
you.

Just because they spoke to you
doesn’t make them your partner
or friend.

If you want a partner don’t be a
creeping stalker.

If you don’t get the point you should
go away and stop making excuses
for your abuses. Take responsibility!

People need to be honest and
educated so we can fight the abuse
and win.

Free the victim and
give them a path to survival.

Don’t be silent about abuse.

Be loud and proud to speak the truth.

Everyone deserves the same respect.

“Love is acceptance and success
because it helps build societies
so be kind to each other and
humanity will thrive.” ❤

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton

As the sun rises over the
wild flowers my sorrows bloom
as Spring breaks the chill of winter's
frost and my tears melt into a flowing river.

Lay me down upon the sun
soaked earth where my tears
keep sorrows company until the night.

My sorrows float down the banks
of tearful mountains over and under
rocks until it becomes a raging
waterfall crashing to the bottom
of the mountains.

As spring kissed the earth it soaked
my tears into the soil drinking my sorrows.

And upon the coming morrow
dew gathers on the grass.

Lay me down upon the grass where
dew drops reflect my sorrow, as the
light slowly fades into darkness
my cries will echo through the night.

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton

You've got spiders in your smile,
cobwebs in your heart, stitches hold
together your dislocated mind,
your unhinged and vile.

You're memory stinks like toxic
water from the grimmest pools ever
used, it's a sewer full of poo and ***.

Your loveless heart is soft and black,
its black mold has grown,
its fuz is coming out of the creaks
grabbing for its victims.

In between the infection of your
festering mind you will find, passed
victims you've collected trapped
inside scar tissue from passed
infections.

You are a crazy thought that runs
circles in my head, while yelling
profanities and accusations.

You are a narcissist and an infection
upon my mental health.

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton

My tears fall with the leafs,
as my sorrows blow in the breeze
a chill kissed my cheeks.

My sorrowful autumn with its
reds and browns scattered on the
ground, here my tears lie in between
the roots of the trees and my
happiness chokes on the dirt as
sorrow buries me.

Sad me, buried under the girth of
autumns sorrows.

Will you remember me until spring?

©️ 2023 By Amanda D Shelton

"Poet I am, poetry this be. Now you're swimming in my poetic dream. Welcome dreamer, you are the possibilities."

Here I am a passing fraze,
a sentence running across the stage.

Here's the chains I broke into pieces of poetic possibilities,
slowly falling onto the page.

Upon this dawning time I rise,
letters scatter as I begin to gather
line by line I hunt the rhythm.

Tug the boat toe to toe
ride the waves into chaotic
seas of poetic dreams.

These dark waters hold no secrets,
for I am it's boatman fishing for a
poetic stream as my thoughts fly
like star's across the sky falling into
a flooding river at my feet.

For I bleed poetry, I drink it like a
cup of tragedies, I am rooted possibilities, poetry is an idea dreaming of being me.

Poet I am, a dreamer of lucid plots,
the poet is set free from my caged mind that broke free from the chains of reality.

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton

Huntsman beauty weaving her web, gently undercover she began
to shed.

From the back she started to slip
from a slit shivering and quivering, above your head
there she hung from a thread.

The spider on top seemed dead
the other was hanging and
began moving.

Once her job was done, the spider
began to descend from the shell
of her former self by a line of silk.

Time for rest and the next evening
the huntsman beauty is ready for
a night out on the town wearing
her new dress.

©️ By Amanda Shelton

The moon hangs low over my head,
reminds me of my ghost and before
I'm dead my ashes spread upon
my sleeping bed and I rose.

Eternity is a memory that
never forgets me, it breathes
and beats for me until I'm dead.

Such dread is in the light,
for the light devours night
and I am still dead.

The night also devours light,
brings back my dead soul.
As the sun slowly lay's it's
weary head peeking over the horizon.

Such dread is in the light
for only at night do I take flight.

Lay me down on a bed of bones
and allow the thorns to overgrow
and be my chamber of secrets and
here lies deep rooted memories
that never leave my head.

A vampires bed is bone white
and cold.

I am pounding on the post
yelling at my ghost, as I
lay deep under the earth.

Here I call home.

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton