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5d · 151
365 days ago...
sena 5d
today marks one year;
a year since i tried to take my life
today i can say with asurety
it gets better
today i can say with asurety
you matter
your worth
every breath.
your existence alone is a powerful reason to continue living
sena 6d
late in the night quiet whispers echo through the house 
intrigued, i sit at the top of the stairs listening to your conversation
and since then i regretted it.

i've been the daughter that sits at the top of the stairs since i was 11
and i've never stopped 

for 6 years now,
i sit; hearing how you talk about me...
to your friends 
to your aunt's 
to dad 
to anyone that will hear you
and over the years i've learned you like to broadcast my sins
my mistakes 
you only see me as gossip for when the conversation falls quiet

last night i sat at the top of the stairs 
and that was my final straw
pure ******* rage grew inside of me 
almost hate.
you painted the most appalling picture of me
as if im still that girl
as if i hadnt gone to extreme lengths to get rid of who i used to be 

last night, i cried myself to sleep 
and when tears ran out;
the sorrow the lonliness settled in my heart 
as if they had a home there. 


i cant wait for the day i leave and never talk to you again.
surprise surprise another poem abt how much i cant stand my mom
Apr 2 · 84
mom
sena Apr 2
mom
in the kitchen, she moves like a storm
quiet, yet loud in her own way
her footsteps so loud and abrupt
she does as she pleases
leaving crumbs in her wake
clattering pots and pans
shes allowed to leave clothes on the floor
to take up space
to growl at the sky when the sun doesnt shine right
and we-
we are just the air around her
invisible unless needed
her mood dictates the mood of our home
we move hoping not to disturb her
for it will shape our breath
define our hours
make or break the day before its even begun
we smile while the tears form in our eyes
we hold still when we want to break
we tear ourselves apart to fit the form of her needs
shaping our lives to her wants
until we forget the shape of who we are
this poem is about my mom (obviously) and how I feel my siblings and I bend to her will at home, but she does it in such a dictating way, no warmth , no thank you's , as if we were born to serve her in a way.
Apr 1 · 483
aging...what a pain
sena Apr 1
today i turned 17
another year onto my life
another candle on the cake;
closer to being an adult
or
closer to my death
my perception of aging has always been obscured
unsurety fills me not knowing what lies ahead
but i no longer want to live "unsure"
im determined to live this last year of being adult-free ;
with no worries, no doubts
to live surely in everything i do
ill update again in 365 days.
i want to be 16 forever
sena Mar 10
i stay in the shadows, cast by lovers
while i watch them love in the light
i hear their laughter
their hearts entwined
as i sit alone...
my dream confined
i see their gestures
their tender gaze
a symphony of sweet arrays
yet here i stand
a silent guest
in longings ache, i find no rest,.
im told about the joy love brings
the way it flourishes throughout the soul
the intimacy it brings between two people
for  true love is my goal

i crave the warmth of real connection
a bond with only the purest affection
i wonder if im built to share
this heart that blooms
this heart laid bare.
i just want to be in love.
Feb 20 · 180
growing with the pain
sena Feb 20
you speak in flames,
your words a fire that burns everything i've ever been
each syllable is sharp,
a knife against the soft parts of me
the parts you never cared to see
you twist the truth
fists hidden in your voice,
each insult a stone
throwing me into a pit
of shame and doubt
i stand in your storm
a broken tree with roots to deep to leave
but each word you spit
feels like thunder clashing against my skin
i cant escape
the echoes of your rage
you tear me apart
but still, i ache for something
ill never get;
a whisper of love
a touch without hate
but instead i drown in your fury
and yet you never see the weight
of your own cruelty
the marks you leave with every breathe

but im learning to breathe without you,
to let your venom slip off my skin,
no longer clinging to the scars.
The scars you carved into my heart.
this poem is about me learning to develop and grow with the constant troubles my mom has caused me
Feb 20 · 133
a daughters anguish
sena Feb 20
i call you mother
but the words feel empty
like a hollow space,
full of echoes
your words, sharp as glass, cut deeper than silence
they've molded my bones
into walls i cant break
you hold no warmth
no love in your hands
only the weight of your shadow
the echoes of your cruel words
i hate the way you break me
but claim to love me all in one breath.
this basically somes up my relationship with my mom

— The End —