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Sep 2017 · 455
Luna
B Chapman Sep 2017
Magic comes alive for and before her.
Dreams and love are born in her name.
She dominates the night sky,
blinding and bold.
Oceans kneel to their Queen-
destructive and wild to match her rage.
Sep 2017 · 291
Cocaine and curses
B Chapman Sep 2017
You came to me with powdered knuckles,
you knew it was my poison.
You were raised on horse
so we thought,
'This won't be a problem.'

It feels like the sound
Of a million angels singing.
Doubts explode in the brain,
but the high makes you ignore them.

I knew I had to be stronger
than the last time that I slipped.
I handled my ****,
finished the manuscript,
but you just kept exceeding.

I always knew compassion
would one day be my downfall.
You filled your nose,
hid new hoes
And I just kept abiding.

Losses began to trickle in.
You saw you weren't so hard.
To be honest
From what I've witnessed
None of the gangsters are.

I caught you in a tryst
while lies bled from you lips.
Panic attacks and shiny blades
returned to being my usual ways.

I warned you from the start,
but bulls rarely listen.
The lines crossed you
and you felt used.
Shameful, you grew twisted.

Torn and mangled,
Depleted and abused-
Here's to forsaken me
and my nameless muse.
Sep 2017 · 426
45
B Chapman Sep 2017
45
I fear for my son and the example this sets.
We had other options, why choose this?
'Grab the women, exile the dark.
Worship like us or bare a mark.'

Off goes the tv, the radio down.
I'd hate him to hear such heartbreaking sounds.
We'll wait for the bombs when this man's temper explodes.
But they always said a woman wouldn't be as controlled.  

You call us childish as we fight for our rights.
They're yours too, you're just blinded by pride.
You bang on your chest and cry for respect.
But we'll know who to blame though you'll deny and deflect.

You voted against me, your wives, mothers, daughters, and friends.
But we won't kneel before racism, objectification, and threats.
I bow my head to pray and to weep.
Because of this villain, our country will bleed.
I wrote this on inauguration day and forgot it was hiding in the draft folder. I'm terrible with technology.
Sep 2017 · 395
Relentless
B Chapman Sep 2017
Of all she knew of pain,
self doubt was by far the worst.
Abstract scars,
a worn, old heart,
a practiced smile,
and a medicated mind.
None could distract.
None could heal.
Her soul bent and quivered,
Yet she will never kneel.

— The End —