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 Jun 2014 blackbox
Remy
Dear Father
 Jun 2014 blackbox
Remy
Dear Father,



You had me convinced
that I was simply
the misstep in a
carefully lain plan:

a variable in some
grand, cosmic equation
or just the marriage
of ***** and regret…

to you, I felt like
the sticky, black
afterthought at the edge
of an addiction.

You beat me to a
gangrenous tinge
or until the bruises turned
a darkly, black burn.

You rendered me broken, addled;
our “good times”,
became dusty , old yesteryear
I had read cover-to-cover;

memorized, then forgot them
in one quick, embittered glance.
And now, you've vanished, a feather
in a magician‘s cap:

a soluble secret
exposed to a single tear.
As always, I guess I’ll
just pretend to be your daughter,

…and you’ll pretend, in return, that
I was never born.



Sincerely,

Your mistake.
I wrote this for my dad. He walked out on me and my mother when I was seven. Sometimes I almost forget his picture or how he looked like. He was a cop and I remember one day I grabbed his gun when he wasn't looking and he slapped me. That was the first and last time he ever hit me. He's not a bad person but he acts like one. I don't hate him, I never did. You know? When you get that feeling of loving someone but at the same time you dislike him for something bad that he did? Well, that's how I feel about my father. Everyone with a heart forgives... I forgave him.
Ma
She comes back but not like this
In dreamscape most part I miss
Without contour ethereal

But last night she was so real!

I miss you ma where have you been
With you son always within
Showed up too in all these years
In your smiles in all your tears!


We walked together hands clung tight
Cheek on cheek in rain washed light
It was only joy that beamed her face
Being with son in reunion’s happiness!

She smiles to me *I wasn’t ever gone
A mother leaves not stays back in her son
I live through you one blood one part
As all the love you feel at heart!
 Jun 2014 blackbox
Cynthia
The Truth
 Jun 2014 blackbox
Cynthia
Some keep me hidden
others bring me to the light,
I fight for justice and peace at mind.
Through sorrow and pain I am also found.
You say to others, “The Truth shall set you free,”  
but all along you’ve kept Me locked in a cage.
Enslaved by your own lies,
They became your own refuge, your only escape.
On the other hand, I am certain, simple and gentle, never hurtful,
I fight for justice and peace at mind.
While some keep Me hidden and others bring Me to the light,
My name says it all, I am the Truth
My word will set the Way- to the Truth- in your Life.
Don’t hide me, bring me to the light.

Copyright© Cynthia Ulloa
All rights reserved.
 Mar 2014 blackbox
Rachel Mena
Push
 Mar 2014 blackbox
Rachel Mena
Won't you please just let me be
Please just leave me at my own peace

Won't you please just go away
When I say leave, I don't mean stay

When I push with all my might
Do not fight back, it is not right

When I stop and start to cry
Try not to look me in the eye

Do not try to fix my life
You were not the glue, but the knife

Say goodbye and let me go
Accepting all you do not know
 Mar 2014 blackbox
Willow-Anne
Late at night is when I think
And try to I clear my head
I often stay awake all night
Just laying in my bed

As soon as I get comfy
Thoughts start racing in
I start to question everything
and regret my every sin

At first the thoughts are gentle
Like what will I do tomorrow
But as time crawls by; they escalate
Till I'm drowning in my sorrow

I think of all my failures
Every detail of what I did wrong
After hours of reliving pain
I convince myself I don't belong

I suddenly feel isolated
and like the silence will never end
I feel like I will never escape
There's too much I just can't mend

I feel overpowered and worthless
Like I'll never do anything right
I hide till the world fades away
And I'm awoken by the light

I realize a new day has come
It's time to put on a brave face
I put those negative thoughts away
Until I return to this place
 Mar 2014 blackbox
Amanda
Be careful*
when you hold my hand.
Please?
As much as my winter-bitten lips refuse to say

"I am fragile."

Don't worry, spring will kiss them.

Between my wrist and fingertips, bear a gossamer web of time's sewing, see that criss-cross there, yes, it's still mending.

Little threads of fine, fine alchemy.

Above all, be very careful & wide-eyed
with my heart.

The space between my ribs and my white heart painted red
bears
old, old scars
that never quite
closed
to
s l e e p.

Creased memories still peek-a-boo here & there
before
threads and thin lines of time seam them away.

It is scary, I know.

But, I promise,
I'll do the same for you, sweet-heart.
Hi Hi Hi!
Hope you enjoy this little nonsensical writing!
x
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