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 Apr 2016 traumamind
Little Bear
Sometimes I don't understand poems
I read the words and...
I actually think..
maybe I don't have the intelligence
to understand them.
I marvel at how beautiful the poems are.
How deep and profound.

I use words that I know.
Words that I understand and
sometimes, I look in the dictionary
to find a better word for the way I feel.

So I tend to use beautiful and lovely a lot..
Because to me,
there are no better words
than quite beautiful
or completely lovely.

But the poems I don't understand well...
maybe they are not meant for me.
I can't see the message,
the meaning or the story
behind the inspiration.
But I know who ever wrote them
poured their heart out
and shared it with us all.

And so I do think
I am somewhat under intelligent.
But... I do have a love of words.
I love to read
and I love to write
more than anything.

So, every poem that I read and like,
even if I don't understand the meaning,
I will have loved it for it's structure
and the shape it takes on the page.
The way the words taste in my mouth.
The song they play in my ears.
The way all the words,
put in the right order,
make my heart feel.

And I do feel the passion,
it makes me blush..
but I like that,
to feel how it moves me
deep inside.
It reminds me that I can indeed love.
And I am very much alive.

So, even if I don't understand the message
or know the meaning or hear the story.
The words within the poems I read,
are always going to be my favourite thing.

They will always be quite beautiful
and completely lovely.
 Apr 2016 traumamind
Mary K
you stare straight ahead,
eyes swimming like the ocean they were modeled after.
the imperfections in your face were meticulously crafted by an expert artist
in an attempt to make you look more human
when in reality you are a god among men.
the thoughts clamoring for attention in your head
are drowned out by the ringing in your ears
but you smile and nod along to conversation,
as if you are holding on to every last word.
you walk home slowly, forcing yourself to put one foot over the other
sure, everyday, that you're going to open the door and not be able to go on.
at night you lay awake in bed
and listen to the door slamming shut.
poor child, sweet child.
she's only pretending to think you're asleep,
the reality is that she just doesn't really care.
your hands tremble the next morning
on your walk back to school
as you bring the cigarette up to your mouth.
there's nothing poetic in your sadness,
just the void of feeling.
you've stopped studying for your classes,
secretly you were hoping that she'd reprimand you for your failing grades,
desperate for anything to show she still cares.
but instead she takes one uninterested glance and leaves the room
"good. we can't afford to send you to college."
the next day you stop going to classes all together.
the friends you thought you had don't call, don't even seem to notice you're missing.
you've reconciled with this fact when you look yourself in the mirror while you bring your face to the bathroom sink
and inhale sharply.
you have new friends now, and they've shown you a great escape.
yesterday you came home,
pockets full of powder-filled plastic bags,
to find the thing you've been expecting your entire life.
a trail of blood stains the worn-out carpet
and in the middle lies your mother face down.
a gun lies close to her hand,
and you pick it up slowly.
you dial the police
but don't stick around to give the details.
resting the cool metal of the barrel against your temple
you don't look back
5... 4... 3... 2..
um... it was late idk
 Apr 2016 traumamind
Little Bear
Dear You

I wanted to write and tell you all the things I think you should know.
I wanted to tell you that.. you are amazing and I love your words.
Every comma, every consonant, every vowel, every **** syllable.
I feel your heart pour onto the page and it makes me hold my breath.
And pray.
Because .. even the angels need to know what you write, well, that's what they should be preaching.

And I know that times are hard for you, and I feel that too. I know just a little of how that feels. It's not quite the same but, I have anxiety and I worry a lot and I always think I am going to die and my heart races and the world is just too big and it's too loud and tries to eat me alive... and...  
I wish I was invisible.
Maybe that is nothing like the things you face. But you are not alone and I know you are brave. Braver than me... is braver a word? braver.. braver.. more brave, bravest?
Any way... the thing is ...  I will be here should you need me, you just call out my name and you know where ever I am, I'll come running... wait a minute... that's actually a song... I'm quoting some song lyrics to you.. yeah... this is why I don't actually go out much, and probably why I am single..
Okay, I know I am messing all of this up so, I just want to tell you, before I ruin everything.. you are wonderful. You are brave and courageous. You have a soul that I can feel through your words and I think it is beautiful. You are a waterfall of wondrous things. And I hope I can tell you that, I just want you to be my friend...
And if you say yes, that would make two.

Okay I hafta go
Just don't stop writing okay... never stop being wonderful.
Lots of Love
Me
**

You can hear me reading this here...
https://soundcloud.com/rachael-435397529

Probably quite dreadful but I tried :o)
Okay I did thing.. I said it and then I wrote it.
This is for all of you **
Your words and poems and writings are truly beautiful.
Don't ever stop being wonderful ***

Oh and .... I think I pronounce consonant wrong.. Oopsy me  :o)
 Apr 2016 traumamind
vea vents
I have this voice inside of me which drives me to despair;
Even after every effort made — it still berates beyond repair.

I have this voice inside of me, it screams, it kicks, it yells;
Even as I lay in perfect silence, it commands from tortured hells.

I have this voice inside of me, it has multiplied beyond belief;
I see it lies in all I’ve met — proceeds in everyone — without relief.

I have this voice inside of me, one which came from you;
All the lies you ever told me — they grew, they grew, they grew...

I have a mind inside of me, it haunts me through and through;
If I should ever die by my own hand, it spoke to me, through you.

...

I know of parts inside of me, at first I couldn’t distinguish the two;
One from me and one from you, one was false and another, true.

...

Another part inside of me, seeks to end your reign;
Perhaps by then, I will be governed by silence, perhaps by then, it won’t have to be feigned.

Another part inside of me, pleads for a higher path,
It pleads for me to surface, all in the wake of your aftermath.

...

I feel a beating within me, which yearns to live and grow,
*Even in the screams and contractions, a substance beneath me flows.
Head and Heart

"Buddha says that unless you **** your parents you will never become free. Killing the parents means killing the voice of the parent inside you, killing the conscience inside you, dropping these nonsense ideas and starting to live your own life according to your own consciousness. Remember, consciousness has to be more and conscience has to be less. By and by, conscience has to disappear completely and pure consciousness has to be lived. Consciousness is the law – let consciousness be the only law. Then whatsoever you feel, it is your life. You have to decide. It is nobody else’s life; nobody else has any right to decide."
-- Osho
 Apr 2016 traumamind
enigma
The little note you wrote
we were only seven or so years old
I remember the day you picked me a rose
And gave me a kiss on the cheek before I rode my bicycle home
You would hold my hand,and drag me along
to the woods where we'll play,and you told me I would never be alone

We were friends or perhaps a little bit more
but ten years down the line you seem to not care anymore
We were lovers till ninth grade or so
All of the sudden I got no more visits at all
you left me hanging,but I'm still waiting for a **** call
now I see you walking down the road
not alone,but with another girl
she was pretty,green eyes and all
I see you two kissing and it broke me to the core
I never really understood how this came about
I geuss I wasn't the one you will always be thinking about
I was your first girl,something that you will forever remember
your last girl will never love you as deep as I did
but perhaps she will be prettier then your first love after all
 Apr 2016 traumamind
Phim
Ode to Ode
 Apr 2016 traumamind
Phim
Ode to the belt
And how nice it never felt
Ode to the fist
That knew just how to make my stomach twist
Ode to the bruises
Which left no excuses
Ode to my jaw
For that punch it never quite saw
Ode to my ears
All those nights when I could hear my brothers' tears
Ode to my dad
And every time he's ever gotten mad
Ode to the world
And every obstacle its hurled
Ode to ode
And how well it never quite bode
 Apr 2016 traumamind
Jayce
The Box
 Apr 2016 traumamind
Jayce
"Put your trauma in a box, put it on a shelf, and don't acknowledge it until you're ready"
My therapist smiles at me and I feel like I might actually be losing my mind
But I go home
And I put everything she did to me in a box in my mind
And I bury it in the deepest corners where old lovers who left live
For a while, I forget
But in the midst of the night
When I'm deprived of sleep
The box jumps and thrusts itself to the front of my mind,
Causing the top to fall off -
I remember watching that movie with her
Crying with her

My own favorite movie has betrayed me and made me sick and inconsolable
I get up, grab the DVD case, break the disk into pieces
The box returns to an even deeper corner
But this time it takes a part of me with it
 Apr 2016 traumamind
saoirse
and it sounds cliche
but when I told you
I loved you
I meant it, but what
I really meant
was that I'd destroy
everything
in this world for you,
including myself
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