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briannah rae Oct 2017
how
do i write
a poem
about what
i'm feeling when
i
don't
know.
i am numb
to the world
and everything
in it.
i don't feel
sad.
i am past that.
i've reached
the point
when sadness
isn't strong
enough.
i don't know
what to do anymore.
i don't know
how to live.
i don't know
how to feel.
31 Day Writing Challenge
Your Feelings
briannah rae Oct 2017
it's been
one year
since you
dumped me
and i
didn't think
i would
make it
another day
but here
i am
one year
later and
i have
never felt
more free.
  Oct 2017 briannah rae
LightShade
*
I loved him

so much

yet

it
wasn't
e n o u g h
to make
him

S t a y
...
it was all I had, and it wasn't enough
briannah rae Sep 2017
"you look
like hell,"
he said,
the cigarette dangling
from his tanned fingers.
"you are hell,"
i whispered back,
my voice shaking
like the earthquake
that destroyed mexico.
the cigarette slipped
from his fingers
and fell to
the ground.
i quickly
crushed it with
the toe
of my boot,
looking up
at him
with challenging eyes.
"i gave you
everything,"
he growled,
his fists
clenched at his sides.
"you gave me
more bad
than good,"
i said,
and with that
received one of those
fists
at my nose.
i fell to
the floor,
blood pouring out
and gathering
in a puddle
by my face.
i lay there,
a motionless lump,
tears streaming
down my cheeks
as i am
kicked,
punched,
screamed at,
spat at.
there are chunks
of hair missing
from where he
ripped them
from my head.
bruises
and cuts
decorate my hole body
like a disturbed
christmas tree.
"apalogize
for what you said,"
he snarled,
his foot
dangerously close
to my
already bleeding face.
"i'm so sorry,"
i whispered,
the world a shade
of black
and white.
"i didn't
mean it."
he nodded
his head
slightly.
"tell me
you love me,"
he said,
an eyebrow
raised.
"i love you,"
i whimpered,
grabbing
his outstretched hand
and wincing
in pain
as he pulled me up.
"i love you too,"
he angled
my chin up
and pressed his lips
to mine,
then pulling away
suddenly and spitting
out some blood
from my mouth
with a chuckle.
he returned to kissing me.
didn't the bible say
the devil was
deceitful?
****THIS IS NOT BASED ON A TRUE STORY****
  Sep 2017 briannah rae
h m w
He smiled at me and said 'here, take this'

It was a happy little pill of his and it would feel bliss

I smiled and gave him a kiss saying, 'thank you baby'

But what happened next forever will drive me crazy

Next thing you know I was spinning in my head

Then he wanted to bring me to a bed

His friends walked in and wanted more

So they all called me a ‘***** little *****’

My body was numb and I couldn’t move

I let out a scream but they didn’t approve

Everything went black but then again I woke

But to them it was nothing but a funny little joke

They locked me inside of a walk in closet

So if there was a stir I sure wouldn’t cause it

I blacked out again and woke in a different place

Treating me as if my soul were missing and my body were a case

Still I was unable to move nor speak

But he still said he loved me and kissed me on the cheek

I counted five inhumane beings on top of me moaning

One was even playfully groaning

I was disgusted and wanted it to end

But I knew that after this my mind would never mend

By now it would have been a little past three in the morning

Earlier I should have taken that adorable face as a warning

When they realized I was sobering up

They had an alibi saying they’d call this a hookup

When I could finally move my mouth again

I realized what had happened and felt heavy chest pain

They heard that I was muttering words that were incomprehensible

They saw me as nothing more than a body and that I was dispensable

They came up with a plan to hide my body in a ditch

I even heard one say, 'she deserved it, what a stupid *****'

I hit my head when they threw me on the ground

I only saw black in front of me and around

I woke up to a woman asking if I were okay

I only said one phrase and it was that 'I was betrayed'

What happened after that is irrelevant at best

All I will say is that I was nothing but stressed

This is my story and it happened two years ago today

Nailing an image in my mind that I was a targeted prey

I know now that I hold so much more worth

And I love myself more than anything on this Earth

Just know that these words have come straight from my heart

No matter how vile and disgusting this memory is, I can never restart

So I tried to make it a poem so it seems like some kind of art.

h.m.w
I am a ****** assault victim and I never received justice.
  Sep 2017 briannah rae
Tristan Taylor
Her distinct voice
Her soft skin
Her pretty eyes
She’s a Woman
She never ceases to surprise

She looks in the mirror
Men marvel at her buxom beauty
But for some reason
Those catcalls were getting to her
She didn’t want to be just a hottie

Her red lips
Her exposed legs
Her protruding hips
Her ***** *******
Is what made her body picturesque

She professed, she knew she was cute
When men looked, she took it as a tribute
But it was getting old
She wanted to be liked for who she was
Instead of fantasizing what she looked like unclothed.

She was smart
She was driven
She had ambition
She’s a woman
She is beautiful.
Tribute to the most beautiful creation in the world...
  Sep 2017 briannah rae
Ira Desmond
Words are like sharks’ teeth—
rows upon rows of them
sitting like pews in an empty cathedral—
the light playing through the stained-glass windows of the gill slits—
glinting through the busy, flitting motes
of plankton dust.

Words are like sharks’ teeth—
endlessly guarded,
but easily discarded,
flipping like coins in an Italian fountain—
sinking into the cerulean abyss
of the Adriatic Sea.

Words are like sharks’ teeth—
a fatal phalanx
oft dismembered,
seldom remembered
except as but an evolutionary assemblage—
a prehistoric assembly line.

O, but
words are like sharks’ teeth!

The edge takes,
the point drives home—
the carnal hunger of the gums
resonates throughout the jaw,
compelling the incisors
to test their power
against the defenseless tautness
of the prey’s flesh.

The eyes roll back,
the neck jerks.
The water fills with a crimson miasma—
a hemoglobin ecstasy—

a feeling of God
flowing through the machine.

Words are like sharks’ teeth.
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