They robbed us!  

The one’s that told us what it means to be men…

THEY LIED!!!  

They told us feeling is wrong.
And they taught us to be STRONG is to be silent.

"Build a pit," they said, "make it so deep that a lifetime of emotion can’t fill it."  
And we oblige.  
But we know it’s there…
The stench keeps us up at night.  
The fetid fumes cloud our vision;
The windows to our souls opaque to the outside world and those we Love, those we want to reveal ourselves to.  

Meanwhile, inside, we’re clawing at the glass with bloodied hands.  

                                       GOD HELP ME!!!
                                                                ­I want to be free of this!!

See me!  
                                               I’m a human being!  

I have hopes,
         I have dreams,
                I have fears,
I feel sorrow, I know regret, and I believe in redemption…
but all of this...
It's for someone else… someone weak.  

What a lie!
So delicious we swallowed it whole—a bitter pill dipped in honey
Given us by those we love,
                                    by those we trust.  

The poison works through us,
                                         unrelenting,
T w i s t i n g us, turning us against one another…

No emotions!  
Not here!!  
You’re a man!!  
Be a man!!
**** it up!!!
          **** it up until it chokes you!!!
                   **** it up until you can’t feel anymore!!
                             **** it up until you’re dry and broken!!
                                       **** it up until you forget...
What life was and what death is…
              
                               **** it up because that’s what men do.

They corrupted our legacy
They stole our future.  
And we let them do it.  
We helped them do it.

Like so many
times before,
she went out
into the dark
and pulled it
around her--
its cloak of
          charcoal
              staining
        her fingers
as she
grasped its
deeply opaque
fabric of smoke
turning her
eyes into mirrors--
mirrors reflected
inside out, thoughts
and feelings
brash and quiet
in their subtle
points of weaving
until the cold
gleam of shards
of the onyx air
clung to her form
like an inky abyss,
the very reverse
reflection
of black snow
spilling and seeping
into her essence,
filling the weeping
in whispery presence
until all she could do
was curl into the
soft embrace
of obsidian,
surrender her soul
to the starless sky
and let
it in

Hey Jealous foolish woman
       I don't even know your name
        Mine is written on this page
           I'm not the one ashamed

        Poets singing dreams to you
         versing ink stained sheets
        You haven't really got a clue
         as they sit about your feet

        no need for Jealous words
          it's really all fair game
          Poetry and love that is
       I'll put your heart to shame

     You think you're such a mystery
         I know the kind you are
          You and I have history
            I left with open scars

        Jealousy I'm killing you
           by my Poison Pen
         Stupid thought to have
          my lil ' Jealous friend

         I might seem so naive
       but I am so much more
          I really can't believe
        you're antics such a bore

          Have some self respect
            act more dignified
              show a little class
           you need it simplified?

            go hide in a corner
       like the beaten dog you'll be
         taking nasty bites
       won't get the best of me

       You couldn't just fight fair
       I barely touched the blade
       didn't drop a bit of blood
        As down your pen is laid

Cherie Nolan © 2016

Humans have nothing at their disposal but intention
They only pass and just share their dreams an reveries
They have more stagnant contemplation than action
They pass through centuries with their pastime hobbies

Fortune favors the brave but fate sweeps the cowards
They come on stage with written scrips and pass away
A lion always dominate just on the weak jackals herds
Valiant are being dictated by the light of the eternal ray

Ordinary folk are for ordinary task extraordinary glow
Third rate remain third rate ,people who matter are great
Stage is set by very many but only one is master of show
Constant struggle is hallmark fortune doesn't come in plate

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow

I think trauma is a strange word.
I was probably twelve or thirteen when I first heard it - oh yeah, it's when you get really hurt, right?

Blood and guts everywhere.

Thank goodness that doctors exist.
They can patch you up and make you whole again.

"Incoming trauma! All hands on deck!"

I think it's a strange word because, supposedly, trauma is what happened to me. But that can't be right, can it?

I imagine myself being rolled into a hospital on a stretcher, doctors and nurses taking me from paramedics.

"Eighteen year old female suffering from internal cardiovascular and neuro injuries. Speech and sight is impaired."

I'm okay. What are you talking about? All I did was love two people.

"Injuries are consistent with loving parents that don't love you in return."

Wait, what? No, my parents love me!

My dad likes to drink sometimes but at least he doesn't act unpredictable anymore when I suggest he go to bed.

Well, there was that one time he fell down the stairs. Also the time he peed on me while I was sleeping because he believed my room was the bathroom.

But my mom is okay! She likes to leave a lot and there were those times she had loud *** with strangers in the room next to mine late at night. But she's good, I swear. Even when she had chlamydia and I held her while she cried.

Even when she left and never came back.

"I need a crash cart in here! Patient is bleeding out and her blood pressure is dropping - "

I'm fine, I swear.
All I did was love them.

Wait, hang on!
What about that time my parents argued and my dad tried to choke my mom to death?
I mean...I did run away from the house, crying, to find our neighbor.
I did beg her to call the police.

But that's not trauma, right?
I just wanted them to stop yelling. I just wanted him to let her go before she stopped breathing.

That's love.

"Paddles, please! Charge to three hundred..."
"Clear!"

These doctors really don't know anything.

lazily lost
to crony capitalism
corporate cobwebs
hunger
unsatisfied
first come served
rich get richer
walls get bigger
the river deeper
the gap is wider
the poor get
poorer
the black get blacker
the rift grows wider
the police get narrower
shootings
more common
more people dying
politicians
appear more frequent
on the TV
and nothing gets better
solved
are the next elections
nothing more