Delaney

Delaney Sep 2015

I was unaware
of the danger coming my way
the first time our eyes met.
A simple glimpse,
a shy smile;
how was I to know?

Perhaps I should have seen it
in the way you looked too long,
too penetratingly, too diligently;
but, it turns out, I did not.

We gazed
a plethora of times,
before I accurately learned who you were.

Your irises were a blur, frantic,
glaring down at me.
I was like an animal, imprisoned beneath your grasp.
Struggling,
crying,
why hadn’t I seen this coming?

Your eyes, no remorse,
Piercing into mine, staring,
As you stole from my soul.

I no longer look into your eyes,
although I see you every day.
Eye contact, you see, will only stand to remind.

(d.d.b)

#danger #**** #warning

Delaney Sep 2015

The Fourth Night

Four nights;
it took four nights for the nightmares to arrive.
A living tragedy, transformed;
a memory repeated in the quiet of the night.

Awaking with a scream.
Heart pounding, eyes glistening,
I think of him.

Him.
The thief of innocence.
A master of violation,
ever present in my mind.
He who stole a construct that
I cannot ever hope to reclaim.

On this fourth night,
I lay, petrified.
This room, this godforsaken room,
and this godforsaken bed,
are both a crime scene.

On this fourth night,
I am only fourteen.
Living with the notion,
that to him,
“No”
had not been an acceptable answer.

(d.d.b)

Assignment in English class: Write a poem from a certain list of titles. I chose this title. This poem is entirely true for me.

#personal #nightmares #****

Delaney Aug 2015

The Truth

There's a hurricane named after you,
and I've never heard of anything more fitting.*

(d.d.b)

#hurricane

Delaney Aug 2015

Let's Talk

But it doesn't even make sense, does it?
The way we love without actually loving;
the way we look into each others eyes,
and we both know we see something deeper,
but we aren't allowed to speak.
We don't really talk about it.

You wrap your arm around me and I am paralyzed,
but I like it.
The way you smile, the way you laugh.
I swear, every cliche applies to you.
Perhaps it's wrong, I hope it's right,
and I know you see my feelings
but I don't seem to care anymore.
We don't really talk about it.

I want to kiss your lips.
I want to be able to look you in the eyes for longer
than .2 seconds,
because they are a wondrous sea of curiosity.
I want to be able to call our friendship more than that;
I want to be us.
There's just a small, miniscule problem...
We don't really talk about it.

(d.d.b.)

#love #crush #romantic #idk #attraction

Delaney Aug 2015

Flashbacks

I'm sitting in a desk,
towards the back of the room,
the first time I have a flashback about you in class.

You're sitting across the room,
but it feels as if you're breathing down my neck.
My concentration shifts from taking notes,
to an all too vivid memory.

Suddenly I'm pinned down
on my own bed
with you towering over me.

The teacher talks of hominids,
but all I hear is my own screams.
A chorus of "No"
that was heavily ignored.

My breathing is shallow,
my heartbeat is rapid.

I've missed an entire slide by the time I snap out of it.

I'm not gonna borrow the notes from you, that's for sure.

(d.d.b)

fun fact: this happened to me today and I'm in hell

#ptsd #class #**** #flashbacks #flashback

Delaney Aug 2015

Bad Combinations

My art teacher requires me to have an x-acto knife in my possession.
This, my friend, is a bad idea.
You see, she is blissfully unaware of my harmful tendencies.

But I can assure you, that if there's one thing I know,
it's that knife will be used on more than an art project.

School in itself is a trigger.
Knives and razors are the index finger that pulls said trigger,
setting off an explosion of blood along my wrist.

See, dear art teacher, that knife will hit my skin,
whether I want it to or not.
In a moment of weakness,
of stress,
I will turn to that available outlet.

I do not know what is scarier.
Having that knife with me every day,
or knowing that a twisted part of me wants to use it.

(d.d.b)

School starts in two days and it's going to be hell.

#cutting #self-harm #tw #school #knives