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Delaney Aug 2015
But is it really such a crime?
Avoidance, that is.
I wouldn't call it isolation,
nor anti-social behavior.

Perhaps I just enjoy the quiet
and the decrease in anxiety
a bit more
than mindless chatter
and having to worry about everything I say.

Please, darling,understand this one thing.
I'll avoid people quite often until my last breath.
Only under this circumstance shall I function semi-correctly.

11.6k · Jul 2015
ptsd didn't come with a manual
Delaney Jul 2015
but how do I explain to her that even though I know
that it's her hands touching me
I swear I can feel his?

How will I explain to her, whoever she may be,
that I will wake up at night screaming from the memory
of being pinned down by him?

I don't know how to explain it.
How do you explain it?

4.3k · Jun 2015
a much more accurate name
Delaney Jun 2015
is my stepmother's name
in my phone.
If that doesn't explain
our relationship,
then I don't know what does.

Delaney Jun 2015
you touched me again in my dream last night,
and I swear I woke up screaming*

I still can't get him out of my head and it hurts.
3.5k · Jun 2015
Don't Call Me Crazy
Delaney Jun 2015
They say I'm crazy,
but if that's the case,
then what does that make them?
Becuase it sure as **** isn't sane.

Delaney Jun 2015
I have to be strong for other people.*

This is all that I know.

I cannot, must not, break down
in front of another human.  
My pain takes a backseat to theirs.
Cast aside, on my own comand.

I still feel the pain, however.
And when I'm alone...
Sometimes, when alone,
I remember.
I break.
I hurt.

Then I walk out.
Ready to take on another person's burdens.

(d d.b)
2.0k · May 2015
An Open Book for Exploration
Delaney May 2015
See me.
Not the facade I pose,
The true me.
Explore my indecorous soul
instead of getting lost at my mask
of calm, mild delight.
That, my dear friend,
is the facade.
See me.
Dive into the abyss,
of melancholy thoughts
and elaborate dreams.
Breathe in my imperfections.
They are plentiful.
see me.

1.5k · Jun 2015
Delaney Jun 2015
I don't wish harm on people

to the guy who stole my innocence,
I hope you know that I wake up at night
screaming from the nightmares
of what you did to me.
You, you ******* monster,
who thought it was okay to ignore me
when I told you "no."
Who thought it was okay to pin me down
on my own **** bed.
I hope you get justice,
however it may come.
The courts aren't listening to me,
but you'll get what's coming.
You have to.
It isn't fair if you don't.

I don't wish harm on people
Maybe you're the one exception.

1.5k · Jul 2015
Delaney Jul 2015
But, darling, no one is understanding this.
My abilities are flowers and you're picking off all the petals
before I even have time to grow more.
My brain is a garden that I can only water when I'm alone,
so please understand that I will wilt and dry out when exposed
to too much social interaction for too long of a time.
I need time to recuperate, to grow, to freshen up.
Because a flower is no fun when it's wilted, and all the petals are gone.

1.4k · Aug 2015
Delaney Aug 2015
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.

fun fact: this happened to me today and I'm in ****
1.4k · Jun 2015
Why We Stopped Talking
Delaney Jun 2015
You told me my words were like cold, sweet milk,
flowing so elegantly into your mouth
on a hot summer's day.
But, I guess, somewhere along the way,
you became lactose intolerant.

Delaney Jun 2015
People say,
I should be over it.
"It was, like, a year ago. Stop being so afraid."
Don't you people see?
A year ago is all too close to me.
(and, for the record-- it's 11 months and 6 days)
How do you just 'get over' the loss of your peace of mind?
I sure as **** haven't figured it out.
I still see him
in my nightmares,
in the flashbacks.
Some people think I actually am over it.
But I know that I am not.
I flinch when others touch me without warning,
I cannot open the front door,
I'm unable to walk down the street.
I'm so hyper aware of what happened to me.
I swear, he is buried in my sheets.

So don't tell me to get over it.
Unless you can somehow tell me how.

The anniversary is coming up and I'm not ready.
1.4k · Jun 2015
The Irony
Delaney Jun 2015
You're the one who violated my body,
yet somehow,
I'm the one who's always been apologizing for it.

1.2k · Jun 2015
Delaney Jun 2015
Ten shots of tequila
can sure make me numb,
but it didn't erase everything.
I sobered up too quickly,
and still had flashbacks of you
in my sleep.
Alcohol isn't the answer,
but, I drank it anyway.

I took ten shots yesterday and it still didn't do a **** thing.
1.1k · Jun 2015
Sharp Self Destruction
Delaney Jun 2015
It's been a few years,
since I picked up that blade
determined to slice the sadness
out of my viens.
Ridges and indentions
of scar tissue
litter my body.
Yet, even now,
when I get really down,
I still want to add to my collection.
I am starkly aware
that it's not right,
not at all; but,
nothing else works quite as well.
perhaps it's a punishment, too.
One that I deserve.

1.1k · Jun 2016
Too Close
Delaney Jun 2016
Cannot breathe,
around you.
Cannot speak,
around you.
Cannot bear to be,
around you.

You, who tore my soul
in such a detrimental way.
you, who violated the frail
body underneath you.

Let me live, I beg,
let me breathe.
Go away, for god sakes,
please go away.

1.1k · Jun 2015
Late Night Thoughts
Delaney Jun 2015
My eyes are weary
and teary.
My smile is faded
and painted.
My heart is torn
and forlorn.

I'm broken, dear.
Far too broken, I fear.

1.0k · Jun 2015
I Can't Press Delete
Delaney Jun 2015
Old text messages are the devil
Because they show that one day
it was *"Let's go get coffee together."

And that day led to making out,
behind a shed neither of us owned.
They show that the next week,
you were on your way over
to my house.  
"On my way."
And that day...
oh, god, that day...
I trusted you.
I said no.
My trust was misplaced.
You violated me anyway.
They show that you kept in contact;
you texted me daily for a month after.
As if nothing happened.
As if my life hadn't been torn apart.
"I love you."
"You want to get coffee again?"

1.0k · Jul 2016
Small Town
Delaney Jul 2016
I'd rather walk
a city street;
where, at least,
the people passing do not
know my name,
much more than
I would enjoy
walking into
my local grocery store:
where I am
too visible.
1.0k · Jun 2015
Delaney Jun 2015
Secrets are my amplifier.
They burn in my heart like a forest fire.
I am made of those closeted items
they live in me like I'm their phylum.
For only I can keep such dark whispers
hid inside with painful shivers.
Speaking as the queen of hiding
I can assure that it is only time you are biding.
If you believe you can keep silent
think again, because the thoughts get violent.
Secret keeping is not for the faint of heart
it is, in fact, a sacred art.

989 · Jun 2015
Delaney Jun 2015
It is dangerous to be me.
My life is a hazard,
but it didn't come with a warning sign.

No, it stays hidden from most,
but I know the truth.
My mind is permanently set
on self-destruct mode.
There is no off switch.

It is dangerous to be me.
Caution: Keep Away.

908 · Jan 2016
A Mess
Delaney Jan 2016
and i wonder if we spoke today
you might deny it all.
I wonder if you might care
to hear about
the flashbacks;
the nightmares, the fear.
Do you think about how
it must affect me
that I have to face you every day?

Don't think
I can take it
much longer, anyway.
You burn my eyes,
your voice curses my ears.
Your smile swallows me whole
and I wonder,
I truly wonder,
do you even regret it at all?
A mess of thoughts about my ******.
894 · Jun 2015
Be My Needle
Delaney Jun 2015
My heart is a pin cushion.
Various people have stuck needles
into it; but that's its purpose.
That's the good part.

The bad part, you see,
is when the needles are taken out.
I no longer have a meaning,
and I no longer feel loved
or useful.

Because what is a pin cushion
without needles?
I've got the holes
where they once were,
but that is all I have.

My heart is a petty, scarred
little pin cushion.
And there aren't any needles in sight.

891 · Jun 2015
The Whispers
Delaney Jun 2015
I hear them as I walk the halls.
I see the look in their eyes.
and for them,
all those words are synonymous
with who I am.
That (for some reason) hated word.
Yes, I am a *******.
I like the taste of a girl far more than a guy,
but why does that make me wrong?
Please, someone explain.
Why. Am. I. So. Wrong?

I'm a ******* and I live in a conservative, small town. You can imagine what my life is like.
849 · Jun 2015
keep me awake
Delaney Jun 2015
I don't want to fall asleep becuase I know you'll be in my nightmares

Your touch.
Your voice.
Your sly smile.

The way you always take "No"
to mean "Yes."

I fight the unconciousness my body craves to save my mind from the vicious terror that is the memory of you*

He is in my nightmares and I honestly want to stay awake forever to keep them away.
757 · Mar 2017
Delaney Mar 2017
if every year of my life
were a chapter
and I could only remove one
from my story:
I would tear out chapter 14.

I would rip all the pages,
mutilate beyond repair,
shred. Shred shred shred
burn burn burn until
nothing was left but ashes.

14, when I was naive.
14, when I thought kissing a boy
would make even me think that I
was straight, 14
when a hot summer event suddenly
burned me hotter than the sun
ever could, because
at 14, a boy I called friend
didn’t listen.

14, he’s in my house,
14, he’s in my room,
14, he’s on top of me,
14, he’s forcing his way in me and I…
I am telling him to stop.

14, my cries go ignored,
14, he’s stronger than me,
14, my parents aren’t home,
14, I didn’t tell anyone he was coming,
14, he could hurt me if I run,
14…where would I even run to?

Shame; Shame because 14
is the story of when I said stop…
and then stopped trying to stop
what I wanted to stop and had asked
for to stop in the first place but
he did not listen to the word

14, when fear paralyzed me.
14, when what was less than an hour
felt like a lifetime. 14
was crying when he finally left,
14 was seeing blood and knowing
it wasn’t my menstrual cycle.
14 was when my whole life

In chapter 14 I had innocence
stolen. In 14 I started high school;
where I had two classes with him

14 was acting like it was fine,
I was fine, it was all fine,
until it wasn’t, and
14 was police reports and questions
and being accused of lying,
14 was “He’ll get what’s coming to him.”
But we are chapters away from that now and
justice has never once been applied, and
he roams free and
I still feel trapped under his body.

Chapter 14 would be entitled
and I would erase it from my story
if only such an action
were possible.

This is likely the most personal thing I've ever written.
733 · Dec 2015
Some Nights
Delaney Dec 2015
Some nights I find you
on the ceiling, while I lie in bed.
Your face looms over me,
a haunting memory.

Some nights you're in the blankets,
the same ones you once touched,
and I swear,
they still have your scent.

Some nights, truly bad nights,
you reside only in my mind.
Thoughts of you intertwine with my nerves,
they send my system into overdrive,
they attack so forcefully,
I am left gasping for air.

Some nights,
it's crippling flashbacks,
glasses of warm milk
while curled on the bathroom floor;
my attempt at self care.

Some nights,
sleep feigns peace before transforming
into horrid nightmares.
Tears spill, screams emitting,
I drown in vivid images of you.

Some nights,
I cannot decide whether being awake
or being asleep
will cause more pain.

711 · Jan 2016
There Is Always Two Of Us
Delaney Jan 2016
Have you noticed,
my dear,
that our life together
will live on forever?

Can you see it?
It is our destiny,
if you believe
in such a concept.

this sounds so romantic but I wrote it about fictional characters being in love with each other...
677 · Jun 2015
Reeling Thoughts
Delaney Jun 2015
Sadness, you see,
is supposedly the absence of happiness.

The irony of my sadness,
is that I never felt the happiness.
Not once;
not at all.

One can argue, then
is it really sadness that I feel?
Or is it simply
my state of being?

Either way,
whatever it is,
it sincerely hurts.

Delaney May 2015
I feel like a light bulb.
One that has been flickering
for many years.
One that is close to burning out,
yet no one truly cares,
because when I do
I will simply be replaced
by something much brighter
and much better
than I.

646 · Jun 2015
Delaney Jun 2015
Rain is falling.

   Thunder is crashing.

        Lightening is striking.

That's a daily;

    How can it not be?

        This isn't just a storm.

Electricity and precipitation?

    Honey, they aren't from the sky;

         Not tonight.

Tonight, you inquire?

   That's sad but simple, you see,

        The storm comes from the heart

         inside of me.

639 · Sep 2015
Danger Eyes
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.
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.

615 · Aug 2015
The Truth
Delaney Aug 2015
There's a hurricane named after you,
and I've never heard of anything more fitting.*

Delaney Jun 2015
Why do people lie,
about such serious things?

"Your case will be looked at."
"He'll be brought to justice."
"No one is angry at you."
"It's not your fault."

Those things were said,
but I swear,
none of them were meant.
Because it's been seven months since I reported him,
and not a **** thing has happened in my favor.

My case hasn't even hit the district attorney,
and either way, I've been told it most likely won't pass.

My ****** gets to walk free;
free to violate other women,
and free for me to have to see him often
in this annoyingly small town.

My parents are ashamed.
We don't talk about it anymore;
****, we hardly ever did.
They were angry at me.
Not him.
Never him.

All I've been shown,
is that it's my fault for letting him inside.
It's my fault for befriending him.
It's my fault that he didn't listen when I said no.

I fear this situation will never be resolved,
and I am forever cursed to carry this burden

So don't lie to me about such things.
Because I'll see the truth anyways.  

601 · Jul 2015
Moving On
Delaney Jul 2015
Is 'Moving On' a reality?
Or merely a fantasy?
It feels like the latter,
because no matter what I try--
I still can't get the thought of you out of my head.

You plague my thoughts like an infectious disease.
Everyday your face is there, reminding me--
torturing me.

'Moving On' feels like some cruel fairy tale of false hope,
and I was just dumb enough to fall for the idea momentarily.
Hook, line, and sinker.

597 · Mar 2017
The Line
Delaney Mar 2017
i walk the line.
i walk the line of death
and living
and i do not know
which way to lean.

i tell lies through my teeth--
i teeter on the edge of oblivion.
the unknown beckons amidst
the anguish festering within.

nightfall claws at memories;
darkness engulfs as thoughts
surface, race, remind-
and i wonder how easy
a step to the left, down into
death, might be.

this feels unfinished but whatever
Delaney Jun 2015
Will it ever makes sense?
      it doesn't make sense
Will I every be okay?
      I'm not okay
Will this pain ever end?
      God, there's so much pain...

563 · Dec 2015
The Truth
Delaney Dec 2015
I cannot get you
out of my mind.
You course through my veins
and I slice them to bleed you out, yet,
I can never cut deep enough
to rid my cells of you.
What you did to me
stains my brain,
clouds my thoughts,
incorporates flashbacks
into my everyday life.
Get over it, get over it,
they scream,
but they cannot begin
to understand.
You are a disease
with no cure,
and you infected every god forsaken inch
of my body.
560 · Jun 2015
what ifs will kill you
Delaney Jun 2015
It mesmerizes me,
that out of all the people
you chose me as your target.
But am I the only one?
Am I the only violation
that you have caused?
I hope, for once,
that in this instance
I am alone in this.
Don't rip away anyone else's
peace of mind.
Let it only have been mine.
No one else deserves this ****.

Delaney Jun 2017
Open a can in front of her
and then ask her why
she flinches
at the sound.

Ask her why
the mere scent of beer
coaxes stomach acid up
her throat.

Go on, ask her why
her childhood memories
are tainted
by an alcoholic fog.

Ask her why 'father'
is a six letter word,
and each letter
is holding a 30-pack of misery.

558 · Dec 2015
Delaney Dec 2015
I feel
forbidden to live properly.

I feel
like a waste of oxygen consumption.

I feel
shackled to my insecurities.

I feel
as if I no longer want to feel at all.

554 · Jun 2015
A Testimony To You
Delaney Jun 2015
Was I too complex for you?
Tell me, what is it that I did wrong?
I know it must of been a lot,
For you to throw me away to rot.
You scream words of hatred,
while I cry tears of grief.
Grievence for the love
that we once shared.
It was a passionate,
beautiful love.
A love that along the way
became one sided.
I will always love you, my dear.
You could stab me
and I'd apologize
for bloodying up your knife.
I apologize everyday.
I wasn't enough.
I wish I had been.

Sometimes I still think of her.
Delaney Jun 2017
And oh,
it is almost
the same.

Unconscious, I have dreams:
and they are, usually, infected;
tainted by, and only
by: you.

Perhaps my tattered
subconscious cannot seem
to let go.
No, I suppose,
I cannot forget nor forgive
just how detrimental
an impact you had
upon my fractured soul.

Perhaps this is why
in all my dreams
I always see
You're in the shadows,
always lurking, always
ready; ready to hurt me
a million times over
and over
and over
and over again, and god,
you really never left
this bed, did you?

504 · Jun 2016
Delaney Jun 2016
the screams
still caught in my throat
from that day;
want to let them out,
to cry,
be louder.

what if
I'd been louder?
could it have saved
my soul from
being torn
that day?

can still hear it,
your breathing;
can still feel it,
you pushing
me down.

can still remember;
oh, how I remember.

504 · Jun 2015
The Memories
Delaney Jun 2015
The memories are killing me.
They drown me,
as if I am tied down
with thousands of pounds
and have been thrown
into the ocean.
The memories haunt me.
Like a spider you see
out of the corner of your eye
but can't quite reach to ****.
The memories consume me.
They envelop my soul
with dark, thick smoke
and leave me struggling to live.

Take away the memories.
They are becoming me.

499 · Jun 2015
Delaney Jun 2015
I cannot, for the life of me, get over it.

I cannot, no matter how hard I try, forget what happened.

It is killing me.

It is destroying me.

483 · May 2015
Delaney May 2015
My brain is a flower,
and right now,
among the multitude
of anxiety attacks,
and copious amounts of stress,
I feel as if

478 · Jun 2015
Status: Drained
Delaney Jun 2015
Prolonged social exposure
exhausts me.
It sets my mind on fire,
but in all the wrong places.
I lose interest too quickly
for small talk,
and lack of intellectual conversation.
A little is fine, beleive me,
But I can't stress it enough,
prolonged social exposure
exhausts me.

477 · Jun 2015
In Actuality
Delaney Jun 2015
I am the epitome
of what you do not want
in a
I appear to be on a different level,
My own little isolation.
I apologize profusely.
I am not what anyone wants.

465 · Jun 2015
Delaney Jun 2015
I don't know which is worse.
The event that took place,
or everything that happened thereafter.

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