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Delaney Jun 2015
It hurts to know,
that despite everything I do,
despite how much I give;
people I love still use and abuse me.

I can never do enough.
They only take what they want
and leave the rest of me out to dry.

I try so hard.
So ******* hard,
but ******, none of them care.

They don't care.

They never have.

(d.d.b)
Delaney Jun 2015
But how many days in this past year
have I cried over what you did to me?
How many nightmares have left me breathless,
grasping for a light, and for restful sleep?
Tell me, how many flashbacks have haunted my memory?
Do you even know the multitude of conflicts
that you forced upon me?
Do you realize the significance of your thoughtless actions?

I bet you don't.
But I sure as hell do.

(d.d.b)
Today is the one year anniversary of the day I was *****. I'm still living in hell.
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.



(d.d.b)
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 hell 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.
  

                         (d.d.b)
The anniversary is coming up and I'm not ready.
Delaney Jun 2015
My fault.*

All my fault.

Dear, god, it really was all my fault.

The realization--

The mere thought--

is eating me alive like a forest fire.


(d.d.b)
Delaney Jun 2015
Kiss me like we will never meet again.
Look at me as if I am the northern lights,
and I am once in a lifetime for you to see.
Touch me as if I am a sculpture,
centuries old and coveted.
Love me as if I am the only thing
capable of obsorbing that love,
and darling, I live off of it.


(d.d.b)
Delaney May 2015
How?
Oh, logically, how?
Am I truly meant
to waste each day
on subjects I have no interest of?
Teach me.
Teach me how to love myself.
Teach me to soar, to succeed.
Tell me how to rid myself
of my lethargic atmosphere.
Only then,
will I appreciate the knowledge
of elements, equations, and events.
Please,
teach me the way to loving myself.

(d.d.b)
Delaney Jun 2015
I told you that I would stop hurting myself,
and you told me you loved me.

I guess we both lied.



(d.d.b)
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?

(d.d.b)
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.

(d.d.b)
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.


(d.d.b)
Delaney Jun 2017
Mesmerizing never described
me in any sense
of the word.

I have only ever been
sharp corners
and dark shadows;
never the light
in a room.

No one brightens
at my presence, no
I do not inflict joyful
inclinations. For I
have only ever been
the background--
only ever meant to be
in the back of rooms,
removed from the crowd,
invisible.

-db
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.
Besides...
perhaps it's a punishment, too.
One that I deserve.


(d.d.b)
Delaney May 2015
Occasionally,
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.


(d.d.b)
Delaney Jun 2015
Sighs escape my lips.
Tears escape my eyes.
You escaped from life, and now...
I wish we were side by side.


(d.d.b)
Even I'm not sure exactly who I wrote this about. Mainly, its about me missing my brother who died three years ago.
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.
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.

(d.d.b)
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.

(d.d.b)
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.


(d.d.b)
Delaney Jun 2015
They don't understand.
I am afraid to go to sleep.
The nightmares are so detrimental,
that despite complete exhaustion,
I am afraid to go to sleep.

(d.d.b)
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.

(d.d.b)
Delaney Jun 2017
Perhaps if I
can refrain
from asking,
I might never know
just how much
is so
inherently wrong
with me.


d.b
Delaney Feb 2017
and it is never so apparent
as when
they pick a him, over me.
Worry about a boy, over me;
never me,
never me.

What are you doing
to him, they scream.
worry about his life
before your own.
who cares, who cares?
you surely don't, no,
you put yourself first
and that is not okay, young lady,
not okay,
never okay.

the hearts of boys matter
far more than the fragile mess
filling your chest cavity, yes,
it matters not what they did,
what they do,
how you feel,
them. Them, only,
only for them does it matter.

plaster on a smile,
false positive, love more, care more.
your fault. you made
this happen
to you.
never their fault, no,
never theirs,
for your actions are the problem, see,
young lady, you must compromise;
for the boys,
the boys who matter
much more, forever,
than you.


(d.d.b)
This might only ever make sense to me, and I might never share the backstories of this....but, here.
Delaney Sep 2015
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.
Delaney Jun 2015
You're the one who violated my body,
yet somehow,
I'm the one who's always been apologizing for it.

(d.d.b)
Delaney Jun 2015
I'm the pollen left behind
after a bee takes a drink.
I'm the bark that crumbles
on a dead tree.
I resemble a dingy penny
dropped and forgotten
in an abandoned parking lot.

I am nothing but a left over;
a mere after thought, if anything.
I serve no purpose.


(d.d.b)
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.

(d.d.b)
this feels unfinished but whatever
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.


(d.d.b)
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.

(d.d.b)
this sounds so romantic but I wrote it about fictional characters being in love with each other...
Delaney May 2015
If you ever want to **** me, ***,
                                       don't be surprised
                                                    whe­n I hand you the gun.


                               (d.d.b)
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.
Delaney Aug 2015
There's a hurricane named after you,
and I've never heard of anything more fitting.*

(d.d.b)
Delaney Jun 2015
I hear them as I walk the halls.
I see the look in their eyes.
"Wrong"
"Gross"
"Disgusting"
and for them,
all those words are synonymous
with who I am.
That (for some reason) hated word.
"Lesbian."
Yes, I am a lesbian.
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?

(d.d.b)
I'm a lesbian and I live in a conservative, small town. You can imagine what my life is like.
Delaney Jun 2015
I injected you,
   and I swallowed you.
I drank you,
   and I snorted you.

Little bits of you
course through my viens.
My blood;
darling, my blood is the pigment
of your skin.

You forever exist in my body,
and my nervous system is hightened
solely by you.

My love, you maketh me.


(d.d.b)
Delaney May 2015
Time is far too short.
Especially when everyday
is a vulnerable struggle.
To get up,
to breathe.
To talk,
to appear calm and 'normal.'
Life is too short
for each moment
to be wasted
on conforming with a society
that I will never belong to.
Life is slow,
and meaningless,
when a time so short
is spent on a desire to fit in.

(d.d.b)
Delaney Feb 2017
I'm so tired of crying in bathroom stalls and wiping the tears furiously away and never ever being liked and never ever being good enough and always getting laughed at and always failing and I'm so tired of being tired

d.d.b
Delaney Jun 2016
Cannot breathe,
around you.
Cannot speak,
around you.
Cannot bear to be,
around you.

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.

(d.d.b)
Delaney May 2015
There is so much I want to say
but I do not have the voice
to let the words flow.
There is so much I want to do
but I do not have the will
to allow myself to continue on
in such a state as the one
that I am existing in.

(d.d.b)
This is an older poem of mine but it just shows that sometimes I really want to give up.
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.
Please.
Let it only have been mine.
No one else deserves this hell.


(d.d.b)
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.


(d.d.b)
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)
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.


(d.d.b)
I took ten shots yesterday and it still didn't do a **** thing.
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;
hell, 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
alone.

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

(d.d.b)

— The End —