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A generation force-fed beautiful lies
more desirable than their own lives.

Touchscreen dreams and virtual societies
keep the mass' minds dry and occupied.

Their bodies malnourished and deprived
from all of those
delicious GMOs

Wake up, humanity, and
smell the final rose.
 Jan 2015 Elizabeth Gonzalez
g
she closes her eyes
as the nightmares flash
she screams
and wake up in cold sweat

her heartbeat accelerates
as she glances furtively
around her dark room
frightened and terrified

as she lies back on her bed
she keeps her eyes open
in fear of the dark
the unknown lurking there

yet another night of hers
where her sleep was disrupted
just like any other nights
its a wonder how she hasn't gotten used to it

she prayed and wished
to escape this state of insomnia
even if it was comatose
she wouldn't mind
its 3:29am and i feel like this person except i don't get nightmares and my insomnia is self-inflicted.
Can't sleep, it's always the same.
I get to my room, exhausted, lie in my bed,
Close my eyes and the Sleepless Fairy
decides to take the reins of the situation.

Maybe if I go to my computer and surf for a while
I could doze off. Maybe I'll go out and have a cigarette
to calm the Fairy. No, this insomnia is different. I can't fix it
with simple solutions.

This wakefulness is not due to the anxiety of an exam,
or the diffidence I have for that one girl I can't get out
of my head. This insomnia is that small sparkle of
uncertainty that has abounded my mind for a long time.
That feeling of vagueness, of yearning. Yearning of what?
I don't know.

It is simply that feeling that I'm missing something,
whatever it is. I go around the whole day in my mind,
what am I missing? What am I forgetting?

During the day I'm acquiescent, lucid, happy.
But come night... time to go to bed.
Time to perform the daily check for recent events.
Catalog the occurrences with different feelings,
accommodated to their respective memories.

But there's something missing.

I curse the Fairy and its 1001 tricks that keep me
awake and conscious about that which is in the
subconscious.

Will the day come when the Fairy shows up no more?

As long as that feeling is housed in me, like a parasite
clogged on its new victim, the Fairy will keep visiting.
I want to write a
beautiful poem
to tell you
I'm going to
**** myself.

But there are
No words
beautiful enough
to describe to you
the way
I'm about to die.
 Jan 2015 Elizabeth Gonzalez
axr
war
 Jan 2015 Elizabeth Gonzalez
axr
war
'Young lady, why is your poetry so dark?'
I don't know good sir, it's probably because I have my insides at war.
Legit question asked to me today
Deep inside me lives a monster.
He likes to hug me and tell me everything is all right.

My mom and my friends say that he is gonna make me do bad things, that´s not true.
My Doctor calls him Paranoia.

Sometimes he screams and I scream with him full of fear, Then when he stops he says he love me wiping away my tears.

He says he need blood to live, but i´m not sad because of that. I´m sad because now i´m the monster, now i´m the one who lives inside him.
This world
is chaulk full of abuse
Kids bully
from early youth
Learning from angry parents
It's a tradition
Handed down
generation
to
generation
Someone please
Break the cycle
Learn to discipline
with love
Tolerate in peace
Learn to understand
Children are gifts from above
Do what you should
Pay attention
Gain respect  
with unconditional love
Smiling politely in the local store,
another happy shopper that most would ignore,
but what torrid secrets lay under her grin
the tainted stigma of that hidden sin,

she wraps up her fears with the things that she’s bought,
packed into bags without a thought,
the knots in her stomach drive her insane,
for she knows that tonight there’ll  be anguish and pain,

She drinks her coffee and stares at the clock,
It’s ticking hands seem to laugh and mock,
her doleful eyes are starting to mist,
as she thinks of the bruises made by his fist,

Violently  thrown onto a bed,
pinned down and stifled as if she was dead,
pretends not to feel the hatred and pain,
as her virtue is stolen again and again,

She’s sick of the broken promises and lies,
prays to a God who never replies ,
Its all tucked away where no one can see,
longing for the day that her soul will be free.
I wrote this for my Niece who was a victim of domestic violence and abuse from her husband, she suffered in silence for over 4 years.  It also speaks out for anyone who is going through this right now or has also been a victim.  I hope you will read this and realize that you don't need to suffer alone and that there is a way out, my niece is now on the road to recovery and has a new loving, caring partner.
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