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Ottar Mar 2015
Aches get real old
                         Sold a bill of goods,
five and dime, cold
                          Rolled coins into a tube, into a fist,
A flurry of flesh dolled,
                            A toll on burning bridges that LOVE built,
My revealing stainless pole dance
                Upon the vocal shoals, that cut me off from feeling real,
Ended up a blackened coal sheep
               Of the family role model (let that creep into)
                         Your soul

   My
Heart
Was
Washed
Away
By
Some
One
Else's
Tears
Nope not what you are thinking...
Rangzona  Aug 2014
Untitled
Rangzona Aug 2014
Constent sound
That's all I hear bickering
They say it's not there
That I'm a white boy ther be nouthing wroung with me
They say all I seek Is atenten
That can't be it since I suffer in silence, cry alone, and to finely stifle the noise, I Speek allowed to them so at less one voice would exit the 9th layer of hell I call my mand
They will never see and I will never Speeking of the voices which drive my imaginations into contplations of zombie ends and thretical debates,  that will shake your minds, hell it cripples mine, the constant debates of there's ******* my mind,  so all I can do is stifle those two words that would not make a lick of a difference, for if I let them slip people will just look at me, and think I'm rebelling "o he's a white boy, he must think our talking is beneath him, he will never know true pain like us minorities"
Ye,ah That's me the majority seeking ******* of minority, causing hell since I never experience it. I am nouthing but an anarkish heaven that sees nouthing but the color of ****, a complete pestmistick
They don't under stand; hell I don't understand my mind ether but to say I'm the majority, is dead wroung, what makes them minority, collor, religion, these I been taught means nouthing and nouthing they are Becuse there thoughts, their harts binds them to all races, not one thought or filling is independent to there race, these groing minority have sunken to the idea that they be the minority but no that is me, the one who can't sit in silence, with out rocking with pain, the words "shut up" forever on my lips dripping with mumbles of zombies and flames as high as buildings with me on top of the talist yelling I'm not insain I'm not insain I'm not insain Until finally I'm lost inside the flames.
And if they knew what hell was in my mind that would be worse, they will try to find the problem with scans and question. Did your dadie **** you? Is your brain ****** up? Why don't you just stop this shirade?  
And when thier questions just lead me screem more at them than at my own head they try to fix me for now I'm a danger so they imprison me for something they coused.
So they put me on psycotic medison , and the voices they continue but easer to with stand. But I'm not me any more I'm different I loss so much but can't grasp what it is. They say I'm a success, and I agree because I want to leave. I don't tell them I still hear voices becuse I don't want them to sedate me agin. I don't tell them I've lost the intelligent young man I was or the insitefull guy that could help people with problems that he him self never had but they would not cair all they want is me to be like them because that all they wish to see.
As soon I'm out of the jail I ditch the mids and I return to my insainity. O how the voices seem to be louder as if they was ****** I locked them up..... But I'm me agin or am I them I just might be them but is that a problem i lie to my famly "yea I'm fine," " yea I took them last night," "I'm happy". They believe me not becuse they do but becuse they want to. They never saw a problem befor yea I was strange but functional but as soon as soon they heard I had a problem they jump on it for it means thay have not failed.
But they have not failed the doctors did they saw a man with a problem that need to be cured when there was only a man who had a problem that he needed to live with a problem that made him better and strange a problem that made him different.
With my problem out in the open I become better at hiding my pain until I get back to my to my apartment where I scream, cry and argue but never in that order. Nabbers never new I was different for I sound proof this place.
And that's how I lived, paying for pills I never used, never confinding in anyone for I feared of going back to jail, and I just knew if I ever got back on thouse meds that that when I get off the voices will drown me and I would not make it a night befor I just decided to end my abnormal life
Marshall Gass Nov 2014
aint got no home?
watz wit der smokey ayes
aint got no famly
no roof?
wur you goin, bro?

i aint got no dolla
no mo pahwuh
no momma
son gone stoopid
dotter freakin out
in der good

im broke and dun fer
gotta a spare coin?

i can sing
from me soul. yeah

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 10 days ago
Vladimir s Krebs Jun 2017
My mind is broke my heart screams with tears in can't cry out. My regrets follow me pouring nothing but a dreary rain cloud  pouring Frigid rain soaking me down to the bone till I go insain.  I wish I could of told you inside I'm slowly wasting away just like a graveyard filled with rotting rusty  machines.
I wish I could of told my mom is really needed her when I had the darkest days where I felt like I was suffocating.

Every ******* ******* thing I nevery told or should of said enstead  of  holding and hiding my life mistakes.

My every wound seems to fall deeper and my heart feels so heavey with all my battles I problem killed to breath.

My regrets just keeps me from stopping I rather run.
My 25 regret it wish I was able to keep strong but I feel like I rather not necessarily there for  my famly.

Butmy biggest regret is my fear of losing my mom or dad in the night if they pass away threw there sleep I'll let be broken sending me to pack a back and leave my fear is I'm bipolar and I'm scared or losing them. My every word doesn't seem to matter only my creative thoughts do.



I am filled with wounds scares all from my every single regret that is like the darkness or the smoke from cigarettes.


I am broken to the point I'm unfixable.
So I just drag myself and long taking blow by blow making me weaker ad time goes on .
I  know you have to tell your life stories bit shut the **** up if you see or I tell you my life story  you'll problem drown your self in your own tears if you look at me you'll not bear able to but stair so don't tell Meveryone our ******* story  look at my broken mind body tell me if you can fix the years of the he'll that consumed me killing me hashing my voice where I couldn't scream or breath I was traded into ****** silent only that funny side I was torched till my lungs burned with hate

So don't tell my your Bulls **** life stories just look at me and try not to drown your self in your tears just listen and know I'm note strong enough to to be fixed

My biggest regret is I'm scared to lose my mom and dad I don't know if my last Batley ids strong enough to  hold I might just shut down and fall apart

I am broken and unfortunately unfixable
Bob  Jun 2018
THE FAMILY ROOM
Bob Jun 2018
She said follow me
I'll show you to the family room
The family room
I been there before
A couple of chairs
A sink and the lights are kept dim
Plenty of tissue and I think soundproof

The family room
Where the doctor begins with I'm sorry, we did everything we could
As the chaplain stands behind him
Bible in hand waiting to ask if he can pray for you  Feeling your breath being took
****** and hurt
Yelling in shock out of fear
All the noises you would expect from the family room


The family room
Where some family comforts one another
For others it's the beginning of becoming strangers
Never come out the same as when you went in
Makes time seem as worthless as you feel
Steals a part of all who enter
Makes you cuss the heavens
And question life
Makes you pray to the Lord
And reevaluate your life
The family room
Where many promises are made then forgotten

The family room
Sits unused till the next family gets the news
The Famly Room
Francie Lynch Mar 2020
We know them best by their first names,
Names ingrained on our brains;
Mouthed by millions being slain,
By the viral ego of the politically inane.

Adolph, Idi, Kim and Pol,
Francisco, Mao and Nicol.
Other names have come and gone,
None rise so high, as Despot Don.

Tens of thousands die prematurely,
The man's bereft of human morality.
Preoccupied with re-election,
He risks a healthy population:
The aged, sick and compromised,
Won't cast a vote when they die.
The word is out throughout New York:
He ain't famly, de foykin joyk.
Last line, Bronx accent. It sounds so much nicer.
Chelsea Gravelle Sep 2019
The Drunk Driver

The moon shone so bright that night,
Casting the world in a pale blue light,
I was walking home pondering my life,
Dreaming about one day making a good wife,

The world is full of new possibilities for me,
So many things to do and places to see,
14 years old top student always did my chores,
I want to see the world walk along many beautiful shores,

Walking home through our quiet small town,
My life just beginning nothing can get me down,
There is so much potential so much life for me yet,
My life is so full at the beginning of the path I would set,

Walking home along the dark and short highway,
It was getting late at my friends i didnt want to stay,
Only the moon in the sky shinning light,
On what happened to me that fateful night,

Walking along i see the car coming fast,
It was over in a second no fear to last,
How could this happen why couldnt he see,
I had a refletor on my back pack. Why did he hit me?,

I am dead as dead as one person possibley could be,
It will be a bit before anyone finds the dead me,
He didn’t stop the car. Why didn’t he care,
How can this one person be so selfish so unfair,

My spirit soars high into the dark windless night,
Full of grief for a full life lost lost under the pale moon light,
Angry confused i need to know why as my spirit follows the car,
I watch as pull is car up in front of Longhorn the only local bar,

He staggers out of the car so drunk completly unaware,
He stupidity took my future and he just really didn’t care,
He looks at the car he knows he hit something I doubt he know its me,
He is so drunk he passed out took the life I was ment to see

He is known in this bar even i regonize him as he orders a whisky shot,
Frank the bartender know he is the town drunk he drinks alot,
He trips on his feet and laughs heartily as he almost falls down,
He is a drunk and i hate him acting like a drunken clown,
He looks at  Frank he says “On my way here I hit a big animal probably a dear,"
As he asks Frank to get him his shot and add on a beer,
Frank says angirly  “You stupid drunk you better not have drove here,”
“So what if i did.” He mumbles confirming Franks growing fear,
I try to shout at him tell him what he already know he has to do,
Its like he looks right at my sprit and in that instant he knew,

“Where did you hit her,” he demands as he smashed his beer,
He says with a chuckle “Hey frank i never said it was femlale dear,
“Just tell me where it was and hope to god my gut feeling isnt right,
If it is ill make sure that I ruin your life you will never forget this night,”
He can barley hold his head up  he mumbles to where he hit me,
Frank prays he is wrong but his instinct tells him what he is going to see,

He goes outside looks at the damage that my body did to the car,
He tells his wife his has to go out that she is in charge of the bar,
I follow him back to my broken body he knew all along it was me,
He knew i should have had a future his sadness for the loss plain to see,

Small town living he know how to reach my famly and my best friiend,
He calls  911 even though he knows i have already met a tragic end,
I watch as those closet to me feel an itense grief full of heavy emitional pain,
The tears leaving streaks on thier faces as they fall steady like rain,

The town drunk tried to run he snuck out into the pale moon light,
He went unpunished never seen in town again after that tragic night,
My family will never be the same missing me every single day,
Always wondering what could have been if my life wasn't cut short this way,
At only 14 my life ended needlessly snuffed out by a drunk driver,
Like many other victims of alcohol I wasn’t one of the suvivors.

Copyright 2019
Written by Chelsea Gravelle

— The End —