Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sara Reilly Mar 2016
The effects of poverty on children
&
The development of maladaptive behaviors
a.k.a survival instinct to
in victims of childhood abuse
&
In children of mothers with mental illness

See:  Schizophrenia births ******-                               affective bipolar set-up borderline personality

&
Of Broken promises and
Of divorce
on toddlers
Subject to
Hypochondriacal
Dissociative identity disorder maniacal
Munchuasen syndrome
&
Development of anorexia in girls whose mothers
tell them they are fat
And not to eat
At the age of 3
And do not keep
food in the house
&
Of memory loss on survivors of ******
**** perpetual at brother's behest
Sibling rival/sociopath/hater
Initiate secrets to swallow later
Same same high school juvenile
English teacher hebophile
Lies beget lies with no adult supervision
Predators penetrate without permission
Especially favored males
above suspicion

Back to back with

Court ordered
reverse abduction
Too much too late
Overt overprotection
premature prepubescent
irreversible independence
****** up DNA lifetime sentence
Survivor guilt/too young to choose
Either way at 12 years old you lose
Tough love authoritarianism
Vs.
Prodromal adolescent survivalism
Now no court dare insist
which insanity trumps which
Coupled with
Biological mother "crazy" trash-talk
Teenage runaway as soon as she can walk
&
Development of trust issues
Normalized by chronic
neglect and abuse
Hyper vigilant of subtext
Double super mega
Abandonment complex
Stockholm syndrome and PTSD
Dissociation in abductees
(Comfortable with recreating tragedies)
Within exploded families
Where the truth is an accumulation
Of what is not acknowledged

diagnostic checklists
Symptoms life synopsis
Doctors office doctors office
Taper off, titraite this
between pages tranquillized
Quoth the holy DSM V
Artificial life artificial life

As dirt swept under the rug
So much dirt makes a pile
So big a pile makes a child
A child makes too much noise
Ignore her
Tell her to shut up
Make her shut up
She is a liar
Put her in the closet
Do not feed the girl child
She needs too much
She is too much
Takes up too much room
Even in the womb
It's ok if she goes away
If someone takes her one day
If she dies
If her brother wants to **** her
And tries
Pretend she is dead

Mother didn't do anything
Wrong after all
No proof
No evidence
Just a child never born
To steal the glow of
Psychosis from the flaming eyes
Of a mother crossed
Who also never saw adulthood coming

Through the delusions, the chaos
Inherent crime without cost
You can't blame us
Born and raised already lost

Generations of children
Who make bad adults
Potential unfulfilled
And it's nobody's fault.
In progress
hangs upon my bleak
wall bleached by
disassociation

above a filing cabinet
storing thesis research
from The Trauma Institute
Campus at Stockholm
Mikaila Apr 2017
We come from power.
Our ancestors dealt in wiles,
Appraising glances at the world around
Lowered gazes and eyelashes that cast shadows
Hiding minds sharp enough to slit throats.
We come from deception and
Seduction.  
Glittering eyes and soft thighs
Sculpted cheeks and long necks
Smiles that could cut
Diamond.
As you toil through the world,
Know that your body is the most dangerous weapon
These men have ever seen.
Know that you raise hairs on their arms.
Do not forget where you came from-
Generations
Of women who sold their bodies and their lies
To marriage or to strangers
But never sold their souls.
Women who used
What they had,
Ruthless and unapologetic.
This world has fangs
And we come from the women who said
I will strike first
Rather than be devoured.
We come from power, not ruin.
Just because we have been hidden away
Silenced and enslaved,
This does not change.
We hold something in us that temples have been built to
Stones slick and red with the blood of violent sacrifices
Made
To our full lips
Our *******
Our dancing eyes
Wars have been fought
Cities have burned
Civilizations
Have crumbled
For us!
And good.
Good, they will.
Good, bleed for me.
Kneel for me.
Pray to me.
Call me
Sacred
And lay awake nights dreaming of my flesh.
This world has changed
But not so much as you think.
Do not forget that you come from blood
From steel
From a survivalism that only we carry pounding in our veins.
They locked us away, and we sang through the bars
Sirens who needed no weapons to break our shackles
They told themselves they used us
While we bled them dry for the pleasure of it.
We come from power!
Power that cannot be stolen from us
No matter what happens.
They looked at us and they saw
Gods.
They saw
Death.
They saw
Salvation.
They saw
The Morrigan,
The Furies,
They saw
Kali,
Destroyer of Worlds.
They fell to their knees
And in their awe
Could only name their ships, their weapons, their
Deities
For us.

Your holy lineage
Beckons.

Take what you want
And don't forget that you were born to do it.
Demand worship.
Demand
Blood.
They deserve it
And they know it:

They fear us.
They've always feared us.
And they should.
Sirens are often referred to in Greek Mythology as the muses of the lower world.
Everything is real,
As comprised by the light of a thousand minds,
Perspectives shining on a center
Projected by a need,

It is all real,
Consumerism, survivalism, capitalism, and faith,
Trauma, neglect, health, and esteem,
Intensity varies,
What commands our grace,
Is determined by what is most often received,

When the stage is reset,
All the players be changed,

If a threat is so lifted,
Will you still then perceive
It as present?

Deranged,
Acting as if still at siege,

Seeing others as willfully negligent beings.

Easy to learn to adapt to a danger,
Harder to learn to adapt to peace.

But everything's real,
The promise, the pain,
So best aquiesce to the range as its seen,

Stuck to protect what's no longer at hazard,
Is crazy at least,
And if brave,
Ill-conceived.
Psyche soaking wet with devout atheism,
this lifetime skeptic now tenuously
linkedin with Unitarianism
attests, said upbringing proffered,
mine credo, gestalt,

leitmotif, sans abstractionism
eludes elucidation, delineation, clarification...
some readers might
dismiss as absurdism
defying established dogma fixed absolutism

millenniums, would be hashtagged heretical,
and such cavalier blithe
apostasy, declared alarmism,
now - twenty first century
extant accursed as alcoholism

within various non
Western statecraft enclaves,
barely tolerating agnosticism
no fool to *******
proclamations antithetical opinionism

where condemnation to death
(I obediently, humbly, and gladly accept)
inadequate punishment,
cited on par relegated to alienism,
amoralism, antiestablishmentarianism...

never does this anachronism
loosely cabled with pioneerism,
(when ****** forests bedecked America),
a veritable wilderness, necessitated
quintessential self survivalism

knowhow long since forgot,
which dependence on consumerism
finds yours truly afflicted against capitalism
commercialism, conformism, cultism et cetera
more aligned with reliance on individualism

nearly an extinct species,
where anti materialism
betrays, cavils, and discourages ecocentrism,
versus profit motive maximization,
though of late environmental dynamism

aggressive representative thank you
Greta Ernman Thunberg regarding criticism,
nee opprobrious global ecological terrorism
mandating staunch defeatism
as stave bulwark

against criminal determinism
to wreak irrevocable traitorous dogmatism
predicated on tenets of egocentrism
brewed, steeped, and
galvanized in exceptionalism

of **** sapiens and expansionism
exclusive to said primate
that requires serious assessment,
asper bracketing craven
doctrinairism edified fundamentalism
granting humans unfettered expansionism!
Satsih Verma Dec 2016
Do not measure zany,
yourself. When did you become
your pedagogue?

Around the city I am
planting the roses―
against the wishes of land mines.

Haunted by a survivalism,
somewhere the smoke
was rising. But I wanted―

to leave the fragrance
for you― and you will not
wait for the ghosts to tell,

who was the visitor. You
will not know my future and
I will not know your past.

— The End —