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Mida Burtons Dec 2018
i hate how easily i can be forgotten
left as an afterthought
although i don't know how long for
just know i'm still around
you shower her with gifts and treats
while i'm treated like ****
you ridicule me, beat me and enjoy each part of it
leaving everything sore you smile
you see a bruise and laugh
a cut couldn't make you happier
a burn would be twice that
is there no way forward?
i don't want to be scared all my life
never daring to come alive
because right now i'm the walking dead
there's nothing left in me anymore
you've broken me down so much
it's as far as i can go
i wake up every morning
for what? i don't know
i only have but one request dad,
it's for you to let me go
kailee Nov 2018
" leave a voicemail after the beep"

mom,
why do you do it
why do you put up with his lies
why can nobody see it
that when he hits you and denies it hes lying?

why cant i sick up for you

why can i be there for you

i hear screams and a body hit the floor
but i still stay in my closet
hidden in the clothes i never bothered to put away
i know they aren't dark circles under you eyes

but mom tell me this when dad looks at the girl
in a see through shirt and you say something
all of a sudden
when we get home
his knuckles are raw
and your bleeding
what can i do
i want to help

i'm sorry i know what pain he is causing you
i really try to help but im too scared
scared of what hes done
i cant fend for myself

mom,
please help its happening to me now
i learned to freeze and take it
but how do i cover the bruises and scars
why couldn't i learn the first time
or even the second

are you there?

mom please!

i got to go hes coming
i'm sorry i learned after you
i'm sorry you are six feet under and hes still alive

can i join you?
Sutherland Oct 2018
A gagged mouth screams mindfully in pain.
An outreached hand ****** to grasp air.
It mumbles and yells to the self imposed chain.
Veil of joy,
Depths of despair.

A fisherman watches, her mast crest the Earth.
A flower watches her buzz by.
Tears disparage pain, void of her worth.
Absent of reason,
They wither and die.

Once again,
Alone.
David Abraham Oct 2018
My feet were splintered and cracked from crawling in the broken trees,
but still I stood and stared through the wooden beams
to see far below me, to gaze into the eyes of the howling beasts.

I hoped desperately that they not see me,
but their heads flashed upwards and their tongues pulled me from my perch.
I could hear every word now, trapped underneath their fumbling feet.
They moved slowly over me, working meticulously.

I waited for the evening, when the dying rays of the sun sank into the tile from the doorway,
and when they would vanish melt into the darkness of his shadow.
I wait and wait some days, but they never melt just right,
instead only turning the whole world into night.

His shadow doesn't arrive sometimes for days and nights,
sometimes, though, it takes months and once a year,
but every day I long to hear,
his rough and Southern drawl,
whether it be telling me that I am queer
or small.

Most days I do not care what it is he'll do or say,
I only care that he is there, and that he will make the monsters go away.
1042 october 9th 2018
Christian Oct 2018
Please forgive me,

For being absent for so long
Then coming back with no excuse
Because this time I'm wrong
This time I lose.

For seducing you for my pleasure
While my head was on the ground
I've deprived you from your leisure
To the earth you were bound.

For playing god with your pages
When this is no one's book
And it will be for the ages
Dear poetry, my nook.
I made this poem when I started writing obsessively about a very specific topic. I felt like I had betrayed poetry in a way, or at least the way that I used to write before. Looking back to it, it's about a year and a half old and I feel it has aged well as I re-read it.
lovelywildflower Sep 2018
I apologize that I have been absent
My mind has been running away from me
and I keep losing it
I've been chasing it this whole time
I cannot lose myself again
I'm sorry

I apologize that I have been absent
My lungs have been full of aching sadness
and it's hard to breathe
I've been taking deeper breaths
I cannot let myself drown again
I'm sorry

I apologize that I have been absent
My body is too weak to move
and I don't know where I am half the time
I've been trying to connect with it
I cannot let myself slow down again
I'm sorry

I apologize that I have been absent
My demons decided to hit me hard
and hid away the part of me that loves
I've been trying to find my feelings
I cannot view the world feeling nothing again
I'm sorry

But in the end
I shouldn't have to apologize for any of this
I'm trying to be okay again
I don't owe anyone anything
Here I continue to write these never ending poems,
About some guy I never knew,
Someone I'll probably never really care about,
Because apparently:
It's still not out of my system.

I don't know how many more
Verses or lines this will take,
To pour this all away from my insides,
So I'm sorry if your sick
Of me constantly plastering this everywhere.
You're probably wondering how I'm still not over it,
Because every collection that I have,
Nowadays this always seems to get in somewhere.

I even dedicated a whole project to it,
Some kind of twisted devotion because I thought it might help,
They say I've had too much dissociation.
Those contradicting professionals,
Say this isn't good enough either:
I'm just not doing something right,
And my agony is wrong;
I'm not doing traumatic recovery right,
Even though if you ask me, there hasn't been any "trauma".

If you're sick of it,
I understand.
I'm sick of it too,
But keeping this inside,
It just won't do,
But I'm still told I'm not
Releasing my anguish anyway.
This is truly how I feel right now.
How to find an absent parent:
Step one: mention it to family,
Listen to them tell you how ****** up that person is.
The third step is: believe them.

Four: you get through your childhood and into being a teenager,
Also classified as a troubled youth,
Because, come on, no one gets to eighteen having escaped being mentally *******.

Step five, this is where it gets messy.
This day was always going to come,
It's the day you considered looking, you make a start of it too.

The sixth comes slowly,
Maybe a year later after things have finally calmed down
In this complex situation,
You get some kind of response.

Number seven, you start to question things.
Eight: now you question everything.
You officially realise almost everyone is a liar.

Nine, someone else comes along to make you confused,
You conflict yourself so much as if it's good news.
Ten is where you welcome back the mixed emotions you've had the whole way through,
Except now they're amplified by tenfold,
Have fun getting through!

Eleven: you get some answers that half work to your advantage,
Yet still tell you absolutely nothing,
And now you're back to how you felt before;
Longing for the opposite outcome;
To have someone that cares.

Step twelve is where you're at right now,
You're absolutely horrified,
Do you look once more,
Open your soul up to people,
So that they can tear it up again?
Ask if you can become their slave,
So that you get the chance to feel their mass rejection of you?

This whole way through,
You question, do you want to know who made you?
Are you really sure that you want to find out what disgusting genes exist within you?
By searching I feel like
I'm begging for a family,
Trying to tell someone they have to have me,
But they made me lonely.
Why should I fall to the feet of people,
Who do not deserve me?
Who purposely removed me?

Sometimes I wonder if I really want it,
I inform myself I know I don't need it,
I recite how it won't make it better,
Instead the discomfort will fester
And I won't be able to hide,
I'll be unable to make it go away:
And that's my biggest fear.

I've learnt by now,
How scary it is, when it comes around
To asking for things;
Carrying out the consequences.
By the time I get what I thought I wanted,
I no longer desire for it:
Instead I've put myself in Hell,
A place where I've backed myself into a corner:
And I'll never find an escape.

Somehow that storm has past:
I've survived, I'm still alive
But after that I'm back to needing.
Needing things to be okay,
Realising what I've missed out on,
All over again,
Yet I'm too scared to find it,
Because of how terrorising
It was the last time,
That I almost found what I've
Always been waiting for.

What I can't handle is,
Providing someone with my weaknesses.
This is one of the things
That could really hurt me,
And I'd be screaming it at the top of my lungs,
To some stranger that I've
Never heard of.

Eventually, every now and then,
The time comes around,
When I'd like to give in.
I'll just try, this one more time,
Maybe it won't be so bad,
Maybe one day if I do this it won't make me sad.

There's always this one thing
I don't understand:
Is how this makes people so **** happy.
It's like a celebration, a liberation.
Why are they so happy,
To find people who treated them like ******* before they really even existed?
They spent their whole life without them,
Because they simply gave them up
And I don't care about the so called "reasons",
For me it's just not good enough,
And then they're so happy to get the chance,
To discover them.

Can't they see it how I do?
They got rid of you,
They didn't want you before you even had the chance
To do anything wrong.
How can you look at,
Or hear of
Your own flesh and blood
And decide to get rid of it,
Like an old worn out rug?

So tell me, why should I live for,
Someone else who doesn't give a toss,
Who goes on with everything else,
While I grew up.
Do you know what it's like,
Being the kid in the playground,
Surrounded by their friends with their parents,
Whilst you're there with no father or mother in sight?
Do you know what it's like,
To cry at night saying you miss someone,
Someone you have never known,
Because you didn't understand,
That you can't miss a privation;
You can't miss what's never been there,
Because you're too young?
Do you have a clue,
What it feels like, to wonder why you weren't good enough,
To even have a ****** father?
Why you couldn't have a father at all?

But children are resilient,
You'll be happy to know,
So you get through all that,
Like it's nothing at all.
Then for some reason,
It all crushes you when you least expected it,
You see you've been apathetic, not caring about it.
Then one day you wake up,
And your whole life evolves around it,
Almost like an obsession that you can't stop,
You're sure it hits you harder than before,
With no visible cause, and you can't gather why
This suddenly matters so much now,
But it just does.

They may have gotten rid of you,
Before they had the chance to see you breathe,
That's not important though,
Because you'll suffer all the same,
With constant thoughts after you're sure you have escaped.
You'll wonder why they're so inexcusable
And so dissolute.
You'll ask yourself what you should do,
And in this society, many people think it's great, they think it's fun to find out
Just exactly who left you, who ditched you, who made sure you didn't even know their name,
Thinking about it will make you feel enraged,
Disgusted, but all the same:
These thoughts,
They will never seem to go away.
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