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Kristen 1h
I have stretched these muscles thin
trying to find salvation,
crawling through the earth
I have sought out redemption in the dirt,
sat steady in the soot under the horizon
hoping to find grace,
hoping to find you.

I am trying to grow a garden,
burying the pieces you left me in and
hoping to take to the soil
and grow.
Grow from the porcelain-cracked picturesque
prison you have kept this body in.
Grow
from the nights spent above ground,
soaking in sunlight like the flower I should have
been.

I have always been more comfortable with the
worms,
and no promises of oxygen can rip me from the feeling
of mud flooding my lungs.

One night I will see through the cracks in the
rocks,
and the moonlight will beckon me from this
burial.
But until the night claims me,
before the starlight seeks me out,
I will sit with the garden I have grown
from the tips of my fingers
and
rot.
Kristen 1h
Saltwater has filled my lungs before.
I have felt this storm run over my skin,
felt the cracks of thunder and lightning
as the water dragged me down.
I fell in love with the bruises and the burns,
the pruned fingers and the gasping for air,
but you,
you are the dry land I have ached for all these years,
warm and soft
I have felt oxygen with you for the first time
I have laid down on your sands and felt the sun on my skin for the first time.

I am no longer a corpse,
a bruised and bloodied mass of guilt.
I will stand on these two shaky legs,
and feel the oxygen in my lungs,
and remind myself that
I am enough.
You have shown me that I am enough,
Feeling the sand between my toes reminds me that, despite everything, I am alive.
And that is enough.

I got addicted to the feeling of drowning every day,
and sometimes the storm ***** me in like an old habit
but I know that one day I will leave this ocean behind
and you will be there on the other side to guide me home.
And that
will be enough.
Stewie 21h
That night after you dumped me on the phone
I couldn’t stop crying.
My sister gave me a Xanax and my parents took us to Golden Corral.
I turned numb.
Now after 10 years later
You want to reconcile.








No.
Don’t go back to an ex.
Rett 1d
My mother always asked me if I was abused
I didn't know that every time i said no i was lying
When you did what you did you took from me
You took things from me that I didn't know you could take
You took the memory of my childhood with you when you left that house
You took nights of laughter and replaced it with nights of terror
You took my safe space away from me
You took sexuality away from me
You, who want a quick **** took years away from me
You took security in reality away from me
11 years later and your still taking from me
You took control of my thoughts away from me
You took physical contact away from me
You took my memories
You took my ability to listen to my ow thoughts away from me
You, who got away with no punishment took everything thing from me

And i don't even know your name…

That night you lost nothing..
And I lost everything
this isnt very good but i wanted to vent some frustrations
Dad liked to call me
princess when I was small,
but you hated it,
asked him to stop.

You didn't want me
to think I was royalty,
I wonder what you wanted
me to be

When I was a teenager
you confessed to me
that you thought
I'd grow up to be
a ****, because I
touched myself a lot
as a toddler

Eight years later
I know that's a sign
of abuse, and I wish
I could go back
and shake you

Maybe if you had
asked questions
instead of deciding
I was impure
(at two years old)
I would know
what happened to me
to make me feel
so unsafe in my body

A part of me
blames you,
but I know that
without a doubt

Your mother wounded you, too.
freyja 2d
noun | the way his hand rested on the small of her back. the curve of her hip pressed against his side. the soft click of a lock, keeping her in his gilded cage. it was nice at first, the way he spoke about her as a belonging. perhaps it was her own loneliness that made her crave his. the allure of fixing him was too enticing to deny, so she dove headfirst, recklessly swimming against his nature. but the explosion of a thrown wine glass on the wall behind her when she needed to leave, needed to get out, made her hate the naive girl she once was. and still she loved the way he pressed gentle kisses on her tear stained cheeks, apologizing and begging her to stay. and, despite herself, she knows she will.
Look at me
In the eye
At the face
Ignore this awful place
Look at me
In the heart
When we’re far apart
I’m human too, you know
Let me live
Let me die
Please don’t let me cry
Hold my hand
Hold on tight
And together, we’ll walk into the blinding light
Nina 3d
I spent my entire life
Getting hurt

Being mistreated
Used

Pain?
What's that
I've gotten so used
To all the bruises
To all the bleedings
I've gotten used to the verbal abuse
Emotional pain
And mental effect

Nothing can hurt my anymore
In fact
I've found comfort in pain

So hurt me
Like how people hurt people
Hurt me
It does not matter anymore
I will still hurt myself
At the end of the day
Pain keeps be safe
Pain makes me sane
Reality was my nightmare,
               dreams were my solace.

I was real within them.
When I was a kid,
I had a labrador.
He was beaten, beaten his blood out of his face.
I wish I can help him.
But I was beaten too.
By my daddy,
sometimes by my mommy too.

I used to go to school
to escape the chaos in my house.
School was worse.
They bullied me throwing my water bottle away.
I was whipped
with my dad's leather belt
for loosing my water bottle.
The labrador used to stare at me,
he wish he could help.
I went house without
pens, napkins,
torn notebooks and torn uniforms.
whipped, whipped, whipped
my childish pale flesh.

One Day I walked to house
without a pencil eraser.
I was not sad.
I was not scared.
I got beaten a lot of times.
But-
I went house and saw
my labrador
dead.
I did not cry.
Accepted my quota of whips
and took a walk outside.
I did not cry.
This poem is very personal to me. I always believe kids need more attention and care. But unfortunately, some of them are not getting it.
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