A puny nib tells it's affliction to perception sheet.
Timur Shamatov Dec 2018
Staring at you through a glass of
My self-inflicted barrier of thought
No matter what I say or do the
Message isn’t getting through

“Darling can’t you sense the pain of
  cuts upon your blood-soaked hands as
  you’re trying to assemble the pieces of
                            my shattered heart....”

Lips upon my tear-soaked eyes
As we spend our final night
Knowing that your tenet won’t come true
As I watch you struggle through affliction

“How can you try to mend it in the dark,
         specially when someone else has        
                     stolen some of it’s parts...”
Not long after being dumped I met a beautiful soul who tried to bring me back to life through love... I hated myself for hurting her because I wasn’t ready for Love nor did I thought I could at that time. I hope our paths cross again so I can show you what you meant to me. Thank you.
Aaron Elswick Dec 2018
Place the day
Shredded paper soil pours the rose composed for those with better things to grow into the air
Smokey silhouettes dressed in regret pressed against the echoes of its flare
Sparing the nights received stares of ambivalence
A sentence spun to run on too long
In a song with too many notes
broken in a sense few would know how to sense
or think to try
To vai through ethereal rope for ways to cope
with another day of smoke
Just wait and choke
Consider the ways it broke
Deliver another craven joke
Then slither away at once and pray the planted stems response
is the one we'd hoped it would evoke

But we haven't spoken have we
Coughed a sick joke and no ones laughing
Are you happy
Free from a tether whether we were ready or not
Lock step in a crowd head down
Feathers in a knot
Trapped me in apathy
Had to be hard
And I'm sad that I'm happy
Playing the part

Place the night
Over a lifetime of work and lurch
When the dirt under your nails edges into pale skin
Sickening little scratches tapping rickety veins placing marks to track the pain on a line this thin
An addiction.
Affliction born from your own choices
sworn to poison from the inside out beginning to end.
Send the sin from your nerves with urgency
turbulent little displacements of adjacency
And graciousness erase us
As we face and feed the fire
With emaciated traces rehearsed  when we preach to choirs.
Indecent liars
destined for and inspired by greatness swooning under the weight between each action
feeling dire chasms open
soon after the broken reflections of our spoons feel the heat from lighters
Just wanted to try something different. Hopefully it isn't SO vague that no one can get anything meaningful out of it.
Anya Dec 2018
There are certain words...
Like, depression
That become the mascot
For their particular affliction
An all encompassing bubble,
Doesn’t mean much
But liver cancer, now that’s a whole nother matter

Just simply using the word
Gives rise to panic.         Anxiety
It makes sense,
That non experts can’t know every type of
Illness or mental disorder out there
So they associate it with a mascot

It’s all the unessesary hype
And fear
The baggage that comes with it
Not as many, knew about zeka
But Ebola?
That was all over the news
Despite being far less of a threat
Simply because,
It became the mascot
Fainche Siobhan Dec 2018
seek the profoundnes
of the words that i've written
who i was before
lovelywildflower Oct 2018
i haven't been answering to your messages
or anyone's for that matter
i don't feel like talking
reminiscing of a time that used to be
i'm lonely
no more best friends
no more real laughter
no more being a kid
you're older now
grow up
i'm sorry i haven't responded
but i was having tea with myself in the shower
step into my life
drink up the loneliness
see the sadness crawling in my heart
feel the cold water envelope my body
focusing on the lines on my skin
i haven't been me lately
i've done things that i would never do
like drinking alcohol in the middle of school
feel it dripping off my lips
dancing around
it tasted like cough medicine
healing the sickness inside my bones
my mind screaming
is it really wrong if it feels good?
i see the world differently
i've been wanting to hurt everyone i see
it's not them as people
but just me being jealous that they can be so happy
while i'm sitting in the corner
making friends with the shadows
fingers dancing on the walls
eyes closing with the idea
that i could ever be loved
i'm broken
can't you see the shattered glass in me?
feel it against my skin
feel it in my throat
feel it in my heart
and in my lungs
i haven't felt the pleasure of breathing in so long
it makes me wonder if i'm even alive?
am i?
Alyssa Underwood Aug 2018
We're forced, each man, to walk a trialed path—
resisted trek, uphill through blinding daze
that shrouds with crucible's perplexing haze
till fog-white skies yield quick to black clouds' wrath.
Affliction brims a thorny pack to bear
whilst dewy darkness drenches in the night,
but where is calming lamp to lend us sight?
And who will come to give us saving care?
Here through veil is heard a whisper certain,
then o'er the mountain creeps the dawning day
and with clear eyes we see the brume give way
as *** retracts His theatre's curtain,
unsheathing velvet waves whose morning sheen
beyond grey mist splays vast and wondrous green.

"I will exalt You, LORD,
    for You lifted me out of the depths
    and did not let my enemies gloat over me.
LORD my ***, I called to You for help,
    and You healed me.
You, LORD, brought me up from the realm of the dead;
    You spared me from going down to the pit.
Sing the praises of the LORD, you His faithful people;
    praise His holy name.
For His anger lasts only a moment,
    but His favor lasts a lifetime;
weeping may stay for the night,
    but rejoicing comes in the morning.
When I felt secure, I said,
    'I will never be shaken.'
LORD, when You favored me,
    You made my royal mountain stand firm;
but when You hid Your face,
    I was dismayed.
To You, LORD, I called;
    to the Lord I cried for mercy:
'What is gained if I am silenced,
    if I go down to the pit?
Will the dust praise You?
    Will it proclaim Your faithfulness?
Hear, LORD, and be merciful to me;
    LORD, be my help.'
You turned my wailing into dancing;
    You removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,
that my heart may sing Your praises and not be silent.
    LORD my ***, I will praise You forever."

~ Psalm 30

Mystkue Writings Aug 2018
My daddy was a woman beater

But she didn’t care as long as he didn’t cheat her
She valued that hit
Like it was twist of that good kush
On some cloud nine, Heroine Ish

After every episode
She’d still move with such grace
Pleading things, like
he’s just sick
He’s really a kind man
He’s not cruel.
Just sick!

She believed so much in his lies
Her nightly cries became uniform
As he.....
Mutilated her pretty face
Leaving battle scars
Some verbal, without a trace
Those cries became her lullabies
I remember it like it was yesterday
Until one night she stopped putting up a fight
Her lungs collasped
Causing a vein to bust
And people always said you can’t die from heart ache and mistrust
But I watched him
as he watched the spirit from her eyes disintegrate
he placed his peace sign
Over her like it was his final goodbye
He simply smiled and said until next time
Then he took a dramatic pause
Kissed her forehead
Thanked her even
I continued to watch him, conflicted and confused
I watched him **** my mother then thank her
I saw him **** my mother
The one who loved him like no other
I pondered. . . Why did he thank her
It wasn’t until his stature blocked my light
My bulb went off
Remember I said. . .

My daddy was a woman beater
He thanked her cause I was next
Back then was when I was 5
You can celebrate
‘Cause I just turned 30
I survived.
Alyssa Underwood Jul 2017
It's delight which flows without measure
from the assurance that through every circumstance
and detail of my life *** is ever beckoning and drawing me
into deeper intimacy with Himself, ever whispering to my heart,
“Come closer still.”

Joy in the midst of devastating loss, crushing disappointment,
unbearable pain or scourging heartache is about the discovery of
treasure so precious and rare that it never could have been found
had we not been forced to walk a path of affliction in the desert.

It's in the isolation and brutality of the wild that we come to know Him
in ways that transcend the span of human imagining or desiring,
and all the songs and all the poems and all the masterpieces
taken together cannot capture an estimable description
of the pleasures that might be unearthed there.

There lies before us in our afflictions a vast and wondrous beauty
yet undisclosed behind the fog, and like a theatrical curtain
slowly pulled back to reveal a perfectly set stage
He will sublimely unveil it in His own directed time.

And we shall be elated at the view,
for it's against a backdrop of struggle and darkness
that the best and most moving of stories have always unfolded.

Maybe nothing truly beautiful can ever take form on earth
without the shroud of mystery and brokenness surrounding it—
at least not the kind of beauty that takes our breath away
and leaves us yearning to possess it.

"You have made known to me the path of life; You will fill me with joy
in Your presence, with eternal pleasures at Your right hand."  
~ Psalm 16:11

"O ***, You are my ***, earnestly I seek You; my soul thirsts for You, my body longs for You, in a dry and weary land where there is no water. I have seen You in the sanctuary and beheld Your power and Your glory. Because Your love is better than life, my lips will glorify You. I will praise You as long as I live, and in Your name I will lift up my hands. My soul will be satisfied as with the richest of foods; with singing lips my mouth will praise You. On my bed I remember You; I think of You through the watches of the night. Because You are my help, I sing in the shadow of Your wings. My soul clings to You; Your right hand upholds me."  
~ Psalm 63:1-8

"It was good for me to be afflicted so that I might learn Your decrees. The law from Your mouth is more precious to me than thousands of pieces of silver and gold."  
~ Psalm 119:71-72

"'Therefore I am now going to allure her; I will lead her into the desert and speak tenderly to her. There I will give her back her vineyards, and will make the Valley of Achor a door of hope. There she will sing as in the days of her youth...'"
~ Hosea 2:14-15
As a young man (30ish)
Sat alone in a room,
His feeble voice
Rang out:
"If there's anyone here,
Please talk to me."

"Help!" He continued.
"I've gotta go
To the bathroom.
Please, help me!"
Echoed his broken,
Lame voice.

Sadly, his cry
Fell on deaf ears.

I've seen him
Throw himself down,
And banging his head
On the floor--
In a loud voice,  
Cursed *** continuously.

With a lamenting voice,
He prayed to die.
And yet, he lived.

In pitious ragings,
He'd severely
Threaten others.
But with family,
He remained utterly calm.
Only his family
Could console him.

My heart ached for him,
As my eyes welled with tears.
For, you see,
He was young and blind.

He was a young blind man,
Consumed by his blindness.
This story is true. And situations such as this, illustrates the truth of life's less glamorous side: the affliction. The darkness. The loneliness. The dependency and utterly helpless feeling. The fear and despair. What is not, and yet could have been for any of us.
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