lost lauren Mar 13
I am made from

the perseverance and kindness of my mother,

and the knowledge and patience from my father.

My mind tangled with

overwhelming emotions that I try too hard to suppress,

and memories that light up my eyes with wonder

filling my stomach with warmth and purpose.

Experiences that shaped a heart of empathy

having been far down in the pit of despair

once strangers that are no longer, helped me find clarity.

Chapped lips and a quick tongue

I fear to say something too fast,

without a second thought

having unintentionally stung.

Inside are taped up cracks and stitched holes

knowing all too well I could have helped myself

out of a toxic relationship by just taking control.

Inside are bones and bad blood circulation

all the caffeine, drugs and nicotine consumption

coping mechanisms acquired over the years for a fix,

a pleasurable sensation

to balance out the losses, betrayals, deaths, and depression.

Passions, soul, and substances all churning and rumbling mixed about

I used to be good at self-sabotaging

now I’m trying to pace myself so I don’t get worn out.

I am made from

every kind encounter I’ve had with a selfless stranger,

laughter from my friends and lovers

sounds of sweet nothings but the wind in nature.

My ears filled with

the first time you told me you loved me

and the voices that allowed me to overcome tragedy

songs that carried me away in bliss

with only a simple tone or melody.

My eyes deep and dark like the color of soil after the rain falls

squinting through thick glasses trying to see clearly past life’s pitfalls.

I’m constantly inspired by the world around me

Always wanting to try it myself so I can experience it all.

Jack of all trades, but a master at none.

I feel like there so much to learn and so much to see

it’s hard to pick just one thing to be.

I can barely even attempt to fathom

what else life has in store for me.
LNI Mar 11
How are we supposed to love if we don't even share the same definition?
It's farcical.
People say they love you, but they don’t.
They love how you make them feel.
They love you because you’re appealing or wealthy or something else.
Thus they're taking something from you.
They love how freely you live your life and how they lack any responsibility towards you.
They love you since you make them feel ecstatic and whole.
Thy love how you make them come and how you drink their juices.

But don't hurry to judge them as we've all taken away recklessly by the spiral band of morality.

But this isn't loving.
This is pilfering.
This is usurping upon my way of existing accomplished painfully.
This is seizing my ability to fight.
This is begging for my sympathy.
This isn't loving.
This is projecting on me something that I’m not.

Love was supposed to be lovely.
It was supposed to be about giving not taking.
It was supposed to be about accepting not judging and manipulating.
Love was supposed to be therapeutic not the sickness.
What have we done to love?
I’ve given up entirely to love.
I’m going for my love from now on.
I am love.
I must be love.
Sometimes I just can't sleep
Because my mind
Is made up of memories
Oh the things
I love
And they are with me
Every second of my day
And night
Thinking of you
Why am I so in love
when all you gave
were lies?
Maybe if I carve my adjectives
Into the very walls that keep you safe
You will finally see me
Since each and every one of you
Seems to have forgotten
Who the fuck I am
Perhaps then
You will pass me by
With lips sewn shut
And keep your eyes down
Like good boys
You've gotten me
So paint that on the inside
Of your glass fucking houses
And use it for target practice
Just know
If I hear one more word from your lips
I'll cut out your vocal cords
And use them to string my
Holy Lyre
To play you sweet songs
About beautiful golden silence
Then perhaps you will learn
That I am not one to be
Whispered about
Maybe you will remember
Who the fuck you're standing before
I haven't changed
You've just *forgotten
Lylock Feb 18
It's all in the brain
Pain and whatever
It's just your brain

Who? You
That seems stupid
But who am I
If not my brain

Don't tell me
I'm a walking paradox
Shower thoughts...
As I close my eyes

I am there

4 years old white t-shirt blue jean overalls

I am there

Walking up the stairs to play the "game" He said would be so fun

I am there

4 years old playing a "game" I have never played before

I am there

He is touching me, I don't like this "game"

I am there

4 years old everyone knew but no one would save

I am there

4 years old in the back of a cop car

I am there

People are crying and I don't know why

I am there

Foster home from Foster home

I am there

4 years old scared, crying asking "Mrs..when will I see my brothers"

I am there

Getting older now and feeling so

I am there

Surrounded by people but still never chosen

I am there

Graduation party wishing and hoping

I am there

Tears and a heavy heart she said she was coming but she wasn't here

I am there

Surrounded by people but still feeling like I am not enough

I am there
I am even older now and I still don't know love

I am there
Looking back on what first broke
I am here...
This is my story Charmion Janaé
Maddy Feb 16
As protruding collar bones
and hip bones
and ribs

As hunger
and money
and happiness

As knowledge
and wonder
and sadness

As crop tops
and skinny jeans
and piggyback rides

As thigh gaps
and dainty hands
and jawlines

I am not beautiful

I do not have bones that push so far out of my skin
That they tower above skyscrapers

I do not have size 00 jeans
or 32 A cup bras

I do not have a scale that doesn't sigh
when I step on it daily

I am not beautiful

I was taught I am ugly
I am a pig
I am the definition of repulsive

Beauty is taught
And so is self hatred
This one isn't really put together because I just came up with it. I stepped on my scale this morning and was seriously considering grabbing a pair of scissors and going at my stomach. So instead, I made tea, I did some homework, ate an apple, and wrote this. Have fun with this emotional vomit!
Mystery of me
do you see
Do you wish to

It's a mystical trip
If you could go inside

You'd find a heart that's been stitched
a soul with loving magic music soaked
A beauty that's sad and alone
Some happy rivers flowing wildly
Trees with leaves of memories
some special special delicate flowers

When you see me
Do you really know
How , I crave to be loved
touched with good intentions

Wildly daring but deeply loving
Seeker of truth wise in years
Giving of all within me
stories so many
but in it all
is me all me

Mystery only
If you don't wish to see
© Jennifer Delong 2/2018
Next page