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Grey May 20
And with just one word,
I watched as my dreams crashed down,
unable to hold
when life's harsh realities
beat down on their fragile frames.
May is the month of tankas and ten words, I guess.
Amna Khan Apr 27
Brittle, broken, beaten
I carry in my chest
a moldy stone.
It used to flutter once
and beat harmoniously.
Medusa's hair,
coiling around this planet
finally found it.
And now my heart is only a moldy stone, all thanks to this cruel world.
Ince St. Child
by Michael R. Burch

When she was a child
  in a dark forest of fear,
    imagination cast its strange light
      into secret places,
      scattering traces
    of illumination so bright,
  years later, they might suddenly reappear,
their light undefiled.

When she was young,
  the shafted light of her dreams
    shone on her uplifted face
      as she prayed;
      though she strayed
    into a night fallen like mildewed lace
  shrouding the forest of screams,
her faith led her home.

Now she is old
  and the light that was flame
    is a slow-dying ember . . .
      What she felt then
      she would explain;
    she would if she could only remember
  that forest of shame,
faith beaten like gold.

Published by Piedmont Literary Review, Songs of Innocence, Romantics Quarterly and Poetry Life & Times. This is an unusual poem that I wrote in my late teens or early twenties, and it took me some time to figure out who the elderly woman was. She was a victim of childhood ******, hence the title I eventually chose. Keywords/Tags: child, abuse, ******, fear, night, faith, prayer, screams, shame, beaten
muteD Mar 24
Words hurt
But yours shouldn’t have to.
The things you say stick to me like a
I’m a vacuum.
I **** up all the things you say
and it just replays.
You say
things you think you have to say
in ways
that are better left unsaid.
Too bad you can’t UnSay
the things you said
even though I know
you never would.

How come
it is always the ones we hold closest
that is gifted
with the blueprint
of our defeat?
a way to have us
beaten, broken hearted
and down
on both knees.

How is this honest?
How are we fair?
To be clear,
as you sleep
without fear
I sit here and think.
If you had a snore for every tear I’ve shed,
you might never wake up.
Written : 3/4/20
Proctor Ehrling Sep 2019
Torn up shirt
Ripped up blazer
Hair of dirt
Occam's razor

Tries to stand up
Hides the inability
Takes a step, has to stop
Law of probability
Freestyle written in 3 minutes.
Taylor Broussard May 2019
Scared to open these tattered wings of mine
In fear that they'll fall off
Putting on this dim halo
For all to see
Feeling nothing at all
But an icy darkness
Instead of my usual warmth
Whatever happened to
The holy angel I used to be

You took everything away from me
From my lock and key memories
That you sharpened
And continuously used against me
Down to the pure white cloak
That I use to wear so sacredly
Who knew that
I would encounter the devil himself
This poem is about a very dark time that I went through. For those of you who can relate please know this, YOU ARE NOT ALONE.
A beautiful dazzle of sunlight wakes me up,
Slowly opening my eyes feeling numb.
Slowly remembering the taste of my own cup.
Karma, that ****** ****.

Splattering blood in the parking lot.
Severely beaten,
All of the memories and regrets are brought;
Left me bleeding.

A silly smile on my face.
Waiting for that fatal coup de grace.
A bludgeoned arm, a fractured leg, a broken nose...
Peacefuly falling in the arms of Azrael, to forever repose.
Krystle OBrien Apr 2019
Hit not once but twice
Expecting me not to rise
Face bloodied and bruised
Heartbroken and confused
Words of hate won’t suffice

This has taken all my might
All alone in the middle of night
Thoughts of leaving creep
It’s time now to take that leap

Never again will that happen
This is my vessel; I’m the captain
Time has passed, I am no longer mad
I have flourished and refused to be sad

No regrets from the past
Although my choices did not last
I am stronger showing no shame
I pass no judgment nor hold any blame

The damage done was a cracked cheekbone
Still till this day is there and shown
I forgive that crazed juncture
My heart is still whole it didn’t rupture
Thorns Mar 2019
Ones who were friends torn away
Off against you
No longer caring or accepting you
You're on your own
Everyone for themselves
On the battlefield, you've fought your hardest
To be beaten and rendered hopeless  
Right when you break down
When you're on the ground, just not caring anymore
You pray to be shot
You pray to be killed
For you don't even have the strength to end yourself
The worst has already happened
What worse could happen
Please, tell me
Then suddenly, finally, you're hit
Sliced through with a bullet
As you slowly go, flashbacks of the happy faces come to mind
And go as quickly as your life
As you're left there
At War
You lost the battle
But not you're self
My thoughts when there are people around and i just feel ****** and alone, but i don't cry. Not not now, not here. I just write for now...
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