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Nat Lipstadt Dec 2020
~for those who can’t sleep, and know why~

you say “how much is too far?” and I think yes, more scars,
a man surveys a lifetime of errors and cowardice,
my soles, scarred from nite-walking new york city sidewalks,
days of haven’t slept in years, weakness is my prejudice,
tally sums-ups as no forgiveness, the pavement paying is a
continuum of  paying on, there is no atonement for wasted life,
the concrete cracks wedded to my body, stepped on each one

marvel at the disastrous disappointment that I’ve engineered,
how creative in disguising a life of accumulated self bruising,
applaud my season’s greeting card, 2020, me meeting me,
in a laptop I am contained, global boundaries thus defined,
crumpled coffee cups, emptied wine glass, zoom loops of repetition,
still I wonder why, every day, how, so many missteps, wondering
not at the lackluster will that carried me;  every minute sorrowful

so much hidden begs for revelation, murdered souls, theft, jealousy,
but the punishment is brutal; a conscientious conscience continually
punishes my blackened hours and there is no retrieval, retrial,
just a grounded plot with neither headstone and grass,
for I’m marked by no marker, and the wounds inflicted are my
afflicted leavings, my bones+soul confined, and the hallelujah
word excised from my vocabulary, forbidden me, justifiably so


Mr. Tambourine Man
Song by Bob Dylan

“Though I know that evening's empire has returned into sand
Vanished from my hand
Left me blindly here to stand, but still not sleeping
My weariness amazes me,
I'm branded on my feet
I have no one to meet
And the ancient empty street's too dead for dreaming...

And take me disappearing through the smoke rings of my mind
Down the foggy ruins of time
Far past the frozen leaves
The haunted frightened trees
Out to the windy beach
Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow
Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky
With one hand waving free
Silhouetted by the sea
Circled by the circus sands
With all memory and fate
Driven deep beneath the waves
Let me forget about today until tomorrow”
4:32 AM Sat Dec 5 2020
JW Mar 2020
your kiss
burnt my lips
bruised my limbs
set me on fire

your look
shook my core
tore me apart
ignited my desire

i leave
my memory branded
stranded without you
waiting by the shore
His name branded
On my mind
and heart
Even 6,022
miles apart

Forever a smile
On my face
Forever a laugh
In silence’s wake
Luna Jay Mar 2019
The sun plummets into pools
Of fleshy humanity.
The pollution sinks
Into the streets of the city.
The flames,
Lapping at the skin
Melting off of
My hollow structure.
But still, I will stand tall.
The memory of you
Still branded on the insides
Of my eyelids.
Kim Essary Mar 2018
Defenseless as the bull lays with his limbs wound tight with twined rope, watching as the hot iron lay upon his coat and melt it's way to his flesh. All he can do is Bellow at the agonizing pain for he is unable to stop it. Flowing rapid through his vanes the pain , like the rivers rushing down the stream.
The torture still steaming as the damage is done ,he wears the memory of that pain daily to remind of a feeling of helplessness dismissing his dignity replacing it with his submission as he is forever branded .  I live this feeling everyday as I wake to the torture of my limbs twined with invisible rope, the only difference is the burning flesh is inside piercing my heart as I lay helpless knowing I can't save you from your pain. The worry rips through me ****** and kidnapping my sanity as the thought of the unknown is more than I can bare. Although my scars  are internal ,  the naked eye can't see , the hurt  and fear I  feel for you,  brands me every day
I am an emotional wreck worrying every second of the day . Please November get here so I can see my boy
Wyatt freaks
come on baby talk to me
just like the others
give your oppinion
then block me
read around
what we

then pretend
you will be
all right
one two three
know me

take my footsteps
with grains

pucker your mouth
watch me stomp

report my manners
after you block me
your form
must have



are just in an shell

your stupid
letters are just an test

just because
you block me
don't mean
it isn't me
every writer you read

test me


no no no

why et y

we 91st good thing for my soul
block my whole
report me
hey me
change who I am

Wy at t

hey at at t
keep testing me

we write under this user name only
come get some
we just read this
pretty sure the writer of this piece
did not mean to write 91st
we tried to decipher
but we are but
his mere

Salmabanu Hatim Oct 2017
I was barely even,
From Northern India,my mum's little one,
A child bride,
My husband's family rules I had to abide.
Godnas (tattoos) were mandatory for married women,
So several days after the wedding
An elderly lady came to brand me alone,
Her tool, a needle,she would heat with fire,
Burn my skin and fill with colour pigment on and on she would not tire,
No anaesthetic  to numb the pain,
No cream to heal the skin.
I had several tattoos,
Subjugated  without any ados.
Now, my daughter is a different version,
She is a rebellion,
Refused to have the tattoos done,
I supported her and she won.
Rural Indian women of certain tribes had to be tattooed. It was compulsory or they would be treated as impure.
D Jul 2017
you branded me
angry red marks soiling soft skin
my body now a cage to the wild soul within

and like a stallion, i love you more when i'm broken
The Writer Jun 2017
pain unfurls in my chest
a reminder of loss
that will
even when forgotten
forever branded into my mind
eternally scarred into my heart
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