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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 28
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
write

then pretend
you will be
all right
one two three
none
of
you
know me

take my footsteps
with grains
of
salt

pucker your mouth
watch me stomp

report my manners
after you block me
your form
of
religion
must have

swung
from
trees

we

are just in an shell
of
flesh

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

not
that

no no no

why et y
why
et
y


we 91st good thing for my soul
block my whole
report me
hey me
banned
that
Will
never
change who I am


stupid
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
editor
...
..
.


...
..
.
...
..
.
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
done,
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.
The Writer Jun 2017
pain unfurls in my chest
a reminder of loss
that will
never
go
away
even when forgotten
forever branded into my mind
eternally scarred into my heart
Flo Jun 2016
Running away
An eternal struggle
Fighting against suppressed feelings
Feeling displaced
Located in a world of my own
A world so strange...
I don't belong here...

I'm just a misfit
Branded by society
Trapped by my own peculiarity
Free to imagination...
Grace Aug 2015
Wish I could lose you
Slip through burn holes in my brain
Alice in wonderland wormholes
A reality galaxies from mine

Instead you remain
The purple imprinted to my eyelids
The melting skyline
Kissing me in its soft glow

Instead I cannot find me
Beneath the folds
Of your ribcage
Peek-a-boo through bones
Glimpses of light
Radiating through your skin
Is only of who I used to be
Hannah f Jun 2015
I didn't ask to be pulled into this world
Ripped out of the quiet and comfort of the womb
To be branded and twisted into what they want
Another mindless worker, another dollar
They want you to think life is about work
It's not, life is about LIVING
The sadness I see in a crowd is unbearable
Everyone longs to free themselves
Of these heavy shackles of society
So tell me, fellow beings
How do we break free?
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