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Orion Sep 11
Biting bitten lips

Your body is inescapable and a temple all in one

Can you believe the smiles that crack the dried skin held together by saliva, courage, and mediocrity,

You lay in bed with a lead pipe feeding through your lungs

You breathe as mucus drips, a soft echo inside the metal,

Stale granola crumbs still sit upon your nose and you don’t have the energy to swat them away like flies upon rotting fruit

You’ve become too sweet, too weak

Your skin bruising without warning

You love the strange lingering pain but you wish you could tap at it with the exhausted arms at your sides

I’m sorry but you’re left to feel as big as you are, taking the space you have claimed

I know you want to feel small, but if you do that, you may not wake up

Let yourself heal in the space you are given so you can shrink when the time calls for it
Zane Smith Sep 4
L
The prettiest girl
with her ****** curls
a genuine muse,
but to her she sees dark blues.
I wish she could love herself
as much as I do.
Six years and counting
we're so strong and secure,
I want to provide everything for her.
My soulmate, my bestfriend
I promise we will never be put to an end.
We've been through it all together,
honestly I believe it's been for the better.
Our bruises have taught us how to love
how to fight, how to cry, how to fly.
For you I'd do anything
because to me your worth absolutely everything,
There's so much more to come
so bubs just keep holding on.
Don't ever think I'm not by your side,
my love for you will never die.
You are my world,
the moon,
and the sky.
Thank you for lifting me up,
even when life gets really rough.

Love you forever
A lil something I wrote up about one of my favorite people on this planet. She is my rock and so much more. The amount of respect and trust I have for her is endless.
I miss us.
I miss your eyes and their sparkle.
I miss the way you looked at me.
I miss the sweetness of your lips on my skin,
And the tingle your touch left even hours later.
I miss us.
I miss everything we were
Everything we could've been
Everything we had.
I miss all of it.
But I don't miss you.
I don't miss your harsh hands.
I don't miss your hateful glares
Or the burning rash your hands left on my skin even days later.
I miss us,
But I could never miss you
Pyrrha Aug 25
Falling in love is so painful
It leaves me covered in a galaxy of bruises
Just like the ones that fill his eyes and cover his heart
Phoenix Aug 18
I'm not a book,
yet you always judge me.
I'm not your footpath,
yet you walk all over me.
I'm not a card game,
yet you continue to play me.
I'm not a sand bag,
yet you insist on punching me.

I don't care.
Do what ever it takes until you realize

I'm nothing


like



you.
Sometimes I feel that everyone is doing better than me in some way. I know it's not right to compare my own life to others', but it's a bad habit of mine.

                            corners of mouths
when blackened eyes have gone numb
blood weeps out corners of mouths
when blackened eyes have gone numb
blood weeps out corners of mouths
when blackened eyes have gone numb
blood weeps out corners of mouths
when blackened eyes have gone numb
blood weeps out corners of mouths
when blackened eyes have gone numb
blood weeps out corners of mouths
when blackened eyes have gone numb
blood weeps out corners of mouths
when blackened eyes have gone numb
blood weeps out corners of mouths
when blackened eyes have gone numb
blood weeps out corners of mouths
when blackened eyes have gone numb
blood weeps out                              



-
by Aleksander Mielnikow (Alek the Poet)
Hanna C S Jul 13
The first time was in the bathroom
Of a club I was four years too young for;
Lessons will be learnt;
Bent over a broken sink;
With my face pressed against the mirror;
My mascara ran rivers down the glass
Carving lines that looked like prison bars.
With rough hands;
He reached inside me;
And broke instruments I hadn’t yet touched;
No wonder I can’t play love songs,
I am still learning how to make love to people I actually love;
But my 14 years were too few to be angry
Didn’t quite know how
Didn’t know quite what he’d done;
And what that might do.
So I hid my thighs and ribs for three weeks ashamed;
My fake ID collected dust
Buried beneath my bed and self-blame.

That first encounter,
Left me frozen in an un-safe
space I couldn’t name
So I wanted time to stop its ticking,
Hold its breath and bite it’s tongue with me
An indefinite moment of silence to commemorate the crime committed,
But lessons would be learnt
As to my horror the cogs in the clocks kept rolling,
Every day since has stacked upon the last,
Racking up years
15: it took more than 365 days to dare to share the guilt,
16:  over 730 to absolve myself,
17: 1095 to say what had happened out loud.

The second time was in my kitchen,
He was a friend between blurred lines;
And ten drinks too many;
Lessons will be learnt.
I don't remember leaving with him
Or getting home.
But I’ve never known how to have *** sober so I guess it’s my fault too.
I woke up with an ache and my shoes still on.
There were no bruises; we are still friends; and I still don’t know who to blame.

The third time,
I was walking home, the air was fresh,
I had my headphones on;
Lessons will be learnt.
His fingers were dry and nails sharp as I froze;
It felt familiar;
His breath was hot;
Soaked wet with alcohol.
The bricks hit my back hard
But I like to think my knuckles hit harder.
I saw my mother the week after
I did not cry as I explained a  purple hand.
At least I had known where to aim it.

The fourth time,
I knew he was dangerous and I liked it,
Lessons will be learnt
With my hands bound above my head
He took control and mine with it;
He savoured every scream I spat;
So I, silently simmering, left my body there sickly still.
I am not a believer
but I told him he’d rot in a hotter part of hell
As he unbuckled me with a malboro red and a laugh that I choked on
So I took the cigarette and gave him a dose of what the devil will do for me,
A small vengeance that burnt like the venom in my veins

I have felt like flames so many times now
Been consumed by violent flickers,
That set this bloodied body ablaze,
But even the biggest bonfires burn out,
And I am no different
My bones are black with char like wearied wood
So when I take the train home I count my bruises;
I'm unsure which ones were left without consent.
there is no such thing as non-consensual ***. There is only *** and assault.
That being said, when it happens so many times, you start to wonder who is really to blame. I don't like this poem, and I'm sure I will rewrite it many times - But certain things must be said.
Hanna C S Jul 13
And I hope you don't notice the rip in my underwear;
Burnt into the fabric by a since forgotten love affair.
I hope you don't notice the scratches she left behind;
Or the bruises he hid between the crevices there.
So as I show you my skin,
And pass it into your care,
I hope you still want me,
Fully aware,
You are not the first explorer,
Nor last lone-traveller,
To build a bed upon this body lain bare.
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