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el Mar 20
AM I DESTINED TO BE LIKE YOU?
TO BECOME YOU?
IS THIS WHAT YOU’RE PREPARING ME FOR?
THE EVER DUTIFUL WORKAHOLIC,
OH GOD FORBID YOU EVER HAVE SOME PERSONAL FUN!
I AM NOT YOU.
I DON’T WANT THIS LIFE
IS THAT WHAT YOU’RE “PROTECTING” ME FROM?
A LIFE OUTSIDE OF THIS MISERY?
You will carve every bit of me out,
Piece by piece
Until I am a shell of myself,
Ready to be filled with your idea of a life
I don’t want your life.
Please,
Set me free.
el Mar 20
I don’t know why you keep doing this to me
It’s like you get a thrill out of it
I am not your toy doll
You cannot discard me when I no longer interest you
You cannot keep my locked away in a dark closet
I want to see the world,
I deserve to see the world
I can’t go on like this
Heidi Franke Feb 2
He was in his cell
Twenty three hours a day
Never was he an animal
Yet treated as such

The echoes off the walls, bounce
The metal doors that clang, bang
Endless boredom after
All the books are read
He paces his eight feet

Gray dulls the senses
Lack of color, lack of life
He saw a bug inside
The other day, alive
Looking up at him
Another form of life, different,almost brand new
His voice filled with hope through the Pauses

It rained and the summer was hot
They were released for the hour
Choices that are made in that precious time
He went outside where there is only the cement
Laid on his back, spread his arms like an eagle, like an offering
Letting the rain Fall onto him,
just so He could feel Something
Sharing the experiences between a mother and son. The son is incacerated. Too many non violent people are imprisoned for far too long.
Alex McQuate Jan 2023
Calm hearts,
And charitable minds,
All my thoughts are shattered glass,
At such a moment and time.

Where I feel like I need to shout at the top of my lungs,
Veins in my forehead bulging,
Face scrunched up,
A roar akin to some great wounded animal,
One who has some wicked spear in its side.

But it is not out of anger, pain, or pride,
Instead, it is from all the energy still in my body,
Begging to be let out.

A tiger in a cage,
Who paces from side to side,
The tiger that knew of the wild before,
Who wishes to get back to the jungle,
But not knowing it will ever get out.
Madame Vai Apr 2022
This hatred
soaks into my bones.

Bouquets of plastic flowers
The smell of cigarettes
and used rubbers
saturate my senses

A sweet kiss
a deluge of poison
armistice broken
for selfish desire

This drought
this doubt
this never ending fear
it grinds against my soul

Do you even know me?
Am I even here?
Crashing into bars
of a gilded cage

The bird with clipped wings
Grounded
A song of melancholy
lingers in the air
Sophie Mar 2022
midnight black arabian prince,
his neck, impressed by the wired
fence
holding him back forever
from the woman of his dreams.
        dark horse
they came for him in the evening
soft, dimming sunlight grazed his eyes
an endurance horse, for one hundred miles
they wanted him but
        he was lazy
his inclination was to stand still
to stroll slowly about a green pasture
forevermore
forevermore, his dream,
spent on his own name.

he fell in love with the mare
on the other side
of the wired fence
she teased him, an older woman,
awakened his rebel soul,
inspired to break out
of this arbitrary cage
his courage and his passion
only roused by love by desire
something a human would not understand
could not understand
not in the same way

he felt alone he felt trapped inside himself
so he tore down the fence,
cut his legs on the wires
just to be close to
       her
to brush his nose against her
sharpened spine, inhale the scent of
dust mixed with love mixed with
pheromones,
for only a moment
that could extend into
       forever
encapsulated in his memory
a snapshot: one piece
of chaotic bliss
amidst all that running
the flying floating cloud of dust
still chases him.

though he no longer runs in fear
no longer gallops away,
lazily trots, hooves dragging sand,
happy under his bold, italian rider
she doesn’t come around
often enough.
today he is young but
soon he will be aged by experience,
wherever they send him,
he has no real home,
only belongs to the night sky,
only matches the color of darkness,
i hope he remembers the way i tickled his lips and
fed him handfuls of dead grass.
he could be gone tomorrow because
animals do not choose their homes anymore.
Twenty-four years’ marriage certificate released today
Mirrors cracked, tragedy lives where apathies traces.
We, create only a smaller voice than
the angels, have crouched hopes in   

We, A Mountain, An Ocean, or at A Journey
Gazing sky, we see no woman and children play

Tears which she planted in a frozen hut are exposed
The tears are saved and we have vases of sorrow drink 

Unfairness imprisoned herself inside this cage
The sorrow that was building transforms rage

And fire within us naturally grow

We, A Mountain, An Ocean, or at A Journey

The Truth, The Sun and all about her fairness right
Armed for slaughter, her mouths spilling words
Mountains echo as we choke on an ocean of sorrow

An end with hopes is what we patiently await.
Note: For a chained woman who been human trafficked
in China.
I S A A C Feb 2022
cultural burnout, the hurt bubbling up
cannot put a lid on it any longer
the feelings keep getting stronger
my muscles ache, my brain is dazed
cultural burnout, the days slip away
the workweek is all I know
I barely ever leave my home
no escape, no break
inside the cage, this lake
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