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Allen James Feb 8
Freedom is a stranger
and I am but a child,
Heeding the panic
of a mother's love.
Jiya Feb 6
the blink of an eye was enough to scare
poor little julia into despair
clutching onto her favourite teddy bear
our poor little julia found herself dead

stabbed in the chest
an excerpt from a song im working on at the moment
Geant Feb 5
The perpetual flecked flit, flit.
The constant playful grey dance
Fills your view
For as far as your desire
Recalling beaches stretching farther than your small eyes can see.
Sunshine pressing deliciously on your back.
Timeless days so vivid
So fun
So carefree
So simple.
Dashing into waves that crash
And envelope you completely
With squeals
And tingling
And blinking back the boiling, frothing, dazzling sea,
As you are obliviously plunged again
Into its playful depths.
Bounding up
In pure joy
That will tug and tear at your heart.
Chris Feb 3
That crying child.
It's me, but I don't cry.
A man grown, It's unseemly.
That bitter man.
It's me, but I still smile.
I hide the **** misery.
That rotten corpse.
It's me, but I'm alive,
Still kicking and screaming,
But I will taste no victory.
Calliope Feb 1
My skin remained untarnished for 81 days.
But last night, it became too much.
5 cuts on my wrist;

One for every year I let you abuse me
mars Jan 31
If they don’t believe you
they don’t deserve to
be apart of your story.

You shouldn’t have to explain
Chris Jan 29
A kiss before sleep, a sweet song and rest,
as it should be as it always is,
With sweet fingers of fate, the head is undressed,
To bare the dreams that lie beneath.

A river will call to run and to hide,
But her sweet voice is calming and warm,
Sleep sweetest child, soon you will die,
Wake up a man with heart full of storm.

The trail on the floor will guide you to Him,
As many a boy, since and before,
To room full of life yet ****** and dim,
Follow my child the trail on the floor.

The hall of hearts will take you in,
It gives something pretty  in return,
It covers with marble your  pale white skin,
And leaves you to rot in its endless room.

A circle you exit, you never escape,
It will beat, and beat and give no rest,
You will be strong and you will be safe,
And you'll live your life with a hole in your chest.
A reflection on the abuse I endured and may not have survived as a child, heavy with metaphore, don't try to understand, you'll go mad as I did. :)
grace Jan 29
i scrub the thoughts away with water and acid
soap isn't enough so bleach in cuts it's all that should remain
in the damaged figure that has begun to become my body
my heart aches at the sight of blood but it opens me up for more opportunities
in my body grows the leaves of the others
who have been waiting to be set free
branches bring my lungs to collapse
as my body becomes life for two others
she was a tree
The tree of life
The story of a new mother who's family and partner abandoned her. She struggles to make ends meet for her two unborn children, and thinks of all the things they could have. She opens up "holes" or "cuts" in herself to make room for what they need. Complications arise and she dies giving birth (in this case life) to two children who will take her place.
mars Jan 28
The flowered bed sheets of the motel where we lay
he showed no mercy on the Atlantic coast
used me again and kissed me.

I only remembered the oceans roll
and the visions of a unshaved beard,
the feeling of dread when he locked the door and unzipped his jeans.

Sandcastle fell over
and the sharks swam away
watching the walkway from the motel bedroom,
waiting for him to come back an let me out.

This is a ****** of a child's innocence and he held it over the seas the shadow of my life changes into bone
until my ****** becomes a whole other being,
so powerful it gave me an STD at the age of 11.
Thoughts are doubled in my head and the dark air has no name.

I call out for who may be there but nobody answers, only the step-step-stepping of my uncle coming in the motel for more.
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