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A borrowed history
A second hand life
A true heritage denied.
This stranger sapling grafted to your family tree.
And the story told, to them and me;
“ You were chosen, you are special, we were lucky...”

So you won.
Here's your prize;
A commodity baby, a charity child
Love conditionality and gratitude implied.
Woken from connection and amniotic peace
To a secret story of threefold grief.
The first of a some poems about my closed adoption... I couldn't have written this while my Dad was still alive, as it would have hurt him.  I have more positive poems about adoption and identity which will make themselves apparent, as they do.  This is not the whole story, but it is truth.
Io Jul 1
Your arm hurts, stings
Piercing your skin, let the blood flow
No, you feel something
Weighted, sinking, chest collapsing, pressure.
Bright white,
Partially broken lights flash above you, sterile white suns imprinting phantoms onto your eyes. You’ve always hated flashing lights, they gave you nightmares. You didn’t want nightmares, you didn’t want to dream at all really.
The light faded as you closed your heavy eyes, hopefully for the-

“Try and keep your eyes open as long as possible, okay?”.

“Don’t sleep just yet”.

Tallulah Jun 5
Shed your skin
Let everything in
This can't go,
It won't go
If you can't slip away from this skin.
The only deadly snake in Britain is the python but, it seems that there are plenty of snakes,
of the deadly kind,
inside your mind.
And, any sane snake scholar would tell you that a snake's fang is where it's venom is kept but, I'm not a snake scholar..
I say the deadliest part is it's skin.
The skin must be shed, to
let everything go.
dadens Apr 18
from the crack of the door that is closing
i observe your new love blossom

until now i've only known you as two things:
my lover and an utter stranger

i never knew you as you loved another
and i wish i never had to

so with great pain i must shut this door
and wish you farewell
Poetic T Feb 27
The bruises where torn petals,
           that fell with every word.

The thorns cutting it to my mind.

And when I was adorned with the
                  blossom of your actions.

I would never rise to another sunrise.
CautiousRain Jan 28
These doors are shut,
can't you see that?

I've got half a mind to let you hear
my screaming rattled insides,
but I know better.

I know better than to subject you
to the ever compressing, binding,
and oppressive part of my existence
just so you can play pretend
with who you think I am.

Stop acting as though one of you can
hold a key to the door,
taunt my demons out to prowl,
and make love to the idea of me;
you are no knights in shining armor,
and surely, you can see
I'm not open to visitors.
so tired
so exhausted
so mind-numbingly weak
Mirror on the ceiling
You're giving me a million reasons
Came down the mountain
Sweet an sour
Click, Snap, Fall
Over and again
Can this go on
Want to be the one
To speak her name as mine
Trapped in the open
A closed mind
Can't leave
It's in my DNA
Cold in my kingdom size
Got a lot of leaving left to do
Trapped in the open
A closed mind
How to escape
Soon, it'll be time
You could
We can't
What if I tell you
I don't understand
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