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K-ROB May 8
I’m stuck in my dungeon,
trapped with no way out.
Nothing to do but eat, sleep and think
I messed up,
But nobody deserves this.
No phone, no car...
Little contact with friends.
Lindsay can’t come to St. Louis.
I can’t go to Buffet
I can’t wait to go back to school!

I’m drowning in my self pity.
It’s a downright shame.
Where do I go?
Who do I blame?
Myself, but not completely!
I’m banging on the door,
Trying to pound my way out
But there is no answer,
Just ignorance and pride,
On the other side!

Do I stay or do I go?
Do I stick around or do I flee?
Do I think of them or if me?
That is the unanswered question
I might know the answer; I don’t recall...
They make themselves feel BIG by making me feel small.
Who needs counseling again?
That just isn’t healthy!
Man, how I wish I was wealthy!
Then there would be no questions on what to do!

That’s what makes me happy, them.
No place to go,
I wish it wasn’t so.
I’m stuck and imprisoned,
A prisoner in my own home, with no key.
Rock bottom is what I just hit
It’s a new destination,
A new and different place,
And I just can’t escape.
I wrote this poem in high school when I was grounded. Talk about dramatic. Now in  I know where my daughter gets it lol. I am posting this one now because I think everyone can relate at this time with the virus. It’s not as bad as it seems though, definitely not Rock bottom
Poetic T Feb 15
I wasn't the flower in a vase,
          more like in amber,

Captured within a vessel
of unreachable ambiguity.

I was seen but not heard,
                a silent movie of beauty,

That screamed silently,

                                  but was
         smiling on the outside.

My other half, was the remote,
                 batteries never inserted
so instead hitting the screen but

not where bruises could be seen..

For perfection shouldn't be blemished.

They didn't have a mute button,
   only loud when alone..


Was the catalyst for the repercussions
         of anothers manners,

         but I never answered back,

but still I was flirting with my looks..

I'm freely caged, never able to fly..
       Instead I perch clipped wings

never aloud to fly beyond there eyesight.
Siren Nov 2019
Seemed relief.
Let in the belief,
I'd be in control.

Hasty find,
the foxhole.
Is this foxhole safe?
MSunspoken Nov 2019
The dawn of dusk turns gold to dust
The moon shares my loneliness-
A sliver of thread comes out the hem
Of my finely crafted soul

A whisper lost for sound
Spoken ever so slightly-
Is the tale of those forever loved
And justly making my heart unsightly

A knock in the chest
Is the gale pulling me forward-
To follow my path previously paved
And continue on
though circumstances grave and uncertain

A howl with the alluring pull of an end
Echoing through my head-
Encouraging the drop so certain
Threatening to fill my peers with dread

Walking on a web of steel
Following the intricate delicacy-
Of the memories I once foresaw
But fade with the lost souls in which there was once an abundance

Lightest touch so soft
Caressing the soul so teasingly-
Daring one to follow the day as it shrivels
Pushing the last bits of gold to their extent

Lost in a maze of lies
Each stone crafted with careful hands-
Deceiving one to no end
And hoping that the day will end
This sin't part of my challenge, but recently I have been thinking about those I've lost in the past. At one point we have all taken someone for granted, which makes a sudden loss much harder to swallow. Grief is a killer, and allowing it to take over your mind will only dig you deeper. This is from my experience at least.
A photograph expresses
controlled puppet moment.


we will express through
uncontrolled flowing app’s.

© Feelings Coated
Yeah,, most do …Ms Alexa but we will let the blood hearties express through
uncontrolled flowing app’s.
Jodie Davies Sep 2019
Like a blue raven that cries
in another language,
you whisper only to the
consoling ears of a black dog.  
Your wilted wings weep
at the smallest misfortune.
Your dewy eyes remind him of
the frost that stayed last winter.
The one that showed up unannounced
and confined you to your bed.
Harbouring a resolution,
like you too long for an end.
His smile is sinister,
a black hole, slime slicked
and drooling at the edges.
To you it utters only lies.
But you can’t help falling in love.
You devote your body to him,
as you pluck your feathers one by one:
He loves you, he loves you not.
He loves you, he loves you not.
You’re devoured by a void without him,
Scavenging for hope in the one that
relents to destroy any trace of it.
He has so much of you that you’ve forgotten
you own yourself.
When the tatted feathers from your worn-out wings
break free in the wind,
you wish you too were freed.
Your fallen feathers float gently to the ground,
merely a reminder of a place you wish to be.
You became a raven for the black dog
though you never asked him to change.
Look down over the city above which you fly…
Did you forget you are afraid of heights?
Losing who you are in the process of pleasing those around you.
B D Caissie Sep 2019
It’s never good when you find out there’s strings attached. It’s even worse when you find out you’re the puppet.

Ruheen Aug 2019
A lost king alone in his palace.
A king who made mistakes,
And lives in debt.
He drove them away.
Ruined his home,
Soon to be killed,
Old and frail.
Repays day by day,
By remaining lonely.
It's a small price to pay,
For all he's caused.
The games he's played.
He drove away his Queen, now. Didn't he?
Don't they?
Let her fight for him.
She was living in multiple alternated realities
constantly fought solis against luna you know
while experiencing delusions and fighting slavery

...Inside of his domestic kingdom,
she figured out who's characters were for show.

Oh god, the ways in which she revealed her own darkness sometimes was sickening but manipulation had before held her captive.
She became a victim with no strength to respond any other way than being passive.

This so-called king possessed weapons of puppetry and diluted morals, she applied fresh lipstick to her face and got ready to constantly give him oral.

Over & over again she misplaced her caring art, seemed to have mastered her heartlessness into a form of art.

Forever she remained mute, nobody sensed her pain if she sat there playing cute.
She stuttered whenever she tried to use her voice, people judged her for being quiet like if it was her own ******* choice.

...Trauma lingered in her mind and on her face, to whom it did not concern as long as she was cooperative dressed in lace.

She was fully aware this darkness she had endured may have triggered inside of her a personality disorder, as she crawled on her knees & repeatedly gave in to his wretched & violating orders.

She was no longer the same proper creature, she was all over the place and possessed heartless features.
How was she supposed to be sure of what she truly feels?
When she could not even tell apart delusions from what is real.

Developing h.p.p.d
Authors note*
Wrote this piece in hopes of reaching out to anyone out there who might be struggling with giving in to ****** peer pressure. ****** peer pressure is still ****** assault. You are not a puppet, you are entitled to the right to your body & your right to say no. If something doesn't feel right or you wish to hold yourself up to having higher values/standards, then by all means put your foot down. Don't settle for selfish lovers, be so busy loving yourself in the meantime until you find someone who respects your body and mind, rather than plays with them for their own pleasure. In case nobody told you today, you are worthy and your feelings are valid. You do not have a job here on earth to please others, sexually or in any way. I love you. <3
Thanks for taking the time to read my story.
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