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Pulse Oct 4
My mother was dead before I came into the world,

I know not what killed her, only that something did.

Standing in her place was something that tore through words and the mind’s fragile shields,

Brought me down to levels I was sure could not get any lower and then continued to do so.

But I only figured it out, truly figured it out, when she didn’t stop him, when she just watched.

You see, what hurt my mother the most, despite all she screamed and yelled,

Despite her talent for reducing me to a sobbing mess of myself,

A mess that couldn’t be pieced back together again,

He loved me more.

Even when I didn’t want him to, he loved me more.

My mother was not the most beautiful thing in the world, she was only the loudest.

And not even the loudest thing can hold your attention for long.

To him, I was beautiful for my silence.

And to her, I was a knife to the throat.
saw a prompt for 'mother's injury' and this is what happened
none Aug 29
my body overrun by invaders
like still-breathing meat
but I could fight and get revenge
that boy I made bleed and cry

and then like stealth it became again
a girl like me, heartless
showed me how to hurt and discard
even each other.

and then like a bad dream, again
my body taken, grinded and contorted
tempered into nothing but base flesh
for no purpose but evil pleasure

and then another came, again...
she locked me in her room
slicked her body to mine
I ran through a moth eaten hallway.

and then....again. I grew tired.
he, who told me I *** too used
complained of my knowledge
he liked virgins the most.

There is nothing but heat
a blackness in my heart
I care not for them.
for they repent nothing for me.
willow Aug 21
When you hear the ringing bells,
you’ll know the time has come
but it’ll be too late for you
to make up for the lost youth.

When you lose what you thought
you’d always have,
you learn how to care
when it is needed.

When the earth smells like sin
you find the truth buried underneath
it’s been years but
it has not changed a little bit.

When you open your mouth
but nothing is willing to come out,
you fill it with some more guilt instead,
no feeling in your head.

Years might have gone by
but you still can’t escape that place,
he might be gone, yes…
but are you sure he is?
willow Aug 21
I used to be more,
full like the morning sun,
a fool but made of dreams bittersweet.
Grief took over me.
Suddenly? No,
a long process,
I did not notice.

Time passes by unexpectedly
even if you expect it,
it flows and flows,
unbothered by cries,
by dying men,
flowers melting like
my heart every April;
it asks no one
for it has no mouth
to scream and shout,
for it’s not alive
like you are
or like the papers say,
like your mother used to say.

Oh, if only she knew…
you left your self
on the front seat of his car,
too young to sit there
but he didn’t seem to mind.
He should have been terrified
but no. He was calm.
'Not your first time, is it?'
'How dare you?'

There are times when
I simply sit and imagine:
vanilla ice cream turning to liquid,
dripping on my tummy
under the filthy, scorching sun.
It’s cold and I prefer chocolate
and it’s not fair but
I don’t say a thing.

Make it subtle,
invisible it should be,
shush it all away,
it passes so it’s okay.
I’m telling you,
it should be.
And it will be
one day.
I'll make myself believe
I can be more than what he did to me
ari Aug 17
Thank You,
for taking your hands; rough and calloused,
and putting them on me
Thank you,
For shoving your cigarette stained fingers down my throat
and dangling them there
Like spider legs
Thank you for training me, like a dog
Now, I don’t have a gag reflex
Thank you for taking me; an affection starved kid, fatherless
And making me your own
Thank you for teaching me how to love like an adult
After all, I was always so mature for my age, wasn’t I?
Thank you, Joel, for taking away the girl that I was
And making me something better
Thank you for the violence
Thank you for the candy, and the flowers
Thank you, for the lovely memories
Thank you for making me strong.
dana hughes Aug 13
insects under my skin
they're there they're there they're there
you're there

redacted oh redacted
i dream about maggots eating your eyes

the only justice i will ever find is in my dreams
maybe that's why i sleep all the time
mars Jul 2
Cosmic projections underlying in spaces
as warm sunburnt bodies move together across the floor
purple lights in neon glow attached to the ceiling,
mind spinning with the fluorescence.
And youth- your mind is spinning with how young you are
only seventeen
you carry the burden in your stomach the sadness on your shoulder.
You are much too young to have abundant regrets
to be living yet dead in a bitter grave.
Wrong choices overlap each other as the grave gets deeper- I know that sometimes it feels hopeless.
Banter with old friends about the aliens and rehab centers, the girl who taught you four square teaching you how to torch the end of a crack pipe.
Cycles of the same tornadoes, dreams of constant death,you’ve seen your best friends dead body more times than you will admit. Yet they’ve never imagined yours, or imagined you, or cared.
The rose colored glasses are ripped from your face given to the other unsuspecting girl who will walk the same journey I did with him.
One-sided friendships get lonely
lovers are no longer loving
and the pino has run out.
The purple lights manifest into messages coming across the lifeline simulation- Give up those who have fallen silent, your mission is not with them.
The mission is uncertain
get a man to prison
to watch a wild orca
have a family
but the process is daily.
My mission right now is to live freely let my hair grow and stick my head out the window singing Janis Joplin tunes on the 105.5
The aliens come through once again to extend long hands and acid tabs offering insight into treasures unknown.
Time capsules I have yet to bury.

The great thing about cycles is you can stop them.
mars Jul 2
God bless the children-
As they step off the school bus
To a soccer ball, summer camp, popsicle joke stick.
Bless those who return home to empty refrigerators-
Static television and *****.
Bless the airplane rides, holding onto the edge of a seat
landing into a world where their body-
is no longer their own.
Daytime heat rising off the road
walking barefoot from the community pool,
still an aching between legs.
Bless this sky, the grass, God Bless America
And the fireworks that set fires in our bellies
Bless lightning bugs making stars in a starless black sky
Waiting for the moon to move from behind the sheet
Guide the blessed children
summer camp
soccer ball
lila Jun 23
i look back at the girl i was
when it happened and
darling, you were so young
you didn’t deserve to be treated that way
or to have to grow up that fast
i wish i could’ve protected you and
told you that you were safe
and that you didn’t have to
destroy yourself
because you didn’t want to be in
the same body he touched

you thought you carried
your faults on your skin
so you tore it open

i was a body hollowed out
a skeleton with shattered bones
he ripped off my wings
and emptied me of all light
now all you’ll find
is black paint in careless streaks
across my weary heart
tired of beating

a ***** rotting thing
held a lighter to a match
not as smart as you might think
so i burned
and returned
to ash again

i remember this in little flashes
noises, smells, words
hit my brainstorm like lightning bolts
and take me right back to
a frightened little girl
blurred visuals projected
like a picture show i didn’t want to see
and i freeze

my senses swarmed in radio static
and nothing around me is real anymore
not that the broken memories
of buried innocence in an unmarked grave
felt any more concrete
i can hear my panicked
heartbeat thumping like thunder
in my chest while thoughts
run wild through my mind
reverberating around my brain
until they whirred enough
to release cacophonous screams

is it too much to ask to forget
these little incendiary flashes
because they burn me from the inside
and turn me back to ashes
but memories don’t work like that
they don’t dissipate or shrink
no matter how hard you try

secrets turn to cement in my lungs
and i’m drowning in them
suffocating, coughing, wheezing
every time i try to speak
i choke because it’s not over
unless he says it is

to be polite
i keep this twisted sickness inside of me
but i long to cut myself open
and rip the tangled mess
of trauma from my chest
throw it down where everyone can see
because i’m so tired
of keeping this in for so long

i’ve only ripped myself open
to know it was real
because i’m just a terrified child
but the world doesn’t stop
the natural progression of
a child with secrets
to an adult with depression

no one cares
when they see someone like me
hunched over her own bleeding guts
splattered on the sidewalk
apologizing to pedestrians
about her own carnage
because she didn’t mean it
as a call for attention

but god, i wish they did
if only the world would stop for a moment
so i can collect these thoughts
and piece them together in way
i can explain why
i’m bleeding out in front of you
and ask for you
to reach out your hand
and rescue me
from this unrighteous ruining
and help me rise from these ashes
Pulse May 24
i wish my body wouldn't fail me;
limbs tensing and refusing to respond to my commands,
lungs suddenly unable to draw air,
heart pounding with such intensity it leaves my body shuddering,
or maybe the trembling is just because you're sitting too close and it makes me want to puke.

i feel as solid as air,
and as sturdy as a china doll that's already fallen to the ground a thousand times,
and come out of it as little more than dust and waning hope

the disconnect between my body and my mind widens every day that goes by until i don't know who i am anymore or who's body i inhabit.
there's no one home and you might as well have killed me the first night, because it would have been so much kinder.
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