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Miss Fit Jan 2021
I cleaned them one
Time. I thought I was done
I even dried them on a white towel
They were dry, well
They seemed clean
They should have been

Until I stepped on a white floor
I hadn't stepped outside the door
So I wondered where I got all that mud
Like I'd been walking miles
Now tracking dirt on my mother's white tiles
I wiped the dirt
Kneeling on my skirt
And got up with a smile
That lasted but a while

I cleaned them twice
I lathered
I rinsed
I repeated
They were clean indeed!
Then the test came again
I was ready, for I believed Not in working in vain
But I failed it yet again
And even worse
It felt like a curse
I tracked blood

Miss Fit [the lady king]
Anais Vionet Jul 2020
The witch lies conjuring lines of verse
to alter our place in the universe
to twist this common knowing
and spin such miracles as love.

A flash of light and a cackle of laughter
it seems I got what I was after
as your eyes fall on me hungrily
my world now mirrors my dreams.

How bright our future seems.
Then a witches warning: "2000
mornings of love have you ‘til natural
laws return - death's padlock will be opened
if the stolen love you haven't earned."

What bitter lessons greed can teach
when we twist the fates to heaven reach.
A poem of stolen love's desires
Eva Jun 2020
Impossible love,
You were a thousand miles away
I was never meant to say
“Impossible love“,
When I look at you I see
All the weaknesses within me.
Ties that bind are not easily broken.
What did you inherit in your bloodline?
For the fruit is a product of the vine.
We are the consequences of words spoken.
Our Ancestors sin is not forgotten,
planting seeds that grew into bitter wine.
They may have passed but we still pay the fines.
Their silence left us nothing but tokens.

The curses may last four generations,
but the blessings endure for a thousand.
We want to leave a good inheritance.
Elders to fight we need your confessions.
To dig and allow the cycle to end,
in order to give the next ones a chance.
What are things ? that you got honest from your family tree? the bigger the tree the deeper the roots
I loved you at your darkest
You only loved me at my brightest
Your silent tears were an illusion
As you devoured me until depletion
A thousand curses on the hands which broke me
And a thousand curses on the ones which you see
You will never forsake me again.

Bha gaol agam ort aig an àm as dorcha
Cha robh gaol agad orm ach aig an ìre as soilleire
B 'e manadh a bh' anns an deòir sàmbach agad
Fhad 's a bha thu gam ithe gus an robh mi air falbh
Mìle mallachd air na làmhan a bhuail mi
Agus mìle mallachd air na fheadainn a chi thu
Cha trèig thu mi a-chaoidh truilleadh
Orion Jul 2019
Whispering in blessed curses
Under whine-tilted breaths
Fluttering eyes and furred chest
Beholden to a man left nonplussed

Begging and borrowing
Stealing burning touches from dewy skin
Whimpers cried into pillows within
Nails digging and hitched sighs following

Soft, searing serenades seek
Saints die to find heaven in something more
Dying small deaths for a moth adored
Writing patience with circled fingers over tongue and teeth

Pupils pulled into tiny beads
Staring up through lamplight lit lenses
Some bruises kissed splendid
Neck-, shoulder-, and lip-bitten pleads
Twaffle Jun 2019
Shattered glass, endless scream,
taunting curses and horrifying dreams.
The little girl stares, her dead and clouded eyes
directed to the two arguing figures, spitting truth and lies.

She hugged her stuffed toy, as tight as she could
as she glance at the table served with cold food.
Where did it go?...she wondered,
the loving parents that held both of her hands.

Daddy, the most respectful man she knew,
was now hitting her mother, punching and kicking was now nothing new.
Mommy, the most warm and caring person she have known,
was now spouting bad words at her, with her cold eyes she've shown.

Was it worth it? To argue and yell in front of your child?
To let them see this kind of nightmare that will hunt them for life.
Fighting won't resolve anything, and spitting random curses of words will just destroy 'everything'.

Now tell me, was it worth it?
Many children have been victims of this kind of environment, and unfortunately some of them have strayed to a path they've never wanted to go through.
neth jones Apr 2019
Tattle calls
Curses amongst the Merchants
They hack of new seasons
brided with ill weather
These social breaks
that cement their business relations ;
A ****** of Tongues
A Jinn
A wit that flees port
Fleas to the ears that scout town.
Toxic yeti Nov 2018
I have no past no present and no future.
I am a ghost.
I am the walking dead.
I pray to god for my own death.
End this mental prison that
I am cursed.
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