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Sarah Caitlyn Jul 2017
He calls for her in the night
From his place on the kitchen floor,
Broken bottles scattered about his feet,
He picks up a piece of one,
Holds it loosely in his closed hand.
She comes to him reluctantly,
Her footsteps whispers on hardwood.
He tells her to sit with him,
Amongst his shattered discards,
She lowers herself, silencing protests.
His hand brushes her leg,
Beckons her to come closer.
She swallows her fear, glancing back
In the room she'd left is her life,
Her joy in this nightmare of a house,
There is a wooden crib,
A small boy stirring inside it.
She's almost lost her boy once.  
She moves closer to the man,
Her body trembling with knowledge
Of what comes with their closeness.
His hand moves up her nightgown,
Grazes the marks he left before,
He was fond of leaving them there
Beleiving it claimed his territory.
She shakes, gives him her body
Only hoping it stops his anger,
That she can protect her baby
If only for one more night.
~Sylus
Kristie Townsend Jul 2017
here to go from here?

Nowhere, is my greatest fear

Old habits die hard

Even harder for the emotionally scarred



Whom should I trust?

Will I know the differenence between love and lust?

Should I find 'that man', My Dad, the one I never had

Will it make me, finally, happy? or only, feel more sad?



What does my future hold for Kristie?

from ties that bind, will I finally be set free?

Will I ever meet a man I want to let close, & show him the real me?

Will I ever find true love? will it ever happen to this assertive, scary lady?



I feel as though I am in limbo

I don't know in which direction to go

Trying not to be inpatient, taking it slow

Searching for signs, for my purpose, I do not yet, know



said goodbye to some old faces

cya to some friends I thought I could trust

spend my time visiting lots of new places

keeping my head as ERIC free as I can, JUST!



welcomed into my life, Craig, Julie and Co

I love them like my family, I want the world to know

and from out of dark despair, when I thought there was no one there

Our Love, Respect, Appreciation for one and other, gets stronger and continues to grow



They chose me as their sister, a choice some others didn't get!

They truely love me, no matter, whatever the test results said

I think of them and they of me, each and everyday

Always honest, forever true, they never push me away



So some good has come from the bad

Happier times now begin, following on from the sad

Smiles returning slowly, but surely, look carefully

Starting to feel better, finally, and less poorly, Thankfully
Elissa Deauvall Jul 2017
Be gentle with my heart
It's fragile
Be careful with your words
The voices in my head do enough damage
Be kind with your actions
I've already hurt myself too many times
Nicole Jun 2017
To my ex-girlfriend's rebound,

I was the one who told her you were gay,
so, in a way,
your experience was my fault
and for that I am sorry

While she did not cheat on me with you, you still served a purpose to her in a time of loneliness,
Those moments where she led you to believe that she cared for you and that she wanted something more

And I'm not mad at you for falling for her.
You've seen her,
you've heard her,
felt her touch and
the fire she lit inside when she looked at you

But you also felt the burn of her
leaving you.
You felt the prospect of having time with her tomorrow being ripped away like an old band aid

I know that feeling all too well,
See
I was not quite angry at you for kissing her-- or rather, letting her kiss you and falling for her inconsistency--I felt betrayed

Seeing as I knew you from class where
We'd shared deep poetry with one another,
and though we never spoke individually,
you heard the words that bled from my paper,
you could undeniably feel my devotion to her,
my undying love,
her unbearable significance in my life.
And then you had to rip a band-aid off of me too,
Simply to make yourself feel better

While I'm more than grateful that you disclosed your relations with her,
Trying to guilt trip me and hyperbolize the experience?
That is from where my problem grew

You made it out like I stole her from you when my biggest sense of pride in that relationship came from the fact that I
NEVER
Not even once
Tried to contact her after she broke up with me

Yes,
in the moment I begged for her back

But once I left her bedroom,
That was it.

Yes,
every inch of me cracked under that pressure caused by the sense of drowning that came with her letting me go

And **** right I cried myself to sleep every night
Dreaming that she'd come back

And,
for the second time,
She did.

When she called me that night,
at 3am balling her eyes out
Though skeptical,
I was there for her
She begged for a chance at forgiveness
And I gave it to her

Little did I know that
that same night
You had peeled yourself from her pillows when she asked you to leave
After all the
"kissing"
"cuddling" and
"compliments"

And yet
She.
Called.
Me.

So while I still hold resentment toward you for your vengeance toward me
I thank you for being honest with me, even with the intended malice behind your disclosure

And I shouldn't hold on to this anger any longer:

I heard the pain in your voice when you came for your shoes and found me in her bed instead

I felt your anger as you flaunted your experience with her

And I know your pain at the realization that she lied to you and it all meant very little to her

She did it to me too

Then again, this grudge may be one of the last things still connecting me to her
And maybe I'm not ready to let that go
While writing this I realized that my not seeking her back after she left me may have been an indicator that part of me didn't want her back. She was an extremely toxic person and, while that relationship taught me lessons of love, both good and bad, I can't deny how much it damaged me.
Kathryn Maurine Jun 2017
The Art of Subconscious Illusion is an elusive tendency towards the averse,
             or rather,
the act of lying to oneself

        Oft times you’ll find yourself wondering how...
             …how you lost her…how you lost love…

                            how you lost yourself

         Your mind a jumble of
               spiral static,
         coils of confusion, twisting malevolently,

                             failing and falling,
                   flawed and faulty,
          feeble and fading,

you slowly begin to yearn for a second chance,
        wish that you had performed more charmingly in the blistering tragedy of feelings lost...

but there are few second chances in the misfortunes of life.
      the damage is done, and now you must live with the consequences
       of a dying will to persist in this journey,
                              the ups
                                                the downs
                                the laughter
                                                        ­ the pain
after endless days of convincing yourself you’re not to blame you finally see it for what it is...
                    You made the choice
     you made your bed, and now you must lie in it…

and as you slowly make your way towards the reclining ***** of the soft satin covers you’ll begin to see….

it was not a bed your actions relayed....
                                                                       ....it was a coffin
Gabriel burnS Jun 2017
Out of the blue
And into the black
A thought passed through my head
It was you who crossed my heart
And went right out
The exit wound
Lydia Jun 2017
I am so sick of the crashing cars
The intersections don't make any sense anymore
Everyone's going at the wrong time and it never stopped
I was smiling until I saw smoke
I thought the glass was rain, or fire hydrant had popped, I
Didn't here the sound until I saw him
When they hit, his tire exploded
In a straight-on collision, he pulled over to put his head in his hands
Exasperated relief, he almost made it home
The man on the motorcycle flew over the stoplight
And in that split second we all prayed he sprouted wings and would never come back down
But his vehicle was in pieces hitting my windshield
I was nearly sick at the sound
Dead weight on the road still breathing
I am so sick of never slowing down
It's so impossible
He may never walk again but I couldn't tell you what colour that stoplight was
And the other man won't make it home for dinner
He was so close, did everything right
I hope he kissed his kids before he left that morning
Because he almost didn't make it home
He will. He'll be late but he's coming home.
She isn't.
A humanitarian from my community was killed in a hit-and-run over the weekend. A month ago, I saw my first car crash; a 90 year old in a jeep and a man on a motorcycle. It was the most sickening sound I've ever heard, and I almost passed out according to my father. Today, on the way home from dinner, a man tried to turn left where there was clearly no space and slammed into the driver's side of the car in front of me. The man is alright, he pulled into the shoulder and put his head in his hands on the steering wheel. He was almost home, but somebody was just too impatient. I cannot over stress the importance of safe driving. In the past month, I have seen more recklessness and carnage than I had in my entire life before. This is the third time my writing has tried and failed to capture the damage done by reckless driving. It doesn't have to be this way. Please drive carefully.
Maria Imran May 2017
I'll forget you, right? It can't be that bad, I can't be in that mess again, can I?
It was wed mud I had found myself in, and I hadn't fully recovered from the scars
I can't be in for another damage, not a longer one, not this misery, not
the memory of you.

And You... you were the same.
Abuser. Destroyer.
The One Who Leaves.
Sombro May 2017
Our wooden frame crawls on tendrils
Weeds soaked in seawater soaked in city muck
Grit shuffles into water, disturbed by our passing,
The canal boat slinks on wooden planks and pedestals,
Wicked bears a traditional name

Ice breakers and thought takers,
Our narrow hull rests on its corals
Shuffled into dock
By the bay leaves, short and smooth,
Which flinch and blanche
Feeling their way apart from us
As our engine leaks

No indeed, our boat is shaped like tree trunks,
Lashed together with fickle plastic rope
That bleeds earthly vitamins from the bowels of exploited grass seed
And stewed history, burnt alive within

What I feel is comfort,
But I know the fish below me
Are choking, feeding on
What arsenic they can reach to
Escape the slick of molten carelessness
As we imitate the seabirds that
Come in to roost
And hurt nothing.

I don't think
We managed more than damage,
But HELL


I had fun doing it,
As long as tomorrow comes,
Ours is fine

?
This poem turned into an environmental one - no matter how much we try to adapt our lifestyles to nature, we're always doing damage
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