Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Kitten Yvad Nov 9
Sweet mother Menrva,
Diana the moon
has made me soft
for girls

and the glitter it
lingers on their auburn curls
and the love, mother, oh
I go to bed safely in her oaken
brown eyes

And the Moon, oh
Mother , the moon is not Diana
Or further Diana is not
a girl.
Mother the moon is
hazel and firey,
wide and dark and deep
but reflective like a pool
of honey

They might love me if
I asked. Oh mother
it comes to be too much
Oh mother my heart
is at war for desire of touch

And i must
bring serenity into
my home.
The fire the moon makes
Energy is pure art
Markus Anton Nov 2
i couldn't stand my parents they didn't like each other couldn't stand other people didn't like me called me a **** up and a loser father and mother slept in separate rooms and when they went for a stroll she always walked ahead of him the day mother died i heard father crying in the bathroom i didn't give it much thought she's gone problem solved father died three months later of loneliness that's what people said doctor's said he drank too much you can bet your *** that i'm not a religious person but the day i realized that they're gone for good i caught myself thinking please bring 'em back i got nowhere else to go and maybe we can work things out
Skaidrum Oct 26
i.
when my father's pride lands
on my shoulder, digging it's claws
into my collarbone; demanding
blood in return for his
acknowledgement
of my
existence;
I learn to receive his broken
version of what love is
without protest.

ii.
when my mother's judgment
runs it's fingertips down the
curvature of my spine, searching
for weaknesses in my
posture, pose,
and figure;
my weight, skin
and fissures;
I learn to endure her
backhanded version of love  
without complaint.


iii.
when my younger brother's anger
comes over for dinner, makes itself
a guest in my first apartment;
and cusses out my duty
as an older sister to
even give a **** about him
in the first place?
Tells me I've failed
at loving him properly?
I learn to cry without
really crying
at all.

iv.
you think you've taught yourself how to be ice;
only to realized you're just shattered water.
Amen

© Copywrite Skaidrum
The last few nights
You've been in my dreams
You were my protector
Or so it seemed
In real life and all reality
Me you did demean
Your love is a tragity
The truth has hit like gravity
You are the man of many dreams
Unfortunately you and me can not be
It is written in the stars
This is not our destiny
Moth Sep 2
shaking off unconsciousness
stretching those aching joints
and lifting your eyelids to light
as sunlight begins to stream in

you pull the soft covers down
your sluggish mind begins to wake
as you slip from the bed to the floor
reaching over a kiss to my head

you whisper good morning
then I role over again to sleep
as you leave me in the dawn
to begin the daily drawl
shelby Aug 31
I was by myself. My heart was longing for a pulse other than my own but I was wasn’t ready. I was afraid of the commitment... afraid that it would go wrong again that I would go wrong again. But my heart was yours as soon as I saw you. I adopted you and you adopted me. I used to have a dog, but he never really liked me. He only laid around- but never next to me. He ran away. I thought you were different though. So I put my trust in you. I took you home. I showed you where you would sleep and eat and how to curl into the bend of my legs when the rain would hit the window on a Saturday morning. I showed you to my friends but they said you were too protective of me. Like you owned me instead of the other way around. I brushed it off and told myself they were just jealous because they didn’t have a dog. They had always wanted a dog, after all.

We were perfect for each other. We played and you watched me laugh when you would do something funny. But then you would just watch as the tears streamed down my cheeks when you would upset me. I was mad at first, but you were just a dog. You didn’t mean it. So you’d sit there. Occasionally sniffing or scratching yourself like you always would and I expected nothing and forgave you like it was my fault.

It got worse as the months went on. I tried to leave but you’d sit in front of the door looking at me. Your eyes quickly turned away from the puppy dog eyes I first fell into. You would bark so loud that it would echo off the couch and doors and then the stupid expression on my face every time I tried to walk away because I thought I could actually get away with it this time. But you hadn’t changed.

I hoped it was all bark but I knew when I pushed you too far the bite would come. Your distorted expression that was pierced by the stinging spit that spewed from between your lips shook me to the ground. I was then on your level, perfectly vulnerable for your teeth to sink into my arms and legs and face and torso and every part of my body that I though was mine... but it wasn’t. It was yours. I let you own me. I held on so tight to the leash that I thought I had on you I didn’t notice the one around my own throat that burned deeper into my veins that strained each time I strayed too far. I turned from my friends and my self and the life I thought I wanted so I could cater to your needs and so you’d stay with me and not run away like the others.

I would see friends and family and they’d always ask about the bruises and cuts and I’d just say “dog bite”. But they only responded with “well, you must have done something to make him bite?”
TW: Abuse
Caitlin Aug 19
Part I:

You broke me once,
and then twice,
and then three times,
But then I lost count.

I can remember sweet kisses you gave to me,
On swollen lips.
Tears that rolled down my purple cheek.
And the prayers I sent to God,
That went unanswered.

I remember the words "no" and "stop".
Feelings of no control.
I can still feel your warm breath,
Hovering over my exposed, naked body.

I can still remember that moment.
When I could feel everything.
Everywhere.
And it hurt.

Unbearable, excruciating pain.
It built walls to keep you out.
But you're still here.
In my head.
In my home.
In my bed.

Sometimes, I see your shadow,
Watching me get undressed.
Intruding my dreams as I sleep,
Torturing me endlessly.

Sometimes, I wake to your voice,
Telling me to love you,
And that you love me,
And you would never hurt me,
We are the perfect soulmates.
But, I still feel my spine cold on the floor,
Colored in black and blue,
And it loves you too.

I feel your sweaty body,
Draining all the life inside of me.
I used to dance and sing.
I used to laugh uncontrollably,
I used to be free.

My body is shattered,
Broken and battered.
Useless and unlovable.
Disgusting trash.

Part II:

Where is my body?
Where is my mind?

What am I missing?
What am I feeling?

Am I alive?

Why did you hurt me?
Gaslight and manipulate me?

I was a child.
You made me bleed.
I was inebriated.
You took advantage of me.
Buried me and everything I wanted to be.

Stop standing there.
Stop following me.
How ******* dare you?
Just leave me be.

I don't deserve this.
You shouldn't be here.
I need to leave.
Please don't follow me.

Part III:

I was bound to you by my silence
Even miles apart,
You silenced me once again,
When I needed to sing my truth.

So much excruciating pain.
I had to crawl out of that grave.
You screamed profanities in my brain.
And I still paved my way.

I sang my truth.
You ***** me.
You abused me.
And so did he.
And now I'm setting myself free.
Cattatonicat Jul 2
You wanted me to be tiny like you

The compliments you gave out in the beginning
Dried up and soon nothing I did was enough for you

I went out of my way to help you the first time
After that, you took my help for granted, made me do it over and over again
You acted helpless to guilt me, and the truth is you didn’t want to help yourself
When I tried to stop, you left a hurtful letter, out in the open, very well visible, on the kitchen table
Yes, I know you lied about the fact that you wrote the letter for your eyes only
Yes, I know you wrote the letter to hurt me and manipulate me
That’s when I should have left you, but I was too nice, I was too naive

I did most of the cooking, and you did most of complaining about the food
You started to control the way I dress, you wanted me to dress the way that was acceptable to you
You also didn’t want me to be with my friends

You belittled the work I did to chase my dream
If I work for my dream, I would grow, and you didn’t want that
You needed me to be tiny, so you could control me

I couldn’t let you manipulate me into being tiny like you
I have a dream I can’t possibly achieve if I’m tiny like you
I can’t let that happen
That’s why you are not in my life
In my household,

The validity of my feelings have been neglected.
My desperate cries for help have fallen on deaf ears.
The words I speak immediately became shunned and cast aside - does anyone truly care for me?

In my household,

I am oppressed by my own flesh and blood.
I am classified as unwanted and valueless.
I am invisible - does anyone truly care for me?

But once i leave the place allegedly called home,

I realise I have friends with shoulders to cry on.
Those willing to carry the heavy weight of my burdens, needless of compensation.
Those who have nothing to give but their love.

A love, that transcends space and time.
Next page