I tasted a lingering shot of ****** ***** on my tongue before my mouth tasted the rest of the night. I pretended that I was much drunker than I was because I thought that would make it easier, less painful. I gave myself a pep talk and should've understood that nothing wanted needs convincing. I've suppressed the act so much in my subconscious that I only remember it in flashes, like a slow motion replay of a life-ending car accident you'd see in a movie. In some ways, that scened ended me; the world was fuzzier than it had been the night before, when I woke up no longer wearing my agency. The normalcy with which I picked myself up from the dingy navy couch was underwhelming and haunting all at once. I left with my dress and my shame clinging to me, fearing not for myself or how I had said no so many times before, but instead that giving it all still wasn't enough for you; losing myself, unraveling my soul wasn't worth what I thought it would sell for. All I saw was the satisfaction that I had given that didn't satisfy you.
An emptied shell; you took it all, and I've been hollow ever since.
Flurries fall onto the window As white fills the street With a clean white sheet of snow The phone rings Schools have been cancelled Call up my friends “Let’s go down the BIG sled hill” We meet up around 3PM Where no little kids around to ruin our day We pack snow to make a ramp And drag our sleds up to the top As we race down the sled hill one by one Faster than light Speed, I am speed Feeling the freeze and staring at the jump ahead Until we feel an elevation Then we are sent flying high Soaring faster than planes in the sky Until we land Hard landing but we land Every laugh, every giggle fuels are adrenaline As we take on the ramp And build it up and build it up Until we get the biggest jump And once we get tired of that We race down the hill Trying to knock each other off to win So we can go the finals And be crowned a sled champion In our fake world And we rinse and repeat the same formula Our creative minds wonder Until it turns dark Where our mothers come to pick us up at 8 Where we get hot chocolate at McDonalds And head back to someone's house Where pizza and drinks await Where we go downstairs and play video games And talk about girls all night And sleepover and stay up til late Still playing games Having deep talks Life, sports, girls, parents, etc. Truth or Dare, What are the odds Until we start to feel tired And pass out and start dreaming On the next snowfall Under the white blanket
Need a snow day right now tbh. Flashback free verse! Follow for more
The darkness beckons like an aborted child full of possibilities never explored. Potential never reached. Heights never teached. Things never speeched. But life goes on thrashing like a rude animal, desperately devouring all in its path with no end in sight, and no table manners. Trembling slowly, my hand reaches into the abyss for a drop of light to comfort my flickering life force. The only channel of hope that now rushes with the ferocity of a dying turtle, with no home to speak of.
TICK TOCK, click clack, the only sounds that remind me that reality never shuts off. Where’s the remote?
It was never invented.
My shadows play dead to my consciousness, never there to teach me my concrete lessons.
So I scratch my bed stings, reminders of my past, itches of my present, and marks in my future.
The fade to black is my only resolution.
The gavel sounds and I pinch myself, hoping it’s a dream, no it’s just a scheme, ultralight beam?
Frigid fingers running down my spine Wrapping around and squeezing my lungs Coating me in thick layers of ice. I'm forcing my feet flat on the ground, Gripping onto the present so tightly My knuckles turn an **** shade of bone white. Eyes darting, landing on things In the now, hoping to not get lost In hidden movies that attack me from the shadows Mental VHS tapes that replay in high definition Making me doubt my sanity. Terror running so deep that I reach for blades To carve not just into my skin But my very own identity. Chopping off chunks to store the flash flood Without drowning in the swamp. This saving grace rapidly turning Into the one and only thing, I may not survive. Shards, past broken off come back So brittle and sharp they threaten to pierce My heart at the slightest wrong move. I have lived through one war only to enter another That seems to have higher stakes. Panic freezes my veins and leaves Beads of cold sweat on my flesh. I am paralyzed and frigid. Gasping for each and every breath.
we play activity and we have to mime ****** things as ******* and it is all fun and games
it´s your turn I am supposed to guess You act like you pushing someone down like you are hitting someone
I give up **** How could you not guess that you laugh while asking me
You give your friend a fist bumb as he tells you nicely mimed
How, I wonder How can you nicely mime **** How can **** be nice
you guys laugh
you look at me laughing and say so you like being ***** I mean it is a kink right
I don´t say anything.
you wouldn´t know You laugh but nobody ever took you arm and didn´t let go nobody ever grabbed your *** nobody ever catcalled you on the street nobody ever followed you pushed you down you never felt the weight of another body not belonging on yours never felt someone crushing your wrist never felt ashamed for your body never felt ashamed for your gender
you were never told what not to wear to not get ***** you were only told that people who do want to get ***** you never experienced ****
But for me for us survivors it is not a joke not a kink not a fetish or fun and games
for us it is a trauma a nightmare flashbacks late night shivers
for us it was ****. for us the things you joke about are real.
The fester of the past caresses my skin as a mother would.
Grey ash mint apples - a feast for a crawl to the flees is a burden unyielding. The endless unmotivated hours ending in blinks serve as the hard concrete floors for the cellar of my bedroom. Each glass mosaic piece of my 19th-century chamber door embeds a muculent eyeball of my longing ka. Red droplet soup in a marble bowl, the utensil now tied in hair clumps.
Every Ra's breath- a six-eyed sand crawler on my leg thumps
Friends, oh friends Where did you draw that line? We're shuffled around, bagged up and shelved And somehow that's just fine You claimed you'd help me when I needed it And now I'm suffering is this what you meant? You pushed me away, scared to take action While this burden rolled down, gaining traction
I spiraled down, cracking to the core Empty bottles of pills all sprawled out on the floor You grew more distant while I tried to reach out Plaguing my mind with these crushing waves of doubt I expected more and I was let tragically down As my problems spread and gained all of this renown
I was broken, I was battered and sore When did helping, become such a chore But I forgave you, for all of your faults It just hurt me, to watch this friendship halt You preach about helping by noticing the signs But when I was apparent you just ignored mine Now years have passed and we've grown up We don't talk but that's good enough Please dont feel sorry, for the things that you did I hold no grudge, for we were just kids
I wrote this more as a song but figured I'd share it anyway. It's about some times I went through during/right after high school.