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Noandy Mar 2015
My vessels
My veins
My vessels
My fiend

My pen I never strayed
My lungs I do disdained
My legs not rightly placed
My hands, beyond tangled

This is just some words about
The ethereal wandering spine:
Made of hard candled wood
To be laid cold on the lane

The ghost of it, I dare say, wandered around
Spoken of shame and of the nomads
And in silence, it sew the raging sea
Into yarns of distraught constellation
All in this ill world, not above

The spine was of rage and of distress
Wished forever to stop standing still
And forever more, laid to rest
As broken bones, as thousand glasses
To be unnoticed and blend as well

Fifteen years of shame
Haven’t eaten
Fifteen years of shame
Haven’t beaten
But bathe in dirt

To blend means to fade away
And to fade means to accept
Annihilation and memories that may
Dangle from the tip of your bones

Why would you
Or the spine
Take it for granted,
wish it to be true?

Truth be told;
a spine helps you to stand still
Aside from your legs and your partial heart

Imagine;
if it wander aimlessly
Where would you belong,
and where would you stand?

But still the spine wanders around
To reign upright on its own
Then decorate beauty of its own
Oh, and perhaps, again
Blend in as well as to fade away

Away
Away
Away
From you

From:

Fifteen years of shame
Haven’t eaten
Fifteen years of shame
Haven’t beaten
But bathe in dirt—
And could not stay

Look at your spine
Which you can’t see,
why are you so sure
That it is there?

Look at the spines
On your surrounding:
Lampposts
Broomsticks
Electric poles
Candles
Pillars

Look at the spines
That stand on their own
Just a single stick
And nothing more.

Believed to be incapable
Wished to be broken shards
Ended up standing still
For eternity, for darkness beyond

And what are you
Without them?
Just a lump of flesh
A fabricated skin
An empty will
And nothing more

Living in
Fifteen years of shame
Haven’t eaten,
haven’t beaten
But bathe in dirt.

And what are we,
without them?
Just dark vessels
And distraught veins.

My vessels
My veins
My vessels
My fiend.
PrttyBrd Dec 2014
Pain
and
humiliation
linger
in the
shadows
of the
heart

12214
10w
L A Lamb Sep 2014
Write about being seen, really being seen.
(Remember to go with your "first flash," and write for 10 minutes without stopping or thinking.)

I was so humiliated. Besides feeling humiliated, I felt like I was on display. Each step I took down the hallway, every person in every little group glared at me, glanced away, and the whispers were buzzing. I felt it unjust, but I knew I brought it on myself. I cannot say I felt betrayal, as I was the original betrayer, (well, he was, but our emotional volley had collapsed with the weight of my action) but I hated him for savoring the revenge of my ruined reputation. I knew the pain I bestowed on him wouldn’t go away, but his smug satisfaction of broadcasting my shame only added to my humiliation.

When is graduation? Exactly two months away. That was April first, and I would have my high school diploma June 1st. I was a survivor, for my whole life, and although it was awful, I knew I could get past it. Still, every step I took in the hallway following that dreaded day, every move I made, every word I spoke, every breath I exhaled– was noticed, and I was judged without given the opportunity to provide an explanation of my perspective. High school rumors were ruthless, but what was worse is when it wasn’t a rumor. It was a scandal.

Even though no one dared to ask about it, to obtain information from me, I knew they all knew. Everyone knew, and once the basic information was known, details were not important. I wondered how many other girls experienced what I was experiencing, having to hold their head high and act proud despite the shame. It was strengthening, inadvertently, but the only other option was to hide away and avoid everyone. Even with a reputation, I couldn’t do that. Peers whispered and laughed degrading words, female faculty cast judgmental stares and all male teachers avoided eye contact, to avoid any association with me.
Akemi Aug 2014
Perfect little ******* crowd
Laugh your lungs out
Swear humiliation
Sweat indifference

Salt your licks
Sever empathy
One death rattle
One night only

******* entertain me
Entertain me

Pillow talk massacre
Conscience guillotine
7:38pm, August 14th 2014

"It's just a joke."
I don't think the humiliation of another human being is a joke. Cruelty for the sake of amusement disgusts me.
Koe May 2014
I don't desire to share my opinions with anyone
Too long, have they been bashed upon by peers or anonymous figures
"You should respect their opinion."
What hypocrites, even opinions could be wrong and hurt others

"For the sake of arguing."
It doesn't matter if they humiliate someone.
It doesn't matter if they turn others against them.
It doesn't matter if they were wrong as well

Even if you understand their perspective, they refuse to see yours
I long to be mute
I hate my own speaking voice
If all my words are unheard


"I can't express myself, this secretive awkward human."

If only they knew of the true cynical and diabolical thoughts locked away
Would anyone bother to accept and understand
Or would I be shunned
Isolated like I had been since so long ago

I don't mind singing
The rhythm and flow much better to the accented jumble words
However I'm merely a ghost that no one notice when they have stars to illuminate the room

"Ahhhh.. The jealousy and bitterness will consume me."

"Please see me."
"Please acknowledge me."
"Please talk to me."
"Please hear me."

*I'm fading away.
Naomi Zabasajja Jul 2014
He nearly ripped my throat out just to prove his point.
The bleeding thumbs of an angry boy can be tasted on my tongue at 11 pm.
His desire lies in between his toes and his malice in between his teeth.
He screams to a God he'll never praise and kisses a father he'll never love.
The sound of the air blowing between my teeth, however, shut him the **** up.
Shhh.
I have a project for you.
It involves you losing your victimizing nature.
Dropping your entitlement.
Opening your baby browns.
And listening.
Your sweat will never taste sweet until you love yourself like you loved her.
Your legs will stumble on their insecurities until you dance in your impurities.
Your vengeance is futile and will only make you avoided.
I can scream too.
You want to scream?
Scream with me.
But don't say I didn't help you.
Don't say I didn't try.
Don't act like the blisters and welts on your tan skin are from my fire.
You want blood?
I got plenty.
I'll jump rope with your esophagus.
Play dress up in your epidermis.
Understand your motives and thoughts better than Lauryn Hill.
But you can't assume anymore.
You can't believe that I fall to my knees because you make me weak.
That's not the case.
I don't need you like you need me.
Oh, please.
E H Jun 2014
i struggle
thinking about the difference between reality and what i've made up in my head
sometimes i get confused about whether I'm real or...
- the obvious word choice is dead right?
but **** that because i'm not.

i'm so alive i can feel my heart beating all the time
i can hear my blood gushing through me
this isn't some 20 year old shyster declaring death
this is a tirade against every black cell in my glowing body.

i don't want to feel nothing
but i don't want to feel this:

a hopeless sense of nothing where you can't attach to anything
a feeling that you have so much to say but you can't get the words out
and you have no one to tell
a holding back of tears all day long until dark when suddenly
you feel ok again
but you have a sense of dread, because you know that it will be back tomorrow.
i wrote a ****** poem about the night for my english class and my teacher looked concerned
i told her it was a joke
because why the **** would i tell her anything else

every word i've ever written anywhere i want to erase
every single thing i've said i'm wincing at in embarrassment
if i could eat words i'd be fat, gorging on the humiliation that found its home in my vowels syllables nouns adjectives verbs and mutterings

i feel quite sick at the thought that it's only 13:51 and i have a whole life to lead.
Ellen Joyce Mar 2014
The sinking has returned too fast.
I knew sanity wouldn't last -
but madness is here much too soon.

Electric amnesia returns to me.
Cacophonous thoughts breaking free
tear my feet from trembling ground.

My contradictory conscience
******* utter nonsense
across the face of my clean slate.

Peel back my shimmering rib cage,
see insomnia's grip of rage
still my dark heart into hurting.

Plunge me into freezing waters
where caught apathetic breath blurs
treading to sinking to drowning.

And I'm caught in the crawl spaces
between the in between places -
wretch to my opprobrious mind.

Not if but when sayeth the doc
to the tune of the ticking clock
willing me to wave the white flag

Madness is a graceless game.

— The End —