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i was guilty of nothing
when i learnt everything
now i am guilty of anything
you teach me
a victim
if you tell me they hurt me
a liar
if you tell me i deceived
i was guilty of nothing
until you gave me something
to hate myself with
guilty until proven innocent
when innocence is suspended disbelief
now i am guilty of anything
Andrew Rueter Aug 2021
In the American justice system
there’s no such thing as an “open and shut case”
unless the defendant has no money.
Sonorant Jul 2021
Little lamb, lone in the brush
Without a mother’s feed.
Who is to groom the gloss
Of her delicate clothing?

Little lamb, who sings to me,
Unlettered melodies,
Why does she wag forth
These eyes of rust—
In pensive gloat ache
Sipped sinews of her throat?

Little Lamb, bleating to bleed,
Ventures frail, tender limbs
Deep within Tophet’s Vale.
Meek, she slips in buried sheets.

Little Lamb, orchid chewed to root
Bask and bathe the moon
Twixt her thighs.
Splayed upon pastures
Nourished with tears.

Wine spilled into the milk of being.
She drinks the rich grain.
Strying Jul 2021
I often look up at the television
seeing heroes like the black widow,
and warriors like blodreina,
and I want to have this power,
but a society with people like this cannot function.

These people inflict so much pain on civilians,
that they would never be allowed to exist,
in reality.

Hidden under the depths,
they may be discovered,
but killers and the innocent cannot coexist,
despite needing each other to survive.
I really look up to Natasha from the new Black Widow movie. So proud of the actress for getting her own movie finally, but the character itself is amazingly strong and loving. Part of me wishes I grew up to be someone that strong, despite knowing how terrible her childhood was and how much pain she was forced to inflict.
Sonorant May 2021
I woke up one night
And I cried:
"Papa, I don't want to die!"

It is so sad when I look
To that child of the past-
Long forgotten and still
He weeps.

I am but a feigned rendition
of the boy inhabiting this soul.

We are so different
As oil upon water.
Yet how can I say
I was never him?

As now nothing
Seems more sweet.

That delicate snowflake
Fell into streams
Long spent, and yet
I sent for him.

Little did he know
His ending was not in death.
But he cannot be found.
Silent is the child's cry.
Khoi May 2021
I see birds fly
from this concrete predicament
faces in ****** hands
I hurt and I cry
my hands are wet
on Pilates plateau
a place where bugs die.
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