I'll go first,

Growing up, there was a huge emphasis on marriage in my community.
Everything I watched was about love,  lust and relationships, this was all I consumed.

Later on in life,  I began to crave affection and attention from many if not always the males in my life.

This lead me into a spiral of thinking that every male I had an interaction with was going to be my husband.

We listen and we don't judge...

I felt it
When I spoke
To the judge,
For my son,
Years of shell work
Encasing fear and sanity, cracked with each glance, falling away. Everyone listening.
I was left lost
Like a snail losing it's shell
Mushy and vulnerable
A Pulpy mess.

Was it enough
That I said
Or too much.
So much was left out
The Russian Roulette admission
The thoughts of jumping 15 floors from his hotel
So many letters making up words and paragraphs upon paragraphs
of 15 years.
Throwing out a gun
Into the city trash.

How could I be anything more than a mother
Who let the saving flatten her out of existence. Incoherence and pulp.
Will it be discarded
All that effort
To keep him alive
At my expense.
Is that what mothers do?
I'll never get to return. Life doesn't
Let you.

Everyone says no to us
Yet our hearts entwine
Everything is against us
Yet when our eyes meet it's just us
Even as a tear drops
I know you are still ready to crucify me
They say ice and ice
Is bound to freeze
Yet the fire in our hearts
Burns brighter than ever
Won't the warmth keep us breathing
How to tame our hearts from going wild
The only way is to crash the spirit
In your so called ways
To purify the soul
Yet it will **** us
With an excuse of keeping us alive
After diminishing us
Extinguishing any hope
We have for the future
You think we are wrong
The problem is
You think
We believe that in this world
Right or wrong  is a question for our hearts
Let the hearts decide
Our minds fool us
Our eyes blind us
Our people abandon us
The world betrays us
Yet you still crucify us

©The Snitch Writes
®I never betrayed but a snitch they said I was

Start with self.
The others can wait.

Thoughts are just passing clouds for which to meditate.
Observe the world as the observer, not the taker or receiver.

Judges are for benches. Do not sit alone.
   Stand and walk into the songs of birds.
   Free within your self called home.

mediocrity
be the judge of me
and see if I give a ****
I know how hard I work
I know who I am
can spit in my face
and still call myself a man

It's funny how people say for others
"Don't judge a book by its cover".
Honey, I've read the whole series -
I still want my refund,
Believe me, that story never got interesting nor pretty.
It was comfort when you're feeling down,
It was home when no one else was around,
It was fun, when you needed a good time to laugh.

Why I want a refund you'd ask?
The magic forest isn't just pretty fairies and unicorns, right?
So was this book.
Cover ain't pretty, but we don't judge it - we give it a try.
Yet, under all the magic,
there's something scary, that could make you lose your pride.
Ugly witches, goblins, trolls,
but isn't the forest also their home?
Story can't always be bright,
But when the dark consumes all the light,
the book is no longer your anchor.
The pages contain ungly spells that make you feel like you're reading something else.
One of the trolls probably tried to trick me - he succeeded.
Can't believe once I've said this book was everything I needed.

Could be the troll,
could be the narrator,
could be just me,
but the comforting fairy tale,
is no longer what it used to be.

And I believe you feel the same way as me,
as this was our first and last journey,
cause the story got way too ugly so we both decided that it's just not worth it.

So, you see, I didn't judge it before,
nor will I do it now.
Yet, I'd like to bring it all back,
wishing I've never read that series nor reach its finale.

It's their way of living
that you have no right to judge
"It's spring and summertime.
Blossoming flowers along my jogging route.
Cherry blossom trees too."

"That's nice. We have a cherry blossom tree
at school as well."

"The flowers weren't blossoming last time I went jogging.
The cherry blossoms are only pretty for a couple of days.
The trees down there look so dead all the time.
They weren't dead last year when we moved here."
I wondered if I ought to take off my earpiece.

"Yes. I agree."

"Your father ought to stop buying junk."
"Yes, he ought to."
"Has your mother always been skinny?"
I nod and stir the same old *** of instant noodles.
I like my parents just the way they are.

Curiouser and curiouser.

"It's their way of living
that you have no right to judge."