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Chiara 23h
Mom
My mom always tells me that it’s my fault we fight,
Why I’m not just happy and enjoy everyday life?
She says: There’s no reason for you to be sad,
You just **** the mood when you enter the room.

She doesn’t realize that I have every right to be down,
That I’m allowed to be me, even if she doesn't agree.
I don’t have to act different just to please her,
Why do I have to put on a fake smile, I thought lying was bad?

She doesn't know what I’m feeling, so why does she think she can judge me?
I am sad, she can’t change that,
So why won't she stop making me feel bad,
I can’t handle the stress with her at home now too.
I really love my family, but sometimes they just have no idea what their words do to me. I already have enough problems without them making me feel bad for feeling bad!
Your hands and knees
hit the floor

with your head to the ground
you let out a blood curling scream

leaving goosebumps on my body
and my eyes wide open

“Deja de llorar”
Slips from my mouth and into your ears

“La luz de mi vida ya no brilla,
mi piel arrugada y fea,
mi cuerpo ya está cansado,
como puedes decir
“Deja de llorar”

My head jerks back
and my arms fall by my side

“Deja de llorar”
Slips from my mouth once more

But this time i’m saying it to myself
The realization that your mother is growing old is terrifying and that you can't do anything to stop it, is what inspired me to write this. (Even though my mother passed away a while ago, i've seen my aunt grow old and I feel like it can be applied.)
Just Ty 5d
Is it just me or maybe it’s that I am just a different breed
For there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do when it comes to my seed
I would walk the distance just to be able to put food on the table
I go by many different names but bad father isn’t one of those labels
I don’t understand how parents are ok with just getting by
Because I would do anything for my kids to touch the sky
Maybe I’m wrong and maybe they are doing all that they can
But perception is reality so you have to understand,
Where I am coming from for Im not trying to be the bad guy
I am just asking the questions that we all want to know; why?
Why is it that you have enough money for your drugs
While your children’s stomach is the only thing they’ll hug
These children are walking around with holes in their shoes
All while every Friday night your cabinets are stocked with *****
Isn’t it annoying to see all these dead beat
dads
But dead beat mothers isn’t a conversation to be had
Doing more than what we are doing for our children is my only wish
Because they are the victims here for they didn’t ask for any of this
Amanda Sep 24
Welcomed by Mother's well-meaning embrace
Touch tender as a trap could be
How could my poor mother know?
The path laid for her precious baby?

Naivety must have rendered her blind
To awful truths of this life
Pain is inevitable for everyone
No one escapes sorrow and strife

A happy bubble flourished years I was small
Raised a sweet girl who made her proud
Four members of a perfect family
Tucked in each night warm, safe, and sound.

Had riches beyond measure when I was young
I treated it like dirt
Ungrateful for blessings owned
I'd never experienced hurt

Time unwillungly thrusted me forwards
Stole innocent hours one by one
After that problems rushed swiftly in
Unappreciated happiness forever done

Heartbroken heaviness settled in my bones
Weight growing larger still as days go by
If mom had paused to really think her decision through
Would she have chosen to birth a daughter who would rather die?
Day three of the 30 day poetry challenge im trying to keep up with

Pick up the newrest book and flip to page 8. Use the first full ten words in a poem in any order and anywhere you like.

My words were: small sweet innocent tender young still unwillingly taken mother's baby
Arden Sep 23
There is a boy in my closet
The boy is friendly but stays hidden
When I look in the mirror there he is
I became jealous of who he is
He says he wants to come out  
I decided to ignore it
But the curiosity grew bit by bit
Until I could barely stand it
"CUT YOUR HAIR"
But when I went downstairs my unapproving mother stood there
The boy wasn’t at ease with what our plan began to be
Because in reality, the boy was really me
But all people can see is she
That part wasn’t cut out for me
I don’t understand the big deal if I'm a he
Ainnoot Sep 15
I wanted to kiss you goodbye,
but you’re such a light sleeper.
You were dancing with the angels, I could tell.
You were smiling with no worries,
I know life can be hell.
Couldn’t disturb your peace,
when you make my pain ease.
I wanted to hug you goodbye, your arms feel safe.
You are my haven, but I’ll tell you at my pace.
I will repay my debt.
You gave me all the right things,
when I had nothing left.
Anyone can be a mother, but you earned that title. I was leaving and wanted to dismiss myself, but you had a long night.

You became a mom to me and I thank you for it.

https://www.instagram.com/the7thsunday
Once when I was younger I was helping my mom set up the Christmas decorations and she dropped a clear tack onto the grey furry carpet and before I could say anything she bent down and began to look for it by running her hands along the carpet.
“Why are you doing that? Won’t it hurt if it sticks you?” Eight year old me asked with concern.
“Maybe but it’s better than you or your siblings finding it by stepping on it.”
This was the moment I began to understand that my mom would hurt herself before she ever hurt her children.
The moment I began to understand the love of a mother.
- J.S.S
acacia Sep 10
I haven't seen you in a while; did you know today I wanted to be pink? Today I wanted to dress up in purple darkness (like the juice we drink in the dawn and dusk to commemorate the fertile groves between your mother's—that is I—legs) that'd stain every shoe you'd wear. You could sip orange juice while I dance all over the mirror,

the mirror, the mirror sees you in the way I'd want to: like the water—from every angle—like an angel you've been, even when my own plasma splashed your anatomy—from every view of that frimple in your eye, of the crinkle in your cheek, of the small mark above your nose.

My baby boy, conditionally, we are suppressing these memories: the memory of you no longer loving me. What is a mother going to do? Her baby bird has broken his farthest-right-wing; the dapper dauphin desires to fly even when he can tweet no longer. Can he even bring the petals to the celebration?

So because of this I cry and pray and grovel in the coarse sand while dusting my feathers; the same bath you used to sit in with I, smiling when I’d brush the hard Earth from your tiny head. Take your leaves and bring them to the nest:

feed me with words, I’ll feed you endorphins: my little bird, just let me die, take my note to Suicide—your phermones are all I need, I inhale them furiously. And we cry and we sigh to the God (inside us) above us, and we beg It to bless us with soft vapor that swallows us like the Swallow does; cuneiform scribes as the whispers form to you: bring me luck for my own return—I want my arc; I need rays to hit me with the brightest contingent beam. Poisoning you and not me, so I wouldn’t have to go on without you by choice.
I will grade the essay about the light inside of you, you present on the light inside of Me, me inside of You;

this started as an automatic writing session but then I started to expand on https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3283694/my-soul-is-maternal-like-a-native-country/ "My soul is maternal like a native country"

So this is automatic turned sequel. . . this doesn't have any direct muse, just an image of my head of a mom and a son and her husband
LaCayla Sep 7
Mommy
Can you please answer me?
I haven't heard from you in a long time
N I'm rlly getting worried
Ik that ur fine, but I want to talk to my mom
I wish that u would get ahold of me in someway
We were getting close
N now I feel like we're becoming distant now
N it rlly gets me upset
Bc I am rlly stressed rn
N rlly wish I could have my mom to talk to about these kinda things
Wen u get this, can u pls contact me somehow?
Mauren Sep 7
I CAN'T TELL IF I'M MANIC OR DEPRESSED BECAUSE I WANT TO **** MYSELF TONIGHT

OR CURL UP ON THE FLOOR AND NEVER GET BACK UP AGAIN

OR DRIVE 108 MPH EXACTLY WHILE BLARING ALL THE SONGS YOU HATED HEARING FROM MY STEREO UPSTAIRS AND SCREAM AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS UNTIL MY THROAT IS SO RAW AND MY VOICE SO HOARSE YOU WON'T EVEN RECOGNIZE IT WHEN I'M BEGGING YOU TO COME BACK

****
BECAUSE NOTHING HURTS LIKE THIS DOES

THE SPLIT OPEN RIB CAGE IS ALMOST A COMFORT BECAUSE AT LEAST THEN I MIGHT BE ABLE TO STUFF THIS GAPING WHOLE IN MY CHEST

SIX SHOTS OF NARCAN AND SHAKING WITHDRAWS TASTES ALMOST AS SWEET AS THE SHOT THAT KILLED ME
or the shot that left me lying unconscious for three days while the cancer killed you..

OR WAS IT THE PILLS THAT FINALLY TOOK YOU FROM ME?
I GUESS I REALLY COULDN'T SAY SINCE I WAS NEVER THERE

i use to see you in my dreams, Ma
i use to remember the way your hair smelled

ISN'T IT ******* PATHETIC I WON'T EVEN GO TO THE SAME STORES NOW
TOO AFRAID OF RUNNING INTO YOUR GHOST
even though i swear i'm struggling trying to find a place where i can feel you

i use to remember the way your voice sounded
AND I HATE MYSELF FOR DELETING ALL THE VOICEMAILS YOU EVER LEFT ME
AND THE TEXTS THAT SAID YOU ONLY WANTED ME TO MAKE IT HOME

YOU NEVER ASKED ME FOR ANYTHING BUT TO KEEP YOUR BABY SAFE
AND AREN'T I SO SICK FOR BEING TOO SELFISH TO EVEN DO THAT

instead i sat next to your hospital bed
TOO HIGH TO STAND BY YOU ANYMORE

i can't tell which half of bipolar this is
because i want to **** myself tonight
and you're not even here

to stop me
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