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vanessa marie Sep 18
my stomach was in knots
as i told you the news
but i didn’t expect was the yelling
the hitting and following bruise
it is yours; I swear
and I am yours too
but you don’t want to see him
don’t care when I am due
i will raise him alone
apple falling far from the tree
show him how to love and be good
show him what a man should be
so that when he grows old
and has a baby on the way
he can be a proper father
he will not run away
Hollis Aug 20
TW : eating disorder, suicide attempt, abuse

In my phone
There’s a contact name that’s just swear words
The occasional bad bad word that I can say in therapy but don’t in public
And it’s my mom’s contact name
I changed it after our 1millionth fight
Right before I left for uni
Because she called me fat
And at the time I was five months sober of my eating disorder
Maybe sober isn’t the right word but whatever
And my brain snaps
I scream and cry
She screams back at me
I call her “fat” back because I’m mad
And I spend the night sobbing
I even call my abusive dad who chose to leave therapy because he thinks he’s getting better
He hasn’t left his girlfriend who restricted food from me yet so, are you sure Dad?
And he tries the whole facetime while I audibly cry to not sound mean about her
And I thank him for trying in my head
Because my mom only refers to him as slurs or Satan
I eat the entire cake she got me in the fridge the next day
Before even noon
I feel bad immediately after but at least she can’t have any
And then I’m suddenly jealous that she didn’t have any
So no weight gain
I drink two cups of iced coffee with that extra calorie Starbucks syrup
And then my sister gets me Popeyes
She gets me this after yelling at our mother
Because we don’t really talk that much openly
But we both have our own scars from her words
Mine developed into eating disorders, cuts on my legs, and just general mental illness
Hers just developed into being a rock solid wall
When my mom comes home and sees me eating
She takes a bite
Lu Wilson Aug 15
Is life really too short or maybe too long?
A journey just plucking out the strong

So much joy and tenderness with aching
With every breath, memories we are making

A child, then a wife, and finally a parent
The hardest job with long hours and nay a red cent

Spending days in front of the screen to pay the bills
Blurred vision, headaches looming with unmade meals

Guilt for the friend and wife and mother I am not
Worthy just the same for the wins that I've got

The dichotomy of life is sorrow and bliss
Short or long, it doesn't matter as neither I'll miss
bianca Jul 24
a young girl's heart
pouty strawberry lip smacker
a perfect purple bra
an old man’s invitation
bruises on her legs
a lover’s burn on her wrist
daddy is a dipsomaniac,
mommy my deranged

singing into the big camera frame,
satiating his desires,
polka dot underwear in tatters
sending white lily bouquets
calling out for submissive, sweet girl,
innocent *******, weak in the knees
rewarding her with a kiss or three,
his forbidden fruit to keep

***** in her veins,
wide eyes rolling back into the sky
daddy’s savior nowhere to be seen,
her bible in the hand of the man
moaning her name across the screen

how devotional she must be
jasmine green tea
the flowers smell so sweet
she put soap in my mouth
she wants to wash it out
i let the aroma lie to me
i hate my mother i wish i didn't love her
kian Jul 8
When I was born the theme for the shower was Noah’s Ark, which if you don’t know is the story of hundreds and thousands of People being drowned by their father because He made them in a way that He knew He had no choice but to hate.
And because He had the power.
I always think this is a strange inheritance
To give a Child:
Countless mothers, thrashed against rocks and stones and trees that grow seed-bearing fruit, Grandparents scraped against the sides of cities, Sisters sputtering when lungs burn up with water.  Chaos everywhere. Pallid bodies floating over dark depths. Waves bigger than mountains, surging over clouds. Growing with the torrent. And worst by far, Wailing that is louder than the onslaught
of rain in sheets the size of seas.
When I go home I wince at blankets and baubles
Plastered with smiling elephants, giraffes and dolphins, blushing two-by-two.
That is just like my mother
to look at the tempest that killed everyone alive
and see the animals
simone Jun 27
wish i could go back
to falling apart
ive never learned how
to replace it all
its all static
chasing the fall
like a dog
somehow i get stuck in the tone of its call

guilty for nothing
chewing off cords,
can you hold my hand
like you did before
am i too big
to lay in your lap
i know i wanted to leave
but can i please come back

i am always your eyes
between your ankles on the floor
i’m what you can’t see in yourself anymore
Rococo Jun 2
They took me to a hill, bound me to a rock and spilled my innards on the floor.

The woman cried a bitter stream of tears.

The man clutched the knife into his fist.

There was no stop to be had, no pause, there were no angels to come.

The outcome written on the stone below, marked by the scars of countless blades before.

A stream-like crack gleamed with red, its banks welcoming the flow like an old friend.

Someplace else a child is born. Future offering to desperate gods.
I was conceived on acid and whippets, the drugs a kaleidoscope of umbilical dreams.
I was conceived on bad luck and lust, from darkness and sexually exploitive childhood trauma.
I was conceived on teenage dreams and difficult childhoods, to black sheep children of 17.

I was raised on addiction and narcissism, a love bomb here and authoritarian abuse there.
I was raised on the chess long game, to lose a piece here means to win at the end.
I was raised on 2000s tv, Lorelei Gilmore my wish for a mother, Rory my idol.

I taught myself strength in building up a fantasy on the outside while my castle crumbled within.
I picked myself up by the tendrils of a lost childhood, by the whispers of good memories, by the hiding places I found in pages upon pages of someone else’s imagination.

And I let it all go at 28. To find peace. To start over. To build myself a new castle with no more haunted corners or echoes of pill bottles or smells of ***** and orange juice permeating the breaths of those who walk these sacred halls.
Rib cage cut open, heart destroyed and renewed, ancient umbilical nooses cut with teeth.

I will no longer fall victim to my mother’s circumstances or my father’s mistakes, I will never have the soul I’ve created look at me and ask himself if he is loved or safe.

I am cycle breaker,
I am generational karma’s worst ******* fear,
I am no longer frightened maiden,
I am fearsome mother.
I am new.
Celestial May 11
My mom is mischievously, mysterious,
    with her momentum.
But perfectly perpetuating her
    purpose on earth.
Never wavering wondering, or
    wishing for it all.
Only knowing.

She is in her palace.
Filling her chalice.
Toughening the callus,
That's needed..

Necessary negativity to neutralize,
        The highs and balance the lows.
Candidly correcting the corrupt
         With a simple smile.
Lifting the leveled and the loveless,
          With ease.

There is no tail,
That could make a wail.
Only mine of I fail,
But, I won't walk that trail.

I'll take the teachings and trials,
      She will give.
Learning love and limits
      With a laugh.
I just want to say,
       Thank you
For my life and the love you've given.
       You're perfect, just for me.
Poem for my moms bday and mothers day
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