I'm tired of you
Spittin back the words that I've spoken
Cuz you walk around
Priding yourself
On the fact that you're broken

You claim:
“I was fucked by society”
So you go and start rioting
Like the world is your enemy
But that shit is all hypocrisy
So honestly
Don't try to be
Someone who causes me anxiety

                    But still.  

You flaunt around
And try to tell me what I'm worth
While simultaneously
You argue that you were fucked up at birth
Like your stupid mistakes
Are supposed to cause me heartbreak
But I've run out of sympathy
For your idiocy
Cuz all it really does now
Is drive me fucking crazy
Your honorable moments
Beginning to seem hazy

                        You need help.

It's hard to remember a moment
When you weren't
Whining
Crying
Or saying that you wished you were dying
While I'm sitting here
Trying
To see if you're really suicidal
Or if you're constantly lying

                   You need to stop.

Slow down
Cuz motherfucka
I won't be around
To catch you when you fall again
Though, there was a time
When I was your friend
But my times have changed
When you started acting deranged
Expecting me not to turn on you
After all the shit you put me through

                     I can't do it any longer.

So ask me
“Do you love me anymore?”
And I'd pause for a sec.
Like I wasn't sure
But the truth is
Since the day you put us toe to toe
My honest answer
Would have to be
No.

What it feels like to be me...

I am so sick of this loneliness,
If there exist almighty powers,
They should not be blind to me.

Me, they all should be blessing,
Save me from all that cursing,
Lest I die vainly in my grief.

My HP Poem #1519
©Atul Kaushal
Henley Brooks Apr 22

The sadness in your eyes
brought back memories
when I looked at you today,
memories that took me back
to what seems like a lifetime ago.
I saw the emptiness,
the void that now exists
where the irises of your eyes
used to flash color and life.
The light in your smile still lingers,
I can see its memory in the corners of your frown.
The color of your skin
betrays your nod
when asked if you're feeling better.
Your pale, frail little body
looked like a knot, all curled up
in that way on your hospital bed,
and as much as I hated myself for it
I silently cast pity on you.
Your attempt at conversation
was drown out of my ears
by the ringing of a thousand pills
hitting the bathroom counter,
what a beautiful tragedy your parents must have found,
their baby girl
splayed out on the floor like a heap of laundry
needing to be washed.
And you were,
washed that is,
they pumped your stomach the moment you arrived.
All those chemicals filling you
so you'd never be hungry again.
I noticed your scars,
and your freshly made art
hastily carved into your bark
so you wouldn't forget your intentions.
I can feel the thickness
of the air
weighing on you,
and I wish I had something to say
to help lift the burden,
so I simply leave you with
“things will get better,”
but you won't know that
until they do,
because I didn't know it
until now.

The Right Thing

What would you do
With a life in your hands?
Those begging eyes
Pleading for clemency
For an existence hanging in the balance.
So easy it would be
To let the knife drop
To let the bullet fly
Out of your control
Snuffing out another.
Would it satisfy you
To see the skin go pallid
The eyes glaze over
A carcass crumple to your feet?
Do you enjoy the thought
Of a mother weeping
A father distraught
A family rendered asunder
From your crime?
I pity you
The likes for which this decision is easy.
Just hope that if you ever find your life
In someone else’s hands
They know
The right decision to make.

This is not mine, but my youngest son's work. He is shy about publishing. His name is Stephen Francis.

I tell you all of this with only the truth in mind.
I don't want your pity, your consolations, or those beautiful eyes looking down on mine.

I want you to understand what you're getting into, and I want you to accept that before I swallow you whole.

How?
How come you look so similar
So similar to me?
Or do I look like you
And the opposites we have been born to be?
You,
Short, endowed, a sublime storm of art and chaos
Me,
Slender, twig-like, an anxious force of half-capabilities
The raven hair
The similar eyes
Not in color, but intuitive sight
Latched on to the first of our lives
And refusing to move forward
While constantly looking back at the past
You and I
Me and You
We are the same
As much as we are different beings, we are the same
And you hate me with such passion
The red of my blood would light your paintings on fire
I pity you with heavy hearts and immeasurable patience
I could drown in the ocean of your own tears.
But we are the same
And there is nothing we can do about it.
So I'll keep you in my thoughts
Dear doppelgänger
As I persist in yours.

shaf Apr 11

Shaf

I know you love her , she's treat you well , and you fell in love , but there is someone waiting for your love. Each "sujud" I always prayed for you , your health , your success  , but unfortunately , you just looked at the same girl , I dared not tell you because I knows 'I' and 'You' has never been together,  in fact, "the man who love the girl" was more beautiful than I , sad to know that.
shaf Apr 11

Shaf

I know you love her , she's treat you well , and you fell in love , but there is someone waiting for your love. Each "sujud" I always prayed for you , your health , your success  , but unfortunately , you just looked at the same girl , I dared not tell you because I knows 'I' and 'You' has never been together,  in fact, "the man who love the girl" was more beautiful than I , sad to know that.
shaf Apr 11

Shaf

I know you love her , she's treat you well , and you fell in love , but there is someone waiting for your love. Each "sujud" I always prayed for you , your health , your success  , but unfortunately , you just looked at the same girl , I dared not tell you because I knows 'I' and 'You' has never been together,  in fact, "the man who love the girl" was more beautiful than I , sad to know that.

Pity him, or her...pity them
Pity those victims of devastation
And infestations
And molestation
Pity the children...those abandoned babies
But it is not enough...
Please...do something beyond pity.

Pity those in extreme poverty,
Suffering from incapabilities...
Pity those with agonizing hearts
Because of missing body parts
Marred, disfigured, debilitated
Physically,
Emotionally
Psychologically..
But, it is not enough
Please...do something beyond pity.

Pity even those with aching hearts
Devastated, with broken hearts
Who find it difficult to heal
Believe again, a cruel world, so real.

Be guided,in reflecting,
There are others more deserving,
Beware of those who are self-serving
Know who are in most need of caring
Know that, beyond pity, there's more to be done
Much can be done...If we all try to be one.


Sally

Copyright April 6, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

#abandonedbabies #abusedchildren #molestation #devastation #incapabilities #pity #npmimportant

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