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To be *****
Is to become so numb
You have to be triggered to feel
Anything at all.
The absence of pain
Is a pain in and of itself.
two hellbound held me down the third buggered me,
"Oh buggery, he's makin' me uncomfortable",
try a self rolled ****** up your sore hole!,
squirmin' in Me seat,screaming in ME soul,
Maybe I AM possessed,Demon's in control?
they talk to God!...maybe I AM lying???
outside uncrying,inside undying,
Like Zombie Jesus...three days trying
Not to be too inquisitive bad seeds flyin'
not court but Church obsession in Session
escape this Grave, this Cave of Oppression,
Like Socrates I'm put to the question,
Suppression of Truth starts with my "Aggression"
I.E. "Rob's angry, buachaill dána",
But the School's still Cool lets forget the Garda!"

by Commandment it's a misunderstandment-mistake,
we're SURE Rob didn't mean when he screamed out ****!,
Brother Mo Lester says no need for assault cries,
Once YOUR Son admits HIS faults in the Lord's eyes!
sure Men will be Men and Boys will be Boys,
lay down childs toys, "Lay Priest Seeks Toyboys"
Oops I apologize, Father Stupid,
That's my Dating profile on OK CUPID!
whatcha mean I lied about my Height? Nun please,
EVERYONE looks tall when you're on your knees!
You mean Boyz 2 Men is not a delivery route?
For Heaven's sakes Hells bells who'll blow my flute!?!
buachaill dána=Bad Boy
This is an attempt to let some Truth out with a little dark humour in it,
if you feel offended please feel free to take it up with your local clergy.
on the 20th of February 1987,
a young boy realised there was no Heaven,
***** by a priest he would trust with his life
****** muddy tears as he cried out to Christ,

the pain and the shame twisted in him like a knife
harrowing and harrying the rest of his life,
the guilt and MORE shame-now he's the one to blame?
tyrannical abuse has put his soul in the frame

like Dorian Gray,his life is fading away,
like the thousands of others betrayed in the same way,
by authority figures with a license to abuse

who look on their sacred charges as toys to use
you seem confused,you've never seen it on the news?,
decades of abuse kids ***** and abused,
and the Nuns just as bad Girls treated like slaves,
innocent Babes buried in shallow graves

The grubby crimes committed by a small proportion
from child abuse to forced slavery and abortion
the conduit to heaven is a broken kaleidescope,
grubby Cherubim Satanicus removed all hope. rpt x 2

Cry til you have cataracts, modern day Cataphracts
trapped in the catacombs by the evil Tesseract,
of twisted trappings of a dead gods worship,
the treasure Galleons turned out to be Warships,
loaded with diseased idols that turn on you like the Ark,
eyes burnt out by evil primeval sparks,
friendly dolphins were revealed to be Sharks,
as you slowly slip...ever further in the dark.
This Poem and it's "Brother"- Unchristian was one of the most difficult things I've ever written.(it's not 100% finished,I need my full strength to finish it off)
Every PIECE of it is fact not fiction,I tried to tell My Story and that of my Friends old and new who suffered at the hands of monsters who claimed to be angels.

IS IT a small proportion? We'll never know how many.

Her glass was half empty
in more ways than one
She lies awake
still haunted by all of the promises broken
all of the to gropes unnoticed
all of the refusals ignored
She wondered if she was asking for it
but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway
She couldn’t stop the sky from falling
They take what they want
while she lives in a storm of melted ice
throwing punches to her own head
trying to beat out the feelings no one will validate
Punishing her body for the sins of her mind
She was hurt by those she trusted
she was burned by the stars she reached for
No one is coming to rescue her from her
So she hides under the bar in the shadows
from evils one couldn’t imagine
With bottles of contempt broken over her head
being burned to a million ashes
sprinkled in the ocean
The flashing lights can’t brighten
the darkness she knows too well
She wondered if she was meant to suffer forever
Trying to punish herself with each sip
Looking for God in the spilled drink on the floor
getting high to be closer to heaven
She would never tell you about the forced submission
the stardust left behind
in place of her innocence
She knows no one would believe her
so she believes in nothing

- Starlet
Mark Oct 4
It's not time to have a crusade

Just settle down, take it slowly

You're still naive, that's your culture

There's so much you have to do though

Find a cause, totally commit

if you want you can join

Look at me, I am wise, but I'm content

I was made for this life, yes indeed

You were made for this life, with me

and I can't get enough of this life

Can you get enough of me?

Welcome to the Grand Cathedral Deluxe

Such a heavenly pad (Such a heavenly pad)

Such a heavenly pad

Plenty of spirit at the Grand Cathedral Deluxe

Very nice indeed (Very nice indeed)

You can get a feed

You may say I'm a believer

But I'm not the Holyfield one

I hope someday he'll help us

And the church will pray as one

They can't go on preaching

With deviant minds

And we can't enjoy our youth

'cause of deviant minds

Like at *******

felt for the very first time

Like at *******

when you get goosebumps [out in public, makes you feel bad]

Priest don't mind

Everywhere there sinning now

I'm surrounded by your members

Father, I can see your demon

You know you're my trusted place

You're everything I trust and adore

It's written all over your face

Father, I can see your demon

Pray ya won't mess me about

'Cause your gettin' baptised alright

And no one's gonna save you from the priest about to sin

You know your baptised, baptised alright

You're screaming for your life, inside the confession box, baptised alright

We don't need no vandalism

We don't need no higher order

No dark secrets in the cloakroom

Preachers leave them boys alone

Hey preacher leave them boys alone

All in all you're just another ***** in my life

All in all you're just another brick in my life

Cause if you liked it, doesn't mean you can put ya stick in it

If you liked it then you should've got a grown-up with a hole in it

Don't get mad, once you see that he's 'bout to blow

If you liked it then you should've got a blowup with a hole in it

Let me wait for him to get so near to me

Creepy Cardinal Priest

Drop your ******* and stop your abuse

Creepy Cardinal Beast

Bring it on


Pray Ay Ay Ay

Pray Ay Ay Ay Ay

Pray Ay Ay Now
My mom always tell me that the doctors
Took heroic efforts to save my life,
That they went above and beyond the call of duty,
That if they hadn't thought me too
"Smart" and "beautiful" and "having the whole world going for me,"
I would be dead.
Number one: No one's chance of survival should depend on
Their looks, their opportunities, their cognitive ability.
Number two: None of it should've been necessary.
My text messages in the evening hours of 2/12/19
Are filled with the likes of "I don't feel safe,"
"I hate myself,"
"I am suicidal."
Their responses were simply,
"Do the best you can" and "Talk to the RA."
Yet they were surprised when 1 AM on 2/13/19
Found me in a hospital bed undergoing resuscitation.
When I woke up 10 days later,
They all wanted to know, "Why didn't you tell anybody?"
Farout Sep 26
Poisonous resentment,
Dripping down my esophagus.
Like the salvia you coaxed down my throat,
Icy cold and bitter.

Purple chrysanthemums blooming,
On my pale, once innocent flesh.
Eyes fogged by deception,
I am unable to escape you.

The seed of regret plants itself in my heart,
Roots of the weeds rip through me,
Polluting the heart, tainting the blood.
Paralysed, you force me down and tear me apart.

Fog clears my vision
just like drug laced honey you fed me
I see your true form in the window of my future
Pathetic old man, I’m not afraid of you.

Your claws saturated with manipulation
Grasp and tear at my flesh
But you can’t trap me here any more
I’m not your hostage
This is a poem about my experience being about being groomed. I’m not the best at poetry, I just use it to vent.
basil Sep 24
we're the girls, we're the girls, we're the girls.

one time, he asked to finger me. and i said no. but it's my fault. it's my fault.

we were at his house. originally, he had asked to just eat me out. he asked me do i remember the time he had wanted to do it before, i said yeah, i remember, but i need to ***. i'll **** in your mouth. haha. okay, so can i finger you instead? no, i'd rather you not, but he persisted. come onnnnn!! please?

okay, so yes. i said yes. that is was fine. i told him i was alright with it. he doesn't know what he did. he doesn't know what he did.

did i want it? no! but i did say yes. that means he's innocent. it's my fault.

we were playing minecraft. i asked can i go to the restroom, he said yeah, so i headed upstairs. his parents were home. i could have asked for help.

the deed was done. i had asked him to stop- it hurt- so he eventually did. i was in pain.

we're still friends.

we're the girls, we're the girls, we're the girls.

summer going in to 8th grade. my boyfriend liked to touch me... a lot. he was always really mean to me. i'd beg him to stop, but a nervous laugh always followed. he never took me seriously. the abuse continued until i finally gained the courage to break up with him.

we're the girls, we're the girls, we're the girls.

half the school has seen me naked. i don't know how to say no. my body doesn't feel like mine anymore. all yours, for you to take advantage of.

we're the girls, we're the girls, we're the girls.

i have an eating disorder that tears me apart piece by piece. i just want to be perfect so you will LOVE ME. there's nothing more to me than a disgusting, rotting, body.

we're the girls, we're the girls, we're the girls.

one night, i chugged ***** until i vomited all over the carpet at etc coffee house.

i just wanted to feel okay.

we're the girls, we're the girls, we're the girls.

my sister got ***** in the closet next to my room. i thought she was just having ***. i got in the shower so i didn't have to hear the noise.

i could have gone in there and stopped him.

we're the girls, we're the girls, we're the girls.

one time in middle school, i cut myself and someone reported it to the guidance counselor. i begged her not to tell my mom so she never did.

we're the girls, we're the girls, we're the girls.

i told my friend that i got sexually assaulted. he made jokes about it and laughed. i went home and cried.

we're the girls, we're the girls, we're the girls.
The hardest thing to reconcile
Is that you genuinely believed you love me,
And I truly loved you.
Now, I confuse gentle touch for hostile
Because you were wonderfully gentle
Until you weren't,
Before returning to gentle again.
The hardest part to reconcile is how you could be "so in love,"
Yet in that moment,
You were only concerned for your pleasure.
With a love like that,
I would never need enemies.
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