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Jade Bartlett Jan 18
If I am writing about you now,
then you have stolen from me
something as precious
as the gem I was named for--
my voice.

Though,
I'm afraid our encounters
were never quite as cinematic
as Disney's animation--
no tantalizing mist of green
shrouding our figures,
no sweet harmony
evaporating from a
frightened, rouged mouth
in wisps of golden light,
and absolutely no
happily ever afters.

See,
you've always had
a catty flair
for stepping all over me
like a Just Dance Mat--
yes, I'm quite familiar
with the way you toy
with others, myself included;
and the **** has never
defeated the Game Master.

Call a ***** a *****;
I know very well that
I can't change you
or what you did me.

I can't undo the hurt.

But I can reclaim my voice.

Through poetry,
I will say all the things
I wish I had the courage
to say to you
way back when
in response to your
cruel fuckery.

I will expose you
for what you truly are--
a petty,
self-righteous
sea (witch) *****.
Don't be a stranger--check out my blog!

jadefbartlett.wixsite.com/tickledpurple

(P.S. Use a computer to ensure an optimal reading experience.)
Savy Oct 2018
You praised my heart and helping hand
And for the longest time I could not understand
How any of that could make me special
Until you used those words to describe her
And how perfect she is.

And that is the paragraph on how you broke my heart for the first time ever.

But even in my darkest hour, my darkest day
Your doings could not take my humor away.
I am more than what you did to me,
I am more than what you made me feel.

Even when you broke my heart
I could not be mean enough to try and tear you apart.
I cried so many tears,
But for the next few years
I wished you only the best.

Even after you left that gaping hole
Right there in the very centre of my soul,
I could not hate you, never hate you
Because I loved you, always loved you
Beyond your kind heart and helping hands
Your everlasting patience and my high demands
You understood me like no one else had ever done
You listened to me when I was undone
You cared for me when I broke down
And then you took my heart, my very crown.

You broke my heart, my spirit, my pride
But the one thing you could never take from me is my reflex to fight
I'll fight your impact, your demeanour, what you made me feel
I'll reclaim what you took me from me and reveal
Once and for all what I know to be my greatest strength
My love for myself. And that can really
For real
Unlike you
And what I once allowed myself to feel for you
Last the entire length.
Sara Nelson Sep 2018
It's time to burn the bridges I built
While you were widening the gap.
It's about reclaiming parts of me
That I trusted you to hold.
It has nothing to do with you.
You've done enough damage,
This is my fire.
Journey of Days Sep 2017
that ocean
yeah
cried that one
land reclamation now underway

@journeyofdays
G Rog Rogers Aug 2017
One man alone...emerges
seeking to claim His own

Barely, yes
but still breathing

Desolations disgrace
is what has been shown

Clawing up from where
crushingly abandoned

Sure to escape
the horror the man
He has known

Describe Him
despicable rejected
Quite altogether forlorn
Surely far lower
than hopeless

Still advancing steadily on

There is not one
that He can call out to
Neither friend
nor family or home

Ignoring
the laughter of cynics
Oblivious
to the jeering of scorn

The continuous
critical whispers
only lengthen the sojourn He is upon

But still through
the music of His conscious
His soul cries
a sad quiet groan
The total
incalculable sorrow
of all the man He has borne

Finding
yet always pursuing
Searching for all
His destiny has sworn

One man alone......emerges
Seeking....... and sure
to reclaim His Own.

-R.

(06)
TX
©2017
Idiosyncrasy Aug 2017
Maybe it's too late for us
But it's not too late for me.

*I'll save me.
Back up.
Temporal Fugue Jan 2017
The break room ****'s run around
turning off the dripping taps and turned on lights
While in all the other rooms and grounds
sprinklers dripping water and everything's so bright

The erstwhile logic, saving a dying ant
tiny and minuscule, void of better thoughts
As in cities and towns, it's not insignificant
children dying, hungry and for naught

Everything is precious and everything is rare
everything a snowflake or a single grain of sand
Unique to every venue as nothing can compare
saving every single creature and each and every man

Reality a nightmare to conservation's contrived
doing what we can saving because we care
As down to the last, not everyone survives
yes, yes, I know, life's never ever fair
(Totally reworded P.o.S. from another life :D)
Sometimes nature chooses what has to go, and she uses the best tool to do that, man usually fits the bill, shrug. D:
.
.
Amitav Radiance Apr 2015
The woods have become denser
Where roots have gone deeper
Lost between the intricate mesh
Of the branches and that hold
Embracing each other in a synergy
Here the lost soul is looking for a way
To navigate between the labyrinth
Ideas and thoughts are not porous
Ground realities have become grim
Recoiled are the roots deep within
Looking to move away from the lacunae
As the woods come closer and grasp
This soul has no answer to the questions
Pertinent doubts are raised
No looking away from the harsh world
Feeling crushed between two realities
A hallucinatory phase feels so real
Nothing but prisoners we are
Caught between the woods of reality
Souls filtered us through travails
Here are the sediments seeping
Deep into the ground, where roots reclaim
Frank Ruland Sep 2014
And She will reclaim it all--
everything beneath our smoggy skies
and everything our urban asphalt
has tainted with chemicals and pall.
Despite all of our very best tries,
she will recycle our waste and tumult.

When we become our withered forms,
and bleach white relics litter Earth,
Her verdant tendrils will assimilate.
Ashes-to-ashes; dust-to-dust storms
Nutrients, gathered; much to Her mirth
Promise to change, but it's too late.

Sunken warship; rusted, underwater reef
Statues of sovereignty; fragmented, broken
Soaring skyscraper; spilling onto the street
Herculean dam; buckled, bleak, disbelief
Playground overtaken; innocence, choking
Religious steeples; dilapidated, obsolete.

Everything shall return to as it was
Lumber to wood, concrete to sediment
Nothing will remain; no speck of us
Before and after-- effect and cause
Reclamation is mutual; no sentiment
She reclaims, and it will be thus.
Felicia C Jul 2014
I don’t know how love works.

But I know I left you on a Sunday after spending six months trying to shove the words that escaped me into the dozens of envelopes that you had sent over the last six years.

I don’t know how loves works but I know that Christmas Eve, when you held me and I cried, it was because I was already losing track of your world map hands as you navigated the clams in the soup your brother made.

I don’t know how love works, but I know that over spring break, i bought flowers i knew you wouldn’t even like to say I’m sorry, even though I knew I was just trying to make things better temporarily until I got the courage to say goodbye.

I don’t know how love works, but I know that when you force feed yourself a certain amount of affection, your body starts to reject it. You can only fill up so much artificial substitute for love, like cotton candy filling up my head and grape flavoring spilling out of my mouth all over your bedsheets like the time i was drunk and spilled hot chocolate with marshmallows and you yelled at me like they would never be clean again.

I can’t love a terrarium. I get too frustrated with things I can’t touch. I can’t fill up any more phone calls with rainstorms and giving up.
April 2013
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