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Mona May 2020
rePRESS
rePRESS
rePRESS

until my airwaves are compressed
close my eyes
but nothing puts my mind at rest
keep the emotions at bay
bottle them and let them fade
yet they intensify
tell yourself another ******* lie
unbeknown to you, they bubble and bubble
all that's left is the aftermath
the burnt rubble
until you can no longer hide
pull the trigger, you died
rest in peace
my mind is finally at ease
an expression of how my defence mechanism of choice, repression, serves me. yet it's seeming advantages hide an insidious undertone.
Diego Morales Mar 2020
It is odd to think we are free,
And to idealize liberty, and to praise expression.
But how at large can we truly be,
If within, we can only draw upon unruly self-repression?

If in public, we dare not speak our minds?
If our love, we dare not confess?
If to wrongs, we turn blind?
If from singing our hearts, we digress?

We claim to be free,
The thought alone, within us, sets a torch alight,
But the truth for truth we must see,
When given a pen, hardly one of us would write.
Anisah Mar 2020
The thing about the river,
is it takes away your pain,
absorbing all yout tragedies
and locking them far away.

I've got black holes in my memories
from where the river rushed.
Left behind all I find
is a minefield drenched in dust.

The thing about the river,
is it gives you memories new,
fills up with a distraction
to stop you falling through.

Because millions of fragments
are enough to peice together
a distorted crystalisation
of a time when things were better.

Yes the thing about the river,
is it's not a simple fete.
It takes your childhood in hands
and plasters it complete.

- Anisah Mariah
The river of childhood - protecting your mind from all those who could harm you, including your own memories.
Nikki Dec 2019
you walk alone with a head of horns
as everybody else leaves,
a mind without any ease,
you will have many more.
TIZZOP Dec 2019
repression is a matter
of trust

if they'd trust me they
wouldn't repress me

yet they don't trust
me

there is no right
life in the wrong one
Thedor W. Adorno: "The gods look in pleasure on penitent sinners."
effie ebbtide Oct 2019
oh LCD night! the incandescent yesterday
is burning to the touch--
my cathode-ray tube dreams, once switched off,
leave a film of electricty that leaves a shock on your finger
whenever you touch the doorknob.

the streetlights turn off when i step under them
and only when i look to them they glow.
i must have passed by this light a thousand times
and not once did i stop and think of it as anything
but a dim, yellowed, moth-ridden reminder
of the departed souls of roadkill
underneath.

how many secrets are hidden beneath this concrete?
how much bubbling rage does gravel conceal?
remember
David Hasselblad Sep 2019
Why do you hate me?

I hate you because I see what I used to be,
I hate you because I am weak and insecure,
Because if I didn’t.. love I might see,
Because my childhoods impure,

I hate you because I lashed out on others,
It burns and I try to help me, myself and I,
Shifting my pain to another,
Anxiety twisting my guts to cry,

The child who spit and bit,
Who tore emotions to shreds,
Always alone, in a fit,
Knotting my brains threads,

Suffered like my brother,
Abandon fills my soul,
Even when my hearts a flutter,
Relationships a fanatics parole,

Childhood lessons, are a lack of love,
Behind progress of mental bars,
Abandoned faith, in I and above,
Til all I taste is hell and fallen stars,

I hate that it’s unfair,
Irreparable damage, I’d rather forget,
A twisted, burning nerve to care,
Feeling, letting you in, I’ll regret,

Can’t help but feel,
That it’s all some ****** manic coup,
Always believe I’m letting myself heal,
I hate, otherwise I might love you.
Empire Jul 2019
She’s there
Right below the surface
Beneath the pleasantries,
Smiles, formalities
My little secret
My little monster
My undoing
She gathers her strength
As I tuck away the pain
Clawing, screaming
Desperate to escape
From the cage I built for her
I can’t fight her forever
But, I don’t always want to
She’s wonderfully fierce
Terribly powerful
Awfully seductive
I could lose myself in her...
In the darkness she breathes
One of these days
My strength will fail
She’ll make her escape
Finally, they’ll see that
Beneath the persona
Beneath the masks
Oh, you’ll find her
You’ll see
My alter ego
She’s there
Inspired by “Monster” by Skillet

Wrote this a while ago.... not sure why I didn’t post it...
Zywa Apr 2019
My own right started
underground, resisting
the parental authority
it clamped itself

Their religious own right too
started underground, resisting
the established power
it clamped itself
and hangers-on

it fantasized
over later and practiced
violence

so that I must remain silent
underground, powerless
I hold on
to understanding
what is not allowed
to be said

I fantasize
about the past and play football
without a ball
To play football without a ball is a scene in the movie “Timbuktu” (2014, Abderrahmane Sissako)

Collection “On living on”
Nicx Mar 2019
My legs and arms feel like they're stuck in mud
Trapped in a swamp of murky memories
A liquid so thick it hurts my lungs to fight the sinking
But theres no reflection here
So I won't let it swallow me
Most of the time I forget I'm fighting
The pain is so typical my body feels numb to it sometimes
But when I'm not rejecting my reality
Or repressing my circumstances
The all too familiar feeling
Anchors my body down so heavily
That even the idea
Of continuing to fill my lungs each moment
Is exhausting and debilitating.

The rare moments when I let myself feel things are excruciating
Anxiety claws through my chest
Like a rabid raccoon fighting for freedom
As terror bubbles through each of my muscles,
The only remainder of proof left
From the unspeakable and disgusting acts of others,
The memories I don't have anymore
The ones I choose to forget.

And yet they still keep trying so hard
To **** me into them
To make me remember them.
I didn't ask for this.
I didn't ask him to touch me.
I didn't ask her to hit me.
But I'm the one who's still stuck here
Fighting my past
Fighting myself
There's no reflection in this sludge of memories
Because I can't bring myself to look for one
I'm afraid that if I see myself in it
See what they did to me
See what I didn't do to stop it
I'll lose the last bit of sanity
That I am so desperately holding on to
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