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You held a promise
over my head like a guillotine,

I'd be safe as long as I did
what you asked,

I'd survive so long as I
gave you what you wanted,

I saw God in the face of Satan,
because there was no other
way for it to be,

and you want my thanks
and gratitude for being
my saviour that

when you would put me
in a prison, for the rest of my life...
Carlo C Gomez Mar 19
undefined spine
so close, in lordosis

will gravity win tonight?

around a fountain

she's curving toward
rebirthing cisterns
about the recesses
of her question mark


privately electrified
in beautiful confusion
the brain is lost

innately she takes
another drink from my hands
I swear
next time a person  tells me ,
"oh she looks like a  little ****
oh she's slept with too many men ,
oh she's too much of an angry feminist."

I would love to ask them
do you think she's such an
I know why I AM!!!!

BECAUSE when so many men &women
have ***** abused assaulted
hurt me with words
emotionally abused manipulated
gaslighted me
you feel poisoned by the men
who should've protected you
and when you feel that way by many women too
than where does that leave you ??
it leaves you hating most people
so stop tellin' us
real feelings from the traumas I've been through

song-dead men don't ****
where do i go
do i go home
why did the abuser
have to feel so familar
so happy
i got out in 2 days
instead of longer
it hurts
that I felt the pain again
at the patriarchy
at the men
who claim to be good
when they are really just
hating creatures
who believe
that they can try to control me
manipulate me
influence me
or bend me to their ways
to break you
I will be respected
no matter
who I must avoid
or cut off
I am tired of men ruling my life
I am
as well as all of the ancestors behind me
raging against most of the horrible men out there
For the good men out there
I can't wait to meet more of you
and to actually converse
and have nice interactions
patriarchy men abuse ****** assault
Till It happens to you
Quortni Moore Nov 2022
It’s been a while…
It truly has been a while since I’ve written here, but yesterday I was triggered, inspired if you will; inspired to write this and let it be real.
When I was a child, 2nd grade to be exact, I befriended a ******* the school bus and long story short she spent my entire 2nd grade year manipulating me into all kinds of ****** acts not only with her but with other classmates. I was told by this girl, my classmate, another child, a second grader that everything we were doing was okay, it was all okay. Why?? Because her and her sisters did this kind of thing all the time.
To me as a child it made sense I guess, but she also threatened that if I ever told anyone as in ANYONE she would tell them it was all my fault all my idea. All of the staying in classrooms when no one was there, hiding and being told to do things that were beyond a child’s or even some adult’s comprehension, the hiding anywhere and everywhere and the fear of being caught it all was in my hands, and if i told I was to blame.
This went on for an entire year, or so who knows I blacked it out, but I vividly remember using a journal I got as gift to document it all detailed and when I got scared my mom would find it… I ripped the pages to shreds. And I killed the memory. I went my entire life until 19 years old that I realized it was never a dream.
It was real.
The point of this all is during a deep discussion With my best friend, I expressed to her the moment after all these years that remembered the girls name.
I told her one day my mom found a different journal I wrote in as a child, she found it a couple years ago and I was intrigued so I flipped to a random page… and on that page it was a prompt that asked my favorite and least favorite things about school.
My least favorite thing about school is: J**h .
There it was!!! Her name .
I told my best friend her name and seeing as though after I left the school district she stayed, we recalled the girl and how I can’t see her face in my mind but she knew she had a twin sister and they left the district after 2nd or 3rd grade and they came back in middle school. However by middle school I had transferred schools.

Long story short it shock my entire being that I missed this encountering this girl again . And I will never know her face or why she chose me but all I know is she was just the beginning of my trauma.
Such vulnerable desire.
Eclipse pupils, wide like the moon.
Corrupted mind, wet with *******.
In this darkness will you know me?
Reach out and feel me, I am here for you.
I cant bother my time with a creature that left me striken.
I want you still even after the vicious pain you put me through.
There’s something in your eyes that I need for myself.
The night is my relief, take me as I am.
Trust for me…feel for me…down on your knees for me.
Claim my name again.
I want to hear it dripping from that perfect mouth of yours.
The wonders ill perform on you.
I want to hear you whining.
I want to taste your disease poisoning my lips.
I want to see deliberate submission.
Having you under me, having you for myself.
To have my way with you, to want you this bad.
Staring into these hollow eyes, you’ll be crawling towards me again.
Begging on the cold floor.
Begging for me.
The view below me so pretty, your body so writhing.  
My mouth on your neck, come weak for me.
Hands on your throat, I feel you.
You are my obsession, release yourself.
You belong to me.
ARI Sep 2022
They act like time
Is the maid that comes to sweep away
The horrors and the pains of our past
When really she is the secretive  secretary
Who takes inventory of all the trauma
Sewn into our stories throughout the years

Time doesnt heal brokenness for she is no witch.
She simply covers our gaping wounds
Made from living through nightmares until
The surface of our pain is healed enough
To leave only angry scars as life long reminders

lilly grace Jul 2022
at the hands of a holy man, I was taken away
I'm not sure what they did with her but
she's still gone to this day
I don't know if we'll ever find her
but be my guest and try
and if you do, from me through you, tell her
it's ok to cry
haven't posted in a second, enjoy this beginning of something
What do you want from me?
I ask my memories,
Wondering why they’ve come out to play,
Tap dancing across the wood floors of me mind,
Creating a cacophony that echoes off my skull.
What do you want from me?
I hear them when they respond, “We’re trying to make you safe.”
I know they’re attempting to prevent tumbling off the same rocks,
Trying to ensure I don’t crack bones on the same hard places.
They are telling me to avoid having pieces of me stolen again.
I couldn’t protect myself at thirteen or sixteen,
So I stumbled down the same dark alleys until I was 18
And paid a grander price in an even darker cave at 19.
I’m 22 now, and I’m still picking up the pieces out of the mouths of men,
Men who cut me down until I was a conglomerate of bite size, fuckable pieces.
I was taught not to scream when my pieces were being consumed.
Who needs to be a whole human anyway?
If tip money went into my pocket,
If he told me he loved me afterwards,
If I was alive to see the morning light,
Who was I to complain?  
And when I stopped wanting to see the sun rise,
They gazed upon my pieces
And berated me for the wreckage.
What do you want from me?
Is a question I only know how to ask myself.
I have never dared ask those who stole from me
Whether they came to me in good faith,
Never had the wisdom to lock up what was valuable.
I have never demanded of anyone what their intentions were,
So I ask again: What do you want from me?
What am I expected to provide?
Am I allowed to be a whole human here?
Or will you require I be bite size again?
I am desperate to be safe in the same flesh that once enticed those who hunted me.
What do you want from me?
I’ll tell you what I want.
I want to go home whole,
Knowing my skin is all mine.
Monique Clavier Apr 2022
you caused this fire
with a dimpled smile and a plane ticket
can’t suffocate a blaze with a match
petrol running down my legs
wanna watch me burn at the stake?
7,000 miles of wildfires called me by your name

like a moth drawn to a flame
we kissed on the light up floor
your fingers inside of me, it was divine to me
surrendering my soul to my god
left my lipstick scars all over you

i ate the apple from the softness of your hand
our garden of eden was no holy land
i let you knock at the door of my spine
no malice in my voice, come inside
but baby, you weren’t expecting
me to multiply

like a moth drawn to a flame
i bit your tongue in the break of day
wanted to taste your blood for a change
nothing like a little emotional
devastation to get me through it

yell it más, señor
til your vocal cords are ******
oath taken in sacred silence
tragedy and insanity and is
it all a game to you?
because you hid while i sought
yell it más, señor
yell it más

and when i told you of the flower blossoming within
you cried like a boy for his mother
you see, there’s no way we can keep it
not for your career

and the next day on the 405
my soul wrung empty inside
suffocating loneliness, all-consuming
75mph, nearly opened my door
told my therapist i wanted the asphalt to eat me alive

they took me to the madhouse
while you had a pint and a laugh miles from my hospital bed
they said
“she wants to end her life with a baby inside, oh, what a terrible state she’s in”

the doctor watched me as i cried
with cigarette breath and roaming hands
forced the wand inside of me
at the same time i jumped over the ledge
and did you know i laid in silence
while he whispered in my ear

“good girl, it’s a girl”, you see, oh?
can’t you feel the joy?
of creating something like God herself?
like vines sprouting from the soil?
but Oceania, so much panic, yeah
too far, didn’t wanna come near
my ash-strewn wreckage

like a moth drawn to a flame
blazing light, burned just right
i wanted you to suffocate my pain
pretended it didn’t exist for our

transpacific love games
i’ll be Marilyn and you be Errol
the actor who can’t survive any longer
and the one who devoured a woman whole

yell it más, señor
oh god i’m bleeding on the bathroom floor
so much sacrifice for paradise
but isn’t this what it’s for?
tragedy and insanity and
oh no, it’s all a game, i see
yell it más, señor
yell it más

yell it mas, señor. a poem adaptation of a song of the same name that i wrote. also hello again hellopoetry!
CW: abortion, coerced abortion, abortion guilt, suicidal ideation, ****** assault by a medical professional

certain verses/choruses/phrases were changed in their entirety. this was completely a vent piece that i basically vomited onto my keyboard about an international long-distance, long-term relationship i was in, an unexpected fluke of a pregnancy, medical negligence/****** harassment, an abortion, the dissipation of his love for me, and the guilt that haunts me. not exactly a light read. BTW i’m 1000% pro-choice and am blessed that i was able to have safe and relatively easy access to a clinic following my termination. the guilt i feel for my abortion is normal for certain folks and does not mean that i did anything wrong. it was correct but the situation was traumatic
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