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M Salinger Apr 2021
I wash your sins
within me

I heal
and nurture
them

not for you,
and one moment
on your long list.

I cleanse
your transgressions for me

and for her,

and our daughters
and their daughters.

In the
undercurrent of my
being,
I bathe my wound
and swim
and search

for a way
forward,

because what is
existence
if not time
pulling
us along?

-

I think
I was born into
this life
a healer.

To feel this shared
pain
and see its shadows

as if light, reflecting
and dancing
against a wall,
creating
constellations
of
heartache.

I see now
my purpose,

to connect with the
heavens unknown
from this

earth

so this wicked
energy may
leave
this

world.

And us.

To nourish each other,
so that we can choose
to transcend
pain

a human existence,
where love
and its triumphs,
and
deepest
darkest
of
pitfalls

coalesce
into this flesh
to
cross both space and time
to make
generations.

This flesh,
that I now wear
proudly,
albeit
timidly
at times.

This paradox,
I want
for her too.
M Salinger Mar 2021
I'm sad.
And that's okay.

This heaviness in my heart
is not mine alone,
I carry it for my mother
and my father
and his mother

I carry it for her husband

who quickly became
the demon
sleeping in the
shadows
that then became
a
stain
who's faint edges
still linger.

Deep and bruised
like my heart
after that day
confused and
oh, so green

I was already shedding
my innocence,
but you stole
hers

in one moment.

And for this
she
starves
herself
of nourishment

of unadulterated
joy

her body,
something she feels
shame
about

all because you thought
every
body
was yours
to be played
with.
sofolo Feb 2021
Oh mama I tried my best
Danced across the lawn
Oh mama I was not blessed
Heart sang until dawn

Your protector held me close
Casual conversation with a hand below
From open door she took off her clothes
Trust was broke—buried under snow

Like a sister only she was bruised
Another had tainted the shell
How could she have known
This was just another hell

In youth he was my friend
Held me to his chest
Innocent yet I felt shame
Was this more evil than ******

Oh how I thought I could pretend
Poetry on a doormat
Mama would that make you proud
If I were as tame as a house cat

I grew older and tried even harder
She smiled and I bowed
Oh my stars it was so strange
Lips silent while my soul was loud

Oh mama here am I
More me than I've ever been
Oh mama can you see
(Oh mama can't you see)
I ignite the night like a firefly

Oh mama he broke my heart
Made me happy until I thought I'd break
(Made me happy, made me shake)
Oh mama he turned away
Love twisted like a snake

Oh mama I’m a monument
Chiseled by loss, painted in pain
Oh mama I love you so
I am onyx now—do not lament  

Children, she is magic
She smirks with a spark
Children, she is a celestial body
A matriarch

Oh mama I tried my best
Well-taught by you
Oh mama I am blessed
Spell is broken
Truth is spoken
Life awoken
From the ground
Something springs up
Anew
Written in 2018. Rhythmically inspired by the song Nests by Keaton Henson.
J Mcinelly Feb 2021
Some people say love is the most extravagant feeling in the world

People in bad situations would probably disagree

People domestically abused, and everyone unconcerned

They really hope one day they can just be free

But can they?

No hope, no help, nobody to guide them out

The feelings of, anger, sorrow and, betray

Even when out of these situations there is still doubt

I hope the pain goes away, but that’s something I simply can’t control

You can't rule me like a ******* gaming console

You stole everything from me

My, laughter, love and smile

Things I won't have back for a long while
if you are in a bad situation, the domestic abuse hotline is  1-800-799-7233
Nola Leech Jan 2021
Mommy, nothing about the way you raised me was normal
It hurts me to think out of everyone you may have hurt me the worst
Because you allowed me to think it was normal
You put me in ****** situations at an extremely young age
Momma, I was four
This was before Dad died
He was on top of you and I was on top of him
If it didn’t happen then why do I remember the PJs i was wearing?
Why do I remember how sweaty he was and how the tv was going?
I remember it was late and my sister was sleeping in her room
Why should I have to explain this to you?
I know you remember
I always thought it was normal how you let me look and touch your body
I was six or seven, I was curious about what I was always exposed to
It made me uncomfortable that you would always talk about how you loved my *******
I told you this
I will most likely never tell
Because I am scared of the men you exposed me to
But I am more scared of you
I thought that you’d never hurt me
But nothing about the way I was raised was normal
In conclusion found out that my bio mother had been molesting me too and making sure that I thought it was normal my whole life so any man that wanted to could hurt me and I wouldn't think twice
She touched me. In something so indifferent to maternity,
an inhumane humanity drying me of innocence.
She took my body, now a stranger of skin, and made it
a mess of cells that collide in agony.
Broken, may I say, but a break that'll never heal.
Fingers I can't quite comprehend, lacking dignity wholly.
I hate her. I hate how I still feel her hands on me sometimes,
an immortal grasp at my pride. I hate her.
This isn't my body. She stripped me of that right when she touched me.
This vessel I possess is proof that maternity can cruelly switch to molestation, and how disheartening the world can become once you meet its evils.
Brutality in the act is only half of it though, the rest is trying to cope with the loss of your own skin.
Not a body, just a brain weighed down by pounds of flesh that became property to an abuser six years ago.
I rarely feel human anymore, and that's if I ever did to begin with.
I am a thing. A thing designed to make other people happy, even if my own health, mental or physical, is compromised in the process.
The process, an activity ranging from starvation to downright ****** abuse. I used to starve sometimes for this woman just so I'd be praised, just so I'd feel worthy of living.
Losing sleep, losing my ******* mind, all for her to facetiously downplay the traumas she consistently constructed.
Carefully orchestrated, a symphony of horrors frequent to my mind, my body.. She stole my own life from me.
A part of me remains within her, and that sadly,
is what hurts the most.
My mother sexually abused me when I was 12, and then when I was 16. It is those parts of my life that I hate the most.
Renae Dec 2020
Remember me?
It wasn't that long ago, was it?
I was so carefree
I would shine like sunlight
staight through the trees
Dance like a rainbow across
the sky
No fear of, "who am I"
I could be anything
No fences hold me
I will travel the world
I will sing from balconies
I will tackle any mountain
I will swim the 7 seas
I am not gone
I remember me.
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