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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
Verbatim Lynnie Jan 2021
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.
Verbatim Lynnie Jan 2021
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.
E Aug 2020
what makes you feel granted
manhandling my memories
stirring up my experience
diagnosing with no credentials
gaslighting feelings of fear
forcing to question what happened
mind entering a storm
chaos now runs free roam
flashbacks and dreams
dialogue and overwhelming voices
speaking over another
talking me into a box
leaving me there alone
he pulls the chain around it
and imprisons me with a lock

my teeth chatter when I’m anxious
body starts to shake
hands begin to clench
skin feels wave of heat
and I start to feel faint
stomach tells me I’m in danger
heart throbbing in concert with a clock
my face emotionless and stale
as I try to mask what puts me in more danger
of not feeling collected and vulnerable
trusted if I break a sweat they’ll see
make a sudden movement and touch
touch my soft skin marked with scars
I question which body part is next
as I sit in a freezing shock
that limits my movement
ability to think
and speak
as hands go and *****
I scream so loud
but nobody hears me
I am silent
lips unmoved
internal thoughts crying
there is so much to say
but I can’t get myself to speak
and I want those ***** hands off
but I can’t seem to move
body paralyzed
I start unpacking this to the darkness
never to be opened for my safety
throwing away the feelings
destroying what it felt like
is better than keeping it alive
so please
don’t touch me like that
had a traumatizing day.
Parin May 2020
I was in my bed, thinking
about what had happened the previous night.
Just him & I,
or was it a dream?
A nightmare so dark,
that it left on me a permanent mark.
 
It was too horrifying to be a reality,
that it robbed me of my sanity.
Why did he do that to me?
Even though I screamed,
even though I begged him to stop,
even though I said no,
I begged him to let me go.
 
But he didn’t.
 
I can still feel his body pressing against mine,
I can still hear him say “shh, quite” from time to time.
He slid his hand under my shirt & up my skirt,
& oh lord he was such a pervert.
He explored my body as if his own,
he went places where I didn’t want him to go.
 
Why did he?
Weren’t my words clear to him?
It was like he couldn’t get enough.
I was a game to him,
which he liked to play rough & tough.
 
He was sadistic & dominant,
he was fiendish & relentless.
The disgust I felt is something I cannot explain,
something I won’t forget.
I need to be set free,
from this agonizing pain.

This incident has consumed me.
Made me lose faith,
made me lose trust,
as I felt severely violated.
My body feels violated.
It doesn’t feel like my own.
 
He left me in the blues,
he left my body bruised,
& my soul wounded,
my mind hurts too.
So I need to ameliorate,
the memory of that day,
that he made me rue.
 
For what has happened has happened,
I've got to move on,
from this tormenting incident,
which most won’t understand.
Which most won’t believe.
& I know I’ll be blamed for it,
even though I am the victim here,
as victim blaming will never disappear.
 
I’ve been left with permanent scars
That cannot heal,
emotionally & physically,
but this is something with what I have to deal.
  
One thing that I’ve learned is that I need to be careful,
& I need to be aware,
to protect myself from all the cruelty out there.
 
As it is my fault not his.
But why am I getting accused?
Of this abuse,
even though I had already refused,
even though I had said no,
yet he never stopped.
& yet I was blamed,
for no mistake of my own.
 
So I guess that there is nothing that I can do,
& nothing that I can say.
But these new descended demons in my head,
need to be tamed.
Please tell me how you all feel about this poem, especially because I wrote upon a very sensitive topic and I am a new writer.
thank you
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