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Isabella Aug 15
They told me to pick up the knife
That with it I’d be able to cut the rope holding my throat to the ceiling
And break the chains keeping me to the ground
So I wrapped my fingers around the cold metal
Adrenaline as hot as fire pulsing in my veins
I didn’t let go
And I didn’t free myself
Instead I brought the silver blade to my heart
Carving the words I wanted to be engrained in me forever
scars heal until i cut myself again
My eyes slyly asked yours for a breeze
But your lips quickly gifted a tornado.
Uprooted, with you  I flew across like a bird,
To an island where your sharpend  nails,
Etched murals on love going sweetly violent,
On every inch, making the pain pleasurable,
All over the canvas of my down turned body.
LC Aug 2
whenever I stumbled and fell,
instead of helping me up,
they pushed and berated me,
knocking me down even further.
safety was never a guarantee.
I take each step carefully - too carefully.
wondering who can see my trembling hands
and feel my heart pounding in my chest.

now when I stumble and fall,
I push the helping hands away,
even though I want to feel
a hand in mine
more than anything.
I've come to expect sharp,
grating words from everyone,
even though not everyone is like them.

I pick myself up and hide
waiting until the storm settles.
sometimes when it all dies down,
I'm still not convinced that it's over.
I step out of my hiding place
and wait for the thunder.
I jump at every noise,
and I wince at every touch.

I want to have spaces in which
my body can relax instead of
looking for the next threat.
in which my hands are steady,
my heart takes a leisurely stroll,
and I don't have to hide.
in which I can tell myself,
"I am safe," and fully believe it.
It's not easy to live with the effects of emotional abuse, but I am healing. I'm hopeful for the future.
isabella Jul 21
You would think that a broken heart could be mended,
All broken things can.
Or, you would think that it would break further,
Like a shattered mirror.

My heart didn't do either,
it turned hard,
and heavy,
and now my heart is a stone.

When I try to feel, my heart is unyielding,
It was once human but now isn't.
Not mended, but not broken, just
Dead.

Dead, like the way I feel
every night,
my heart filled with dread.

Dead, like when,
sometimes,
when I'm all alone,
I will peek inside,
allow it to soften a moment.

And then, once the pain and years of being unwanted,
a troublemaker,
a pest,
an outcast,
come flooding back to me,
wave after wave of sorrow floods me,
and I have no choice but to
push the feelings deep inside
where no one will find them.

I can't bear the pain,
sorrow,
loss,
that fills my heart
and makes it hard,
a sharp, heavy stone.
Bhill Jun 4
dressed in a sharp way
needing to be understood
making memories

Brian Hill - 2020 # 152
Be sharp, stay sharp.
rgz Apr 9
A view obscured in clarity
Overlooked in surety
Determined by a nation
Inclined
inspired by Mrs Timetable's gem, "Crystal clear"
i feel so large
in a room of small things
the walls are all white
but somehow i'm abstract art
a sculpture with no visible meaning
sharp edges, dangerous to touch
i don't quite fit in with everything else
the white room
the white walls
Mark Toney Mar 23
Mom’s words cut like a knife, honed razor sharp
Which saddened my new wife
Mom now, after years of strife
Says I married up in life!


© 2020 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
2/17/2020 - Poetry form: Englyn - ENGLYN is a quatrain from Welsh poetry of 30 syllables in four lines 10,6,7,7. The sixth syllable of line one announces the rhyme, the last syllable of the succeeding three lines rhyme with it. (The final syllable of line one is without rhyme). The content often has an enigmatic quality. - © 2020 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
Kit Scott Mar 17
who
questions blur across my eyes i want to know the answers all the answers who am i who are you where are we and why this stained world like a thousand cathedral windows shattered all strewn glass and holiness you bless my brow like a benediction but where

where am i
twisting like an animal something rising writhing in my gut this fizzing popping burning something red hot veins how do i use this what do i do with it here in a void of you and me and i am so so tired of blaming myself if you wanted something soft then you should've kept me precious but you

                like throwing stones at windows for fun all cruel stupid children and you never grew up i know that now

fractures of me sharp im back again here we are and i learnt to use them do you see all my sharp bits am i a beast yet am i disgusting to you come on try it i want to watch you fail because i am now faster and sharper you are big but you are not infallible i have learnt i am not afraid anymore you made me this so c'mon

                                                          ­               come get me, *******
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