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madelinexxmolloy Mar 2017
Tens of millions of men, women and children murdered
But what do we care?
Genocide-systematically killing, ******, and harming
But what do we care?
We say "never again" that turned into "never again, again"
And twenty-thousand children born for one-hundred days of forced pleasure
Families ripped apart, homes destroyed, and ******-******
We say it but do we get it?
Do we really GET it?
Do we really grasp the fact of people's lives being ended forcefully for no other reason than someone "disagrees" for no other reason than someone's "different
But what do we care?
Blue eyes, blonde hair, bright skin to the right
Brown eyes, black hair, dark skin to the left
Those on the right go home,
Those on the left no longer have homes for concentration camps are now their homes
The sent of freshly brewed lipton tea has now been replaced by the harsh fumes of zyklon-B
Unsure of their next meal, if you could call it that at all, unsure of their next beating, the next time they'll be *****, unsure of what'll be theirs last breath before death
Feeling unsure and not secure
But please tell me, what do we care?
riwa Dec 2016
Don’t fall for me,
simply because
I will turn your kisses into similes
kissing you is like watching a sunset; slow, and beautiful.

Don’t tell me you love me,
simply because
your words will form metaphors in my mouth
you are a thunderstorm my heart is not ready for.

Don’t fall for me,
simply because
I am selfish,
every breath you take, every word you speak
I will find a way to turn that into a composition of letters and sounds
for my own purpose.


Don’t try to be with me,
simply because
I will try to trap you with my words
every space in my broken sentences will be filled with thoughts of you.

Stay with me,
I’ll turn your existence into a poem
stay with me,
I’ll engrave your name into my verses
stay with me,
stay with me,
stay with me,

so I don’t have to turn my heartache into a poem of sorrow once again.

I have not felt at ease with the world in a while,
but that has changed,
simply because
you are my world now
everything I do,
I do for you.


So this is a warning;
don’t fall for me,
simply because
I am a thief who is good with words,
*I will steal your love
and turn it into stories of malignancy and almosts.
12.10.17
Abby Carpenter Sep 2016
The first glass was smiles,
He’d tell us that he loved us
Or that we made him proud
Warm glow from the fire reflected the sloshing contents of his drink on the walls
A blurred dance of celestial lines and shapes.
We took in his light like the inhale of a breath,
Feeling so glad to have earned his praises.

Fifth glass was slurred words
Crawling from the corners of his mouth like a rat escaping a sewer,
The smiles were gone.
We stood still with anxious ticks unfolding before us
Afraid of what would happen if we were to speak
The fire was fading, the dance nearing an end

Glass eight brought anger
Shouts spiraled from his chest, a tornado that we couldn’t cross
Words flew by us,
Glasses flew by us,
Fists flew by us.
Too scared to move, our backs pressed against the wall
We tried our best to disappear
I closed my eyes and held my hands together hoping that the small amount of pressure would be enough to make him lay his hands on someone else that night

Twelfth glass brought sleep.
With his body still we could move again,
His neck crooked to the side, an empty glass in his hand.
No liquid left to reflect.
A sleeping serpent laying in the center of his destruction
Broken glasses and thrown picture frames at his feet,
It became hard to believe he had caused this a moment ago

Now seven years later I find myself at a party
The bass so loud I could feel my body shake,
Red cup in my hand, liquid sloshing with familiarity
Without a pause I am drinking one glass,
Then two,
Then three,
I wonder how I let myself become the thing I fear most like a reverse metamorphosis into my childhood,
And now when I look in the mirror I don’t see me,
I’m stuck looking into his lifeless eyes
And I don’t know how I can change this,
How can I run when the monster resides inside of me?
I don’t know how I can separate myself from him when every time I see a drink I hear my mother’s scream
Blurred images of memory and reality surround me and I am once again too afraid to move
Back pressed against the wall, hands pressed together.
I am my childhood nightmares,
Completing the cycle and making ends meet
Once again I am back in that trailer and I wonder if I ever left
Christina L May 2016
Be loud and be proud
be quiet and keep to yourself
be upfront and demanding
be reserved and stay together
be beautiful and pretty
be hot and ****
be dainty and quaint
and rock the **** world.

Be you.
Be whoever you are comfortable being.

Don't let them tell you to shut up
don't let them tell you to talk more
don't let them tell you you're a *****
or that you're too nice.
Don't let them tell you you can't be beautiful, pretty, hot and **** **** all at once
because you know what?
You are.
Don't let them tell you to be rougher
don't let them tell you to be ladylike.

You are mother-effing lady
and you get to decide what that means.
To anyone who is a girl - don't let them tell you you aren't because you don't meet some standard.
August Mar 2016
Cursin' like a sailor
It's okay, right, avail her
Commanding the ship so strongly
you thought you finally had it off me
bullets keep bouncing off me like a trampoline, except this one isn't so fun, you see?

As It hits a slow curve
you seemed to have the nerve
to throw your whole crew overboard
just to save yourself first
the empire state of the south
never got to the party
left with the crumbs in the corner
and your mouth, only clarty

with a quick tongue
and a sly smile
a small smirk
so easy to beguile

Razerblades and Punk madness
colored hair with your tears of passion
brainwashed and bleached
compelled by your freedom of speech
tears so frequent, indecent, and cement
you're looking for my impeachment, what's your reason?

Knuckles hurt from punching pillows
rusting walls and weeping willows
Wanted so badly to be broken
so you tore out stitches

called me coward
but i'm not the one cranking out
poems that have been soured

I live to empower.
His eyes were not the reminder of a once well known friend they were the reminder that I only got three hours of sleep last night and there's a test on something I couldn't wrap my brain around because I was too busy searching how to tie a noose on a screen to bright for my tired eyes. I never knew he'd show up unexpectedly at dinner and I could almost see my mothers nose crinkle in disgust either from the stench of my lack of motivation or simply the smell of death. He had this way of holding himself. Hands shaking like a ticking time bomb or way to ready to jump to the next thing to ease the situation.
To ease the situation.
Ease the situation.
The smile carved as big as the jokers planted on a pale face and sunken eyes.
he had bags under his eyes.
bags under his eyes
Under his eyes.
Grimacing under growing bruises and bones that creaked with every movement because he is like an old house. Fun to look at and imagine what it was like in its glory days but spiderwebs and dust seem to be a better turn off than the word no.
No one told them that depression is a battle ground that theyd have to pick up their long lost child from.
I'm suppose to be mad at you. I am furious with you. I'm angry that every time I try to remember the good all i do is remember the bad. When I look in the mirror all I see is you standing behind me and its becoming a trip like I took acid but ive never even touched the **** things..

You have become the punchline to every joke my parents don't refrain from telling. The punchline has them in fits of laughter and I don't think they saw how it was like I was sucker punched in the gut with the breath knocked right out of me

It took me six months to realize you were no good for me, but the damage had already set in like the death from a funeral that was never held for who i was.
I bet you don't even realize that, and I'm not saying I'm in love with you anymore I'm just saying if you were here in front of me I don't know if i'd fall to the ground and hope to god I don't show you how badly I cant get over what you did. Or if id simply ask you for a hug because after all in this morbid way I'm still in love with you. Its too cliche to say I gave you pieces of me that I ache to gain back. You see I never told anyone
..and maybe thats my issue.
I am a walking contradiction as I tell others to be strong and to not go back but I….If I was drunk and you somehow appeared like every memory somehow shows up like that unwanted pregnancy you thought I had. I don't know if id fall right into your arms to beg for the old us back.

Rug burns and bruises, I learned no was not a standing ovation for my security as a person but an invite for the pressure of an unclean carpet to be dragged across my body. I can still feel the digging of your jeans in my back. Its like you never really left.

This town has so many painful memories that I think it's time to get the uhaul take all the memories, take the pain and ill go somewhere I cant see you everywhere I turn. No amount of therapy can ever make me function like an actual human being.


Do you not understand that now every time the hurt comes back I have to apologize to her because I can't explain that what you did, what you continuously do is something more than words explain. That maybe she fell i love with someone who is unfixable.

The bruises are gone but the memories remain.
Dear god of uncertainty,
It was 7:30 p.m. on january fifth when she got the call that said she needed to come in for some more tests to see if the results were true. Her hands trembled as I watched her blink back tears because no one wants to be told their very own woven cells are killing them. That the body that has become this strong tower is finally leaning about to completely tip to become nothing but a pebble in the lives of so few. Two weeks ago, I thought for sure I hated her said if she died that I wouldnt care but now I'm the one begging for the results to say those lesions that have been attached to her like a leech are not cancerous..
Dear god of uncertainty, minutes feel like hours and days feel like years, and I don't think I want to spend these days counting time because eventually it will slip like the sand from the hourglass flowing through my fingers and making its trail upon chemo treatmenTs and big worded surgeries. the whispers are getting louder the louder they get the more frightened I am that her body will slowly shrink. As if when I blink she will disappear into thin air engulfed by the thing that may in fact be killing her.  Being female your suppose to have working body parts, like ovaries, or ****** but hers is broken. And Ive watched him try to carry the weight of that burden but now its spread to his bones and its like a horror scene but yet no blood is smeared everywhere just dried tears and empty "this is all just a big misunderstanding" as if the doctors read the numbers backwards or the symbols weren't in order. I mean they could have put on the wrong prescription glasses right? I watch her to see if her poker face will break to show that I'm not the only one pulling handfuls of hair out.
Dear god of doctor bills, the wheels are turning inside mixing concoctions of thought processes together to figure out how we will pay for these ******* doctor bills that begin to pile and dig us a grave in this camping trailer we live in. they send mounds of prayers up to someone they hope is listening. Someone they hope isn't punishing them for every sin not washed clean. I cant help but wonder If I started to pray to this god they all believe in. The god of life itself that maybe, we could all let out a sigh... and pretend death isn't a possability. That its not this looming threat. Waiting to claim its victim's.....but dear god of uncertainty, you only **** in sets of two right?
So....uh...well my mom might have cancer and my dad might have a tumor
Here i am laying roses at your funeral because i, i am the one that killed you. It was my gun that was pressed against your temple i counted to ten but you see it wasnt any ordinary gun....it was my lips gently pressed against yours that slowly killed you. I was slowly poisoning your body with every lip lock and hand hold.... i could see that it killed you inside to be with me, so to get rid of us you pulled the trigger and overdosed on poison. The doctors said it wasnt the medication that took your life but it was every i love you hushed into existence avoided by your parents and i dont even know why i tried because. ..itll never be the same when i look you in the eyes, when i write lullabys with your eye sockets. Day dreams with your hair folicles and forevers with your angelic smile. Im laying roses on your gravesite because i know they werent your favorite.
Dear grandma, the doctors said I was born a girl why don't I feel like a girl? If I rip open my chest will the answers come pouring out for you
Dear grandma, you told me to take off the dress up I've been wearing these past few months so you could be happy with me accepting the body I was given but I have yet to be that butterfly that hatches out of the cocoon this body has been. Dear grandma you told me God and Satan are in a war and I am the prize they win for whoever is the champion.  you told me this is just an act and I need to quit it I may be a theater kid but I'm not this good at make believe. I am not after all this witch you think I am, or rather warlock if you will. Dear grandma if I starve myself enough will that reset my body into thinking of myself in female perspective
Dear grandma, do you know I live in fear everyday not just for my life but I fear even saying the wrong words to make you explode like the bomb that took the twin towers out….  so i've learned to live in silence.
Dear grandma,  start planning her funeral she's no longer with us and her presence  has long been forgotten by most her  name  no longer exist, my tongue stopped forming that name as soon as i grew up. I've been trying to tell you this all along but I just barely got the courage to let you know so lets light her memories up in flames and with the ashes make my new identity a reality because right now it feels like I'm living in fantasy. Dear grandma, I know you are old school and you don't understand how this works, I will teach you. My pronouns are male so refer to me as him, or he. tory has never quite fit so let's scrawl that on the tombstone you can cry and throw the roses but grandma this is me. I know you raised me for most of my life and you feel as if I'm betraying your trust by being True to myself but grandma wearing cologne is not gross and I'm tired of biting my tongue when you put your two cents in. you said every time I act like someone I'm not the devil wins, so with every inch  the blade dug itself into upon my wretched skin I was just trying to find the loophole out of this. Grandma I don't let my poetry get too deep it's always skin deep because if I let it go any further it everyone will see the body dysphoria. They say that the eyes Are windows to the soul grandma but why does it feel like mines shattered from all those religious talks you keep stacking on me. Dear grandma, this Christmas I just want you to spell my name right. Dear grandma, today's Christmas and I just want acceptance.dear Grandma stop throwing the ******* pebbles at me they have turned into the boulders dragging me down to the bottom of the ocean that I use to think was your love.  Dear grandma, I'm begging you all to love me and to stay but it's so hard when you keep pulling away, you cut the ties from the rubber bands so you wouldn't bounce back to me because loving me is a job you were never hired to do. Because loving me was never taught in your high school classes. Because calling me part of your family was something Jesus told you not to do. So dear grandma, who's gonna love me when you all walk out like a homeless person from a soup kitchen. Dear judy, I guess I should use your name now because you can't seem to be a grandma. Dear judy, it feels like pins and needles are crawling through every orifice of my body when you tell me that I can't be who I'm meant to be. Dear judy, My names jaxton, and I understand if you never want to talk to me but I guess that's the price I will pay for being the pill you just can't swallow. So dear grandma, I'm sorry god told you to stop loving the demon that I am.
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