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Diksha Prashar May 2020
I wrote about
Not following your
Past mistakes,

But, what about
The girls or boys
Getting *****,

Losing innocence
As such young age,
Not even
What they lost?

Gained horrors
For a life range
As toys for
A meaningless

Monster intoxicated
With lust
Roaming these streets,
That’s the real issue
No my clothes
You pin,

What a bad joke
Life is?
Instead being
We being stripped
From our
Gray Dawson Feb 2020
Strip me bare of my insecurities
Lay a breath of cold air upon the chest I hide from all
Stripped of my shield
I sit vulnerable and scared
The galaxies and black holes,
That makes up my mind,
Widen with each word

Hopeful feelings lay in spots on my stomach and arms
Spots that have healed
But not left me
Dreams of acceptance and confidence
Have since become the shattered pieces of my bathroom mirror
The same mirror that makes me remember
All the ways my identity is fractured

Like the black holes in my eyes
There is a mystery to me
I believe that I am bad
I believe that who I am is disastrous to those around me
Yet what is an identity without such beliefs
Perhaps a good one

Colorful feelings, followed by dark and grey
That’s what you see when you strip everything away
Bones cracking from the pressure of being so conflicted
Signs of ripping as the heart tries to follow what it desires
The head, bleeding, as the pain of resisting grows

Cannot be me,
Give me back my insecurities
Give me back the bindings
Give me back my shield
Give me back my dark feelings and let me bleed
I can hold up fine
It is only my identity I am hiding
But we all know this is just a lie
Poetic T Dec 2019
It was void less on the dead tree branch,
or what was once something reaching
for the heavens but now it is rootless.

Digging into the earth, like a tombstone
of remembrance entwined in razor wire
                                                            ­   woes.

It was cur once, now it is cut upon even in
death, every breath of life the world temps
                           it with just cuts deeper.

And the onyx crow, just perches on it.
             silent, it just gazes at the others
neatly put into shallow graves of despair.

They are naked for all to see, for all to gaze upon.
     stripped of decency. Shallow graves tease as though
they wish to flourish, roots are dismembered.

But where the branch fell, where the dismembered
remanence ****** of self horizontal.
           When a tree falls no one hears it...

When the now guillotined life falls,
        it fell upon its executioner..
   In the woods now one hears you fall..

They bleed into the wood, the egg that hadn't
hatched now cracked open, a chick will no longer
             fly high but sit on this deathly stripped void.

Every now and then, when I look out my window,
         I see the field, and a crow with gapping vision.
And a silhouette of someone....

There neck arched and a smile crocked,
                 as if to say this is a coffin above ground..
And there slowly rotting in the earth that took
                                       them all...

When a tree falls, when the leaves are stripped bare,
             only the bones show, and it like those before
are just images of what fell when they decendedly silenlty.
blackbiird Jun 2019
You've stripped me bare ,
exposed my weaknesses,
and torn my mask.
now all i can do
is bow down in humility
because You've positioned
me at the Cherith brook
to speak to me.

i've never been more grateful
to be bare with You.
I'm at a session in my life where God has led me alone to the brook where he wants to speak to me and restore all the broken things and use them for his glory. I am learning to be content as I grow closer to the Lord. I wrote this poem to express my gratitude to God for saving me and bringing me back to life piece by piece. I hope this encourages those that are hurting.
What has happened to this beautiful home
Broken down and stripped to the bone
Ron Gavalik Jan 2019
A dead Christmas tree
was set out with a neighbor's trash.
It lay sideways, stripped
of half its needles.
A brown cat sniffed
one of its branches,
but then sauntered away.
All relationships eventually
lose their charm.

-Ron Gavalik
Ruth Jul 2018
I feel like I’m losing a friend,
It started off slow,
Faded like your favorite t-shirt,
After one too many wash cycles.

Like the stretch of an overused rubber band,
Losing its resilience,
It’s snap,
It’s ability to bounce back.

Sometimes I feel like I’m the t shirt,
Going through the same cycle,
Over and over,
And expecting different results.

Like the shirt’s need to be clean,
Is my need for validation,
To not hurt your feelings,
To make me feel better about myself.

But I no longer care,
How you feel,
What you do,
Or who you do it with.

I made it through one last wash cycle,
One more strip of my colors,
My identity,
But somehow I came out brighter than ever.
sofia l Mar 2018
Next time you talk to me
Take a second glance
Dig a little deeper
Don’t just graze over my features
And conform to the other superficials
Look me in the eyes
Peer into my soul
What you find won't be a surprise
Your eyes will fall upon the many fragments that comprise of me
The many fragments that I have stolen from others
Pieces of personalities that I have adopted as my own
For I have stripped myself of my individuality
And to most that is a incomprehensible thought
Why would one do such a horrible thing to themselves?
Why would one take the time to deconstruct themself
Pick apart every piece of their being
And will every part of them to be something they’re not?
Why darling, I’ve done it for you
Poetic T Feb 2018
When the walls falter,
crumbling within
                  realities windows,
                                  shattered inwards
by the tears that are dwindling emotions.

There is no place to smuggle,
        to hide within hollow walls.
Because when everything falls
                               were all exposed.
And everything is but a shell revelled.
Monotone Dec 2017
Words are twisted,
screamed, and mutilated.
Fists are flying,
bloodied, and disastrous.
Children are listening,
watching, and learning.

I have to step away,
Why help your children's brains decay?
Why let them listen to your arguing?
Why let their personalities begin melting?

Why would you help them conform to society?
Why help strip away their confidence?
Why help them learn to follow in your putrid ways?
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