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A Simillacrum Mar 2019
What do I have to do
to get through to you:
I do what I must to survive.
Send thanks to any god
you dream and believe:
Shame is sitting still, smoking ****.

Do I
just get by?
According
to the
world
at large, oh
yes, oh yes.

Do I
just get by?
According
to me,
the
world's gonna
end, oh yes.

If you want to waste your mind on me,
that's fine --
I'll be using mine for feeling,
and I'll be full to satisfied.

What do I have to do
to get through to you:
I do what I must to survive.
Send thanks to any god
you dream and believe:
Shame is sitting still, smoking ****.

Scanning
racks and shelves
for any
piece of
me
in what you
have here made.

Scanning
racks and shelves
for any
precious
piece
of yours
to ruin   with my appreciation.

If you want to waste your mind on me,
that's fine --
I'll be using mine for feeling,
and I'll be full to satisfied.

Start the day
the only way
that works for me.
Lighter, light ****.
Massage ball, get my shoulder free.
Lungs, please, do continue.
Carry me through dance.
Tighten the strings
of the universe
through me,
from my feet to my hands.
Emma Mar 2019
I am always asked
"Why have you changed yourself?",
To which my reply must always be
"Which part of myself do you mean?"

"Do you mean my appearance,
Which I have complemented with metal and ink?
I did that to feel whole again,
To make my body my own."

"Or do you mean my humour,
Once light and happy, turned dark and damaging?
I did that to protect myself. If I am dark
Then you shall never know how I truly feel."

"Or perhaps you mean my being, once loving and trusting,
Turned cold and evermore hostile.
Do you believe, after everything I have endured,
I would allow myself to trust another again?"

"I have changed myself to reflect the environment around me.
I have changed to survive in a world
Of traitors and abusers,
Much like those boys were for me."

So when you ask me
"Why have you changed?",
Do not be scared of the answers which you may receive.
They will now forever be me.
uselace Mar 2019
i am not strong.
when people see my scars,
they think
that i crawled out of hell
even when demons
were dragging me down.
i barely made it out, though,
and those demons are still with me.
they are still present
in the scars on my thighs,
the pills that i take,
the nights i can't sleep
and nothing feels right
because,
really,
that hell was inside my head
and the demons
were my own thoughts,
ripping
and tearing
and pulling away at my sanity,
bit
by bit.
i am not strong,
but i'm strong enough
to keep fighting those demons,
every
single
day.
AuEcologica Mar 2019
Safe and sound, boundless and ageless
Locked up in a cage, shackled and ageless.

Nit-picky fury, is the lash someone else’s or your own?

Words with no meaning, no colour, no sound
Words in a bottle in the ocean in the hope of being found.

It’s just life, those things we say and do to survive
To manage
To Cry
It’s just life, the catastrophe, the identity, to survive
To Crave
To desire.

In consequence, how the story eventually ends
Long may the road be, savouring each detail along the edges.

Eager to please, you do as you prefer—as you wish.

Maddening is the cruelty, how a warrior should lack frailty
As if the Greek gods did not provide mistakes of their own.

It’s just life, those things we say and do to survive
To manage
To Cry
It’s just life, the catastrophe, the identity, to survive
To Crave
To desire.

It’s just life, those things we say and do to survive
To manage
To Cry
It’s just life, the catastrophe, the identity, to survive
To Crave
To desire.

You’ll manage though you’ll cry
You’ll crave love, you’ll desire.
Kris Fireheart Mar 2019
You can take me
From my home,
You can shred
My dignity,
You can leave me,
All alone,
Once you've had
Your fill of me.

You can shatter
All my hopes,
Spread your lies
Upon my dreams,
But deep inside,
I keep my soul,

And you can't have
That part of me.
No,
You can't have
That part of me...
This poem is dedicated to all survivors of abusive relationships. No matter how bad the struggle may be, just remember, you can't have that part of me.
Mohannie Mar 2019

I remember the day when my life had fallen apart

June 2nd, 2016

This was when everything for me changed

I thought there was nothing left

And had finally hit rock bottom...

But what can one do in such a horrific time

But get up and try to live again?

You've got this.
Nomkhumbulwa Mar 2019
He lives just round the corner,
A little boy of only 4 years old;
Born so long before his time,
He is not a typical 4 year old.

He has already survived so much,
Just in this very short time;
Conquered everything he has faced,
Time and time again.

He is kind of a miracle,
Or at least I think he is,
For in his earliest days
Only his mummy truly knew he would live.

I changed my last verse
As I failed to give him credit,
Nobody knew if he would pull through,
But I believe his mummy knew he would make it.

She too is a miracle,
A pillar of never ending strength,
She deserves a poem of her own,
To make it all make sense.

But I chose to write about Callum,
As he is a very special little boy;
After all that he has been through,
He has brought with him so much joy.

He's had tubes up his nose,
Things pumped into his belly,
But taken it all in his stride,
Eyes glued to the telly.

He may be a little behind,
In terms of speech and development,
But he certainly makes up for that
In terms of enjoyment.

He battled to enter this world,
And so rightly so;
Callum firmly belongs here
Anyone who knows him would say so.

His speech has come on leaps and bounds,
Just in these recent months,
So nice to hear him talking,
Talking and able to make sense.

He does have his melt downs,
Not able to get his point across,
But all to be expected,
We line up cars and let it pass.

What I really wanted to write about
Is what he has done for me;
This little boy with all his problems
Has had such an impact on me.

I do not think about what he cannot do,
What he can say, whether he can tie his shoe,
I simply appreciate the way he is,
And focus on what he can do.

In my struggles in my strange world,
Callum is an absolute delight,
I know his mummy sees more of the other side,
I've only been there for short periods of day or night.

For anyone with anxiety
Callum is highly medicinal;
One of the many reasons I believe
That he is a medical miracle.

I maybe shaking before hand
But after spending time with Callum,
I leave calm and relaxed,
As well as having had so much fun.

With his cheeky little smile,
And a head once full of many curls,
His little eyes would melt anyones heart
They light up the room, as he pulls it apart.

He's now a tough little cookie,
He's shown that many a time;
Whether its suffering cold after cold,
Or outside barefeet on the stones!

He knows how to get up to mischief,
We play the light switch game a lot;
He knows what he wants from the kitchen,
He will take you by the hand and tell you whats what!

To me Callum has a bright future,
Regardless of being a little behind;
There is so much more to life,
Than just doing things at the right time.

To me its a "symbiosis",
In Biological terms,
I look after him,
But he helps me too, in return.

I dont know what he will be when he's older,
But I do know he's already a therapist!
"Callum sitting on prescription"
Should be a common request!

I could write so much more about Callum,
But my brain right now is in a mess,
Although when I see him again,
I'm sure he'll re-wire it, and put it to the test!

He is a special little boy,
With a bright shining light;
A bright shining flashing light in fact -
We all know how much he loves lights!

One day he may be embarrassed,
When mummy reads him this rhyme;
When he's old enough to understand,
And to reflect on these lines.

But Callum, all I can say is Thank you -
For brightening all our lives;
Thank you so much Callum-
You help me to survive :)

....lots of love...Aunty Emma :) ***
I wrote this a while back, for my neighbour.  But I didnt want to share it until I had given it to her.
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