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abi hayes Jul 2021
Mother knows best,

but I've put
this ink
on my skin as
a reminder
that I am
not the
child who
died in that
House.
I was forced
to build a
place where
I belong,
and now that
I've Finally
created a place...

you want me back.

But I am
not the
child who
died in that
house.
I am a
woman
now,

Mother.
Maria Etre Sep 2020
I played with all the tenses
but that also never changed what
was
is
could have been
or
will be
Ash C Apr 2020
Why
Sometimes I can't pick apart why
Why I choke on the bitterness of my own hurtful words
I want not to see you, but I can't imagine life without you
Why when you enter, my being goes rigid
Like a wooden board that won't snap, but will hurt when tempted
Both you and the board
Tony Tweedy Apr 2020
The air lays still and lifeless giving no leaf a need to care,
No sound of passing traffic or kids laughter in the air.
Everywhere seems silent as if the world has lost its voice,
Even birds seem silent, bereft of song as if without a choice.

So eerie and pervasive is the silence right there outside my door,
Shouting aloud in its hush change to all things that went before.
Long periods of empty air, devoid of usual sounds I once ignored.
Leaving silence etched in mind where fear has seared and scored.
It says all I need it to.
Daniel Magner Jan 2020
It moves things,
pulls them back
with only the slightest change.
All it takes, "is" to "was",
to curve the timeline,
subtly, but definitively,
turning great things,
great people,
to memories.
Daniel Magner 2020
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