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In Sijekovac once stood a Serbian child
in a field of wheat and dirt
not far from the remnants of his home.
With him was another the next day,
and four more the next,
each of whom were brown and grey
from living in such fields.
By the week's end stood
eighteen Serbian children scattered
across the field of wheat and dirt
and soccer ***** and shoes
and shotgun shells
and crimson pools
and a father and his wife
heading to the next nearest village
for more.
You may have damaged my soul
But you don't get to steal my art

It's like I've been trapped in a sea of snow
Frozen into nothingness
Numb to feelings and new experiences
Unable to process anything
As my energy slowly depletes
Leaving me feeling less and less alive.

I have just recently learned how
To elbow out some room to breathe
Some room for me
Just enough to give me hope
Just enough movement
To break cracks into the ceiling.

Hairline fractures barely let in the light
But it's enough to feel a sense of warmth
A fire ignited in my stiff bones
My frozen limbs and organs
Slowly beginning to thaw.

It's hard to know what to do with it
This anger that's much more
Than the nothingness that came before it
I've learned that I have to pace myself
Too much and I'll burn myself
Not enough and I freeze again.

But I am angry.
I'm angry at you
And I'm angry at me.
I just want to be free
From this cell of ice that you built for me.
The one I helped maintain
Because you had your nails dug so deep within me
That I cut myself when you left
To mimic that torment
To attempt to function
Through the withdrawal.

The pain you inflicted fueled me
Made me feel alive
And hurting myself couldn't even compare
Because it wasn't enough.
It wasn't you.
It wasn't us.

I was addicted to your energy
To the power you held over me
To that chaos that mimicked my past
So much so
It felt like home.

And that's where I struggle most
Because history repeats itself
And I should've known
That there was never safety in that home
Just emptiness and loneliness
Anxiety and pain
The need to lie to everyone
To ****** or suffocate pieces of myself
So that I could survive
To be whoever anyone needed me to be

Because I didn't matter
I didn't even exist
So why am I surprised to feel that way again?

Although I've survived this **** before
Now my survival skills are
What keep me frozen in place
And learning to love yourself
Feels way more painful
Than learning to hate.
Patrick 1d
There is a sound that many of us hear throughout our lives. It’s a keening, a high-pitched call, the rumble of our names on the lips of monsters and hellions. They cry out from the pit, screaming for your blood, for the things that makes you whole and sane.

They grapple amongst themselves, luring us closer the outs edge with lies and deception and cunning.

They terrify us, because we know not from where they come and why they crave our blood.

But then, someone, some words, some situation, or some revelation comes along and carries you to the Pit’s edge and shines a light down on the things that cry out your name in the night.

And as you peer down, you see the monstrosities that pine for your life and a horrible realization strikes. Underneath the claws, the serrated fangs, and the leathery wings, the monsters all wear the same face as you, as dark and grotesque as they are.

One is called destitution, one called pain, and another called self-loathing. All familiar faces after all. Faces you thought you would never have to see because you buried them in a pit and covered them over with bad habits and denial. You scream, YOU CAN’T HAVE ME, yet they continue to wail until the syllables of your name sound like a horrendous thing.
J J 1d
Prickly morning sun strings up
      the hair on her arms as she gazes,
watching the waves bobble and weave and listening
to their dead seashells and shellfish;
       ricketing and momentarily floating.

For a moment, her heart is the ocean.
  Always beating and providing life without
knowing why. She sighs and begins to forget she is lost--
The synthetic shores of everyday life at her backfoot,
   the burning sand ridden with childhood memories.
She slowly allows it to dissapear
and recaptures a piece of her self
                                                            ­  in return;

Belonging to this ocean as much she does the sky it reflects.

Calling, lamenting her name without a word, the ocean
     lullabies her soothing sighs, falling rythmatically now--
Raindrops disinter the clouds and tickle the rythm
     of her pulse. Soft, soft backing instrument to her final
            calling. There is no need to look around again;
There is no guard in sight. The prickly sunshine fades
  To ruthless cold air and she walks forward, mouth agape
        and ready

For the ocean to swallow her and recapture her, entombed,
     enwombed forever more.
You liar
You **** of the earth
Trying to get in my room
You disgusting excuse
For a piece of flesh
You user
You narcissist
Took without thinking
Without care
You robbed me
Of my childhood
Of my innocence
And let me
Blame myself
For all of it.
Spooky Babe Oct 9
It all began in dance class
When I first felt small
Standing in the back of the lines
Where no one could see me at all

Fast forward to middle school
Where the girls who looked like me
Were never the topic of conversation
Like I always dreamt to be

Even when highschool rolled around
It was still never about me
Always some other fair skinned beaut
Who i’d constantly compared to thee

And when I finally did steal a heart
Guess how it began and ended?
Another girl came into the picture
Which whom I had to contend with

My history of love & relationships
Definitely isn’t one for the books
Just painful memories I try to wash away
Because I never had “the look”

That’s the reason I’m always triggered
Because all my life I’ve had to compete
I just want someone to look at me and think
“**** my life is finally complete.”
October 8 2019. 10:26pm. Here we go again **
Elemenohp Oct 9
A shadow drapes itself across my naked body,
Weightless.. yet, heavy.
The shilouetted form cuts itself a share of my light.
Leaving behind a darkness.

Empty space.

Peering eyes, unseen.
I wish this were a dream.
Another sleepless night
What did she have that I’m missing? What did you have then vs. now that changes things? It’s hard to feel like it’s not me. I’m sorry. I’m sure I’m adding to your stress and I’m sure I’m not helping but I just want you to see what this seems like to me, especially considering my history— nobody has ever been sure of me, really.
I get that it’s not me, now. thanks for explaining.
Get out
Go away,
I've been working hard
For too many days.

Can't think
Won't sleep,
Not with you there
Herding all my sheep.

Get out
Go away,
My head's so full
And heavy with clay.

Can't think
Won't sleep,
Afraid of monsters
That are sure to creep.

Get out
Go away,
I never said
That you could stay.

Can't think
Won't sleep,
Could end it all
With just... one... leap...
(c) Alliso Wonder
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