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Lux Mar 6
I will be back.
She spoke.

Where have you been?
Where did you go?
I wonder.

Mommy, where is my sister?
Daddy, when is she coming back home?
I asked.

Do you know my sister?
She has a name.
I can’t remember it!

What does she look like?
The officers asked.

I’m sorry
I can’t remember
her pretty face.

But she’s kind and sweet— the
best sister on earth!

She said she went to work.
But she never comes back home.

Can I stay with you? I’m scared
you going to leave me
Like she did.

Hey! Sister!
You said you went to work!
Why did it take you so long?

Why is your pulse not beating anymore?
Why your skin looks pale?

Why are you laying there
In that scary chamber?
Lux Mar 6
I am a stray dog.
I am little and hungry.
I am little and angry at the world.
I am scared and fragile.
Where did my mother go?

Mother, I am hungry.
Mother, I am scared.
Mother, I am cold.
Mother, where did you go?

Mother, have you abandoned me?
Mother, please help me.
Mother, please come back.

Mother, I am hungry.
Mother, I am scared.
Mother, I am cold.

Mother, they're chasing me.
Mother, they're hitting me.
Mother, mother, mother.

I am hurt. I am scared. I am fragile.

Oh, mother, to be loved, to be seen, to be heard, to be
treated the way I deserved.

Oh, mother, they give me food!
Oh, mother, I am full for the first time in my life!

Oh, mother, why is my belly hurting?
Oh, mother, why is my lung fuming?
Oh, mother, why is my breath waving?
Oh, mother, why I cannot see anymore?

Oh, mother, the same hands that pet me are hitting me.
Oh, mother, the hands that I thought gave me food took
my soul away.

Oh, mother, what did I do to deserve all of this?

I just existed.
Lux Mar 6
I am twenty-three.
But I feel like my life stopped when I was seventeen.
Or even worse when I was much younger.

The people who hurt me
Seem to forget what they had done.

While I am staying there.
At that moment.
For a long, long time.

And maybe
I will never leave at all.

Is it my fault?
Do you think it was my fault too?
Do you think I am the one to blame?
For everything that happened to me?

Is it the consequence
Of the recklessness.
Or there is no one else to blame?

So, you blamed me.

But I was a child.
How could you?
How dare you?
Did that to me?

People were cruel and
No one was there to save me,
Cared for me,
Or loved me.

Seventeen feels like yesterday.
It was the hardest time in my life.
The time that I thought that
End up in Acheron.
End up in the river of the woe.
Is greater than living.

I will not say that time will heal
All your wounds and traumas.

But some day,
You are going to live with it
Eventually.

With a calming heart and gentle soul.
That was breaking beyond repair.

Or with the rage that you never show.
Or the wrong they did that you will never
Forgive.

Life is just the way it is.
You cannot change what is done.
You cannot change how people treated you.
You cannot change how you felt.
Neither do I.

Aren’t we the strongest in
Our family.

My sweet little girl.
Who has been lonely
For her whole life.

You are not what they say.
You are not how people treat you.
You were a child.

Happy Birthday to us,
My beloved friend.
Mrs Timetable Oct 2022
I can see the
Unfinished man
In pencil
That drawing that's missing
something  
The outline of you
The curves of you forming
But still not whole
Still seeing who you might be
What moves you make
I can even see where
You have been erased
Mistakes have been drawn over
Paper is worn a little
Even torn
But
I'll be patient
I'll wait
For you to fill in
Get your lines straight
For you to be complete

And
Drawn in ink
Inspired by my nieces incomplete anatomy drawings in pencil
Harley Hucof Jul 2020
It is from your synthetic relations that i learn
what to make of, and how to observe
the traumas that once occured.

Transformed,
Translated into words
To lighten up the burden
Of the destiny flowing in my nerves.

Chosen for me or impregnated
The path is created
Before the men that walks it to get mutated
Together in your synthetic relashionships.


Words Of Harfouchism
Aliens are the new religion
Grey Apr 2020
All I wanted was to talk:
to have another acknowledge these events
That tore my life to shreds.

When I did speak,
It was instantly flipped or ignored.
So I said enough, I'm not doing this anymore.

I will not give to those who only take
Or to hear my stories so they can create
A reality which would leave me
The center of their entertainment.

I am not a joke,
Nor is my life at any rate,
A show.

I admit I was clingy, I admit I lost connections
I thought were worthy of pursuing
Because I needed support early in the friendship.

They didn't know
I was in anguish
Or perhaps they didn't care.
Either way,
I was left standing there.

My screams were muted,
My statements unheard.
The help I needed
Was blatantly ignored

I'm now silent
To prevent these losses
Because apparently people
Don't know how to handle these problems
why is it important for authors to recount past traumas in their work?
what do you do
when all your bad memories seem to lurk
in your mind, resurfacing,
causing you to relive the past that only seems to give
you negativity, no tranquility?

dont let your traumas fester
manifest into some kind of monster
one that you cant tame yourself
we had to write a speech about why its important for authors to write about traumas so i made a lil poem for it!

— The End —