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When dealing with feral animals
It is important to note
Strays are far different
Take a feral cat, for example;
Their trust is almost impossible
To gain
Strays were once pets
Doted on
Yet lost or abandoned
Individuals advise you set
A Trap
For Untamed animals
Pay special attention to
Behaviors and Appearances
But refuse to release them, misunderstood
Not acknowledging the dangers
Cowering in blood stained bathrooms
Dust collecting for a moment
Only to cloud the air
Once the door
And the Body
Are broken down
Loud noises,
The raising of voices
May cause the animal
To further isolate itself
Leading to comments that belittle
Wishing Death
Upon Innocence
Another hole in the drywall
Stupidity, ignorance
Not capable of existing
"As you should,"
"Failing" at understanding
Your place as a timid feline
In a man's home

The trouble with certain
Humans is
They're far more animalistic
At their cores.
Kellin May 7
Like a lion getting ready to  devour its last meal your eyes graze my skin like sand paper. Like we were some sick science experiment. Palms twitching, hungry eyes, ****** smile. A priviledge you said. Love did always make me ****** and alas, she still was under the delusion she loved you more. So with your yellow eyes and teeth just as so you raught your way into yielding flesh because no wasn't in your vocabulary. So how dare you think that you can fall asleep with that smirk as you extrude me from her so you can take and take what's wasn't yours. And now  it's not fair, I shouldn't have to beg for a love that wouldn't come for your sick benefit I shouldn't have begged at all but we all knew it was just ****. And ******* both for how I feel now, inferno under my skin when real love wants me, for this intense incertitude chaos that fills my brain when real love says no. But little does she know how much damage both of you caused. But it was my own fault right? I did to myself. At least that's what you had me believe.
I can't sleep
Surrounded in shadows
The A/C hums and
Moonlight slips in through broken blinds
The shows about to begin

The blankets tangle around my legs
My body tosses left and right
Incapable of ignoring the voices
These memories
They shuffle through my head
Intruding my dreams
Invading my thoughts

I can't sleep
Films featuring fear race through my head
Each one a perfect cut
Of moments in my life where
I was no longer in control
Moments when I was helpless
Moments where I am trapped
Simply a bystander to my own life

Suddenly a new scene appears
Taking off it's long worn
Camouflage that is used to hide
Right in between all the other
Ghastly happenings of my life

I can't sleep
I stare at the stars on my ceiling
Feel myself drift off into space
So far away

This memory is new and it hurts more
Than when it first happened

I can't make it stop
The voices won't stay quiet
It won't stop playing in my mind
The film is ******* endless

I can't sleep
This is about intrusive thoughts and PTSD. And how sometimes you don't remember something right after it happened. Not till years later... Written during a fast at 3 at night so sorry if nothing makes sense rn.
I remember you as a dark figure, looming over me.
My repetition of "no" and "stop" was eventually absorbed into the background noise, ignored- As if I was not present to you, only my body.
Something about the way you overpowered me, until I had nothing left,
You swallowed every remnant of my worth.

Lifeless, with a broken heart, was how you left me.
You touched down in the banks of my hollowed soul,
Like an earthquake, shattered me down to my core.
Everything I built myself upon crumbled, and I was 6 feet underneath the rubble.
That was the last of me, the beginning of my end.

I lacked strength to face this reality, hiding from it instead.
Consumed by destructive habits to fill an ever-growing hole in my heart, I lost myself in a spiraling dark hole.

At the bottom of that hole, I with nothing left, surrendered myself to the One capable of healing.
After a long road of war waged on my soul, peace replaced my hopelessness.
The reality I hid from by using destructive habits to fill an ever growing void, I now face with a full heart, lifted on wings of praise by the Lord's grace.
My loss of self value was redeemed by faith. The scars on my heart, now bandaged, serve as a testimony to the power of ***'s healing.

Where I was once a ***** to my grief, I have been liberated. Where my soul was once lost, has been found.
Written in response to a recent trigger of suppressed memories. Before publishing, I revisited this piece several times contemplating why I was writing it. Two years ago I was introduced to *** by ****, and it stripped me of everything. I've learned, sometimes some weeds have deeper roots than you expect, and occasionally they will sprout up in times you least expect. By the grace of *** I have grown to be stronger because of it, but only because I rely on His strength above my own.
John Reilly Sep 2017
You're off
Clearly off
On yourself
A bottomless
Which you
Have fallen
But I'm
Not falling
For it
You're not
Have made
To be
A monster
Not to be
Who can't protect you
From the fact
That you need me
But I
Cannot protect
From your
Or my future
Let alone
Protect you
From what
Should have been
Left well enough
That's what we
It's traumatic
It's triggering
And you are
The gun
Anthony Smith Jun 2017
Here they sway from side to side.
Father and son, hand in hand.
That poor little girl
Who never stood a chance.

For boy, as you know,
Daddy had a thing for those
Of innocence and very few years.

Yet you watched from the shadows,
As your old man went on,
He didn’t know that you were there.
Why didn’t she scream?

You couldn’t believe the scene,
He is not the one you know
Today he had betrayed your soul.

But you would run if you could,
He blocks the door,
Of this old and abandoned shell of a barn.

Close your eyes boy, but the ears won’t relent,
Just look away and pretend you don’t see
Their silhouettes clinging to the walls.
Now you can never be free

You know the century is early, the laws unevolved
They say what you have seen has left your soul unclean.
They know she was your friend, so now they’ll understand.

This wasn’t your fault, you didn’t make it be
You know your father is to blame, he who hath sinned.
Unleashing evil in its purest form.

But that’s not what they’ll say
When they condemn you two to fate.
As from behind the crate you step,
“Father it is time to flee.”

You know his darkness, yet with him you must go
For life on the run alone, you cannot survive.
You strive for your freedom, with your demon at your side.

You travel the miles, yet with him you will never speak,
Because of him, your childhood is gone.
And even worse is the loss of her’s.

Together you last for many a day
But in the end you’ll never get away.
For it is now the third day of the second week.

You know you are caught, yet with him you’ll still not speak
As the cavalry rides up, and they take you away.
Back to the village where it all began.

The trial is short, the girl revealed all,
as before you were ever found, you were both deemed guilty
And tonight you shall hang, along with your old man.

So here they sway from side to side.
Father and son, hand in hand.
That poor little girl
Who never stood a chance.
Barrow May 2017
I smell like regret, intertwined with sweat.
The Lord's Prayer is resting on my tongue, under my breath.
There's heavy sighing, eyes closed, I's dotted with hearts, X's and O's.

... yet no one knows.
Arik Stone Apr 2017
It’s your birthday today.
Every year this day is a bad day for me.
I think about you and your green eyes, and the pain you’ve caused me.
But I always end up breaking down and texting you.
I always tell you Happy Birthday,
I always make sure you’re okay and having a good day, it’s your birthday after all.
But you never remembered mine.
Every single birthday of yours since I was in 6th grade I’ve been here.
Doing my best for you.
I wanted to give you the world.
Even when it almost killed me.
Even though you only pretended to care about me.
This is the day I let myself get wasted,
I let myself slip back into old addictions just for a night, so maybe I could forget what day it is.
Not only is it the day you were born, it’s the day I lost Flower.
I know you told me to get over it, and I know you’ll never understand.
But March 23rd is one of the worst days of my life.
See "Green Eyes" and "WildFlower"
blaise Mar 2017
i think about it every time i get into a car. every **** time. it used to be, how fast can i go? can i time the drop to the ascent?
can i **** myself
can i **** myself
can i **** myself?
i was eleven when i first realized i wanted to die. i was in a hot crowded car with three uncles who i didn’t know, one who caught me changing and stayed a lot longer than he should have. and the air was like breathing hot sand, and i thought i could just open the door and fling myself out into traffic. maybe i'd turn into a bird and fly free on the wind. when i think about cars i see all the ways i could die. i tremble every time i have to get into a car with my father because i know if he pushes me hard enough i’ll unlock the door and end it.
as i was walking to my room on the night of my first suicide attempt, i told my dad i would never see him again. his eyes flicked up from the book he was reading, and murmured out a simple "nice".
trigger (verb): (especially of something read, seen, or heard) distress (someone), typically as a result of arousing feelings or memories associated with a particular traumatic experience.
Pauline Russell Mar 2017
Trigger was hit
Tag, your it
Off goes the switch
Watch the twitch
Bang goes the gun
Wasn't this life fun

©Pauline Russell
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