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stillhuman Jan 2
Today I hate you.
My blood boils thinking
of all the times you burnt me
with your words
your indifference
your disrespect
My hands get cold
with nervousness waiting
for a fight to break out
My eyes water
with shame
Because I remember
how you don't take responsability
how you put the blame on me
how we have always argued
how you demean my worth and feelings
how you shaped my reactions
my instincts
my image
to something I never wanted to be.
So, today I hate you.
Today I can't bring myself to forget.
We have nothing left to do
but wait for tomorrow.
I guess love is more complicated than just "yes" or "no".
Grace B Jul 2020
It’s plastic bags & paper napkins that taught us left
from right.
Saying grace at dinner but not in prayers.
Teaching wholeness & caring words through these paper napkins,
can't you see,
your words were too light.
Nothing seeped through.
We could spend days wading in rivers or
Driving through fields.
Catching the sun turnover,
shadows of trees hitting your face,
Light, dark, light, dark.
The smell of dirt soaking through your skin.
We had all of this time.
But we never had the chance to learn anything that would fall through your paper plate,
And hit your heart.
Nothing that would turn the moon on its back.
I feel so sorry.
Now we’re all too heavy to catch the sun.
Grey Jun 2020
Every child grows a pair of wings.
Some are just never taught to fly.
6/3/2020
Ella James Apr 2020
My body craves it, but I don’t want it

Every time I think of it, I sense the bile in my throat

Don’t give in.  

“I love the feeling, the burning.”

Can’t you tell? I’ve been raised like this

Indulging in the emptiness

Nothingness.

Eat.
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
By birth most knew
This name of stern
As mentors too
Some take this turn

Few tamed in domicile
Less in passive right
Age takes this notice
Not wisdom nor sight

Whose care can nurture
Great strength in a foal?
To yield such future
Mere presence can scold

With great hope so few
Enjoy this manly art
That horses will march
Long after they depart

I await this fortune
Time takes my reign
My worships in court
Years cannot regain

How will my horses march
On life's steeple chase
Without their father's hold
From this their tender age?
M Solav Jul 2019
My childhood,
My whole upbringing,
All the things that I've done
And all of whom I have met;
Everything I have seen
In my homeland and overseas;
Every wasted thought,
Stories I have kept to myself,
Words I have shared in vain...
Such a quantity of inputs,
From ears, eyes and touch;
So much thought invested
Trying to uncover new paths;
All this pain for all this time,
All the joys that last a while;

They amount to just a few...
A few more clever taps
On top of the screen
Of an electronic pad.
Written in December 2018.


— Copyright © M. Solav —
This work may not be used in entirety or in part without the prior approval of its author. Please contact marsolav@outlook.com for usage requests. Thank you.
__________
Gods1son Oct 2018
Born with a silver spoon
And ate from a golden plate

Born with a wooden spoon
And ate from a plastic plate

Your upbringing is not the main determinant that you will be great
Of course, it does go a long way
But it doesn't have the final say
Every person still has a price to pay!
I think a man by all rights,
Should believe in anything he wants.
But your choice set my fear,
tenfold.

Your inherited freedom
Is on a leash.
Not aware that it tethers  
your children's necks.
A series of short verse for a new illustrated book about Vincent van Gogh.
Examples of work can be seen on IG  - @yellowstonestudio
While meditating earlier today,
a flashback leapt
     clear for me to assay,
those ever receding

     early boyhood daze,
     now subsumed within fifty,
plus nine shades of gray
blissfully innocent naivety,

     (though blessed) no way
would, aye desire to turn back
     the hands of father time (hypothetically),
     where unstructured play

regularly with older sister
     (thirteen plus months
     my senior) predominantly
     slicing, sliding, and slipping

     stockinged feet skittering
     across slippery basement floor,
     this then soul full
     skinny thing bellowed hooray.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"I'm Matty Mattel; I got hurt;
     Can you go out?"
Those words uttered
     by the very first

     pull-string talking doll
     Mattel did tout
circa nineteen sixty
     revolutionizing the birth

     of quasi simulated (lifelike) toys,
     and made of common
     materials found scout
ting around the house simply comprising

     hard vinyl (i.e. pseudo
     plaster of Paris) head he did flout
     with remaining body
     stuffed with padding,

     a definite no
     no (chew toy) when Fido about.
Actually that pooch,
     would be Georgie to you,

     (a hybrid Boxer Dalmatian)
     with docked tail
my young parents acquired,
     when as a newborn,

     aye did inconsolably wail
though recollection of such memory
     fifty nine years ago tis of no avail
yet, a resumption of meditation,

     sans lightness of being
     (analogous trancelike state),
     that doth prevail
replaying silent film preceding,

     when psyche seem so frail
plummeting into emotional abyss
     the nadir i.e. anorexia nervosa
pleading return to nostalgic boyhood
     decrying change hide didst bewail!
SangAndTranen Mar 2018
I saw all hours
Day and night.
You kept me up,
Brought me up to fight.

Worked me and worked me
'Till I fell
Then dragged me up
And gave me hell.

From a child
You dragged me down.
Told me to fight back -
To win the crown.

Made me build my walls
Like you, impregnable.
You took me to town
And showed me around
And said
GO CONQUER IT ALL!

You told me to ignore
The tears on my face.
Get up and fight on;
Spit the blood you taste.

Broken bones are trophies,
Bruises are victory.
Wear them proud
Among the crowd
LOOK HOW STRONG YOU WILL BE.

I cant be broken apart anymore
I am indestructible

You broke me to make me
You shook me to shape me
And it paid off
I'm indestructible.

I'M INDESTRUCTIBLE.
Inspired by the likes of Imagine Dragons, especially "Believer".
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