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Rachel Dec 2023
Am I really upset over this shopping cart?
This cart that is full of heavy and huge products.
Am I upset over how many people may make me stop and block my path in this store?
Every single one, just trying to get by, with their very own shopping cart.
No.
It must be this feeling of being unheard.
To follow and soon becoming lead.
But where is progression when those who follow, don’t.
Annoyance, overstimulation, anger, boil.
Every stop, turn, push.
Stop.
Turn.
Push.
Is it my fault we’re here?
Perhaps next time I’ll come alone.
Hello, it’s been a while since I’ve posted or have written anything on here. I just wrote this poem in a state of built up emotion. As someone who gets overstimulated in stores where big crowds occur you might understand how it feels like trying to get by, especially if you’re in charge of pushing this heavy shopping cart. Mix that with unresolved and unspoken issues between you and whoever you come with and you get this. Thank you.
E Nov 2023
Driving on the road every day is how I connect and see those in my community. In a given month, I pass by thousands of cars. Why is it that I feel the most alone in transit to my destinations?

Driving recklessly, driving with suicidal intent, driving under the influence are all acts of violence. How can I make these same people care about themselves and the people in their life if they are unforgiving in weapons of destruction?

I ask those to take "sonder" into their commute. Do you see the man 300 feet away in the car with his wife and children? Do you see the breast cancer survivor in the pink car with their eldest daughter? Do you see the bicyclist doing their daily commute? Do you see their life outside of their commute— their love, their hobbies, their favorite books and songs, and their trauma?

We should all hold space and reflect when in passing. To be mindful and present, we are equally human, with drive and something that drives us. We need to start giving a ****.

How are we supposed to care for one another when all that surrounds us are displays of violence? It’s more than the overt displays—recklessness and abuse towards ourselves or others, hate crimes, police brutality, genocide, institutions of slavery.

When certain events enter into the collective consciousness, because we are forced to witness them; these acts tend to remind us we are disenfranchised. We are silenced. We are powerless. Until we mobilize and resist in acts of love.

Let me remind whoever is reading this: we criminalize and demonize those who give sanctuary, those who educate and speak their truth, those who feed the unhoused, those who do work on the ground, and those involved in policy.

We think little of those with degrees, fixations, and aspirations dealing in social justice, social studies, and sciences. To commemorate and value everyone as a human being is far more important than aspiring to become the next billionaire.

I don’t wake up and dream about wealth. I dream about people feeling safe and having resources on hand if they ever encounter a crisis. I dream about others committing to mutual aid and bartering practices as a way to help one another but also resist. I dream about shutting off our devices because we can call out unhelpful discourse and disinformation. I dream about others having a shared trait to discuss than to find every reason to think they’re so different.

I think I understand what finding community means. Though I haven’t talked to enough people, I can envision community as reaching over to the next person and actively hearing them, seeing them, and being there how you can. Community is being heard, community is finding love in places you thought you couldn’t, and it’s giving a ****.
we need solidarity right now for all disenfranchised and oppressed peoples on this world, and i don’t see how we can do that without caring at the local, state, or national level. i ask that you make a new friend, find genuine connections, and spread beam of lights into people. for those who are depressed or otherwise cannot do it’s easily, i see you and i hear you. i love you, even if you don’t know me. you matter and your life matters. from the river to the sea, palestine will be free.
aesthenne Nov 2023
how saddening
is it
to know that
the form of love
we yearn for the most
is something of
equal value
with its other kinds?

how dare
the media
the people
the society
***** my mind
with such lies
that romance
is not all
bells
and whistles
of mankind?
11/27/23
I was raised
Surrounded by shouting
Fights and arguments
I was traumatised countless times
And i either can’t stop feeling
Or I desperately try to feel something
Never an inbetween
Just dragged from one side to the other
In the blink of an eye
Feeling everything to the extreme
Even my numbness
I can’t trust anyone
No matter how hard I try
I’ll always feel unloved
Because from a young age
I never knew what love was
I never experienced what everyone else did
I wouldn’t know a healthy family dynamic
If it slapped me in the face
The emotional abuse
All the pain I was made to feel
The nights staying awake
Sobbing
Too scared they’ll hear me and give me something to cry about
And now being an adult
Still under their roof
19 years later and still analysing the footsteps coming up the stairs
Scared to be a second late
Or to speak in the wrong tone
Because I knew what would happen
Eternally fearing I’ll upset someone
Pretending to sleep
Faking having work so I have an excuse to leave the house and escape the torment
I just want to leave
I want to be a proper adult and leave this hell
And find that peace I always dreamed of
Vent
Jellyfish Oct 2023
I get ****** into expectations
I'm 25 but can't tell you what faith is.
I shut down when I think about saying no,
I guess I still care about what my family knows.

I'm 25 but 12 inside,
I don't know myself and tend to hide.
I have taxes, bills, a dog; my own life
But I'm still the girl who escapes online

I hate to hear their judgements; their insights
I try to connect through words
But say the wrong things,
and get lectured through sighs.

I don't know what I'm doing wrong,
I've tried and tried to find the cause,
I'm so frustrated, but go in circles
I keep looking for our bond.

What I really want is to disappear
Shut my eyes to the relief of tears.
To wake up as strums in the air,
To be a part of my own song.
I feel so dumb. I'm an adult but don't know what I'm doing. I don't know who I am or what I want or need. I feel like an answer to someone else's question
Phoenix Sep 2023
It's not a bad day

It's raining outside after a night of loud thunder

It's not a bad day

I woke up in blood

It's not a bad day

I had to wash my sheets and scrub my mattress

It's not a bad day

I couldn't figure out what to wear

It's not a bad day

I couldn't look at my body without disgust

It's not a bad day

I struggled to find an outfit to make it bearable

It's not a bad day

My new thrifted necklace broke in two places

It's not a bad day

My ears started bleeding when I put in earrings

It's not a bad day

I ran out of time to do my chores before I had to leave

It's not a bad day

I have to go to the store after my college classes

It's not a bad day

The 20 dollar manicured nail polish are already chipping after 4 days

It's not a bad day

I promise
It's not a bad day
It can't be a bad day
Phoenix Sep 2023
Too many words
Thoughts
Ideas
Pictures

Clogged pores
Gears
Mind
Lungs

Drown myself in media
Muffle the sound
Muzzle my mind

Going to implode
Explode
Both

Trapped in a cage
Walls shrinking in
Too much against my skin

Electricity in my veins
Bees in my mind
Nothing behind my eyes

Must get out
Must escape
Must smile
Must behave
EG Jul 2023
Hey its me again
I just need to vent
Its time my mind got right
So I can breath again
But things begin
To take a toll
And sometimes you can feel so small
That it crushes you
Punches you in the gut
Followed with a uppercut
Like what the ****?
Can I get a break?
Can I get some time to recuperate?
I guess this is life
These ups and downs
The smiles and frowns
#vent
When he comes home, I go into panic mode,
The walls in my brain closing in,
The bile in my throat rising,
My teeth sweating in anticipation of what is to come

When he comes home,
I hope to god that I pass beneath the radar,
Nothing more than a sigh on the breeze,
Nothing more than a ripple in a pond
Nothing for him to notice

When he comes home, I make myself as small as I can,
Hoping that he’ll ignore me like he has all these years,
But knowing that it’s a futile attempt,
Like trying to avoid the burning sun

When he comes home,
The nausea roils in my gut,
Reminding me that I am nothing,
That I will never be anything more than what he paints me to be

When he comes home,
I am reduced to “yes sir” and “no sir,”
To eyes that are glued to the ceiling or floors,
To fidgeting hands and twisting fingers
To nothing more than a decoration to stand in the corner

When he comes home,
I try to retreat to my room,
I try to give him the space that he seems to need,
I try to leave him be and let him sleep,
But nothing seems to work, and he yells all the same

When he comes home,
My home becomes nothing more than a battlefield,
One that I cannot escape,
One that there is no running from,
One from which the injuries are only seen in the trauma that is left behind

When he comes home,
My life becomes nothing more than a play,
A tragedy in which no one survives,
A performance that I am supposed to know,
But stage fright has taken over and the lines mean nothing to me now
And I am frozen, hoping for the curtains to fall to cover my fear

When he comes home,
I quietly
Exit
Stage left.
Trauma responses ****
In all of my twenty years of life,
I have been many things.

A daughter
A sister
A friend
A lover

But now, I am no longer my father’s little girl.

My father doesn’t talk to me anymore;
He says that I don’t look him in the eyes,
And he is right, but not for the reason he believes

I am afraid to look him in the eyes
Because I don’t want to see myself reflected in them,
Proof of my failure to separate myself from him,
Proof that I am him and always will be him

I do not want to become my father,
Stuck in a marriage with no love left
Or love that is there
Only because it is supposed to be

I do not want to become my father,
Constantly on the verge of tiredness,
And whether that tiredness is directed at
His family or his life, I shall never know

Because I do not want to become my father
All sharp words and angry edges,
Keeping everyone around him on their toes,
Keeping my head on a swivel to not upset him

I do not want to be my father.
I do not want to make my children feel
as though they will never measure up to
Impossible standards, set way too high

I do not want to be my father,
Telling my daughter that she’s eating too much
And not looking at me enough,
Guilt-tripping her into half-hearted apologies,
Said with tears trembling in her eyes

I do not want to be my father.
I do not want my children to be frightened of me,
Dreading the thought of my arrival home
Waiting in fear of my reaction to something they’ve done

I do not want to be my father.
My home will be a gentle home,
Peaceful and quiet,
With no rage-filled shouting matches

I do not want to be my father,
Wondering where he went wrong with his daughter,
That she would stand in front of him, angry tears on her cheeks,
Screaming at him that she wishes that she were dead

I do not want to be my father.
Struggling to catch up with the times,
Grudgingly supportive of the daughter that is different,
The daughter that loves men and women,
But only because he has to be

I do not want to be my father
But I wish that sometimes,
I could be his little girl again,
Back when everything was ok
And it still felt like he loved me

I do not want to be my father,
But sometimes,
It feels as though
I will never be anything more
We love daddy issues
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