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moziq Aug 2017
Give me a reason to love the way you fist connects with my jaw and your boot to my shins.
Give me a reason to enjoy the taste of blood pooling in my mouth.
Give me a reason to smile at the bruises on my sides and my thighs.
Because I can't  seen to find a **** good thing about the hate you spew out of your lips and express in your fist,
but tell me that you love me and all the "baby I'm sorry's.
Theres a cycle of pain that never ends,
a line between love and hate but you don't know the difference.
Now you want me to find pleasure in the bullet i've bitten but there is no more me.
No more me to say another **** "baby I'm sorry".
Racheal McKnight Dec 2015
Does anyone truly know,
The meaning behind the thread?
It represents fourteen women,
Who as of December 6 lay dead.

We should all take time to remember,
All the lives that were lost.
To appreciate the lives they lived,
Because their lives were cost.

Violence against women is wrong,
As everyone should see.
We are all equal in all ways,
Which is how things need to be.
This is to remember all 14 women who died at the sight of the Montreal massacre
Ottar Sep 2014
empty fields filled with noise,
echoes of the past misted voices,
desolate landscapes hide still life,
left behind like unwanted dolls
each one hurt then mortally harmed,
why are only loved ones alarmed,
fathers not given a chance,
                                               to protect
                                               or sacrifice a life,
mothers not given a chance,
                                                 to stand up
                                                 with all of the love,
                                                  and their own life,
sisters and brothers and all the others,
                                                 to reject en masse,
                                                  against diminished worth,
each victim, born by birth, like you,
each and everyone, now, in the arms of the Son,
if there was a drop of mercy for every fallen tear,
even with all of that, there is anger and there is fear,
and questions that scream from the heart where,
lifelong pain is the thief, that steals parts of those
who remain,
in pain
and disbelief,
that it happened to someone they knew,
that it happened ever at all,
that it will happen again.

Where goodbye, was...

And again. Happen.

That love could not save them all
from these acts that took them away.
Undeserved death.
By men who aren't men,
Or by a coward dressed as a man.

Once the news floods in
and
the spinning begins, and
never ends
never ends never ends
never ends never ends never ends
heaps of hearts lie cut on broken dreams,
sleep is a dream where a scream
is an alarm that went off too loud, too late, too often.

That won't turn off.
While Peace and Hope are near, and always seem,
out of reach, cause stains and burns like bleach,
come with cost where there is loss and the vibrant
memories,
already begin to fade.
Will not comment on politicians or prevention or police or the judiciary, please leave no comments about the good or the failures of the four above.  This is not about them.

— The End —