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Millie Jun 24
Back against the wall
I hear them yell all night
Who needs sleep?
Sabrina May 18
Stop the yelling
Stop the swearing
I can feel my tear ducts burning
We live in a house
Food and care
Driven everywhere
But how come I live in constant fear
Of the raising of voices
Up in here?
Stop the yelling
Stop the swearing
Can't we all just get along?
I can feel my sanity dropping
Maybe when I move out
My sanity won't be in a drought
whats the name of the phobia for the fear of loud noises/yelling
also everything is ok i just get upset over simple callouts even if it's positive
War
with
Words;

you're yelling,
screaming;
it hurts.
This is what I call
a battlefield
creating wounds that may
never
heal.
I hate it when people yell.
Yelling doesn't help with anything.
nightdew Mar 25
he wears bruises as skin
and scars as tattoos.

in what he calls home;
are echoes of blinding screams,
are loud screeches of pain,
are impulsive reactions.

he's uncertain what the term
"family" possesses
only believing it's pain.

what he couldn't learn
was that family could
be sweet and peaceful.

and so he wears bruises from
the fights he tried to break.
and scars as pride in the memory.
family issues are resolvable,
you can do it. ***
Hunter Feb 4
A sudden burst of sound jolts me from sleep,
I am now awake and listening closely,
my room is dark and the streetlights outside are all burnt out,
car doors close and someone swears outside my door.

The home alarm beeps and I know mother is home,
and through muffled voices I hear her and my stepfather,
I poke my head out my door and can see her defensive stance,
she is ready to explain her late arrival,
dressed in nice clothes and her hair still groomed,
a stark contrast again her grimey boyfriend with stains down his front.

It is the same as usual,
an argument about the workload divide in this house,
mother is crying and her lover is screaming,
and neither consider the children watching.

A turn towards the stairs and I close my door,
I climb back into my bed and his words burn into my skull,
and mother’s crying as permanent as always,
my room is dark and the streetlights outside are all burnt out.

Always defensive and never offensive,
mother will never have control of her life.
my english class required me to write a poem based upon Kay Smith's "Family Group", basically 4 stanzas (introduction, description, actions, closing) then two lines passing judgement. it had to be about an event we witnessed but were not directly a part of.
I'm
                           screaming,
                              
yelling,
          
                         calling

your name.
But either I
have lost my voice
or you
do not want to hear me
no more.
Lieke Feb 1
I yell and I yell
enclosed by the air
and yet I can't feel it.


I want to hurt myself
just so I can feel something
So I try and I try
but not a drop of blood shed.


I shoot and I shoot
I clash my cymbals
I set myself on fire
I bomb the whole **** cloud.

Nothing moves.


I am stuck in an infinite circle of an alternate reality.
Isolated from life.
I sit and sob
in a cloud of white air.
about a dream I had a few nights ago. 1 February, 2019
Masha Yurkevich Dec 2018
Please don't fight;
it turns the beautiful day
into an **** night.
Please don't argue;
it has no value.
Please don't shout;
it's a verbal shootout.
Please don't yell;
I hate it,
can't you tell!?
hello my name is Nov 2018
I've been trying to write poetry
I think I just need to go back to therapy
I've never been good at explaining how I feel
I thought putting it on paper would help
But the thoughts in my head move too fast for me to dictate
Maybe I should learn shorthand
Or maybe I could start kickboxing
I'm trying to find a way to get all of this **** out of my head
But it's sticking to the inside of my brain like tar in lungs
I'd scream, but I'm afraid nothing would come out.
DancingEnt Nov 2018
I dont want to be
Your verbal punching bag. So
Please just set me free
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