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#pains
when i think of it all, i just want to throw up. that young girl so innocent, you forced her to grow up then you never showed up, when she needed you most. to think that she loved what was only a ghost - a ghost of the boy you should have been. but you wanted to win. left her bleeding in sin. oh the girl i could have been.. 4.28.23
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Mar 3
Mar 3, 2026 at 9:59 PM UTC
the ghost
Hey! The voice still echoes The voice of a being who evaporate, A voice that evaporated into a future I can no longer share. The scars aren't healed, but the memories? Etched into my heart like a local tribal marks. Do I miss her ? No! The game is over A game that ended before we started, Yet this voice won't free me from the ******* Maybe my heart still feels the sparkle to your gaslights. I tore the book of you and I, but I still feel ecstatic when our memories pops up. I was never a follower, I was lover. A reckless one!!
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Jan 18
Jan 18, 2026 at 6:14 PM UTC
Etched pain!
You're not as young as you used to be, stooped over with weak, and bad knees, your lower back is aching, there are pains everywhere, arthritis, aching joints, but Life has Been Fair, You can't move like you used to You are starting to slow down, You take your time now, Carefully moving yourself around You're fatigued, breathy and tired, You are out of breath indeed, You can't do it like you used to, Settling down is what you really need. Your bones are cracking, Your get up us gone People's move ahead of you As you are slowly pushing along Be careful what you do, and Please take your time, because, You're no spring chicken, Your youth has left you Behind!!! B.R. Date: 11/18/2025
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Nov 18, 2025
Nov 18, 2025 at 1:58 PM UTC
You're No Spring Chicken
Some alive people, are just dead to me.
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Sep 19, 2025
Sep 19, 2025 at 10:07 PM UTC
Growing Pains
they see your light luminescent and burning with pale shades of pink and orange they love to bask in its warm glow but they could never sustain it so far silly girl, always mistaking her own reflection as another's glow when will you ever learn? perhaps when your whole world is dim enough and all the mirrors have fogged up you will trace that sliver of light on your own fingertips in the iris of your eyes painful, but necessary for you to finally realise you are what you seek in everything.
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Apr 21, 2025
Apr 21, 2025 at 4:56 AM UTC
turning 24
This one, crying, while the static repeats from the tv screen. Repetition again, my mourning. My fist whacks it with my fist, And then she was visualized again, One last time. Diamond green eyes, still wired with fireworks and a laugh and smile That relaxes and pleases, me again.....
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Apr 1, 2025
Apr 1, 2025 at 3:40 PM UTC
TV Screen
Because theses dreams open the door; I have a firmly closed mind, shut against the idea of leaving them behind. I’ve seen some desperately trying to walk their own path of destiny – to find that every path circles back to where you began. Empathy strips the heart bare, for mercy to allow us to feel the pain of others. In truth, we could all share the same pain, even those we consider foes; especially them – for they too reflect a fragment of our own struggles, but only in the currency of hatred; much like paying a fraction of rent. Evil is built by the very castles we showcase in the realm of the Devil’s kingdom. While knowing what it feels like to be healed, it’s first by admitting your own afflictions— darkness only breeds darkness, just as light nurtures light; dignity is through the journey of self-discovery. " Know your worth," the tale unfolds, and thus, the lives we lead shape the pivotal choice: do we persist in our quest to uplift others, or do we seek solace in our own suffering, turning a blind eye to the anguish that binds us all?
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Jan 1, 2025
Jan 1, 2025 at 1:23 PM UTC
For all people
Dust and Tattoos I. I thought I’d carry myself whole, from Budapest’s bright embrace to the dusty arms of home— lessons etched as tattoos, whippings turned wisdom, the shine of surrender making me anew. But dusty roads have a way of stealing your breath, of burying who you were becoming. Smoky windows blur the light inside, and the life I learned to live is suffocated beneath the weight. Dust settles in my lungs, on my skin, and I am buried within myself. II. Oh sweet home, oh sorrowful walls, your cracks hold my history, your air is thick with stone-throwers. A mother who never looks my way, a sister carved from favoritism’s stone, a brother who screams his poison, a family that taught me how to ache. No corner safe. No love unbarbed. Each breath is a wound and every wound is a lesson in survival. I survive. Not live. Survive. III. Then, there is Kay. Kay, with his better house in town, Kay, with his borrowed peace. Five years marked in love and betrayal, a love that wears masks, a peace that feels fragile, a solace that cracks when I’m not near his arms. I detach to protect myself. Switch my soul off. Learn to find my peace in distance. Even with him, I know: the dusty town still calls me back, its fingers curling at my ankles. The cycle repeats. IV. But this time, there is hope. This time, I whisper to myself: maybe one day, the cycle will break. Maybe one day, I’ll stand in a house where no one has thrown stones, where the walls hold only my voice, where survival isn’t the rhythm of my days. One day, I’ll rise brighter than before, tattooed lessons shining on healed skin. One day, I’ll step off these roads and never look back. V. But for now, the roads are dusty. For now, I go where the dust consumes. For now, I survive. Country roads, you know what to do. Lead me home— but one day, lead me away.
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Dec 6, 2024
Dec 6, 2024 at 11:08 AM UTC
Dusty Town
Dust and Tattoos I. I thought I’d carry myself whole, from Budapest’s bright embrace to the dusty arms of home— lessons etched as tattoos, whippings turned wisdom, the shine of surrender making me anew. But dusty roads have a way of stealing your breath, of burying who you were becoming. Smoky windows blur the light inside, and the life I learned to live is suffocated beneath the weight. Dust settles in my lungs, on my skin, and I am buried within myself. II. Oh sweet home, oh sorrowful walls, your cracks hold my history, your air is thick with stone-throwers. A mother who never looks my way, a sister carved from favoritism’s stone, a brother who screams his poison, a family that taught me how to ache. No corner safe. No love unbarbed. Each breath is a wound and every wound is a lesson in survival. I survive. Not live. Survive. III. Then, there is Kay. Kay, with his better house in town, Kay, with his borrowed peace. Five years marked in love and betrayal, a love that wears masks, a peace that feels fragile, a solace that cracks when I’m not near his arms. I detach to protect myself. Switch my soul off. Learn to find my peace in distance. Even with him, I know: the dusty town still calls me back, its fingers curling at my ankles. The cycle repeats. IV. But this time, there is hope. This time, I whisper to myself: maybe one day, the cycle will break. Maybe one day, I’ll stand in a house where no one has thrown stones, where the walls hold only my voice, where survival isn’t the rhythm of my days. One day, I’ll rise brighter than before, tattooed lessons shining on healed skin. One day, I’ll step off these roads and never look back. V. But for now, the roads are dusty. For now, I go where the dust consumes. For now, I survive. Country roads, you know what to do. Lead me home— but one day, lead me away.
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72
One was left reeling The other went on with life Two people words exchanged On a Thursday at 2:00 pm Feelings emotions intentions coming to light One’s truth blindsiding the other’s truth 4 months of you and me Trickled down to a 20 minute text exchange That’s what I was worth to you. Her reply unshaken disappointment His reply an aloof “don’t be stranger … let’s be friends” Silent tears mourning the idea of what could have been - she refused to let him see her break . Him going about life - realizing he might not really want a clean break. Me saying take care - walking away You saying add me on social media - trying to keep me in your life Words said can’t be unsaid This is how the story of us ends.
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Feb 19, 2024
Feb 19, 2024 at 8:14 PM UTC
The End
I once loved a man, Who made a bet on my worth, A sick game he played, To measure his own girth. He wagered my virginity, A trophy to be won, His ego as fragile, As glass in the sun. I lost that bet, And with it my innocence, A love that was tainted, By his selfish pretense. He got me pregnant, A life I never planned, But he didn't want the burden, And gave me an ultimatum to end. I felt trapped and scared, His words a heavy weight, But I found the courage, To choose my own fate. I left him behind, Never looking back, An escape from the toxicity, The strength I never knew I had. My first love, A painful lesson learned, A reminder to never settle, And that self-love is earned.
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Apr 21, 2023
Apr 21, 2023 at 6:45 AM UTC
Love: The sick game
Start by wearing your heart on your sleeve. You don't know any better yet, up to this point the world has been good to you. When your heart starts catching on door knobs and being battered against the black top, you carefully tuck the gently scratched ***** in your pocket. In your pocket, out of sight it's a little harder for the bruises to land. Over time the blood stain of time spent hidden seeps through. When the first blow lands it knocks the wind from you. You still don't lock your heart up. You just move it back into your chest. You don't sew yourself shut, cracked ribs spread wide, a tourniquet wrapped around one chamber, the abused ***** still trying to beat it's an erratic rhythm, but it's a pulse. It's not even shocking, when daggers come from the front or behind and twist into the gnarled flesh. Arterial spray, broken pieces you've given away, cover the walls. Bones curl around to try to protect you, but you've never been able to close yourself off completely. The worst part is, you sort of enjoy the pain. For a moment, the heart remembers before the first bruises marred the skin, before you built a cage to exist within.
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Aug 3, 2022
Aug 3, 2022 at 11:50 PM UTC
How To Break Your Own Heart:
She lived as she could Like a human should Love, trust, care Was given, also received Her strength like no other My precious intense bolder Your grace was unbounding Your peace was almost sickening Her living inspired All that was near and far Your food the greatest Your love the best Though she fell on death’s bed She fought for life’s shed The pain she could no longer withstand She saw the hand stretched For the sake of our love She followed the one from heaven above A many tears given From the me that was left behind My love. Missing you everyday Has made me live in my yesterday I will relinquish these feelings To us, that is most appealing So for now we will part For us to meet in time at God’s path Be forever remembered In lightened embers From all memories rendered Thank you, for loving me As I did you.
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Jul 18, 2022
Jul 18, 2022 at 4:24 AM UTC
AN ELEGY TO MY BELOVED
Have a care, they said if the wind changes you’ll stay like that and I think I missed the breeze that fixed me in place in among the hurricane days, but the aches and pains don’t shift no more, just there to be muted by whatever suits and ties
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Apr 5, 2022
Apr 5, 2022 at 4:57 AM UTC
Zephyr
The pain still linger My feelings trapped Can’t love any longer Because my heart bled Blood of my feelings Feelings that brought trust Trust of the past love Love that never existed
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Feb 19, 2022
Feb 19, 2022 at 8:42 AM UTC
NOT LOVE
The pain of being in pain and then you land into trouble They slept on empty stomachs,and the next day,the son is arrested and locked up He has been caught up in this,all in pursuit for a meal for himself and maybe some remainder to spare for home The mother has no other source of income apart from doing small odd jobs on the village The small wages she earns can hardly afford her all the basics But despite that,she still has to take care of the family And now she has to spare all of it to bail him out And his siblings will have to skip the day's meals The father left them,for he felt they were too much of a responsibility And now the family situation is a calamity. This other one drinks to numb her pain The 'morning dose' kick-starts the day and she goes on through it She sells her body to fend for the basics Sometimes,she does it to just get a little something to quench her unquenchable yearning for the drink But many a time, it's to fend for her 2 kids, whose fathers she's not aware of Today,she just found out that she's *** positive (10/9/2021)
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Jan 22, 2022
Jan 22, 2022 at 3:18 PM UTC
The Pangs of Poverty
The bags under my eyes Can't support the weight Of stress I carry everyday; The bags in my eyes, Can't carry the heaviness Like my world is tumbling down; When does my bridge fall down?
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Mar 28, 2021
Mar 28, 2021 at 12:33 AM UTC
Frail Soul
Ain't I myself hero? Reflecting in my mirror with a deep smile on my cracked lips Remembering the pains I've survived. Oh my darling me, walked through black mud streets in painful legs to school In just flip flop slippers on, Not a sock worn Just visible scars Left seen by eyes the way they are. I've been called fat a million times how many things I've got to fight, the strangling thoughts of body shape feeling ugly like a certain ape, Today I laugh at such words and when unpleasant words comes by I laugh or smile through it all.
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Mar 17, 2021
Mar 17, 2021 at 11:39 AM UTC
I am myself hero.
This was very unexpected, The pain is a pain I've never felt, There's nothing easy about losing a child, The moment I found out, I was drowning in tears, I've wanted a child since I was young, I don't question his doings, I just take it as a lesson as well as a blessing, God has something bigger in store for us, This broke my heart deeper than you can imagine, I felt like my heart was taken out my chest, My heart stopped for a moment, I'm trying my best to keep it together, But truth be told it ain't easy, The holy spirit is what's keeping me sane, Without my faith I'll go insane, Outside I look good but inside I'm in pain, There's no one to blame, Life will never be the same, Me and my wife went through this together, We will get through this together, One day we will try again but not anytime soon, My pain so deep you can't see it, Keep my emotions inside, God gives his toughest battles, To his strongest soldiers, So the battle hasn't began to begin, It's far from over, We are soliders so will fight to end, Children are in our future.
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Mar 15, 2021
Mar 15, 2021 at 7:25 PM UTC
Miscarriage Pains
True comfort lies in Infancy or in Mother's lap, But True peace lies only in Death And I know that Because In death you Are free from all Pains and emotions, Like I was in that Comatose state
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Mar 7, 2021
Mar 7, 2021 at 12:08 PM UTC
Comfort
Before the Autumn reaps, don’t you believe that tree’s leaves would enjoy knowing the feeling of reaching and holding another’s branches? All the while these trees cannot conceive of such things. I like to envision the brain of a dandelion as it tenderly caresses the faces of other dandelions. Before the wind sweeps away with their heads spreading each one’s likeness across distant lands. I bet they’d hold on to one another, these seeds, to the seeds of their lovers hoping to exist together upon the reaches of greener grass. It’s not unlike me to marvel at what a miracle consciousness is. How lucky we are to share it despite all of its pains. All the while these dandelions might never see their own likenesses the way I can divine myself reflected back in my child’s smiling eyes. It’s such a blessing to conceive of such things. -six pm
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Mar 5, 2021
Mar 5, 2021 at 10:25 AM UTC
*when I think of Julia
I see you, seeing the real me; the woman who hides. The woman who hides behind the pain of familial hurts that refuse to fall off and die. I see you, seeing me, looking at me deeply with your heart. I see you looking into my eyes; who are you really looking at? What are you looking for? I have pain yes, I have hurts, yes. I have pains that you’ll never want to know about. But your eyes, your eyes are the window to my soul. That night at the table I saw you, looking at the real me. I saw the deepness inside of you, through your eyes. I saw your devotion; you reached out to me and gave me something I’ve never had before, real strength. You say to me, “life is too short to be unhappy.”   Because of your strength, I am working on just that, being happy. Because of the way you look into me, I am clearing out the sadness and clutter that has kept my life in deep dis-repair.   I am working on not allowing any person; place or solitary thing, to steal my joy, and to keep me down. Because of the way you look into me, I am a work in progress. Because of the way you look into my soul, I am working on making changes that you see deep inside of a broken me. When I look into your eyes, I see feelings; I see strength, I see the power of what a really good man can actually do. I see a drop of golden honey, that gets sweeter and sweeter with each passing day. When I look into your eyes, I see my future being put together with grains of sand, that bind us together to heal both our pasts.  When you look into my eyes, I feel you inside of me. Your strength is helping me heal, you are rebuilding my hurts; pains, and all of my disappointments. When you sit next to me and stare into my eyes; my soul is being autographed by your character. You give me a portion of your strength when your eyes look through me and see my pain. Your eyes see something in me that I ever knew was there, because your eyes are the window   to my healing soul, I can work on healing myself, and release my hidden pain and sadness.
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Jan 29, 2021
Jan 29, 2021 at 10:01 PM UTC
YOUR EYES (ARE THE WINDOW TO MY SOUL)
I see you, seeing the real me; the woman who hides. The woman who hides behind the pain of familial hurts that refuse to fall off and die. I see you, seeing me, looking at me deeply with your heart. I see you looking into my eyes; who are you really looking at? What are you looking for? I have pain yes, I have hurts, yes. I have pains that you’ll never want to know about. But your eyes, your eyes are the window to my soul. That night at the table I saw you, looking at the real me. I saw the deepness inside of you, through your eyes. I saw your devotion; you reached out to me and gave me something I’ve never had before, real strength. You say to me, “life is too short to be unhappy.”   Because of your strength, I am working on just that, being happy. Because of the way you look into me, I am clearing out the sadness and clutter that has kept my life in deep dis-repair.   I am working on not allowing any person; place or solitary thing, to steal my joy, and to keep me down. Because of the way you look into me, I am a work in progress. Because of the way you look into my soul, I am working on making changes that you see deep inside of a broken me. When I look into your eyes, I see feelings; I see strength, I see the power of what a really good man can actually do. I see a drop of golden honey, that gets sweeter and sweeter with each passing day. When I look into your eyes, I see my future being put together with grains of sand, that bind us together to heal both our pasts.  When you look into my eyes, I feel you inside of me. Your strength is helping me heal, you are rebuilding my hurts; pains, and all of my disappointments. When you sit next to me and stare into my eyes; my soul is being autographed by your character. You give me a portion of your strength when your eyes look through me and see my pain. Your eyes see something in me that I ever knew was there, because your eyes are the window   to my healing soul, I can work on healing myself, and release my hidden pain and sadness.
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Little boy Pushes me Mommy said that how boys say they like me Year By Year I keep this in mind and everytime I end up crying wounded bruised and used Now im grown and had affection shown to me After all the bad boys I gave him a chance I showed him my heart but it all came crashing down Like waves of the ocean But thank you mommy because you taught me how to float
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Jan 25, 2021
Jan 25, 2021 at 9:27 AM UTC
Boys