#tragically - Hello Poetry

When I was nine years old, my mother threw me into the shower. Holding the removable shower facet in my face and proceeded to drown me. This wasn’t a regular occurrence, fully clothed body and screaming for her to stop. Choking, crying as this water cascaded into my open mouth while I struggled against the grasp of a plump body. This scene, shattering protrusion of fear and betrayal. A woman clawing out of flesh from the inside. “Don’t hurt her, she’s your daughter” one voice said but the urge was too strong. I knew this woman, as she ripped me sleeping from my bedroom. The smaller room in a two bedroom duplex adjacent to the bathroom and not very far. “God wants me to do this”echoed repeatedly. My brain registers the reality that she doesn’t intend to hurt me but I can’t breathe. This only lasts a few minutes, she has done the lords work of cleansing the evil from me. My mother apologizes profusely, but she is still my mother. She holds me and dries me off. I cry. The moment passes. And everything is normal.

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Jun 18, 2019

Jun 18, 2019 at 5:40 AM UTC

RhetoricalCuriosity

Someone else

When I was nine years old, my mother threw me into the shower. Holding the removable shower facet in my face and proceeded to drown me. This wasn’t a regular occurrence, fully clothed body and screaming for her to stop. Choking, crying as this water cascaded into my open mouth while I struggled against the grasp of a plump body. This scene, shattering protrusion of fear and betrayal. A woman clawing out of flesh from the inside. “Don’t hurt her, she’s your daughter” one voice said but the urge was too strong. I knew this woman, as she ripped me sleeping from my bedroom. The smaller room in a two bedroom duplex adjacent to the bathroom and not very far. “God wants me to do this”echoed repeatedly. My brain registers the reality that she doesn’t intend to hurt me but I can’t breathe. This only lasts a few minutes, she has done the lords work of cleansing the evil from me. My mother apologizes profusely, but she is still my mother. She holds me and dries me off. I cry. The moment passes. And everything is normal.

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It was a warm soothing October day A nation mourned your loss The voice of Canada Soundtrack to everyone’s summer everyone’s heartbreak Everyone’s love A reason to celebrate It was a beautiful day Tragically sick It’s no joke We miss you Gord, We needed someone like you Someone who told the world What we can do. Canada misses you And a year later it’s still the same So pick up the **** And light it up The Tragically hip Here to **** **** up. (Canada legalized **** on Gords death day)

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Oct 16, 2018

Oct 16, 2018 at 5:41 PM UTC

Greyday

Tragically sick

It was a warm soothing October day A nation mourned your loss The voice of Canada Soundtrack to everyone’s summer everyone’s heartbreak Everyone’s love A reason to celebrate It was a beautiful day Tragically sick It’s no joke We miss you Gord, We needed someone like you Someone who told the world What we can do. Canada misses you And a year later it’s still the same So pick up the **** And light it up The Tragically hip Here to **** **** up. (Canada legalized **** on Gords death day)

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I hate the term Tragically beautiful. If you find something beautiful about my face or me as a person, Say it. Just say it Quit using that dumb term it's as good as romanticising self harm and depression. I will try to help you through your recovery But I won't kiss your scars. I will lose my mind when I realise that you are hurting yourself. There is nothing Tragically beautiful about depressed humans or humans who are just having a hard time. If something about that human is tragically beautiful, try making 'em happy. Make 'em laugh. See through them. and you might find some real beauty

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Oct 23, 2014

Oct 23, 2014 at 5:35 AM UTC

andwhentheshipsails

Rant from an angry poet

I hate the term Tragically beautiful. If you find something beautiful about my face or me as a person, Say it. Just say it Quit using that dumb term it's as good as romanticising self harm and depression. I will try to help you through your recovery But I won't kiss your scars. I will lose my mind when I realise that you are hurting yourself. There is nothing Tragically beautiful about depressed humans or humans who are just having a hard time. If something about that human is tragically beautiful, try making 'em happy. Make 'em laugh. See through them. and you might find some real beauty

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