Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#triggers
I like to hide sticky notes around the house that remind me Sometimes the notes sing to me in a melody that I can't ignore And the notes of perfume that cling to my nose are daunting My eyes glued to any glimpse of the notes that I find The taste of them give off a bitter note that I love and hate But the only note I can't seem to find is the one I can hold in my hands Must've lost it somewhere..
0
Apr 1
Apr 1, 2026 at 11:17 PM UTC
Her Notes
I stand in the shower Head filled Loud and pounding Only one sound Of the past Of the misery In my life I imagine a book I could write Of all your lies Top selling As I lay down And die Let me shorten it In a few simple lines I was a fool Yet also A mastermind I was a schemer A true believer I was a mad woman At only 14 I was hell in heels I was a devil Turning the wheels I was a liar And an accuser I was too sensitive Yet the abuser I was lazy And shallow Too giving Never hallow I was a taker But gave too much I was a manupulater Life ruiner And **** I was evil Filled with **** I was an attention ***** Simply too bored I was all these things And you were a king I was wicked And to blame For even mentioning Your precious name In my youth i became All these things I was named An evil little thing Never human Never a child Never feeling Only wild I was to blame So you all could maintain Your inner truth Your secret lies Your insecurities And why you cry I was a ***** A **** A liar A woman of false accusations So you could live your lives With no shame No regrets So you could lie And forget So you could accuse And abuse So you could do All the things You said i did To you So you could be clean And perfect Your life In no regrets I am a thing Never a child I am a ***** Never abandoned I am a twisted manipulative ***** Never a victim I am a daughter Never wanted Only used I am an alien Laying in the deep sea Of abuse I'm supposed to forget And move on I have let go Of the things He had done But I'll tell you What's really still Wrong Are all these things I became All these things I took the blame For I was stupid A fool I was disgusting A tool I was lonely And cold I was needy And easy to fold I was a child With nowhere to go I kept running Clinging to hope I was manipulated And burning In my throat I clung to the first person Who wrote. They lied And twisted my words They were a ***** In every meaning of the word They used my body My mind My hope Until i was nothing Laying there in water Letting go I was named All these things And i was a fool Because i believed But now i see I was hurting And begging for love I was a child With no wisdom from above I was alone In all this pain And the reason It still remains You. All of you And the stains you made To my name I was your Sister Daughter Friend I was a child But you all still pretend I was the person With evil intent So now I'm an alien Who looks back Yearning for truth For you all to see I am bleeding Needlessly I know And i see You'll never believe In UFOs You'll never believe So I should just let go But i believe And i see I was just a girl Who needed loved Just a girl Who needed a hug I am me Sometimes still a fool But I am me And I'll never again be a tool I am human Not an alien I name me I am a woman I am grown Still you all Should have known I will let go But never forget You named me Imperfect When I never Deserved It
0
Jan 28
Jan 28, 2026 at 2:36 AM UTC
Always a burden never just a child
I stand in the shower Head filled Loud and pounding Only one sound Of the past Of the misery In my life I imagine a book I could write Of all your lies Top selling As I lay down And die Let me shorten it In a few simple lines I was a fool Yet also A mastermind I was a schemer A true believer I was a mad woman At only 14 I was hell in heels I was a devil Turning the wheels I was a liar And an accuser I was too sensitive Yet the abuser I was lazy And shallow Too giving Never hallow I was a taker But gave too much I was a manupulater Life ruiner And **** I was evil Filled with **** I was an attention ***** Simply too bored I was all these things And you were a king I was wicked And to blame For even mentioning Your precious name In my youth i became All these things I was named An evil little thing Never human Never a child Never feeling Only wild I was to blame So you all could maintain Your inner truth Your secret lies Your insecurities And why you cry I was a ***** A **** A liar A woman of false accusations So you could live your lives With no shame No regrets So you could lie And forget So you could accuse And abuse So you could do All the things You said i did To you So you could be clean And perfect Your life In no regrets I am a thing Never a child I am a ***** Never abandoned I am a twisted manipulative ***** Never a victim I am a daughter Never wanted Only used I am an alien Laying in the deep sea Of abuse I'm supposed to forget And move on I have let go Of the things He had done But I'll tell you What's really still Wrong Are all these things I became All these things I took the blame For I was stupid A fool I was disgusting A tool I was lonely And cold I was needy And easy to fold I was a child With nowhere to go I kept running Clinging to hope I was manipulated And burning In my throat I clung to the first person Who wrote. They lied And twisted my words They were a ***** In every meaning of the word They used my body My mind My hope Until i was nothing Laying there in water Letting go I was named All these things And i was a fool Because i believed But now i see I was hurting And begging for love I was a child With no wisdom from above I was alone In all this pain And the reason It still remains You. All of you And the stains you made To my name I was your Sister Daughter Friend I was a child But you all still pretend I was the person With evil intent So now I'm an alien Who looks back Yearning for truth For you all to see I am bleeding Needlessly I know And i see You'll never believe In UFOs You'll never believe So I should just let go But i believe And i see I was just a girl Who needed loved Just a girl Who needed a hug I am me Sometimes still a fool But I am me And I'll never again be a tool I am human Not an alien I name me I am a woman I am grown Still you all Should have known I will let go But never forget You named me Imperfect When I never Deserved It
Continue reading...
194
I wake to the unfamiliar familiar: The sound of snowfall Books by Thoreau Snapshots of a roiling sea The stained-glass daybreak The dizzy framework of her warm body There are patterns in repeat: A kiss A reminisce A fleur-de-lis They Find me Bind me Intertwine with me I am winter, she whispered, I am spring In medias res, you shall fall for me all over again
0
Jan 9
Jan 9, 2026 at 4:08 AM UTC
Links in the Relapse Chain
Are you driving, Or being driven?
0
Nov 28, 2025
Nov 28, 2025 at 1:35 PM UTC
What’s the driver?
It's the unbridled excitement Joy washing over a little mind, a tiny soul Fast heart, catching words, losing breath It's the enthusiasm of listening Attention held for the sake of being enraptured Wide eyes, fidgeting hands, innocent eyes It's the space to try and fail and learning to try again Steadfast calm; room for mistakes into lessons Furrowed brow, gentle touch, try again It's the unregulated volume, big laughs and frivolity Comfort, ease, natural to take up space together Clenched stomachs, teary eyes, Relaxed It was "sit down, be quiet, not right now" Dismissal of a moment but shattering worth and desire Tight throat, quivering lip, silent steps It was "no back talk, always sarcastic, never disrespect" Enraged pores incite fear into obedience Neutral stare, shutting down, have no thoughts It was constant fear, coded footsteps and hypervigilance Always listening in an attempt to be prepared Tense muscles, quick movements, don't make a sound
0
Aug 20, 2025
Aug 20, 2025 at 9:46 AM UTC
Little Me
I pull a face when I see it pop up on my screen Another innocent "How are you?" I leave it unread Deleted Of course, he has no idea that I never wish to see nor hear from him again, lest I begin to tremble again
0
Aug 7, 2025
Aug 7, 2025 at 4:04 PM UTC
"How are you?"
Hello, My name is Steph And I am a domestic violence survivor. I remember telling a Social Worker That I was just collecting evidence For my own ****** trial. There were too many days Where I truly expected To die. Once upon a time, Common things like white trucks And orange safety gear And every single noise Sent a shiver of panic Down my spine. Now I think about it less, More like when a student Tells me about her situation And that she feels trapped, Just like I did. I guess this is what we call Healing.
0
Jun 18, 2025
Jun 18, 2025 at 11:40 PM UTC
Let's Call Them Baby Steps
One simple thought Igniting a wildfire One match that turns A whole world upside down We can pretend that it's not there It will burn deeper Cause it doesn't care A domino effect That's hard to stop It's a blind spot No way to grasp it, Change it, Make it disappear... The more we fight, The stronger it'll persevere, The more alive it is, Contagious pain And identification Will keep on breaking trust And sending us Into a black hole Of intoxication.
0
Jan 29, 2025
Jan 29, 2025 at 7:37 PM UTC
Intoxication
Your words bounce around my skull in the silence of night. Headphones, music, full volume just to try to drown them out. Even when it's so loud that my brain pulses to the rhythm of the bass, your words linger; plague. Platitudes and half excuses for the things you didn't do. Always trying to shift the blame that you placed on you. I have no need to place blame, I forgave your failings, like any who loves another would do. I listened to the words that poured from your mouth, as you spewed hatred for the love of my life. For years I spoke kindly and made allowances for trauma that triggered my own, yet you could never see that I was right there; standing in your corner. Years and still you haven't learned; Self-blame can't be shifted and doesn't go away... Until you figure out why you hate yourself and see that loving is the better way.
0
Dec 5, 2024
Dec 5, 2024 at 12:11 PM UTC
Words and Blame
No need for shallow chest breath I am safe I can breathe through my belly Deep, becoming regular Soothing, smoothing, slowing No need for organised thought I am shielded I can relax into this place Calm, becoming gentle Softening, swaying, sliding No need for clock watching Dali time only I can exist, chrono-sheltered Now, becoming ageless   Melting, muting, morphing Here… A door with round window Mellowing to Renoir-lens Glossy, smudgy, charm Hobbit-style architecture Familiar, shire-y, amiable Lit warm and soft A brown carpet bag Caressing the rich pile Sturdy, salvaged, true Tardis-like inner structure Dependable holder, infinite For weights and woe Smooth, even, stone stairs Descending in timeworn strength Secure, bendless, cool Delivering, guiding journey-way To ease and mend I tender-lift my bag Zip open for a prize On every step Each stair a healing game The bag a hungry friend To hold my heavy goods And bare them strong for me As I descend Step one is for fear Two for screaming Three for ache     with blurred-out meaning Four for panic Five dark-dread     that slither-twists through sleep in bed If guilt is six Then shame is seven     long blame-soaked school without a lesson Eight for pleading Nine for weeping Ten for wounds, and burns, and bleeding The bag now zipped, trapped weights and woe, is set down gently, as I go All grateful heart, and kindess-eyed Door opens as I walk outside
0
Oct 13, 2024
Oct 13, 2024 at 1:28 AM UTC
Visualisation for returning gently
it strikes several time a day —the dread— carves me out like a soft squash my torso becomes a vast painful cavity the will to live stares morosely down, frayed wires of puppet strings snap about my head the soul holds me paralyzed over the void lest I throw myself in      it is not my time I don’t remember how the episode passes I just know that it does and I am free to move again mechanical and numb through the day at least, for a few more hours
0
Jan 30, 2023
Jan 30, 2023 at 5:13 AM UTC
the dread
~_I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall in._ —Portia Nelson, "Autobiography in Five Short Chapters" My own four experiences with holes written October 5th, 2021 1. I walk down a road I fall into a hole This happens a few times I stop walking down roads. 2. I get tired of being stuck in one place I decide to try again. I walk down a road A different road than before I know holes can happen I keep my eyes on my feet Just in case. 3. I walk down roads I carefully keep a list of roads with holes It is always in my mind Is this a safe road? Will it be safe today? 4. I walk down a road with a friend I forget to check if it's a safe road We are talking and laughing Then I realize This is that very first road the one with that big hole. Did we not notice and walk around it? Did we float over it? Is the hole gone? Will it come back? So many questions. All I really know is I am grateful for the moments of not worrying about holes while laughing with a friend.
0
Oct 6, 2021
Oct 6, 2021 at 12:05 PM UTC
My own four experiences with holes
Why do you haunt me ghost Lingering, lurking, and watching your host Around every joyful corner you linger From every happy window you watch And from ever peripheral shadow you lurk You do not own me Yet you dangle a key As if to show my captivity In chains I am bound As memories fly around Nightmare is a better name For this haunting game Day lit terrors before my eyes Sunny momentarily, til you cover the skies A dark lit confusion Met with desperation All the unspoken screams Still rattle in my head Fear fills what were once dreams Panic now owns my bed A bed I wish to share With kindness and love But you lay there and stare
0
Apr 4, 2021
Apr 4, 2021 at 9:42 PM UTC
Trigger
All my desires they saturate me like a towel wrung out too many times drowning in unknown "solutions" my heart twisted limp to the point where the water just flows over me It tells me that what’s left to do is the ***** work the clean up the kind that might even leave an even bigger mess unless there is hope that with a shrug and a smug grin and a passionate rage someone is brave enough to tear this place of pain down burn through the house of empty dreams and lofty, stubborn hopes
0
Oct 26, 2020
Oct 26, 2020 at 12:48 AM UTC
Unrequited
the scent of eucalyptus smells like trauma and rooms with purple walls are challenging to breathe in and occasionally, I meet someone whose voice flies straight through my ears and rushes to my memories. I can't hear them. I can only hear my past. I know that to anyone who doesn't know me, I am confusing. you can tie me up and **** me hard. I like the pain. but touch my feet, and I will attack you. and I won't warn you. I won't tell you that once, an ex broke nine of my toes so I couldn't run away. you'll never know. you can smoke standing next to me. it wont bother me. I smoke too. but move your hand a little too fast while you're holding a lit cigarette or joint, and I will attack you. and I won't warn you. I won't show you the cigarette burn scars that he left on my skin. you'll never know. you can take me to a concert where the bass shakes the floor. I'd love that. the noise doesn't bother me at all. but there are some tunes that practicing musicians sometimes play on the drums. play those, and I will attack you. and I won't warn you. I won't tell you that my ****** was in a band. he was their drummer; maybe he still is. you'll never know. I panicked once in my sleep, and the man who I fell in love with tried to comfort me. I didn't recognize him. by the time I did, he had blood on his shirt dripping from his nose. I had blood on my knuckles. I didn't want to hurt him. I don't want to hurt anyone who I love. I don't want to attack you, or have to warn you that I might.' I'm not violent, I swear. that isn't me. I would never hurt you. but for a moment, when I hear or taste or smell or see something that triggers me, that isn't me. it's my body, yes, but it's not me inside. I have retreated deep inside of myself, and all that's left is a hollow shell made of my skin. for a moment, I become a person trying to survive a threat that is no longer there. for a moment, I won't know that it's you. I won't see you or feel you or hear you talking to me. because for a moment, you smell like trauma. for a moment, you make it challenging to breathe. for a moment, my brain won't register that you are you. all you are to me in those moments is another danger. I don't want to hurt you. it's the opposite. I want to escape so that you can't hurt me.
0
Oct 24, 2020
Oct 24, 2020 at 6:30 AM UTC
triggers
the scent of eucalyptus smells like trauma and rooms with purple walls are challenging to breathe in and occasionally, I meet someone whose voice flies straight through my ears and rushes to my memories. I can't hear them. I can only hear my past. I know that to anyone who doesn't know me, I am confusing. you can tie me up and **** me hard. I like the pain. but touch my feet, and I will attack you. and I won't warn you. I won't tell you that once, an ex broke nine of my toes so I couldn't run away. you'll never know. you can smoke standing next to me. it wont bother me. I smoke too. but move your hand a little too fast while you're holding a lit cigarette or joint, and I will attack you. and I won't warn you. I won't show you the cigarette burn scars that he left on my skin. you'll never know. you can take me to a concert where the bass shakes the floor. I'd love that. the noise doesn't bother me at all. but there are some tunes that practicing musicians sometimes play on the drums. play those, and I will attack you. and I won't warn you. I won't tell you that my ****** was in a band. he was their drummer; maybe he still is. you'll never know. I panicked once in my sleep, and the man who I fell in love with tried to comfort me. I didn't recognize him. by the time I did, he had blood on his shirt dripping from his nose. I had blood on my knuckles. I didn't want to hurt him. I don't want to hurt anyone who I love. I don't want to attack you, or have to warn you that I might.' I'm not violent, I swear. that isn't me. I would never hurt you. but for a moment, when I hear or taste or smell or see something that triggers me, that isn't me. it's my body, yes, but it's not me inside. I have retreated deep inside of myself, and all that's left is a hollow shell made of my skin. for a moment, I become a person trying to survive a threat that is no longer there. for a moment, I won't know that it's you. I won't see you or feel you or hear you talking to me. because for a moment, you smell like trauma. for a moment, you make it challenging to breathe. for a moment, my brain won't register that you are you. all you are to me in those moments is another danger. I don't want to hurt you. it's the opposite. I want to escape so that you can't hurt me.
Continue reading...
105
Finally relaxing on my high-rise roof I notice you across the street on your balcony seemingly aloof listening to vintage Carly Simon, “That’s the Way I’ve Always Heard it Should Be” You stare my way and energetically waive I hesitate, smile and then return the gesture As if on cue you stand and press against the railing Still smiling as my heart beats faster "What's your name?" you playfully cry out "Who wants to know?" is my surprising reply ~Who really am I? Sudden flashbacks hijack my thinking ~Song lyrics dredging up buried memories… Why is this happening? Why am I sinking? ~Triggered I hear your beseeching, unintelligible shouts as I retreat Painful memories open like an oubliette under my feet— p l u n g i n g Lost and languishing in isolation's labyrinth © 2020 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved. #
0
Aug 8, 2020
Aug 8, 2020 at 12:53 AM UTC
Triggered
Where are the source of your thoughts Contesting emotional triggers Consider those eyelids to flicker Additional context adds stress As different paths stretch us apart Sleep deep within these sheets Another drill to overcome The next hurdle and then some Distracted by less with small progressive steps A learning tool for all Dig away at the molehills Digress with flexed biceps Reminded to incorporate rest
0
Jul 30, 2020
Jul 30, 2020 at 1:23 PM UTC
Entangled
Confrontations of candor Bittersweet release Relentless ghosts whisper “The devil is in the details” Chemical haze; colored sands of stark contrast I can’t seem to sift through Tight grips White knuckled grasping It runs through my fingertips regardless A heart stitched together with scar tissue Thick, white lines etched carefully on thighs If my heart grows Will I find stretch marks there, too? Silky smooth tracing With bony fingertips The birth of fresh skin cells Each year more and more Skin dissolves into dust from before It runs through my fingertips regardless The girl with the protruding rib cage With fire just behind Blue-green, ever-shifting eyes She branded passion into her arms With a lit cigarette Eyes that only saw black or white Torment suffered red Pain inflicted blue Fused into monochrome shades of slate Digging up her grave Clawing at the dirt and sand Until blood runs down soft hands Struggling to separate the two Dry, dry sand It slips through my fingertips regardless
0
Jun 30, 2020
Jun 30, 2020 at 12:14 PM UTC
Confrontations of Candor
Those who hurt you most be muses to the soul pressing buttons you be wearing telling of an un-declaring
0
Jun 15, 2020
Jun 15, 2020 at 11:57 AM UTC
Triggers
I'm okay Really I am I'm over it I can talk about it without shedding a tear I can move on without fear Have I forgiven him? We laugh and talk most times than not The scars lay dormant Then a whisper The scars are scratched Wounds reopened I relive the nightmare Then comes the shadow Of pain and uncertainty Conflicting emotions Thirst for peace and vengeance It seems my demons follow me And no matter how much I try I can't escape them For the triggers are my shadow And they're never far behind.
0
Apr 24, 2020
Apr 24, 2020 at 5:46 AM UTC
Triggers
Absence is a strange occurrence, a shapeshifter manifesting in the most trivial things. A presence where there is none. Something never entirely gone.
0
Nov 20, 2019
Nov 20, 2019 at 10:21 AM UTC
Untitled
Fears created by years and years of trauma and abuse and manipulation. Triggered by the smallest thing. I’m sorry.
0
Sep 7, 2019
Sep 7, 2019 at 2:44 AM UTC
I’ve quit lying to myself that I’ve recovered.