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#unacceptable
(Haiku x 5) This dark shines so bright Blinding, unacceptable Eyes hide from its light. Truths are bad, sad, grim, Taunting, stinging, destroying, Slashing-poor heart bleeds. Pain, shame, we cover, Heart, shoulders, pulled down lower, Unbearable...for, Murmurs are like smoke, Wind-blown...spreading...absorbed.....but, Wise minds understand. So, breathe....part curtains Sun, wind, shall take charge...believe! The truth sets us free! Sally Copyright 2015 Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
0
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 3:28 PM UTC
The Truth
unlock your senses to what you believe is virtuous! Do not lock yourselves away thinking that everything is alright or that it will figure itself out! Stand up to what you know is unacceptable! Do not wait for the next man to stand up for you because he is thinking you'll do the same! Stand up for your family, stand up for your neighbor, and stand up for your nation!
0
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 9:55 AM UTC
Freedom
you said I'm complicated, i say you're confusing, you said you don't know what I'm thinking, i say you never want to know what I'm thinking, you said you rather be friends, i say I want it to be more, you said you wanted to talk, i say I don't really feel like it, you said you're not prepared to love anyone, I say you're just not prepared to reject me properly. what's the point in this game of love, if both of us can't agree to the same **** thing.
0
Dec 16, 2017
Dec 16, 2017 at 11:35 AM UTC
you said love; i say love
It starts like a whisper threadbare promises, soft hands hiding clenched fists beneath the skin, bruises bloom quietly, seeds of silence sowed in the dark corners of a home. A smile fractured at the edge, where love's architecture crumbles, and the voice that was once free is twisted into the shape of a question: Am I not enough? A door slams, not in anger but in fear. The echo swells in the bones, stays in the walls, turns a house into a prison where every footstep is weighed with caution, a rhythm of dread, beating louder than the heart. The world outside spins on, but inside; there is no time, no refuge, no escape. Even sleep is just another war fought alone, dreams choked by the shadow creeping over pillowcases and quiet sighs. And yet, the grasp tightens with a smile. It is tender, this violence, a slow suffocation dressed as affection, coated in apologies that evaporate before they touch the air. It doesn't arrive with storms, but with lullabies that cut deeper than screams ever could. What is love in a house that forgets the meaning of sanctuary? Where the windows close to keep the world out and the mirrors crack under the weight of too many lies told in silence? It hides in plain sight, in the slow erosion of spirit, in the small sacrifices of self until nothing remains but an echo, a ghost tethered to the earth by fear, too afraid to walk into the light and too tired to fight the shadows that cling like a second skin. And the world wonders: Why didn't they leave? But it's not the leaving it's the unraveling. Each thread of identity, each step towards the door, pulls against a gravity that speaks in the quiet voice of terror: You'll never make it out. You're already gone. Still, in the deepest night, there's a flicker, a spark, a refusal to be fully extinguished. The insidious grasp weakens, as the heartbeat that remains remembers its strength, knows that hands meant to hold do not leave scars. And someday, a door will open. The house will breathe again, and the quiet will become a sanctuary once more.
0
Oct 24, 2024
Oct 24, 2024 at 6:33 PM UTC
Insidious Grasp (DV)
It starts like a whisper threadbare promises, soft hands hiding clenched fists beneath the skin, bruises bloom quietly, seeds of silence sowed in the dark corners of a home. A smile fractured at the edge, where love's architecture crumbles, and the voice that was once free is twisted into the shape of a question: Am I not enough? A door slams, not in anger but in fear. The echo swells in the bones, stays in the walls, turns a house into a prison where every footstep is weighed with caution, a rhythm of dread, beating louder than the heart. The world outside spins on, but inside; there is no time, no refuge, no escape. Even sleep is just another war fought alone, dreams choked by the shadow creeping over pillowcases and quiet sighs. And yet, the grasp tightens with a smile. It is tender, this violence, a slow suffocation dressed as affection, coated in apologies that evaporate before they touch the air. It doesn't arrive with storms, but with lullabies that cut deeper than screams ever could. What is love in a house that forgets the meaning of sanctuary? Where the windows close to keep the world out and the mirrors crack under the weight of too many lies told in silence? It hides in plain sight, in the slow erosion of spirit, in the small sacrifices of self until nothing remains but an echo, a ghost tethered to the earth by fear, too afraid to walk into the light and too tired to fight the shadows that cling like a second skin. And the world wonders: Why didn't they leave? But it's not the leaving it's the unraveling. Each thread of identity, each step towards the door, pulls against a gravity that speaks in the quiet voice of terror: You'll never make it out. You're already gone. Still, in the deepest night, there's a flicker, a spark, a refusal to be fully extinguished. The insidious grasp weakens, as the heartbeat that remains remembers its strength, knows that hands meant to hold do not leave scars. And someday, a door will open. The house will breathe again, and the quiet will become a sanctuary once more.
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70
Change the Changeable, Accept the unchangeable, and remove yourself from the Unacceptable
0
Jan 8, 2019
Jan 8, 2019 at 10:32 PM UTC
Change
9:38am 9:39am Fri Sep 18 oft in passing, remarque~ed on this ironic balance, for when I amortize my emptiness emotion to dregs, stomach acid, am fully dispersed, only molecules bubbling, a non~solid basement, steel myself, steal myself, for **** words to be a~rushing into. voids unacceptable, and control of my mental physiology is overinflated, overridden. by double dd's, that brook no rationalization, too late, a new poem is in process of being nationalized, and there is no recourse, but the on/off switch so too deep in my innards, my gizzards, a deep unreachable, and my master sends his regrets, sends two hymns^ of comforting voices singing words that others wrote, but they soak into me in other worlds of bewildering comforting
0
Oct 26, 2025
Oct 26, 2025 at 4:21 PM UTC
voids unacceptable and unaccompanied ...