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 1d Suman Ipe
Kai
I'm not a mere object you can use
I'm not a mere puppet you can use
I'm tired of this
I'm tired of getting used like this
Like I'm everyone's slave
People think that they can get away with treating me like a slave,
Because they can
People think they can use me, then discard me,
Because they can
Why can't people see?
Why can't parents teach their children to act better?
Why can't parents teach their children to write a letter?
To all of the other kids that their child has harmed
To all of the other kids that their child has used

It isn't fun being used
It feels like hell being used

Day by day,
May to May,
Year to year,
Tears turn into fear,
Fear of getting used again
Fear turns into pain,
Emotional pain from being used turns into trust issues
This is kind of like the poem "Advantage", a poem I made. I just had the random idea to vent my trauma again into a poem so.... 🤭
The only thing worse
Than pulling the trigger
Is spending your entire Life
With a barrel on your mouth
Just waiting for that 'bang'
P.s. This is not a poem about suicide. It's about expectations. About living with a heavy burden and never being able to set free of it.
Be the raindrops that fall from the sky,
That brings peace and tranquility to my mind,
Be the clouds from up above that shade me from the harsh sun,
Associate yourself with the beautiful dew that brings vibrant green to the plants,
Be the calm after the storm that restores peace in my heart and the land,

Smile like the rainbow when the clouds part,
Let in soft rays from the sun as the grey fades,
And most importantly,
Remind me of the rain.
Cut my tongue
And Slip me poison
Strike a match
And watch me burn

I yearn for nothing
Its abysmal
So scorch my flesh
And warp my broken mind

Intimate darkness
Before your existence
intimate darkness
After
Take comfort in death and live a good live while you still can
I would be this gentle mist that lingers
On autumn’s flowered field—
Yet I wish I could be a golden sunbeam,
Painting my lover's lashes in a gilded haze.
But that is not me. With gentle kisses,
I **** the summer’s flowers;
I am the coldness they fear.
I wrap the earth within my arms, but blind its sight—
My love summons winter’s night to arrive,
Stilling the pulse of all that once breathed life.
I swear my love brings death to every chamber,
But maybe that is the price we’re meant to pay.
For love and pain have always been entwined,
And when we bleed, as everyone must one day,
We will bleed as one.

-Sonja Kettunen (ig: @sojafoxpoetry)
Got inspired? :)

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