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Bongani Sep 9
I close my eyes
All the world cries goes silent
As i pray for this violent
Among people to end
We are one
Lets love one another
Stop abusing
And misusing our women
As we are men
We should protect and protest against violence and help those who are voiceless
To not feel less as they experience the pain of being depressed
Nothing in their eyes seem to impress
As i pray.....
Violence is not answer..
Johnny walker Nov 2018
When I was a kid I used to
hear voices, nobody In my
family ever believed me, to
this very day, I say they were voices of my Guardian
During child abuse when locked In the dark alone by my mother, I would hear the voices of In the distance gradually becoming
I would hear them gathered around they were talking about my mother how they could stop her abusing me telling me to be strong that I would survive this abuse
And that I needed to carry on for life had a purpose and would have meaning In the coming years, I believe they were telling me of a the
I'd be married and have a son but would be years to come and go before this to happen and I'd suffer but would be rewarded If
I was patient
I was only 3 years old at the time but at the age 45 I heard the voices again having not heard them In over 42 years
And that's when the voices told me to write a letter to my wife to be, or regret not doing so for the rest of my
And I believe that's what my Guardian Angel was telling all those years
ago survive the
For one day you'll be
happy and reap the rewards, the moral of my
story don't always fear the voices heard In your head they be me your Guardian Angels come to rescue
Don't always fear your voices In your head for they may be the voices of Guardian Angel come to rescue you from your demons
Empire Aug 18
You do realize you’re a horrible person,
Don’t you?
Seeking out the pain of others
To stress you, excite you
To trigger you
Abusing your empathy
Do you really just want to be in constant pain?
That can be arranged, you know
They just won’t like it.
There will be consequences
Everything has so many ****
Why can’t I just...
Why can’t you just be free?
Just have some ******* fun??
Why is this what I am reduced to?
You don’t ******* get it
Everything you’ve done
To “protect” me
To shield me

I want to break free of my captivity
Of my strangling naivety
Bust the hinges off my cage
A violent escape
And if I get there
If I reach that point,
I will most certainly
Leave calamity in my wake.
I think my darker side wants some attention...
Ivette Nov 2018
You told me that I was spoiled? Why out of all people, you chose me? For someone that didn't have anything and to finally have happiness and to not be afraid to show it I am now spoiled?

I used to be homeless, no money, no clothes, I used to steal everything to get what we needed. My family of six at the time, now seven with my dear brother came into the world.

You don't know my story! Calling me spoiled just because I get five dollars to take to school everyday??? When before I had to steal what I wanted because I didn't even have a nickel?

Calling me naive even though it was me lying back then to get what I wanted. Me not believing anyone at all because I would be afraid to be kidnapped sleeping on the park bench?

Saying I have it easy? REALLY? I HAVE IT EASY!!!!???!!?!?!

Before I didn't have nothing. My mom was pregnant when her and my dad were abusing the drugs! Then I went into Foster Care and always getting in arguments because I wasn't at all used to having rules, and with them abusing the power and using me for the money they receive for my life!

You say your my best friend but you never ask me how I am doing? You don't think saying these things will take an impact on my feelings.?

Calling me spoiled and that I don't care! When I promised myself that I will help the poor, the kids in Foster Care, the ones who live on the street and praying everyday that they'll find something good to eat!

You saying that I am one of those people just hurt me so bad that in that moment I swear I wanted to punch your face so bad. I am not a bad person. I am not spoiled.

I am who I believe I am. A good person that went through torture and still going through the day with a smile even when I cried the most tears. I guess I may hide it well for you to think that but you shouldn't judge like how I don't judge you my friend.

I am not trying to call you out which is why I don't say you're name.
I promise.

To everyone though you have to notice the story behind every face!
Don't just assume right away or make any assumptions.
Beyond that happy attitude, that smile, and those bright eyes.
Might possibly be pain, they may be going through something or they just got out of a horrible situation and is just trying to live in the present to forget about it!

Take me for example, I grew up with nothing but parents who were addicted to Crystal **** with three brothers at the time. Became homeless and being bullied at school then going to Foster Care. After that my baby brother was born.

A year from now everything is fine. We are all back into the happy family that we once were. My parents got better and the baby is fine. Right now I am trying to forget, everyday I am the happiest I can possibly be.

Notice the story of everyone, if you can't then just ask.

I am not spoiled, I am not a brat, or a conceded person. I am me
Please, this is a true story, this is all true, but the reason I wrote this is yes because someone did call me those things, so I decided to write a partial back story of my life. Just to show that everyone has something in their life that they don't talk much about but still sensitive too. Please everyone don't just right away think you know someone.
BoringBoy Mar 22
Desperately grabbing on to imaginary safety, hoping that maybe
just maybe, they'll save me.

This is no virtual reality, but it's hard to see reality when the fast pacing of ghosts and goblins are racing to neglect you as if you weren't ever here, to begin with...

This endless stress I'm feeling is a confession of my LACK of pity
because I feel like it's fitting for this circular way of ending

Spinning in this pattern
Fending for myself on an endless pasture
Demons and shadows, I call those the normal
Opposing humanity that lacks reality
Blinded by the constant wall we bring together
Formally restraining the legs, because we think it's better

"What's the weather"
A constant concoction of tales and tallies for the repeating day
Like a feather, the weight of these lifeless questions couldn't keep the ocean at bay

"What else is there to say"

It's not about what you say that will matter anyway,
Although the power of words is often underestimated,
Keep in mind whom invests in you and what you say,
For those will be you're biggest assets and liabilities.

But if you insist, say what you value, and value what you say,
Because your actions will amount to what comes from them at the end of the day,

Constantly tiptoeing over words like an *** drunk and stumbling over grass

We value the past, abusing it until we've drained it of any real mass it once had, excusing what we do, based upon the past

Forgetting that the past is so close yet fastly becoming the last player in this race in time,

What kind of journey must we take to pick what we say, what we do, what we feel, what we value,

giving our value to ourselves, excusing someone else's hell and making it about an experience that we still dwell on,

our experience

forgetting the rotating reality around us never really rotated around us, but it around it, around it, which we are apart of, silently sending chaos into its sight as we see fit

fright...we should feel because this multiple concoction of words is really a riddle, hidden message, pleading for safety, which may never come, fiddling my thumbs as I write this passage,

Paving a plea that may one day be seen and actually pondered...
Or maybe left, neglected, as expected, not graced even lightly with another soul's wonder.
Bob B Sep 26
Finally, you did it, Congress!
WHAT took you so long?
For almost three years you've dealt with a man
Who doesn't know right from wrong.

Lying to us and abusing his power
Since day number one,
The man has wreaked inordinate damage.
Can it be undone?

Asking a foreign power for help
To win the next election
Shows how his impropriety
Is carried out to perfection.

Of course he'll scream, "Witch hunt! Witch hunt!"
That's his usual ploy.
He'll play the martyr to his fans
And be the whipping boy.

His team's composed of so many lackeys
Nearly as base as he
Who are willing to lie to protect him
To the nth degree.

Some people were slow to come
On board the impeachment train.
Now the momentum ought to be
Easy to sustain.

Will Trump receive support from his toadies
In Congress? You bet he will.
Although they’ve drunk the Kool-Aid, they
Haven’t had their fill.

There are members of Congress who
Never will condemn
Trump’s devious behavior! Well,
Shame on all of them!

Hop on board the train when it
Reaches the nearest station.
It’s for the sake of all of us that
It reach its destination!

-by Bob B (9-26-19)
once upon a time i thought pain would disappear if i ignored it,
i called emotions dramatic, and numbness strength-
blocking memories chasing fantasies sinking deeper into insanity
insanity became my paradise- i was safe there
from all my regrets, all of my shame, i could forget
at first i felt in control
then i didn’t feel a thing
and my heart started to sing
a song of silence, numbness overtook my life my memory my love all I had inside
everything i wanted i could not find
underwater, on autopilot i couldn’t find the switch
it happened like this:
step one:
i gave my heart away,
he stomped on it,
and him, and him, and him, and him, and him, and him too
step two:
i fell into a pattern
and a few different vicious cycles
a piece here- a piece there, i gave away my soul
my heart and my mind were nothing but tools in all the wrong hands
by this time all i had was worthless to me,
abusing and being abused not one of us cared,
about a thing but ourselves I was constantly scared
what i saw through blank stares occupied most of my mind
using hearts and bodies as a way pass time
i offered distraction to those who gave it to me,
my distraction and my distractions were never enough
step three
i aimed a little higher-
trying to save everyone else though i couldn’t save myself
nothing was enough especially not my help
“the mess tries to clean up everyone else
what a joke, she can’t even help herself! "
searching for hope in a hopeless world
crafting happiness through optimistic words-
holding onto feelings of elation in a fallen creation  
hope, hopeless, hope, hopeless,
a roller coaster of numbed out watered down emotion and reality - cycles of pretending that I was not broken or that i knew a thing
chasing freedom not knowing what to call it
Not knowing He had a name
Chasing truth without being sure there even was one
Never heard of grace for my shame
Step four
I heard it
For the first time
I heard Him
But I still did the same thing
See I got it all in my head,
I knew it jesus saved me from the dead
But all the pain that was in me, I was like "you can't have THAT."
My numbness is what I held on to,
It wasn't until I said father help me give it all to you
step 5
like to a counselor i poured out my heart
all of my pain i fell apart
screaming about how bad it hurt
screaming and crying and shaking my fist
about wounds i thought were long healed,
i didn’t know until i spoke the words to my savior
there was still so much in me i didn’t wanna feel
but the father of all comfort spoke in ways i didn’t know he could
told me he loved me and would never hurt me or lie
that he was with me the entire time
i went from crying to smiling
laughing in joy
that the god of the universe didn’t see me as some toy
that he cared enough to reach down into the depths of my heart
and heal the things that were buried under layers of rock
and it made me question why i ever held anything back
step 6
turning to him instead of running from pain
i’m still learning and crawling my way
towards this love i need to know more about
the one with the fountains of living water poured out for me,
an outstretched arm, an ear waiting to listen
to the things that i don’t want to mention
and i’ve come to know my depression
is nothing more than running in the wrong direction.
Jamie Lee Sep 2018
I'm faced with realities,
that were only known,
as concepts.

Stuck in this state;
a combination of fascination,
mourning and inner chaos.

After a decade and a half,
of abusing those three words,
the real thing appears.

I don't recognize it's face,
nothing about it seems familiar.
I've been broken, for so long -
did I ever know what love is?

Is it wanting happiness for her,
even if it means without me?
Is it hoping someone can heal,
the damage I've caused her?

A month of absence,
and she is still my focus.
Accepted or not,
the truth has arrived.

I wish it could have been different.
I wish that I could still hold her,
and tell her softly, that,
I still love her.

I will always love her,
even now,
as I let her go.
It's a strange concept to have found what I consider to be true love at such an age in life, and even more of a tragedy, that it didn't last.
labyrinth Oct 10
This is not even a poem, call it a brief story
Showing you how bad the situation will be

Doers and Watchers, as far as I can see
Are sole perpetrators of this class 1 felony,

I’ve tried to portray them as simple as possible
So every single one of you can hold them responsible

Let’s take a deeper look, we may find a solution
Before we die in this environmental pollution

Clean is such a nice word, especially with air
Some purposely don’t get it, mainly profiteer

I’m having hard time to understand how come
People neglect seeing the devastating outcome

Of an ecosystem, that is breaking down
We’re stuck in this weary, alarming countdown

Earth’s been around for 4.5 billion years
In a couple of centuries, wounds in all spheres

Technology is fine I guess, gave us a new angle
It’s the ******* money we just can’t handle

The elite won’t lift a finger for the sake of masses
But soon they’ll have to do it, to cover their *****

Greedy, hungry, and egocentric *******
Urging climate apocalypse, these money masters

Trying to accumulate cash, power and chairs
With appalling ignorance of the world’s real heirs

Think about it! The only crowds of the future
Because of their advantageous nature

Are innocent kids along with the youngsters
Only if they can survive these cruel gangsters

I’ve seen their honor were melting down faster
Than the arctic region. Now, that’s real disaster

The mathematics whispers in my ear saying that
If part of the surplus that the richest had

Could be used against, say; global-warming
There would be no need for any prior warning

To save the mother earth from any danger
Before we turn it into a toxic stranger

Or else people will extinct with a lot of money
I know it sounds sad but also pretty funny

The end seems close, maybe in our life time
I honestly cannot think of a bigger crime

We’re not even aware of that. It’s a crying shame
Like we have nothing to do with it and aliens are to blame

Green and blue are both becoming pale gray
Few mind that, the rest turn their eyes away

It is already costing us a pretty penny
Why wait for digging graves for more than many

We need to change the dictionary we’re using
It is self-destructive and nature-abusing

A good bank for instance is next to a river
Internalize that well, thus you can deliver

Why talk about climate, what’s with all the huff
How about hunger, poverty and bunch of other stuff

I’m not saying that they are not of vital importance
Come to think of it, suppose the order of precedence

Suggests nature first, because without mother-earth
No nothing else will ever have a date of birth

Don’t listen to any of those blatant factions
And without-further-ado, take necessary actions

It means a lot to terra, it can’t thank you enough
Believe me, nothing to fuss about, nor is there a bluff

Convincing even one soul, I mean, a single person
Before above troubles deepen and/or worsen

Cannot be underestimated. Nor can it be judged
I know for sure that nothing’s left to be fudged

This lone writing hopefully, aiming at the subject
May encourage someone to rise and further object

It’s up to you my friend to give a **** or not
This humble work proves that I’ve at least tried

Other methods were tested and results are pathetic
That’s why Labyrinth’s warning you in a way so poetic

You might as well quit. But what if you liked the skit.
If so, be my guest and start spreading it
Pending copyright process
Pyrrha Apr 26
Abusing his kindness
Is like giving a child a kite
Then cutting the string
Jet Mar 28
Its been two weeks since I’ve been using .. and honestly, I thought I could never stop abusing. The first time I used, I was so high. It made me believe you were the cure to all my pain so I sat there and saw how you started controlling my brain. I felt so happy, so in love that I felt like I could fly. I started using more, just to escape from the problems in the real world. I was floating away to another dimension, possibly my dream world. It became part of my routine, if I didn’t have my daily dose, I caused a scene! Everyone said this drug had me afflicted but nah, nah... you think I could be addicted? ... No! I swear im fine, I promise. But ayo, you think I can get another line?

Look at me, look at the person I came out to be, this wasn’t the person I wanted you to see. Please wait, one more date, one more line to replace the pain. I swear ill give you all my love in exchange.
But now I’m all alone, an my heart feels like its becoming stone. I’m keeping all these feelings in my chest and the demons surrounding me are playing with my emotions like some game of chess...

But you know what?
The recovery of this crave will release my brain from being your slave. You made me believe all the lies you said, as my addiction for you just spread. But while I cried, I came to recognize, the love you had me was always just a lie.

A lie I was addicted to.
kirk Oct 2018
Who owns Jack Jones, is he part of your clan?
Does Mr Jones actually exist, is he a real live man
Why does he resemble Boyd, is this part of his plan
Jack is such a manly name, but so is Phil and Stan

Don't use "Boy" within your name, you'll impose an adult ban
Boyish names are not much good, there not like John or Dan
You wouldn't call grandfathers boys, or say girl to your nan
Stop abusing ol' Jack Jones, and avoid Boyd if you can

Boyd is easy to avoid, its easier than we thought
An alteration has took place, but that's what Boyd has sought
Elusiveness is not too smart, because already you've been caught
We've worked out who Jack Jones is, and it accounts to nought

Your lacking iron clad alibis, nothing is set in wrought
It's criminal to own Jack Jones, so please would you abort
No rights to use another name, your being a bad sport
Is Boyd considered as a name, or is it "boy" for short

Intellect is not too strong, that's only what you think
Using an alias is unwise, if you show a photo link
Why bother changing to Jack Jones, how low you gonna sink
Your mother's been kept in the dark, about releasing your white ink

Is Jack Jones the one, who's been sinking in the pink?
Wasn't it Boyd's low ***** count, that went inside the mink?
You are skating on thin ice, when there's cracks in the rink
Just who owns Jack Jones, when Boyd's back from the brink

Identities are broken, just what did you think you'd gain
Your just a ******* imbecile, to think you'd relieve the strain
You can't hide yourself away, you must be quite insane
It's not as though your mother lives, in germany or Spain

Everyone knows who you are, it's in your face and plain
It is just pathetic to make Jack Jones the main
Jack Jones is just too common, you should try a name like shane
Just don't **** about with names, or Jack Jones will be jocks Jane

Your ashamed of what you've done, you try to skulk and hide
You didn't mind the ******, or having your fun ride
Be a man and not a "Boyd", it's time to turn the tide
Come on Boyd you did not avoid, legs that were astride

Morality is in pursuit, but you have no sense of pride
Who's Jack Jones supposed to be, now  sperms slid down the slide
Other aliases may exist, do you have bits on the side
Or are you only interested, when things are open wide

Is Jack Jones the father, or is he born from rubber clones
Boyd is the spitting image, he's been seen on mobile phones
Hostile namesake takeovers, do you have *** slaves and drones
There's no sense in your deception, because this isn't Game of Thrones

We don't want identities stolen, you borrow names like loans
Jack's already being used, it's a name that someone owns
Maybe names can hurt you, as well as sticks and stones
So cease in your activities , you don't know who owns Jack Jones
This poem is dedicated to Mandy who influenced its writing
Billy 13 Jul 2
To truly live in this world you must break the rules.
It's not being rebellious, just not following fools.
Some laws are more funny that your favourite joke.
You don't mean to be cruel when you laugh at law abiding folk.
Citizens that sit down while watching stand up.
Who stand up and clap for politicians that are corrupt.
Who lye in there bed and live a lie.
Who don't understand what it is to live free or die.
Believing the news without any proof.
Twenty first propaganda which rarely tells the truth.
Headlines now read like Donald trump's tweets.
Social media has caused the printed word to face endless defeats.
The news paper used to be called tomorrows fish and chip paper.
Now the tabloids have met there maker.
Every journalist now has a blog.
There own published unedited dialogue.
That spreads like a virus the moment they post.
An infection that has turned investigative journalism into a ghost.
Truth seekers willing to die for a conspiracy they search to uncover.
Raiding thru politicians bins for something to discover.
Banana peels, stall Milk and piecing together shredded documents.
Exposing secrets and lies that were shared in confidence.
**** the messenger sent a message.
What they done to Gary Webb was excessive.
Shot twice in the head and ruled as sucide.
Physically impossible and covered up from inside.
No one questioned what is so dangerous that they are trying to hide.
Government agency behind the epidemic of crack.
A foreign uprising that they secretly back.
A secret war to change who is in power.
South Central LA this poison did quickly devour.
This is the government you voted into place.
Ronald Reagan lies exposed, an actor's disgrace.
Our government is ruled from number ten.
Our future is voted for in the shadow of big Ben.
The houses of parliament, guy fox had the right idea.
Blow up the silver spooned rich boys who spout verbal diarrhea.
The working class is fate is in the hands of those that have never worked a day in their lives.
Who believe an honest days living is getting away with cheating on their taxes and wives.
These are the people who's rules were ment to follow.
Sexually abusing a pig by accident is a lie that's hard to swallow.
It's taken 2 years and still we are part of the European Union.
While there on there knees, mouth open pretending it a holy communion.
Swallowing any thing that's put in their mouth.
Our country is ruled by these criminals in the south.
So follow there example and go commit a crime.
It's the only way in life to have a real good time.
A father is your very first love
From the moment you wrap
Your small nimble fingers around
Just one of his
To the first moment he holds you
To the moment he hits you
The moment he yells of the hate he holds for you
You're very first love
The first person to wish you werent born
The first person to kick you at your low
He is your very first love
The man before men
From the moment he drunkenly holds you down
The first wift of cold beer that drips off his moustache
As he roars curses directed at you
A young girls first love is her father
The moment he tells you to go
The moment he becomes a villain in your story
The moment he praises his son for abusing you
The time he broke your spirit
But a father is always your first love
And for me my first heart break.
Why do you hate, when I've done nothing.
Neroxes Zephyrus Nov 2018
You see these people on the outside make judgements and decisions
Based off their opinion, their experiences, or even based on religion
Like they have a simple answer for your demons in your life
A simple solution... Just put down the knife
Throw the razor blades away, you just don't cut starting today
You're gonna stop abusing drugs because there's a better way
You're gonna stop crying yourself to sleep, and get some better rest
You're gonna just stop blaming yourself, and finally try your best
You're gonna look into that mirror and love the person that you see
You're gonna do it without a problem, making that decision is easy

Because it's obvious that when you struggle, you're just not trying
You're making that decision to break down crying
You're making the decision to give up on everything
And we should listen to them because they don't know anything

They don't know you, they don't know me
Even your closest friends and family
They don't know you, they don't understand your struggle
And their solutions are just another problem for you to juggle
Because they insist and they persist, they cause even more mental battles
You don't want to be rude, but you're already up **** creek without a paddle
You feel like you fail them and yourself every day
Wishing you could just smile and slowly fade away

They'll never understand that your sadness is no decision
They'll never understand you're stuck in a mental prison
My decision? My decision? My god, you can't be serious
I'm curious if your delirious, if you even knew how you appear to us
Because from the inside looking out
Where we hide inside out doubt

You think you get it when you don't
Like you're a doctor without the coat
Like you're a miracle psychiatrist
When you're closer to being a cynical Nihilist

Can't you just accept me for the train wreck that I am?
Because every time you try to fix me, you make it so much worse
You push me closer to my dream of riding first class in a hearse
I don't need that extra mental weight when I open up my skin
Your voice inside my head... Disappointed in me again
One day your advice would very well be the trigger
That ensures I will never make it home for dinner

So frown on me, and feed me your superior knowledge
A self-proclaimed unlicensed therapist who never went to college
Your opinion is a cancer to me, so keep it to yourself
When I say that it's a cancer, it means it definitely doesn't help
But your words let me know that I have failed your expectation
And that gives me another reason for my self-mutilation
So thank you, I guess, for crystal clear sound advice
That I should just breath and get over it, and move on with my life

It's so simple, man, I wish I could've thought of it first
It's so easy, just forget about how I feel and all the hurt
And when they find my body, please show up at my funeral
And preach about you understood, and wished I would have just talked to you
Disclaimer: This poem do not belong to me, it belongs to Life From Under (
Katie Miller Apr 4
“**** culture”
Even the phrase slices my tongue and cuts like a double-edged sword of double standards.
The same double standards that say that a girl who wears makeup is a ***** but says that if she doesn’t then she’s ****.
The same double standards that say that if a girl wears a skirt then she’s desperate but if she wears jeans then she’s stiff.
Double standards that keep even the strongest girls asking “Who am I supposed to be?”
The double standard that require **** kits with pamphlets like pamphlets are gonna help us get better.
**** culture requires underwear for women with a lock on it, password and all! Buy one get one free, not of the underwear, but the rapists!
**** culture, the same one you see on the news and in the streets and schools and stores and malls and parks and sports and on the ******* sidewalks.

This next line is for the man in the beaten up red car who cat-called me when I was 15 while I was walking to my friends house last summer: No thanks, I don't want to “smile, little mama”

This line is to the sixth grade teacher in my old school district who was fired for sexually harassing and abusing his students: Who do you think you are to be putting your hands up shirts of 12 year old girls?

This next line is for the man on the news who said “Well she was wearing a skirt, so she was practically asking for it” Excuse me, sir, but that glass ceiling was made of glass it was just asking to be smashed, right?
The patriarchy shatters around their fragile masculinity and breaks into one thousand pieces before cutting the survivor’s wrists because no one ever believes them.
This is the stigma that is delivered upon the doorstep of **** culture’s house by the UPS worker named “Societal Pressures”. The package that no one wants to receive. It knocks at your door but you try to keep it locked.
“Knock knock?” “Who’s there?” “**** joke” “**** joke who?” “**** joke who isn’t ******* funny”.
**** culture is the societal pressure that is put on us to be beautiful, not for ourselves, but for the man who sees us every morning.
**** culture is the demand to smile for the old man that we just passed on the street near the bakery but keeping our mouths shut when we have something to say.
**** culture is standing in front of the mirror everyday before school making sure that I can't be targeted for anything that I'm wearing. Looking at every seem, every angle, every button and zipper.
**** culture is how I (along with my friends) can't walk by a group of boys without pulling up our already uncomfortably high necklines and ducking our heads.
**** culture runs in the veins of every girl, woman, and man that is subject to society.
**** culture is the phrase I'm not supposed to say but I say anyway because I deserve to be heard.
I read this for my slam poem mini-unit in public speaking and people were ****** at me for it... I enjoyed every second of it. I would like to say that the "knock knock" joke was not my original joke.
Bailey Martin May 22
Well I’m twenty now and I have this new insecurity. I am not a teenager anymore, and therefore I cannot lure old men between my legs and trick them into loving me and providing me with attention and care. Surprisingly, I’m finally okay with this and I’ll get to that later.
It’s always been easy to **** out the sick and twisted ones. The ones who see me as a young ****** and an even younger, chubbier, brighter face.
My eyes flicker with lust and my heart beats hard with joy at the guilty desire they feel as their hands grip all over me, keeping me safe and warm.
I was fourteen when I was first kissed by a man over three times my age. The memory of his rough salt and pepper moustache against my soft mouth kept me going in the late nights for years after. It was shortly after that I came up with my own algorithm on how to keep my daddy issues at bay.
I tempt them slowly, show my childish side and innocently touch them a little too much, tell them just a little too much. I’ll serenade them, quietly singing, “c’mon you know you like...little girls...” until they’re heated and ashamed as they follow me toward the back door and into a secret lust they were always too afraid to explore.
They have to stay with me. To them, I’m a precious jewel. A rare specimen that actually finds them **** and appealing. A young “innocent” who might not know that they’re mediocre at *** and emotionally unavailable due to their divorce. But I know. I always know.
They think they’re in control, that they’re sick for doing this to someone who has barely any experience.
In reality, I’m using them to curb my hungry codependency. They’re like a quick fix to me. I get to feel enticing and special, I get to punish the man who hurt me in my past by pleasuring and leaving the similar men of the present.
I scream out, “hurt me, Daddy, please!” The complete opposite of what I cried out as a child. Might even add some tears for maximum effect. I’m asking them, begging them, to please hit me...torture me.
My bruises are my trophies. Because this time I’m in control of the one abusing me. It makes me feel safe.
Then when they get too attached, they get vulnerable. I see this vulnerability and I get scared of not having someone to control me and take care of me. I get disgusted with what I’ve done, and I leave like an echo in the night (sorry Dave!).
Now here’s the weird turn. You, you are not like the rest of these men. I stumbled across you hoping to rob you of your money. But I fell hard, I fell deep. I became obsessed with you, Mr. Nine Years Senior. You don’t look at me with those sly eyes and tell me stories of the war and belittle me until you’re inflated and ready for bed. You don’t like me because I’m young. In fact, it scares you sometimes. But I think that’s so fun.
I am not in control of the situation. You could leave me at any time, I could leave you at any time. I don’t need to throw myself at you or tease you to get your attention. You give it to me regularly, willingly.
You say: “You are grown. You can make your own decisions”. But you also say: “Kids your age shouldn’t be so perverted”.
You say: “What a pathetic little *****”. But you also say: “I respect you. I understand. I do take you seriously. You are no different from me”. I no longer feel craved, I feel loved.
I’m not gonna lie, the gray in your beard and the slight lines around your eyes get me hot and I love to be cruel about your bad back and aching knees. The way you talk about impregnating me lights me up like nothing else but I say “give me five years!” And we laugh and laugh at your desperation to settle down and my desperation to stay your only baby. But you’re different.
You’re not the man I let touch me in high school, you’re not the divorcée I ****** once in Seattle, you’re not the anonymous perv I danced for online, or the endless boring boys and girls my age that I droned on with. You’re somewhere in the middle, and for that, Mr. Nine Years Senior, you’ve perfected my deepest taboo.
This is my final submission, take me or leave me.
I know this is bad but please don’t leave mean comments
Let's go back to the days of wayback slave tracks
Money made in America off of back of blacks
Imagine that the musket aimming sky high
Over multiple supplies war by dawn and sunrise
See the white lies in the eyes they try to hide
Collide confusion to a whole nation abusing cruisin'
Through the violent displays of history looking at the
Way they use to treat us blacks in this country
Say we free but the slave owners owed a debt see?
Don't believe the lies they push on TV lazy stingy
To the knowledge that was forsaken unto thee
Studied Malcolm's flawless philosophy atrocity
Meet up to him because he was **** 'em
Softly with his words swung his swords
Vocally publically they hate they way he
Told the stories of illusion circling glee
To break the mass confusion
Miseducated the black man understand
Why he gotta bird in his hand but can't
Let go of the drug game stained strained
By the Hollywood fame sting in the ring
See the same madness repeating cleating
To stereotype i break their hype with my mental snipe

Organize a rebellion bloodier than Nate relate
Activate my deepest mind state create
Chaos destiny lays in your fate no hate
Can hold me down feelin' James Brown
A funky drummers bumpin' in the Hummers
Put minds to slumber bring forty summers
In the midst of the winters remember September
Eleven was when I first saw hell inside of heaven
souls still battlin' cuz most folks quick for a tattlin'
I'm rattlin' out the snakes chasing cakes
Beat the breaks of a fake see the steaks
I cook beef chief haters get no relief
Once i puff my green leafs put your beliefs
Body deposited in coffin as a safe box
For death to lock no knocks off time on the door
From the sky to the Earth's core i see more Of wars gore
we deep in the battlefield with sheeps
Wolves come with no dearest warms
Intentions to harm smiling everyday piling
Madness on my plate tryna regulate my state
Of chaos wondering in the land of lost
I found myself sitting at the tables silver cables
Worn on my neck at the order of the peck
Respect what Malcolm and Martin set
The true M&Ms chocolate subliminal
Made a criminal but made heros to
Future millennials every bicentennial
They come out to show out how they plotted the ******
route no doubt
Caitlin Apr 15
With a sigh of relief
the numbness is back.
I wake up in the morning
waiting for when I can take my medicine
and go back to sleep.
I'm not abusing it.
I take it when I'm supposed to.
But sleep is my favorite past time
because nothing hurts when I sleep.
Mike Hauser Feb 22
Sometimes I wish
I'd grown up like this
Where sorrow was the only sound
You could hear for miles around

Life being a struggle
Parents being unlovable
Where all they did was scream
At my siblings and me

Maybe if I'd been homeless
In a world that could care less
Then my pen would find to write
More in-depth the strife of life

Or forced into an institution
From what I'd been abusing
Caving to the pressure
Beyond what could be measured

Bit by bit I'd give the clues
Of a life worn thin by its abuse
Taking my writing lessons
From down the hall of deep depression

Helping with said writing
Heartache more inviting
Not this white boy, white bread
Poetry I seem to do instead
I read some of the poets on here and my heart breaks at the struggles in life they've had to and many still do endure. Which had me thinking what my poetry would be like if I had gone through what a lot of them had...My heart goes out to you all.
I hope this poem hasn't insulted anyone, it's just my poet's mind thinking
Floor Jul 18
Her parents are drowning in heroine
While she is taking the Ritalin
To calm her mind from all the stress
Because her parents made a mess
So she takes the pills one by one
Until the bottle is completely gone
And closes her eyes one last time
And looks at it as her parents crime
Now she is in a different place
Somewhere between time and space
Her parents are drowning in sadness and hate
While she is walking to heaven's gate
Something I wrote while traveling the other day.
Floor Jul 18
'You're not good enough!' he said while he placed his hands around my neck
'you'll never be!'
I cried, he lied, I almost died that day
Full of bruises I walked home
Smiled to my parents and told them I fell off my bike the day before that
They believed it, they still think that's the truth
'You *****, never talk to another boy again or I'll **** you! ' he said while he slapped his hand against my cheek
I reacted mild, he got wild, I still was a child that day
Full of red marks I walked home
Smiled to my parents and told them I got in a playful fight with a friend
They believed it, they still think it's the truth
And this went on for a few months
I finally found the strength to get out
But it haunts me every day
NAME Aug 20
t h i s  m a n
i s  a  b a d  m a n

this is why
you need to

abusing people
for your own self gain?
that's a no bueno
it aint coolio

don't hurt others, kids
Graff1980 Jul 29
Come again, my troubled kin,
with tender skin
flushed and bruising
from the world's abusing
and familiar’s misusing
that is so dammed confusing.

Come again, please repeat
the pulsing fury
of rapid heartbeats.
I need to hear something living
to sustain the meager hope
that I have been given.

Come again, please wait
no need to rush
there is no fate
in store for us,
so, let's dally
in children's folly
following the playful fancies
that humans need
to maintain their sanity.

And so, I cry
please come again
to heal this heart broken
by my dearly departed friend.

— The End —