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"ached" poems
Sun ached to rise, above the jagged horizon. It lit the shadow, of stone work, of your craftsmanship. It stood high, strong and everlasting. A stone giant, held together with assumption. Assumption of him, the prince that you seek. Recently one has followed, to the top where you lie. He said the verse, a promise, an assumption. He would mend the holes, patch the sides. As time rhythmically passes, the tower would stand, strong and eager. Until your assumption, is not yet reality. The one that followed, sometime ago, has left with the moon. As your eye tears, the tower leans, crumbles. The salty liquid, corrodes your assumption, that is often set in stone. I watch from afar, knowing the outcome. I tread among the emotion, overflowing and scattered around. As your kin, your brother, I help to pick up the pieces.
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Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 11:30 AM UTC
Assumption
I hardly remember a ******* thing about that day before gazing into his eyes once again, for the first time rushing toward the exit running from the baggage claim; it was all a blur, as walked through those doors all I remember was the vastness of the first sight, stepping into the bright, unfamiliar place & nothing else, but him I scanned the crowd the strange faces waiting for loved ones emotion thick enough to touch in the air, but just to my right in the front with his body pressed up against the metal bar, I saw him it was the first time I saw his face not through a photo or webcam in a time that was so long it ached I think I lost my breath did I leave my things behind when I ran? I don't remember, I just ran to him it was too surreal I can't remember a moment between seeing his face, & kissing his lips nor what kind of kiss it was or how long it lasted I just couldn't fathom it I was really there it was really him & it didn't matter where we were it was all a wonderland to me, I was holding his hand again everything was bright & new it was magic, pure magic
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Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 4:35 AM UTC
reunited at the airport terminal
I was a caterpillar , before I became a butterfly . The pain I had to endure in order to transform into the beauty I am today . This is my tale . In the forest there was, My cocoon wrapped in the finest silk, With a power to live in a colorful world. To dream and conquer goals. A Vivacious soul spinning in the purest silk Growing and maturing as I spun. Wishing for freedom with my beautiful wings, Counting the days to be free and soar as a lively butterfly until You winded into my community Lured my queen and her uneven monarch. Tempted to sabotage my purity. For that you, Lured yourself into my vulernable cocoon with that trust, you decided to disrupt my process. How can one man ruin my nesting site? And I had faith in you , to be a figure I never had. I wanted. My heart ached for it. I needed it. To be loved . To be nurtured. To never be like those stray dogs looking for a home. This was the moment . Where.... Innocence stripped, heart captured. My Freedom gone. You were naive to comprehend On what you were doing... You would stab my cocoon with your sickening poison . Over and over you stabbed . Ruptured the veins of my innocence . To break my finest silk . Purity banished. Stabbing your poison was Making my cocoon useless , worthless , unwanted, colorless, I tried to run and I tried to scream but I was devoured by this poison It was the love I deserve. Couldn't escape , numb to the pain For every poison injected, I began to Question God? Where was he ? when I shed out a tear of help. Where was he? when my cocoon was destroyed. Was I loved God? when I muffled help in your name. I hated myself , I stay in my cocoon afraid to see my future. I wasn't going to be a beautiful butterfly Battered Butterfly My life seemed to be colorless No one wants a battered butterfly My life.... It seemed it had ended when poison sunk onto my helpless body . No one wants a battered butterfly Imprisoned to these chains. Being poisoned every night by different Predators. Oh God.... Those predators ... Battered lifeless little butterfly Was I ever loved in my nesting site? But then again nobody loves a battered butterfly How can I reach to heaven when I was worthless. Believed I was a vile ***** Tricked into a poison of hell. Battered Ugly Butterfly ***** Little butterfly*. There was no light in tunnel There was no holes in my silk To escape this poisonous nest. Why? Because I believe nobody wants save a battered butterfly How can the man I trusted ruined me. I thought you could be the one to complete my lovely monarch . To complete the missing piece. But you continued to misuse me. To haunt me. To barricade my heart To own my soul But one thing I can truly say You never once won over me. You never imprinted my change. I endured your pain That was a sign of God To show me what strength I am capable of. That was the light that I found, You had no control to inflict pain anymore. Because I became impervious to your pain. I am a beautiful butterfly reigning over my monarch with no thought of you. That is my freedom
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May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 2:25 AM UTC
Battered Butterfly
I was a caterpillar , before I became a butterfly . The pain I had to endure in order to transform into the beauty I am today . This is my tale . In the forest there was, My cocoon wrapped in the finest silk, With a power to live in a colorful world. To dream and conquer goals. A Vivacious soul spinning in the purest silk Growing and maturing as I spun. Wishing for freedom with my beautiful wings, Counting the days to be free and soar as a lively butterfly until You winded into my community Lured my queen and her uneven monarch. Tempted to sabotage my purity. For that you, Lured yourself into my vulernable cocoon with that trust, you decided to disrupt my process. How can one man ruin my nesting site? And I had faith in you , to be a figure I never had. I wanted. My heart ached for it. I needed it. To be loved . To be nurtured. To never be like those stray dogs looking for a home. This was the moment . Where.... Innocence stripped, heart captured. My Freedom gone. You were naive to comprehend On what you were doing... You would stab my cocoon with your sickening poison . Over and over you stabbed . Ruptured the veins of my innocence . To break my finest silk . Purity banished. Stabbing your poison was Making my cocoon useless , worthless , unwanted, colorless, I tried to run and I tried to scream but I was devoured by this poison It was the love I deserve. Couldn't escape , numb to the pain For every poison injected, I began to Question God? Where was he ? when I shed out a tear of help. Where was he? when my cocoon was destroyed. Was I loved God? when I muffled help in your name. I hated myself , I stay in my cocoon afraid to see my future. I wasn't going to be a beautiful butterfly Battered Butterfly My life seemed to be colorless No one wants a battered butterfly My life.... It seemed it had ended when poison sunk onto my helpless body . No one wants a battered butterfly Imprisoned to these chains. Being poisoned every night by different Predators. Oh God.... Those predators ... Battered lifeless little butterfly Was I ever loved in my nesting site? But then again nobody loves a battered butterfly How can I reach to heaven when I was worthless. Believed I was a vile ***** Tricked into a poison of hell. Battered Ugly Butterfly ***** Little butterfly*. There was no light in tunnel There was no holes in my silk To escape this poisonous nest. Why? Because I believe nobody wants save a battered butterfly How can the man I trusted ruined me. I thought you could be the one to complete my lovely monarch . To complete the missing piece. But you continued to misuse me. To haunt me. To barricade my heart To own my soul But one thing I can truly say You never once won over me. You never imprinted my change. I endured your pain That was a sign of God To show me what strength I am capable of. That was the light that I found, You had no control to inflict pain anymore. Because I became impervious to your pain. I am a beautiful butterfly reigning over my monarch with no thought of you. That is my freedom
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These hands that have held you as a wild child in a dream are the same hands that throb to choke you and muffle your screams. These hands which guided and guarded you down those stretches of hospital halls are now the hands that push you down to fall. These hands once caressed the jagged, pink, scar where your heart used to lay become the hands that wish to tear it away. These hand that made sure you fell asleep through all that pain now are the hands that would cut themselves to beat out your brain. These hands that used to pray for you like a ***** ready to be ****** are clinched in two fist now ready to make the first throw. These hands that ached for you, fed you,  and tried so ******* hard are just the hands of memories now deep tissue scars. ... These hands.. Would have killed anyone, in dirt and cold blood.. Are now the only hands holding back the rage of my flood. .. These hands, they still work for you. Even if you're no longer here with me..... These hands, they're still here, waiting... One day.. You'll see.
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Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 9:10 PM UTC
These Hands.
My heart is full So much resides there Memories wish to stop it from beating Scraps & unforgiveness have tried to choke it out My heart once ached from betrayal To stone i thought it would turn But through all of that I cant seem to get rid of LOVE LOVE still lives there Reassuring me in life I can go on!!!! As for me & my heart we're gonna be just fine!
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Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 1:16 PM UTC
My heart
We were teammates We suited up We showed up We weren't stars But we rolled in the dirt With the best of them Our blood ran red Like the rest of them Our sweat tasted salty As the most athletic of them Wounds and bruises Ached like the most Stalwart of them We were Bulldogs! We anted up our Gifts and talents to Forge a winning season A flair for humor Wry observation, Encouragement, fortitude And intelligence were as Valuable as speed, Agility and strength We all pined for the Affection of cheerleaders, Bandmembers and the Adoration of fans We equally joined In the chorus of locker room banter And honored the Confidence of camaraderie Such intimacy bares We endured thankless Adversity, while wending through anonymous toil As brothers We grudgingly drank From the vile cup of defeat And passed the chalice Of victory among us To share the savory Taste of triumph As champions The Duke of Wellington Said “the battle of Waterloo Was won on the fields of Eton” I trust my teammates and Not forgotten friends Tasted sweet victories of Happiness and success As they coursed through Their prodigious fields of life And at games end I hope their heart swelled With pride to know they were A beloved and Valiant Bulldog David Irving Korsh #75 BCSL Champion 1973 Rutherford Bulldogs Well done Valiant Bulldog God bless and Godspeed Music Selection: Bruce Springsteen Thunder Road 5/5/18 Puyallup jbm
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Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 2:58 PM UTC
Valiant Bulldog
I have been away for too long In a solitude, burried with remorse For I've lost a very close loved one And the situation got worse I prayed to be taken away For my life to end As soon as possible Coz nothing much was left to mend Tears rolled down my cheeks To stop the negative thoughts Got taken back many times To untie the invisible knots Voices got into my ears That ached to explode my temple Closing my eyes eveytime A picture painted, to resemble It's you, O'mum...that I can't get over with Life seems, more like a lego Feelings that can't be put into words Every bit pierces through the core Your smile, your beauty, your essence Has all been captured by this heart Now, in troubled weak times Another scene peeps as an art How will I ever, comfort myself That now I am all alone None that are left by my side All have fallen and gone May your soul rest in peace Exactly, a month today Missing you heaps in this crowded shell Hope to meet you, someday... ©sim
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May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 8:07 AM UTC
Essence
We were boys, once. Our mother liked to dress us in tailored suits and leather shoes. Every Sunday morning. Ready bright and early for mass at 11. We'd sit in the classroom at the back of the old church hall. After mass. After the chatter of voices hushed down to whispers; virtuous gossip. Our teacher fed us images of hellfire and brimstone. *** and sin. Satan in a red cape and Halloween horns. He didn't always look like that. Oh, no. Mother said that he'd come out all dressed in a suit like mine. He'd be handsome! His voice would be a choir of one billion ****** souls and once you'd hear it, you'd never want it to stop. In my eight-year-old mind, I wondered what he did and what he felt when his own father cursed his name. Did he stare at his dad with his thousand-eyes? Did he protest? Did he laugh as he fell? In a cascade of feathers and blood. Maybe he was better off without him. He'd spend the rest of eternity trying to prove his father wrong. That he was worthy of his love: That he would be the only son to grieve for the mistake of humanity. The holy adversary. The one who would shout his love for The Lord until his throat cracked dry and his chest ached. He, who could see the suffering of his father's own creations. He, who tempted Eve and proved God wrong and we were flawed from the very beginning. Did he watch Eve eat the apple and savor every bite? He loved his father. Did he deserve it? I stopped going to church on my eighteenth birthday. What kind of parent would **** one son and praise the other? Who would let one son be nailed to a board and the other to rot in flames? Even as a child, I knew. Through every slap, scold and bruise. I would never bow.
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Jan 23, 2017
Jan 23, 2017 at 9:32 AM UTC
Adversary
We were boys, once. Our mother liked to dress us in tailored suits and leather shoes. Every Sunday morning. Ready bright and early for mass at 11. We'd sit in the classroom at the back of the old church hall. After mass. After the chatter of voices hushed down to whispers; virtuous gossip. Our teacher fed us images of hellfire and brimstone. *** and sin. Satan in a red cape and Halloween horns. He didn't always look like that. Oh, no. Mother said that he'd come out all dressed in a suit like mine. He'd be handsome! His voice would be a choir of one billion ****** souls and once you'd hear it, you'd never want it to stop. In my eight-year-old mind, I wondered what he did and what he felt when his own father cursed his name. Did he stare at his dad with his thousand-eyes? Did he protest? Did he laugh as he fell? In a cascade of feathers and blood. Maybe he was better off without him. He'd spend the rest of eternity trying to prove his father wrong. That he was worthy of his love: That he would be the only son to grieve for the mistake of humanity. The holy adversary. The one who would shout his love for The Lord until his throat cracked dry and his chest ached. He, who could see the suffering of his father's own creations. He, who tempted Eve and proved God wrong and we were flawed from the very beginning. Did he watch Eve eat the apple and savor every bite? He loved his father. Did he deserve it? I stopped going to church on my eighteenth birthday. What kind of parent would **** one son and praise the other? Who would let one son be nailed to a board and the other to rot in flames? Even as a child, I knew. Through every slap, scold and bruise. I would never bow.
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I remember that placid night... Sitting in my room alone. Something inside me was filled with fright, Knowing that there was no one to phone. And I suddenly hungered, ached, desired— That animalistic feeling, That urge left unhindered— That lustful tingling. A lust I lusted after, But to no avail. My lonely heart started beating faster, But all I could do was wait and wail. I felt choked up, Stifled beyond belief. I felt like I had dealt with enough, And I needed to help my soul breathe. A lust I had lusted after, Longing for that forgotten feeling. But my hopes were useless chatter, No one could hear my silent pleading. I felt so very hopeful— Hopeful and excited. But I was left feeling wistful, With my lust uninvited.
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Jun 1, 2019
Jun 1, 2019 at 11:39 PM UTC
Longing
When I look into the mirror And stare at my own reflection I see a stranger sneering at me I see the patch of dark around my eyes I see my hair going grey I see the blotchy skin and wrinkles on my face It all makes me think How rapid is the flight of youth Once I was a bubbly girl Full of charm with dreamy eyes The golden vistas cheered my heart In my dreams I scaled to touch the skies Love vibrated every nerve But now a sad change has come over It all makes me think How rapid is the flight of time Once I thought how bright and sweet was life Agile were my movements, could walk miles Fatigue I never knew, supple limbs never ached Life was a roller coaster ride Today when I look at the young With wind in their skirts and sunbeams in their eyes I see the stark change that years have brought And wonder how rapid the onset of old age is Though my beauty has burnt away And my bones have a brittle grate Still I would like to hold on stubbornly Looking at each day for what next day brings As I still have a hopeful heart And wish to embrace life as it comes To make it a sweet labor of love So I ‘rage, rage against the dying of light’!
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May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 10:23 PM UTC
As Old Age Beckons
The boy sat beneath the grey gum, listening to the magpie crooning, somewhere far above his head. He watched as the figure approached, an old man stumbling down a dirt track. "Yer back than." said the boy, standing. "Yeah." Replied the man, "I'm back." The boy sat down again "Yer staying?" "I should never have left you, I realise that now." The man replied. "Was it fun where you went?" asked the boy, "No, it was miserable." said the man, "It could never be fun without you. Have you been to the tree house lately?" "Not since you left," said the boy. "I've just been sitting here waiting, for you to take me to the carnival, where we could eat candy floss and hot dogs to our bellies ached." "I should have taken you with me, I've missed the carnivals and candy floss." The man said his eyes filling with tears. "Is the tyre still hanging over the water hole?" "Of cause it is," said the boy, "you want to go there?" "Oh yes!" Cried the man "I want to go there. More than anything I want to go there!" The boy stood up and took his hand, and together they walked across the pond. 03/03/2010
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Nov 2, 2010
Nov 2, 2010 at 1:49 AM UTC
So You're Back Than!
I remember towards the end of my parents marriage Their arguing was inescapable I tried to drown it out, but the screaming was too loud And the temptation of eavesdropping was too much I should have turned my music up     I wish the things I heard could become unheard My heart ached for both of them Because I'm sure they were just trying to figure out what went wrong and when And I'm not really sure how people go from lovers to strangers Because at one point they meant the world to each other But suddenly it seemed they were living in two different worlds And I wonder if they were ever happy together Or if they were just putting on a show I want to believe they were once were in love, most of me believes it I guess I'd like to think my existence is from a place of love and not bitter resentment I swear there was a time when they looked at each other like they shared some secret And smiled at each other with knowing smiles Now when they see one another their eyes are just filled with contempt And there's no trace of a smile on their strained lips Which leaves me to question How does someone you know become someone you knew? How does someone who was your present, your future, so quickly become your past? How does someone who was your world become a memory fading out of existence? How does someone you love become someone you loved?
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Jul 19, 2013
Jul 19, 2013 at 4:09 PM UTC
Lovers to strangers
Her eyes were filled with love But she wasn't looking at me Even though it physically hurt She was happy Every time she looked at him My throat burned and ached I watched her as i was violently coughing up the beautiful red pedals Knowing i was going to die Because i knew she would never look at me The way she looked at him And for some reason not loving her Hurt more then the pedals themselves Her beauty couldn’t compare to the throned flowers Rapidly blooming in my throat I would happily die knowing That i died loving her I was going to hold on Despite the feeling of being set on fire And knowing exactly how this was going to turn out But i wanted to die with the little dignity i had left My vision got blurry blood dripped from my lip My throat began to close And With one last breath The flowers consumed my smiling dead body That beautiful hanahaki
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May 23, 2021
May 23, 2021 at 10:59 PM UTC
Hanahaki disease
She sunk slowly southward, skimming my soul with sweet sighs, Acutely aware of my amorous... appeal, I ached for her acquiescence, Daring- Her; I- dazed: Delicately devouring my disheveled desire, Leisurely lingering, her lips leaving lipstick licks and languor, Yet it ended, and I yearned for you.
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Aug 18, 2020
Aug 18, 2020 at 5:56 PM UTC
Sadly
I have a heart made to adore juvenile fantasies, despite modern tragedies. In moments of madness when modern photography presents to me the horrors of humanity I can engage for a minute and escape the insanity in the comics that carry super hero forms. When I see bombs that blister skin till flesh bursts revealing red disfigurement I can travel in my own mental compartment to escape this. I can revisit Winnie the pooh or review the crew of “Star Trek The Next Generation.” When mind numbing poverty rears its sad faces at me, with stranger’s eyes and thin lips quivering in lonely desperation, despite my empathy I have a gift for escaping the irrationality of human suffering. I just sip the soft brew of nostalgia for old cartoons recalling a slightly saner time, when all the sorrows were only mine, when I ached with a mother’s fury but tv shows saw me distracted the fact is I have been escaping my whole life, and I don’t see that changing.
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Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 10:30 AM UTC
Untitled 12
capricorn: how often do you love for a second and then forget, how many times have you loved so deeply you've thought it might be to the grave aquarius: can you listen to their favorite genre of music without breaking down yet pisces: how many times have your fingers ached and you've felt like it was because of the months you've gone without holding his hand aries: how many lovers bedrooms have you occupied, how many times have you wanted three words to occupy your bones and make you feel warm taurus: have you learned not to fall in love yet gemini: how often do you try to pretend she never happened cancer: how many times have you sat outside with a bottle of liquor typing in her phone number that you deleted before you started drinking leo: have you forgotten the way he smiles yet or is that saved in your phone still along with all the text messages you two have ever sent virgo: how many times have you sat in someone else's car and reached for her hand before realizing she's not driving libra: have you been able to say out loud that she doesn't love you anymore and not end it with a choking sob scorpio: how many times have you woken up at 3am and felt around your bed praying to a god you don't believe in that she would be there sagittarius: do you still hear him in the middle of the night when everything is quiet and you're breaking
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Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 7:58 PM UTC
vii
My heart ached For a voice I couldn't unhear. For a touch as familiar as the suns light. For eyes that could only see my soul. For promises I could never hold him to. For answers to questions I couldn't ask. And for comfort I didn't deserve. But most of all my heart ached to just not ache For one day For one hour For one minute Without him. And the problem was that While I was always without him My heart ached And ached And ached And ached And has never ceased it's aching.
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Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 10:04 AM UTC
Heartache
The fish does not understand Water But the stray-nine Understands home Sometimes it takes an absence A negativity, a darkness From the dust dream rises Like stars from the void Someone rides an elevator up Your spine and Bridge The direction is born Soul tendrils extend and Embrace tender lock of we Season together The fat men starve before the Peasant because they Have never really Ached In their stomachs In their bones When you live in famine Scraps can sustain And yet Will you still notice the Seven shade cycle rainbow-nectaring From the street lanterns? Or the Diamonds In ivory fro-banks glittering sparks? When you are full Will you Ponder the pulsar’s violence? Will you Spare the stranger and Samaritan oft? When you are full Don’t lose it Sadness is Your prism Choose the spectrum Transcend the neut and stag You can be their Atlas They Need It
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Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 2:07 PM UTC
161. Prism 1/10/13
I ached for you last night, and I yearned and I cried and I shaked for you last night. I wanted nothing but to be near you, to hear your heartbeat in your chest. But I did not want to break you down, or put this love to rest. I dreamt of you lying beside me last night, and I kissed you and I held you and I felt you last night. I traced out the moon beams surrounding your spine, and kissed every ligament, still hoping you're mine. But before I could sleep, and before I could slumber, I readied my mind and I phoned to your number. I wanted you to come here to me, and I wanted you to be near. But with wanting and heartache I hung up that phone, and I watched the blood moon appear. (i.r)
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Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 1:03 PM UTC
Beams and Blood
When my aching heart ached in excess, I sought out to sleep, dream, escape. I found myself in the land of the philosophers; Greece. But perhaps it looked nothing like Greece, for I haven’t visited the country to ever know. But upon its heavenly resemblance, I was washed ashore. I remember the sand as soft ivory, dancing under my feet. But pay no attention to the sand, for something else had already caught me. The sky. God in disguise, I tell you. Wrapped in the wildest hue of violet, with the drape’s silky edges tucked into the horizon. The color was deep and passionate in every way, it intoxicated the evening with its romantic cologne. And upon that sky, lie God’s silver angels. The stars constantly winked, praising the earth, in repetitive bangles. But not alone. The moon was its fullest on that night, and so it wasted no time, it beamed in bravado, the strangest white. I sat quietly, listening to Greece sing its gentle yet enigmatic song, silently wishing that this is no fantasy, and that I am not wrong.
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Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 7:59 PM UTC
The Violet Evening
I fought with the courage You gave me With the sword of humility on the horse of faith I fought for who You finally made me be You filled me with patience and protected me from hate You gave me all I have and always heard my prayers Only You know when the right moment comes to make them come true You bestowed upon me freedom in shining layers Hope and faith as I served only You For a long time I don't understand what hit me It seems I listened to their whispers and thought I could live away Without the daily connection with You, but not too deep inside I knew they put me astray Today after all those months of darkness, emptiness and despair I realize it's time for my clouded heart to be fair Finding back the faith You sent on me in the pure past As I pray my daily prayer in gratitude for You It seems my heart can feel again, I feel alive at last Tears begin to flow as I understand what's left to do My face had lost its light and my heart ached because I forgot That my only true dream and purpose is to serve You, God. Y.
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Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 7:22 PM UTC
My heart lives again!
i have so many thorns in my body, that i forgot all the places i've been bleeding. you bleed me out, you can. and that's okay. i'm aching. i ached to taste you and i still ache, but the question is, would you even wait long enough to let me have the chance? to be waiting and being disappointed by a bitter fruit or waiting and never finding out the sting. i'm not sure what is worse. is it possible to drown before you take a dive into the deep end of the pool? or is the self pity the pool itself? does weakness constitute as a fabrication for other people's flaws or is it simply a plan that failed to start? i know my blind sides, but i've had so many bittersweet "almosts" and close enough "maybes" that heartbreak has become my favorite flavor.
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Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 8:42 PM UTC
i treat rejection like medicine
You stripped my soul, Ripped me from my shoes Where I stood in innocence. You extracted my childlike traits, Treated my body As your ********* paycheck. My whole future Was laid out in front me. Now you fabricated a dent in it, One that has shattered me Forever. I used to smile, Be full of life, Slept at night, My body never reeked the incessant scent of the lifeless souls you sold me to. My heart ached everyday, I longed for home, where safety was waiting for me. Everyday I was a raindrop, Trying to cling onto the window of hope, But always slipped away. You don’t understand the pain, You’re only in it for the hunnits Please understand, That my dehumanization is not worthy For what you gain. My body became an abstract canvas, For your ugly pleasures. Bruised, bloodied, beaten, and battered. Cuts and aches line my delicate skin, But to you all my pain is fake. You slapped my delicate face, every time I asked for my precious prize of my childhood, every time clear oceans surged out of my eyes. “Shut the hell up!” You yelled As I let out wails of agony. You stepped all over me Like I was a used cigarette. You ignored my shrieking screams, Actually, You loved it. You forced me To comply with their beastly gratifications, Only in return for your abundant riches. You stepped on me, like I was a ***** grimy, muddy puddle, over and over Even so, I was still considered desirable. I am NOT your canvas. I am NOT your paycheck. I am NOT your plaything. I am worthy of honor, worthy of respectful awe and delicacy. I did not feel the worth of a human being anymore. I felt ill treated, broken, bent, demeaned. You stripped my soul, and, Deprived me of my self respect. And I will never Ever Be the same. The only thought That seeps into my mind At sunrise and the brink of midnight, Is that I Was someone’s ***** Listen to the pleas of Children, their ribbons shriveling up. Spouses, their vows rupturing. Siblings, their hearts torn apart. Parents, Bawling for their sanities, Waiting to rejoice With their miraculous bundles of joy—
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Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 11:13 AM UTC
Pulverization
You stripped my soul, Ripped me from my shoes Where I stood in innocence. You extracted my childlike traits, Treated my body As your ********* paycheck. My whole future Was laid out in front me. Now you fabricated a dent in it, One that has shattered me Forever. I used to smile, Be full of life, Slept at night, My body never reeked the incessant scent of the lifeless souls you sold me to. My heart ached everyday, I longed for home, where safety was waiting for me. Everyday I was a raindrop, Trying to cling onto the window of hope, But always slipped away. You don’t understand the pain, You’re only in it for the hunnits Please understand, That my dehumanization is not worthy For what you gain. My body became an abstract canvas, For your ugly pleasures. Bruised, bloodied, beaten, and battered. Cuts and aches line my delicate skin, But to you all my pain is fake. You slapped my delicate face, every time I asked for my precious prize of my childhood, every time clear oceans surged out of my eyes. “Shut the hell up!” You yelled As I let out wails of agony. You stepped all over me Like I was a used cigarette. You ignored my shrieking screams, Actually, You loved it. You forced me To comply with their beastly gratifications, Only in return for your abundant riches. You stepped on me, like I was a ***** grimy, muddy puddle, over and over Even so, I was still considered desirable. I am NOT your canvas. I am NOT your paycheck. I am NOT your plaything. I am worthy of honor, worthy of respectful awe and delicacy. I did not feel the worth of a human being anymore. I felt ill treated, broken, bent, demeaned. You stripped my soul, and, Deprived me of my self respect. And I will never Ever Be the same. The only thought That seeps into my mind At sunrise and the brink of midnight, Is that I Was someone’s ***** Listen to the pleas of Children, their ribbons shriveling up. Spouses, their vows rupturing. Siblings, their hearts torn apart. Parents, Bawling for their sanities, Waiting to rejoice With their miraculous bundles of joy—
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She spread her arms and embraced me that familiar scent made me smile I noticed the wrinkles on her arms and my heart ached she spent half of her life preparing what's best for me and still.. she is here comforting me at my worst My eyes welled up as i held back my tears thinking of all the things i couldn't do for her My heart pounding in a rhythm thinking of all the best things for her As she got up to bring me my favorite snack tears finally escaped my eyes wiping them away quickly i promised to myself I'll never leave you maa
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Mar 2, 2021
Mar 2, 2021 at 12:47 PM UTC
Maa