"conscient" poems
I still remember that night. I remember how I felt before it happened more vividly than how I felt after. I think I remember it so well because that was the last time I ever felt whole.
Your intentions filled the room as I watched the drool on the side of your lips. The uneasy smirk on your face. You wanted a lot more than to "just get laid." I was far too young to even begin to understand the parts of my body you knew not to touch.
As you kissed me down my neck, my spine quivered and my fear shook. My mother always told me to follow my gut and when I did you grabbed me and you told me not to listen to it. You told me to ignore what I didn't want for the sake of your temporary pleasure. You disregarded my comfort and put your **** ahead of my feelings.
You yanked my legs open and your ripped me into two pieces, and till this day I have yet to find the other half you stolen from me, and I swear I almost see it everyday when I stand ahead of myself naked infront of my mirror but I can never stare at myself long enough to grab me in and make myself whole again.
Do you see what you have done to me? Was that temporary pleasure from my little 13 year old body worth the pain I face today? Was that stolen pleasure worth every jump I make when the man I love touches me with permission? Was your everlasting ****** sounds of moans and sighs escaping from your lips, echoing in my stomach and spilling out in my tears worth me cutting myself open every night since?
I guess it was because at least I'm giving myself permission opening myself up. At least the pain has conscient. At least the blade dragging across my skin silenced the sound of your pleasure inside of me. At least the blood from my wrist dripping onto the bathroom floor isn't mixed with this filth.
At least I have the choice to put just a little more pressure in and I wont have to be reminded of you anymore.
Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 9:13 PM UTC
I heard a tale once
Of vapid medium matrix
And taut smiley convolutes
A tale which embarked me
At that time
Yet gave me no notion of its truer
Nature
You see
The ocean has no currents when you’re under
You see
You don’t see into your own eyes very often
You see
But the many yous that make a lifespan up
Can see you and make you see through
There is a tremblesome youngster in all of us
The one which makes crusaderies bearable
And laughter cramps quotidian gamblers
The breathtaken gasping-at-everything
Taken aback little idiot with the
Thunder in his belly
And the crawls below her skin
And the overhead waves
Evermore crashed within
Yes my meek teen rally
Once a half-contrived sin
Once my part bright moon
Of a solitary kin
Comes in all of us it seems
And we make up threads of social
For the fabric of our culture
That we start to weave adawn
Yet at dawn we are not there
With a full grown self aware
And at the solar peak of glare
We are still too young to care
Then at scarlet tap of dusk
Still a bit too tough to bare
Last at midnight we are gripped
With the fullest conscient gaze
So we can all marvel upon
How much oxygen we waste
In this marvellous endeavour
I think though it’s for the better
And I’ve slowly learned to praise
All the veiling in this system
Of Born
Dead
Then Raised
Then Very Dead
What I mean is there’s some Wise
In the grinds of our Ways
How Ethereum with potential
Gets palpable and cased
Because then we can all be
With the hardship of adult
And the vestige of a kid
And then we get to die
To get it over with…
But wait I still have something
A little more positive to say
Like the first person on Mars
Is likely still a kid
So when we get to Mars
We’ll still float in that kid
If you feel trapped in the smiley
And depressed and yesterdated
Version of yourself
It means you still have all
The other phases ahead
Yet it might not still be quite
As freely as you’re expecting
That your form will excavate
Through life’s cruel winding
Not all of us will get
To float our kid to Mars
Yes, you’ll get it All
Oh yes, you’ll get to try
But in the end, my friend
You’ll be glad you get to die.
Mar 12, 2018
Mar 12, 2018 at 10:47 PM UTC
Un soir, alors que je réfléchissais,
Je me demandais comment j'en étais
Arrivé là, seul. La réponse soufflait,
Et, comme l'écho des cris d'un enfant,
Dans l'ampleur d'une forêt, me scindant
L'esprit en deux, je me perdais sûrement
Dans mes pensées. Alors, une fois de trop ;
Comme chaque nuit, si ce n'est pas beau,
Rien ne m'amènerait à la raison.
La folie s'emparait-elle de moi ?
J'étais incapable de réfléchir,
À demi conscient, pensant aux passions
Qui me guidaient, comme un aveugle-sourd,
Apeuré et surtout tremblant de froid,
Agrippé à l'épaule de son père,
Guidé par l'instinct. "Bon, à qui le tour ?"
Repensant au passé, et plus empli,
En moi, de colère que de courage,
tout brillait dans la noirceur de la nuit
Qui semblait s'abattre tel un orage
Sur des plaines désertes. Rien ni personne
Ne pouvait me sortir de là. Aucun
Espoir n'eut été aussi puissant qu'un
Éveil raté. Mais par chance, rien ne sonne.
J'étais là, heureux, dans ma position
Préférée, je ne pensais déjà plus,
Aux rêveries de belles régions,
Ni même à mes amours trop tôt perdus.
Je dominais tout, sauf cette nuit là.
Jun 11, 2017
Jun 11, 2017 at 1:55 PM UTC
you are still tearing
me apart and yet, you are
not aware of it.
Dec 14, 2016
Dec 14, 2016 at 8:52 PM UTC
Nos parents sont nos anges ,
[ nos modèles
[ de sage
La Nature a su le faire
Parfois on même hérité de leur
[ savoir-faire
Nous aimons
Nos Parents qui nous guident ,
[ nous
[ conduisent
Nos parents sont forts
[ Se sont des
[ battants
Nos parents sont courageaux
[ et bravent
Ils ne reculent devant rien
Pour nous ils sacrifient leur
[biens
Nos parents sont bons
[ ils se soucient
[ de nous
Nos parents sont bons
[ ils méritent
[ notre Respect
Nos parents ne nous demandent
[ rien en retour
Le retour qu'on les dois c'est
[ la Soumission
[ et l'obéissance.
Comme au Dieu d' omniscience.
Nos parents veulent qu'on soit :
Conscient et non feniant
respecteux et non Insouscieux
Créé par Dieu pour nous
{ Conduire
Ils jouent bien leur rôle il faut
{ l'endeduire
C'est pour sa que pour nous,
En tant que leur Bambins
Leur perte eux ces êtres
{Magnifique
Es une avalanche catastrophique
Pour ceux qui ne joue pas leur
{ rôle durant
{ leur
{ pèlerinage
Ils laissent des coquilles vides
{S'il faut en
{ faire une
{image
Dieu du ciel
Est notre père des siècles
Dieu aujourd'hui
Nous appelle tous à une vie en Lui
Dec 12, 2019
Dec 12, 2019 at 5:09 PM UTC