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Theresa M Rose Oct 2018
This is chapter one; your opinions  are a blessing?!



As Obliteration Comes...

What is there to think of a man who goes, so far, out of his way in the destruction of the woman who loves him; Years beyond the assault she could not, would not speak about… a woman, … within her devastation tries to dissociate and desperately tries to make it… not be?!  Of this day…, she tells no-one; … only those there knew, they were there in the aftermath and saw. There at the place she’s works and holds a different name;  a place where she could not report  to police…, not without turning her world inside out, a destruction which becomes impossible to avoid?! Considering such a thing leaves behind evidence of its unspoken crime. Unknowing all … He hates her for acts of duplicity; as if she’d want any other than he, who owns her heart?!
The day
I know Denise’s men; for the most-part, their ******* Freaks! I’d never normally go near any of them?! But, this man had pleasant eyes; I knew Denise was going to be in before I leave… so I sat with him.
He tells me he and Denise know each-other through my other Agent, Lisa; I worked with more than one agent, AI-Talent and Top Entertainers Talent Agency all for my NY, Conn. and NJ gigs. I had Lisa for all gigs at after-hours and for those long-distance clubs.    
(Lisa’s the agent which was going to give me up to the Rode Island police, when we were all on the way home from a four week gig we did in Boston’s Pussycat’s Lounge. An unforgettable time to say the least ;)

Kal walks over around 3:30 and whispers “Denise is a no-show tonight could you stay until her replacement gets here?”

What, as-if I would say no?
It was one extra set and I would be out of here at 5pm!
” No problem! But, I need to be out of here by five?!”

“Janice, cool! Callie lives on the other end of the Market; she said she’ll cab it down!” Kal looks relieved.

  But as it goes with Denise’s friend; he was, to say the least, miffed!
“Denise told me to be here! Why…? If she wasn’t going…”  
I tell him, “If Denise told you to be here? She’ll stop by later or she’ll send someone in to get you! Right?”
He orders me another drink; he stews about where Denise could be…; Meanwhile, Denise’s replacement is nowhere to be found?!
It’s now 6pm?!
“There’s no-way, no way in hell, I’ll make it out to Rockaway’s by 8pm!” thinking to myself …, ‘I can’t be late?! I’ve never been late!’
“This is not my day!?”
Denise’s friend turns to me and says,” I’ll drop you down at the train; Hell, I’m going down to midtown; the hell with waiting for Denise! So, if you can use a ride down to the city?”
As he says this Callie flies through the door.

As you know; I’m an *******!  I was totally elated thinking of the possibility about being out there with Joe by 9- 9:30! ‘He’s saying he can get me down to the A train and from there… One straight run! Oh, Baby!’
What a ******* *******; I’d never… I wasn’t thinking.

“That’s so nice of you; thank you!” Stupidly, “You have no idea; Let me go in the back and get my stuff!”
I never before..; “You can’t know how much this helps me out! Thank you! “      

   I tell Kal he’s was giving me the ride.  Kal smiles, “Thanks man! She’s a good girl… take care of her! “
  
He takes my bags to carry them outside for me; It was so bright outside. After a seven hour long day of being inside drinking with that pounding music and those pulsating lights; the outdoors seem so foreign?! I look to see where his car was parked?
He laughs saying, “I put it in the lot across the street! Willey’s lot was full when I got here.”

Still thanking him for driving me downtown while crossing over Hunts Point Avenue; we reach his car he opens his back door to place my bags on the seat… fumbling the bags one of them falls to the ground. I remember hearing his laughter as I bent over to get my bag; all the bags were flying towards me!? Before, I could… I …   the back of my head hit the edge of the door… my bags were on top of me … and all the weight? I try but couldn’t make a sound! I was in the back of his car. All my bags moving, cutting into me and him pressing down; …clawing, pawing all over! My bags cutting into my skin; His arm pressing against my chest!  I heard, “Don’t… **** … Die!”   I couldn’t feel… Breathe? And; Snap! …Blackness.    
Then, I remember… falling!? I was…. a body empty nothing-more as it’s pushed out the door and hits gravel! Bags slam hard onto…, all of what remains left of it.  
There’s sound of an engine? There’s shower of gravel? Car-horns are heard blaring in the distance; still breathing.  
I’m not sure how…??? I pick stuff off the ground. My mind’s numb, thinking all I could… I need home to clean this… I’ll make it gone??? I’ll make it… not have happened!’
I took a cab from *****’s; All the way from the South Bronx! I still don’t remember that time to my home; I only remember getting out of the second cab, The Rockaway’s Play-land; I remember watching for the A-train to go by… thinking; ‘I’ll tell Joe I took the train out. He’ll never know… he can’t?! He told me not to go; he told me to be out here with him to meet his friend. This is my fault.’ The head’s not… Hide, it didn’t happen just forget the last twenty-four hours?! I turn the corner and walk down the block towards the bungalow; he was there.
‘He’ll leave you; it’s your fault you went to work; he told you not to go… No, nothing happened?! He loves me? I love him!!! Nothing happened!’
When he saw me? He didn’t even ask anything about my not having all my bags? I always carry my three extra large duffels and a pocketbook?
I walk in the yard with only money in my pants and not even one bag?
If I were here straight from work and had left the club when I suppose to off I’d been here no later than 8pm?
I show up ten moments to four in the morning, without bags and he doesn’t say a thing about it; not even a single word about this long-sleeve shirt covering my cuts and bruises?
He smiles; he tells me his friend’s still sleeping but when he wakes-up we’ll all go to breakfast. His friend comes out and we sat and talked for a few moments. Joe hadn’t notice but his friend asks me if I was alright: I said, “Yeah hadn’t eaten all day; Joe says we’re going out for food. His friend took his car and Joe and I met him there. The whole time sitting there in the Crossbay Diner with his friend I kept thinking;
‘If Joe and I were with each other it would be as if nothing happened? It will be it never happen?! That’s what I need to do!? I’ll be fine. Everything… fine.’
  After breakfast his friend got into his car and left;
Joe says he needs to head home to get some rest later-on he’s taking his mom, Rose, out to her other son’s house.
And, he says he’ll come for me once he drops her off… and we’ll go to the place underneath the Throgs-neck bridge  
How hard it was…
Joe parks and takes out his jug of ***** and grapefruit then begins talking? He’s talking???
As if there wasn’t …?  Like nothing happened… nothing??? He was simply sitting there saying something about Vincent and Helga???
“They’re going to drive mom home!”
He’s smiles? Saying, “They’ll take mom home from their house so we can stay here as long as we want!”
Every time he tries reaching for that jug or reaches out to put his hands on me…; I’d jump!?   I felt my skin crawling; there was a bubbling sensation all over in every last place that was touched; I felt my skin as if it going to burst out with blisters of poison! I needed to get home!? I need to wash this..!? I need not to have his hands touch… This thing I was???
‘He touches me, so help me God, I’ll open this car and run and throw myself into that water! I was shaking, I was sitting on the arm-rest of the door and I began yelling!? “Take Me Home! “
“You son of a …!  Can‘t you see; Can‘t you see!”
“I need home! I don‘t feel well!? “
“You, *******!  Get me home!”
No Clue. Still, He’s clueless to any difference??? He yells back at me, “What’s your problem?  You on the rag or something?”
He drove me home.  I open the door before he could try to park and I run inside; I locked myself into the bathroom. By time I was out the sun was up!

The phone begins ringing.  It’s Kelli Ann, “Sometime last night my grandma, Rose, died. “
I dropped the phone. My sister got on… with Kelli.
I just stood there numb; thinking how…
‘Dear God! Joe and I were at the bridge!  
If I told him what happened he would have been with her.”
He would have left me; But, He would have been with Rose?

Rose was the most amazing person to me; I adore her, I denied her… and I stopped him from being with her.
‘I didn’t want to lose him; I couldn’t see losing me again?!
And, I made it so he wasn’t there… for her.’
All the times he’s walked away from me, so many times; He’d say nothing and show up at the house with some girl.
And introduce her to the family; that was his way telling me just how important I was… That was his way of telling me he didn’t want me. And, I would stand there… act as if it wasn’t a big deal… ‘It must be nice… no feelings?’
But then after a while he would come back; It be like none of them knew a thing?! Yeah, not even what I did for a living?! When asked, what I did for a living, I’d tell them; I work as a Entertainment Manager for bars throughout the Tri-State area; Yeah right; I was entertaining and I did Manage… (I manage to get to and from my gigs and I was entertainment!) So, it’s not complete truth or lie. And, HELL, Joe can’t think too poorly of what I do; after-all it was his idea?!

It’s only three days before his birthday and here’s Joe having to make the arrangements for Rose’s ( his mother’s) wake; He turns to me and says,” My mom had these spills often before..; But, she’d always come back to me! I’d hold her hand and I’d call to her!  I wish I had been out by Vincent’s. She maybe…. Maybe she’d still be here with us.”
I felt… numb.
That night we were all at the wake;
I hover in doorways watching every person go in than back out again. I kept looking at Joe; I didn’t know why, but my mind, I wish it was him in that **** box. Isn’t that sick!  As much as I love Rose I’d wish her son could trade places??? How that would have been unbearable for Rose and yet…
The biggest reason Joe and I kept our being together a secret was her; She was by no means the only… not by a long-shot!  But, she was a most important reason. I could have never dealt with even a thought of her hating me for loving her son; I fear… loss; now, she’s gone. I love her; I want her back! I want her to know; I want to tell her! She never knew… he’s her grandchild? She’ll never know now.  Here knowing…, seeing everyone around feeling this loss for Rose; because of me… she might have still been here…? Only if…?
Thoughts, ‘My life is imploding; it’s all moving in slow motion. I don’t know how far… I don’t know if… I’ll survive this… this time? ’ I cling to straws; I can’t lose Joe; I can’t make my sister leave home? She’ll never make it on her own; I can’t tell Joe what happened? Then he’ll know all of this, everything, is my fault?!  I stopped him from being with Rose when she needed him most.
What if he’s to ask about little Joe…? With the way he feels about my sister? I never gave him an opportunity to ask out-right if he’s his before; it wasn’t me who told him. When I let him know I was having a baby I told him,” You could be the godfather?! He agreed to that… He didn’t ask, he didn’t want to know; and I couldn’t ever take the chance… Not then, not now; He’ll take my child away; He’ll take him and leave me?! I’ll have nothing I’ll be…?!
Say nothing; …perform as you go; Stay in survival mode!

The day of the burial:  We went to church and everybody goes up to the front. I didn’t know where to sit? None of the family told me where…?  Then, Kay Young, a neighbor and friend of my mother’s pulls me over and says to sit in the last row near her; so that’s what I did. Afterwards, when we were all outside someone told me to get into a car; a car which turns-out to be Lynne’s car!? Lynne and Kelli together were the ones who made it that Joe found out about the baby.
Thoughts, ‘… imploding; It’s all moving slowly… don’t know how far… or if I’ll survive, All this … this time? ’

After my son was born Lynne was the one who told Joey that others are saying little Joe was his… Joe wouldn’t ask me if he was the father and I was more than glad not to tell him! Yes, I know it’s extremely selfish; but I couldn’t risk losing another one. But, if I did I would have turned Joe’s life upside down for nothing.    
(My Joe was a preemie; barely six months along when he was born. My tiny baby boy needed to stay in a hospital from June 6 until Aug. 31st.. )  
It was June;  
We, a whole crew of us, were out at Rockaway‘s;
Kelli Ann and Lynne were making drinks and I had maybe five big drinks in those 20 oz. cups. To say I was blotto is beyond an understatement!

The two of them get going; they were told and they know that my baby was Joe’s; And, I have to tell him!

“I don’t know what you girls are talking… You’re wrong! Leave it alone!”  
“Everyone knows how you feel about him!?”
“What? Leave this alone! You don’t know what you’re talking…”  
“You’re going to have to tell him….?”
“Leave this alone; this is none of you business and you haven’t any idea of what you’re talking about!”  
“If you don’t tell him I will!”
“I’m telling the two of you to leave the man alone!”
“Well, he needs; he has a right to know!”  
I got up and say, “Apparently, I do need to talk to him about something? Don’t I?!

I turn to go find Joey! I need to talk to him about what Lynne and Kelli are saying to me…??? There, in mid-turn, I slap in face into his chest; Joe’s standing there hearing every word of what was being said.
He yells at me; saying, ”What… This is ******-up!”
I start crying; I run towards the beach! Thinking, How am I going to tell him? How can I say I couldn’t tell you, I could trust you! How do you say to the man you love that you left him to believe he wasn’t… because having this baby means more than he does; And, if he knew he was the father when he was told about the baby he would have just been another person, in this life, trying to stop this baby from being born. I lost too many; He’s mine! No-one’s taking him from me. Not even his father.  How do you say this…  
I went up to the bench on the boardwalk; I would always sit in that same spot; I was crying.  
Joe comes up behind me;
He says,” What are you going to do now? **** yourself!?”

I didn’t try looking at him; I just spoke holding my tears, ” No…, You’re not worth that!”
A long time passes as the two of us stare out at the surf.
He said,” So…?”

Painfully, I remind him his words he told me, at Christmas time, when we first…;
“Joe, do you remember, what you said to me? The very first time I told you how much I love you? Do you remember?  Joe, you told me, “Don’t!”  
Then you told me, “You’re just for now?! No attachments! Remember?”    

Joey turns and goes back to the bungalow; He gathered up his stuff, takes Lynne and leaves. He wouldn’t speak to me again until mid-October after, I got little Joe back after my mother and my grandfather kidnapped him.
When I got my baby back his stomach… There was something wrong? Every time I try to give him his milk it wasn’t staying down in his tiny body?!
I was so frightened; I saw Rose outside the house and I ran-up to her for help; she goes downstairs with the baby and gets out baby cereal she mixed it with the baby-milk?
“Rose? The doctors told me I’m not to give the baby anything but the baby-milk?”
  
Rose said, “Don’t worry; I’ve seen this before… Don’t you get scared?”

She force-fed Joey some of mix and in moments the baby threw-up every drop of what Rose gave him; she cleans him up and shoves the bottle of plain baby-milk into his mouth; He was drinking it on his own!
She tells me the baby’s stomach was shut-down. She says, “Sometimes baby’s go through this failure to thrive when there’s too much turmoil around them. But, this little guy here is alright now.” She hands him to me and says, “Now, He has his Mama.”
Joe came down stairs from his room he must have heard the yelp I made as the baby threw-up the cereal-mixture.
Rose saved the baby’s life that day, her grandbaby.
And, now, I’m sitting in this *****’s Lynne’s car; I’m going to say goodbye to dearest woman I ever knew… ‘I wish it was me going into that hole.
Later, we all went to eat out at a place on the Blvd and then the family came back home. We stayed up late and Joe’s brother from Florida with his wife and their two kids went upstairs. They bunked-down in Rose’s living room and Joe and I were down the basement in the kitchen. We finish cleaning the dishes and he tells me to come with him to his room;
“They will sleep ‘til three; Both, Butchy and Sandy have been drinking since seven this morning.”
I went with him; I felt so numb. I belong to him; I love him. I just need to let this happen then everything will be the way it’s…I am his.

I kept saying, “My Love, I belong to you! I need you! I love you! Joe, you are everything to me!  You are my life! My head kept whispering” You didn’t stop it; you allowed another to take what belongs to Joe.
You are nothing.
I kept repeating to Joe, “I belong to you Always, I’m yours.” I kept saying the words over and over to him; I didn’t want to stop telling him, I am his…
When he fell asleep and I was sure he was asleep; I got up and slipped out of his room. Sandy caught me leaving his room; I saw her and I stood there like a deer in headlights!
Sandy just asked, “Is he still up in there?”
I said, “No.” and, I went fast out the door and ran home.
I need to check on my sister and my son; I didn’t want Joe’s brother or any of the rest of the family getting any notions. Running into Sandy as I left Joe’s room scared the hell out of me! But, she was … Sandy didn’t remember seeing me. She says she doesn’t remember anything after she ate dinner down-stairs.
That was the last time him and me…              
Joe was pretty busy while the out-of-towners’ were stopping by and with all the paperwork needed to be done…  I just hung-out with Kelli; I figure, when he’s not too busy he’ll talk to me.
It was a few weeks after that night; Joe comes up stairs where Kelli and I were; he asked Kelli to leave us alone.

He handed me all the papers he was holding for me and told me,” Don’t you ever talk to me again! You are a nothing; do you hear me? A nobody! You’re a worthless ***** and I don’t want to ever have to look at you again!”
Then, he went down and locked the door, hard.  
Kelli Ann comes back in and asks why he’s acting like that towards me; I told her, I don’t know?  And, I didn‘t?! I didn’t until nearly two months later when I went to the doctors; then, I knew.
I have gone back to work; But, I will never go back up to *****’s!
I met-up with Denise a few days after I went back to work; we were both at the Golden Dollar; she was just leaving as I’m walking in…  She slaps $350.into my hand saying, “Thanks for taking care of my friend! Gotta’run!” She’s out the door before I could tell her what happen to me wasn’t, by any means, by chose.
Time passes; it’s now, nearing my birthday; I’m hearing about how Joe’s spending his time with Lynne; So, I decide I to write a letter to Kelli. I could stop kelli from mistreating Joe, for what wasn’t ever Joe’s choice in the first place, and I can stop Joe from being convinced into taken my child away from me by that *****, Lynne.
Joe wants to be with that… that’s his business; she thinks the two them will take my child? Not that *****!  That ***** won’t ever get to put her hands on my child! After what she did on June 4th and 28th and so many other times… With his wanting to be with her it makes it a whole lot easier for me to feel a deep disgust towards him. Joe thought me to be such a no-body; he thinks me so cheap… He left me months ago unaware… in pain and he thinking I would want…
  Fine, two birds’ one stone?!   I don’t want her mistreating him for our not being together… It’s not his fault I went to work; but if he’s going to try at any point to come and take little Joe away?! I can’t let that to ever happen!
I wrote Kelli a letter saying his in no way my child’s father and for her to stop mistreating him like he had done something wrong his mother has died and you are being nasty to him. I can’t be friends with you anymore I have too much in my life I need to take care of my son and my sister and I told her I hope the best for her in her life. I wrote… using six pages of words but this is the full gist of it.
I thought if some day things are different and he and I find our way back to one another again; Kelli would have a chance to confront me in front of him about the letter and I’d be able to ask Joe for a signed a waiver of parental rights and then I could ask him to have a DNA test done. But for now, my son will remain where he belongs…with me.

How it is that all this started; why must this be...
Tommy Johnson Feb 2014
The moment for us to say our goodbyes has come
Our eyes will flood then we’ll be on our way
A final farewell to what once belonged to both of us
Times run out but we have plenty of regrets

My brown eyed November
You’ll never know what you were worth to me
Even after the fights, the excruciating frustration

I would walk on broken glass barefoot just to get to you
To be honest there isn’t much I’d do for you
But now I can’t do anything
I gave you everything and you walked away

I know, but you don’t
Have a clue how much damage you’ve done to me
I never told you my secrets
I never told you everything

My brown eyed November
You don’t know how much you meant to me
The moon fall and the sun rise
Shine on our lies

I knew you were treacherous
Yet I still clinged to you hoping maybe it would all change

Let’s end this, I want it
I need to calm down

My brown eyed November
You are truly invaluable
The ocean bathes us the sand dries
Cleansing our lives

You couldn’t care less
My appreciation goes unappreciated
If it isn’t and I am wrong
Please, now is the time to tell me

The karma
Bad karma
The cause of all of this

The memories of you will stay even when you are gone
Mistrust will linger but hope resonates
We’re like summer in the fall, we’re leaving
Mistreating, believing
After all this I don’t want to be your one and only victim
What do you care? You never believed in soul mates or in true love

I can’t stay, even though I want to
You gave false hope and empty promises
Injected me with a tranquilizer and put me in a state of gullibility
Was I dramatic or miserable?
I know you can’t be replaced, why would I want another one like you?
So good bye my brown eyed November
Kim Davis Oct 2013
Once there was a girl
Who could feel
A young, playful, and truly memorable child
naturally born to lead, learn, and strive,
Jumped in front of any camera she saw,
because she wanted all eyes on her.
Yet that didn't prevent an inevitable day,
an insignificant, random day
when she was faced with her new reality.
An old lady took a fall,
an animal she'd grew with began its downward spiral towards death
a neighbor robbed of weapons,
and no more did the girl get attention,
but was rather brought to the attention that the world was cruel.
But attention was her drive, her motivation to live
and taken from her, she desperately tried to regain her spirit
but couldn't handle everything she'd ever known changing on her,
and a little girl, third grade, began a path of self destruction.
The natural leader now a follower,
The playful girl turned her interests into other people's pain,
She enjoyed that year the most she could,
secretly hating the old woman, mistreating her
saying her goodbyes to the dog that was there years before she was born,
grades turning from all A's, to B's, to C's, to D's and F's,  year by year.
getting rejected just a few times, but over-complicating it, as she would do everything later,  
taking it personal, letting it destroy her
and so the little girl grew,
first into an angry, manipulative version of herself,
she was no longer slender, pretty, or girly in any way.
She was a wreck. No care for herself anymore.
Sharpened her finger with a pencil sharpener.
When mad, would beat herself up.
Demented, but that was just covering a layer of desire for attention.
Something so simple, something everyone has to learn to live without, took such a toll on a little girl, because it was just cut off, one insignificant day.
But one day she got attention again, months after another
insignificant day.
This insignificant day, she remembers,
daddy standing by the mailbox
she was outside playing with neighbors
and she heard daddy talk funny.
A sliver in his voice, that was never there, was it?
and listening, she heard it again,
and she looked at dad, and in his eyes, he wasn't there.
his body, his face, his smile, but his eyes weren't there.
And the little girl ignored it.
But daddy was in pain for months. Didn't tell a soul.
and when that sliver in voice kept going, mom forced him to go to the doctor.
But the sliver wasn't it, there was blood, daddy was coughing blood.
And so the doctor diagnosed it as bronchitis.
But it was deeper than that, it was the big C,
and the little girl knew that daddy saw it coming
his smoking tripled
and he got a recorder so as to record what he was thinking
and there was that night, at her aunts, everyone in the kitchen,
the little girl heard it from a distance,
cancer,
but she wanted to be wrong, so bad.  
She gets in the car with her mom, and receives the news,
but upon seeing her mother crying, doesn't know what to do.
She was supposed to be strong for her mother, everyone expected that of her,
but everyone also expected her to be fragile, and wanted her to cry more than anyone about her dad.
But the conflicting emotions resulted in the girl, not so little anymore, to grow up.
To shut off all human emotion, to be a walking robot. To never cry, never feel.
That made everything pile up in her head.
Daddy had cancer.
Daddy was doing Radiology treatments.
Daddy's treatments were failing.
Daddy was getting skinnier.
Daddy was doing Chemo.
Daddy was trying to **** himself.
Daddy was in and out of the hospital.
Daddy wanted her there.
Daddy needed her there.
Daddy cried in front of her and asked, "Why don't you love me anymore?" because she showed her disinterest in tying his shoes for him since he couldnt.  
But there's nothing more terrifying, than seeing someone one genuinely cares about in the hospital.
Than being afraid to break the person one loves in half with just a hug.
Daddy was dying, and daddy wouldn't talk all day until she got home, even if it was just a hey and a smile.
To this day, she'd love to say now that she would go back, and do it all differently, show that she loved him, not that she was disgusted in what he'd become, but  she knows herself, and she'd shut herself down again in a heartbeat.  
Daddy died of three types of cancer,
and the little girl got the attention she'd longed for, but in the form of pity.
But she hated pity.
She stopped doing anything.
Couldn't go out with friends,  secluded herself in her mind.
Until she found a way to be herself and get attention, and became someone new.
Then someone else.
Then someone else.
And then the girl was no longer herself, she was someone who made an impact on people.
Someone who people were attracted to,
Someone who had friends,
Someone who had company who couldn't physically show her pity,
company that satisfied her romantic desires, and company that was there when she was down,
and who she could manipulate to her desire, to understand men and women on a deeper level.
And that sweet, playful, little girl, was a monster.
Divided in two, she emoted on a fake half of her, a half that wasn't her, a fake story personified,
what was left of that little girl was skinned, and buried in dirt.
So when the girl had had enough damage inflicted on the sane, but fake side of her,
and was unhappy regardless of who she was that day,  at that hour,
she would tell herself it was over, it was time, this should have ended a long time ago,
and her skinned corpse of a soul was trying to crawl out of its grave,
pulled back by the dark cloud it became, and buried again with the fake's love,
because that side of her, with skim, but human emotion,
couldn't bear to hurt people it'd already done enough damage to.
So one day, when she was found out, by best friend and an ex, it was a sigh of relief,
just to feel the air on that hand, reaching up to get out of her grave.
But she didn't know that what followed was losing half the people she loved,
most being the ones she loved most, the most active in her life at the given moment,
And even then, with the remaining few, she felt too awkward in that situation,
too conflicted, that she once again, turned off her emotions.
And now, what's left?
A broken little girl, in a big, damaged carcass, freezing in mud, staring down at her own grave, unable to find her skin.
T'yana Brown Oct 2015
Overcame just about everything in life

Mothers death was the first
Raising five younger siblings
Clothing Bathing Cooking and so much more
With God I stood strong. I was only 10 years old.

Fathers abuse was second
He really showed me what wasn't love but I felt in my heart I was showing grace by understanding his frustration over his deceased wife.
The beatings (Slaps Kicks Punches Abandonment). The Blood. The sadness.
His loud threats. Words that were mistreating. The pain.

Yet I love this man but can't find respect for him.

Relationships
Started off as not caring for nobody.
As I matured into this woman I started to want this thing called Love.
I was afraid because I felt I didn't know how.  
Come to find, that I love and love well but I'm receiving a cycle of being mistreated..

I'm still standing  Strong
#LETITTREND
kg Sep 2013
if i could scrub all the scars
off my heart and body,
i would in a heartbeat
remove the disease that plagues me.

when i was younger,
i didn't fit in right with the other kids.
i was always thinking about other things,
reading books, drawing, and writing about things
that were far too old for me.

i would daydream of a world that was different,
where magic lived and i could be an adventurer,
all i would have to do is crawl through a door
but there was never a door. magic isn't real.

maybe i've become bitter as i've aged,
my parents divorced the first time while i was in third grade
and i watched my mother date other men and
my father crumple in sadness.

a year later, they remarried each other
and i thought that true love existed and mommy and daddy
were going to be together forever
no matter what.

my brother seemed happy enough,
though i never saw him much because of our age gap
but he would play games with me sometimes and yell at me
and call me dumb other times so i assumed he was okay.

though sophomore year mommy left daddy again
because he was more of a best friend than a husband to her,
which i understand that feelings change and it's okay
and during the divorce both of them came to me in private
to talk about what was going on,
he did this, she did that, so upset.

i had a boyfriend that begun mistreating me at the time
but i was strong, i thought, i can handle this and help everyone
at the same time and everything will be okay
but mom left and dad got a girlfriend and i was nothing
and everything just died in my hands.

maybe i am bitter,
my heart is breaking constantly.
i remember how it felt the first time it broke,
and the all the other times,
what i was wearing and how my hair looked, where i was
how i clutched at my chest and wailed in misery
and now i just silently lie in bed
on the covers listening to music.

i feel defeated.
i wasn't meant for this life, it's too much for me to handle.
others can take moments like this in stride,
get better and move on but where do i move on to
what am i supposed to do
i don't have any answers and i've been around for twenty years.

i'm defeated.
and bitter.
Kevin T Norman Nov 2013
I love too much, but not too often.
My heart gets broken, but I keep going.

I am transparent, iridescent like glass,
So when you strike with the force of a hammer you leave more than a crack.

My heart is fragile, a bird with a broken wing.
I thought you would fix it and make it continue to sing.

I stand tall and confident in all my feelings,
Something that’s scary to you who is not used to these dealings.

I feel shame for the way I am.
Feeling love and passion for you that I wish I could bury in the sand.

A treasure left for you to uncover,
Not something I should have exposed to you undiscovered.

I tend to frighten away the one my heart wants to hold,
Do you see me as crazy, uncontrolled, too bold?

I often take broken loves words and wear them as scars.
Reminders of lessons unlearned and love unforetold by the stars.

I try their words on as an outfit of choice.
If I can change who I am, maybe for once someone will appreciate my voice.

But often times it’s too late.'
My true self exposed in revelations of hate.

No matter how hard I try to mold and bend,
I can’t change who I am, I can’t please every man.

But for some reason I never stop trying.
I can never give up my mind and hearts constant fighting.

I literally drive myself insane for a chance at true love.
I let my mind run wild for an ecstasy that will never come.

Because if I am changing who I am to achieve what I was fooled to see as true,
I’m mistreating myself and I assault my love leaving it ****** and bruised.

It’s funny how the world can constantly build me high,
But it only took you to send me crashing through the sky.

And when I fell and hit the ground,
The armor I built was shattered around.

Underneath it all I could finally see,
The only thing that remained intact was the original me.

I, myself, am my greatest force of nature.
And when I try to change who I am I’m in immediate danger.

The second I wear a mask to fool someone I love,
Is the second that my love is broken, recanted, torn up.
It’s not love if I’m not myself.
It’s not true if I pretend to be someone else.

I’m done being a victim in your insecure schemes,
But I’m also done pretending I walked away perfectly clean.

Yes I am hurt, and yes I wanted our love to be,
But I won’t sacrifice myself for you I’d rather let you go free,
Because somewhere, out there, there’s someone who wants me.

All my imperfections and everything you made me see as faults,
I consider beautiful, rare, a gift to make someone’s world halt.

I’m not sorry for the way I express myself.
I’m just sorry it has to be for someone else.

I love too much, but not too often.
My heart gets broken, but I, I keep going.
GaryFairy Sep 2015
what makes a person worthy or worthless?
murmuring burden and hearse certain curses
first in the furnace for the hurt or the nervous
on verges of searches for earthly purpose

what makes a people deceiving and evil?
mistreating their equal and beating the feeble
bleeding of demons and beasts of the lethal
there's a reason to believe in eden of peaceful

what makes a person worthy or worthless?
versus urges emerge first on the surface
bird of the furthest turns and then merges
on verges of surges of a worthy purpose
i worked with "er" and long "e" vowel sounds
Clindballe Jul 2015
I wish you could forget, put your heart in a glove
there is no such thing as to heal, no one from above
no butterfly, no turtledove
do not start mistreating, you need a little shove
begin reheating, forget all cheating and just love
Written: July 31. - 2015
Damaré M Jun 2013
-Mariah: "what makes you different"?
•Johnathan: "I don't want you, I need you"
-Mariah: "what do you need from me"?
•Johnathan: "I need your heart and I need to give you mines"
-Mariah: "What are you gonna do with my heart"?
•Johnathan: "I'm going to cradle it right aside my own, I'm going to compress them together so I won't miss a beat of your life"
-Mariah: "well you already missed every beat up until now. My heart has taken a beaten and I don't think you can heal it"
•Johnathan: "I can't heal it by myself you have to help me"
-Mariah: "If you're good enough of a man then you can do it alone"
•Johnathan: (interrupting) "wrong"
-Mariah: "I need a man to be able to carry the load. I'm right I don't think that you can do it, and if you can't do it by yourself you can't do it"
•Johnathan: "So you're telling me that you want a man who put up all the effort to comfort and please you but in return his heart remain empty; what are you gonna do to keep love loving you?"
-Mariah: "I usually make a guy prove to me that he really love me before I can show him my love, I'm worth it. Right?"
•Johnathan: "it's not all about worthiness. Worthiness doesn't always consist of how much value another person place upon you. Especially if a person don't get the results from what they invested all their time and mind in. If the person isn't satisfied themselves, they're only tired, then where's the "worth" in that deal? That's only gambling"
-Mariah: "So you're telling me that I'm not worth it"?
•Johnathan: "Mariah listen do you think I would be here trying to fix something that's broke if it doesn't mean anything?"
-Mariah: "I don't know would you? And how am I suppose to know that you're not just trying to break me more?"
•Johnathan: "because if I was trying to break your more I would tell you that you're only useful for pleasure. Besides if you remember, I said that I wanna give you my heart as well; therefore, I'm putting my feelings on the line too. I can get hurt as well as you could. You do know men can hurt huh?"
-Mariah: "Every man that I came across seem not to care, so from my experience I don't know if men hurt. Men only seem to think and feel with their penises. Look I heard it all and I'm tired of men I don't wanna hear anymore lies"
•Johnathan: "Well have you ever thought that it was just the men that you are attracted to? And have you ever thought that you are attracted to boys and not men? And have you ever considered the fact that boys only do exactly what it is that they think they can do? So mistreating you, lying, and relying solely on ****** relations they thought was well within their rights; moreover, the rights that you granted them".
-Mariah: (She storms off angrily without saying anything)

The truth is blistering to lies told and  lies lived.
Hearing the truth kills all disputes
But if she's scared of the truth then she'll find herself comforted by lies
Men try to be supplementary to souls
And boys deter lives
They chase thrilling moments
And if she run off of fun as well, then let the games begin
But the heart is so dramatic that excitement always ends
Serious men...
Come along and by then pain is plain
She's used to it like a pilot in a plane soaring over terrain
And love is a joystick
She only had a demo
Mistakenly she judges the entire franchise from the games that the rookies played
Discrediting hall of fame names and the ones who has not yet been  inducted
She handed her heart to freshmen and they muffed it
They were too inexperienced to coach her that when she  hear the truth to trust it

Mariah is used to liars
Johnathan is a honest man
Michael Ryan Mar 2013
Strange danger, awaits around not the corner, but within ourselves.
The danger is present in every crevasse of our being.
No we do not possess the danger to wreak havoc upon ourselves.
It is as dangerous as a thunder storm in July.
When fireworks should be booming, spelling out words, and making us dream, just like Walt Disney.
There should be pies and pies and only pies, because why not have only pies.
They should be of all kinds blue, red, purple, orange the taste of a rainbow should rest in our tummies.
Everyone that passes by won't wonder how did they get so many pies, they will wonder, can I have some?
And I will tell them, why are you asking, the pies are begging to be eaten, can't you see?
Because in July when there should be Thunder storms, not this day, I offer you pie.
There will be no mistreating, no mistaking, no one will pronounce your name as cobbler in this day.
And when all the mighty and delicious pies that were never mistaken for cobbler, are gone.
All will know this was some very special day in July.  Where the thunder storms stopped.
Where someone just as special as those pies, but probably not as delicious.
Came to give us all what we were craving, and represented it with pie.
To those that weren't there, they will always think, pie pie pie I wonder what was so unique about this pie.
What is pie?
brandon nagley Jul 2015
As tis I've noticed in this new dawning age, men and women used to know what the real meaning of love was. Men used to open doors for their women, men would take care of all of their women's needs, and treat her as a queen, as if you notice hardly any men no more call their women Queen's anymore. They've put them on magazines to be eyed down by perverted men, the media and newscast makes it as if ( normalcy) to lust. To put a false reality in man's head. To make young BOYS and men alike think " gee, these women ( actuality being Queens) are nothing more than a ****** object, nothing more good to life than to be a ****** object, material, and slave to man's wants and devlish desires... As verily, I tell you, Satan is behind the magic screen, in spiritual realm, and on our own hellish planet. As my god of Christ taught which BTW don't care what you feel of mine own beliefs. The scripture sais (Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour.).. 1st Peter chap 5 verse 8....as truth is Satan walks around seeking who he may devour.. He's a master schemist and artist at falsehood. As man is following the way of him.. Man since a young age has been taught the woman is a slave. A *** object. A material, which sickens me to see men these days all around this earth call women their ( *****, *****, ***, ****, ****, the list can go on....... As I don't like to *** whatsoever I don't believe in cussing, just because I don't *** doesn't mean I'm better than those of you who do BTW. Just my god taught for one to bridle our tounge, meaning ( hold it back,) and to watch how we speak. Because how we say things is an example of who we are and what be believe.... As I said I'm not better than any of you as some may think that I think that I am better... I'm a sinner Im no saint I'm just giving you truth ones may not seek to hear or listen to... We are suppose to speak holy in a way at least not in that manner... And for a man to call a queen ( **** or *****) he has lost sight, a woman was put here to be loved, cherished and treated as a queen, a jewel, a gem. A treasure!! if you would go out in the desert and look for gold . wouldn't you treasure that treasure? Wouldn't you respect it? As you would yourself? If you even have respect for you? If you do not respect yourself I pray you will see your own beauty friend, as god doesnt want us like that, and wants us to cherish our queens and loves... And it isn't just men, fact is women to do same to men, call their men ( *******, so on) can't you see? We are here to cherish, comfort, and love another beings,  many ask the ??? Who believe and don't believe in God... What is your purpose eh? For one your purpose is to love. That's the fulfilling of gods law. Whether you believe in him or not we are put here to love cherish and forgive another and comfort another. As I say always. Without forgiveness there is NO love, and without love there is No forgiveness.... You must have both. As do I notice daily so much hatred for your fellow man, and even pets/and animals around the world, you **** another, and hurt, and hold onto grudges against another.   Don't you see??? God taught us to forgive. You wanna know why forgive?? Because when you hold onto those grudges of past pain's and anger against another... It hurts you more than it does the other person. And for one God doesn't want that for you. He wants us happy. He wants us not slave to our angers and hurt and fears... As so many hold back their love BTW because of fear of everything. And we wonder why we aren't moving ahead in life. Yes the human in me fears things to. I'm not perfect but when it comes to love, why hold back? Why? When tommorrow we might not have another chance to forgive one or to love the people we truly do in this life... And then when we die we have to carry that burden or anger, hurt, regret and the things we ( didint say, or do) onto the next life... And that is a far bigger burden than I need or anyone else does friends... And people these day's will put all their time into car's, money, homes, materials, earthly things!!! Which yes, are wonderful to have... But what if that lover you love that you show no love to or have been mistreating or putting on the back-burner dies today? Or tommorrow? You'd regret every last minute as the ones who have lost their loved ones whether family,moms, dads, brothers, sisters, wives, husband, boyfriends, girlfriends, so on have found out... When they loose sight of what's important, love , then we loose who we are, we loose all meaning to what life should be about.... Love... And if you loose sight of love. Surely you've lost sight of what your life should be about .....to many take life and love for granted, Maby you should take a look at what's important, because in the next life we can't carry our money, cars. Or houses, or materials on, we only have our souls, and the things meaning actions, love, and feelings we have onto the next life... Maby you should think of that


God bless,
Brsndon nagley


©Brandon Cory nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©love and truth and thoughts...
This is for all people not aimed at one.  All
Adriana Rose Jun 2021
Why is it I can forgive you
For mistreating me.

But not myself
For staying.
nnylhsa Dec 2013
comparing,
replacing,
mistreating,
misleasing.
are just a few
things youve
turned our relationship
into in such a short time period.

loving,
caring,
baring,
always daring,
are just a few
things we could
acheive in our relationship
in such a short time period.

(a.b)
Asante Marner Apr 2015
Drip Drop
That's my heart bleeding
Why are you seceding?
I thought you were the one
Your lies stabbed me in the heart
How could you say you love me
But then depart?
Now , I'm trapped
Trapped by the voices in my head
Telling me I ought to be dead
Going from one another
Mistreating the one that's unlike the others
My heart is saying NO SANTE NO but...
My mind is telling me GO SANTE GO
BOOM
There it is did something I regret
I just knew that boy was a threat
Drip Drop
There's the tears
Smearing my glasses
"I learned my lesson"
Now the voices are saying "Babygirl wipe those tears, LEAVE ALL OF THEM ALONE, JUST ATONE
Stay low, keep your head up
Don't let them know
BANG BANG
Let me out! Let me out!
I'm now free
Michael A Duff Sep 2019
a girl so clever, prideful, a ego so large to fool you into thinking you were at fault and undeserving, the one mistreating her.

She'd have in the corner as she told you your feelings and how you were to be,  and all you wanted was more.

Blind to the fact she was drowning you with her presence,  walking you to deep waters of sadness, and twisted truths.

She smashes souls and closes the door without a mere glance back, to bait another into the fog of disfunction

Sadly she had my heart completely, she opened it, filled like never before and crushed it because she could in a matter of years

Hearts mend, but the scars are permanent
A girl had me completely like none had ever had, twisted me turned like a sail in the wind, and one day without notice found fault in me so deep to cut me in two, and leave me, my life scrambled and heart broken in tiny peices not easily found
A glowing presence appeared before me; was I awake or was I asleep?
I thought her first a stranger; she wasn't a stranger at all.
“What is your name?” I asked. She answered: “My name is Photon.”
I thought how weird a name to be called.

“Who are you and where are you from?”
…thinking how mysterious she was.
“I was discovered over a million years ago,
and abide by whomever gives me cause!”

“You have known me all your life.” she exclaimed.
“I am powerful, mighty, and transcendent.
If not tamed, I deliver widespread loss and destruction.”
“Only God is omnipotent and omnipresent!” I clamored.

“That is true; but I was created that way for a reason.
Mistreating me results in death; respect me, and you will rejoice.
I can be a good servant, or a cruel master.
It is you who must make the choice.”

“Are you some kind of a god? Seemingly irritated she replied:
“I am not! The power lies in your hands, not mine!
You decide to use me for good or for bad. I must respond to both.
I can be a friend or foe...bring darkness or cause a light to shine.”

As her illumination began to dissipate, I  asked:
“Where do you go from here?” “All over! My work will never end.
My task is be a companion forever, to those who chose not to believe...
but the true, righteous, and faithful, they shall never see me again.”

“Just one more question,” I pleaded, 'before you go, tell me:
who are you really, and when will you again transpire?'
“I travel the world over and manifest wherever I am called.
My name is Photon; but I'm mostly known as fire!”


By Milton Lopez Delgado
May 16, 2016
I was inspired to write this Poem while reading a book by Billy Graham entitled: "Where I Am." I was very intrigued by the name of the last chapter: "The Eternal Flame;" I could not stop writing until it was completed. I must say: "It's one of my best works!" Of course, this is my opinion. I would like, however, to ask anyone who takes the time to read: 'My Name Is Photon", to send me your interpretation of this Poem, along with any comments, questions, or opinions  you may wish to share; I am hoping they will match my intent. Thank you.

Sincerely,

Milton L. Delgado
Julia Mae Dec 2016
i would lay in bed most nights and think a lot. it happened when i was wondering what the hell i was doing. why i was still here. i thought of every last terrible thing i allowed others to do to me. how i forgave, again and again. how much hurt i further allowed. how deeply i knew that i was being treated badly but i still chose to not walk away.
i wanted to hug myself. i wanted to sob. i broke my own heart more than others ever had for me. it took me so long to realize how emotionally unattached i truly was from myself. how not one drop of self-love existed. except on these nights, when the full realization would hit me, and i would weep for myself. over every last terrible thing i endured and accepted. the future mistreating i was currently allowing, and would allow to continue.
i lived in such shadow of myself that it took years to realize i was good. that though i hate myself, i never deserved any of that. i am good.
i lay here some nights with burning eyes and wetness upon my cheeks. breaking my own heart over and over thinking of everything. knowing i still don't have the strength to completely walk away. is this how i am going to live? in constant emotional turmoil and self-inflicted abuse? is this all i am? all that i ever have been? am i just going to remain miserable, allowing them to keep hurting me?
i wanted to hug myself. i began to somewhat love myself, i guess. no one will ever break your heart as much as yourself.
Labyrinth Mar 2014
I had a dream,

There was a sunset,
It's the end,
It's time to rest,

There was a playground,
It's an escape from reality,
It's meditation after a personal conflict,

There was embrace,
It's the need for affection,

There was warmth,
It's happiness for where I am,
It's hope and unconditional love,


There was a sorry,
It's for mistreating you,
It's for hurting you,

There was you.
And there was me.
The marmalade light was settling in across a lonely playground. I was standing there, looking at the playground until I spotted a shadowed figure on a swing. I began to stroll to that mysterious person until I saw his face. The face was so familiar, his wondrous lips, his soft cheekbones, his affectionate nose, his curved jaws and his pondering eyes… It was Norman. I stood there watching him sit on the swing, his eyes looking back at me. I ran in for a strong embrace, he hugging me back the moment the tip of our fingers touched. My arms wrapping around him, like all the warmth and goodness of the world was being given to me. It felt so sincere, beautiful and heating.

I began to close my body onto his like two small puzzle pieces finally finding their true partner after too many trial and errors. My arms cling passionately onto his strong, calm shoulders. And my legs swinging from the other end of the wooden swing. Norman then began to converse to me, converse to me like he never had before. ‘I’m sorry’, he sensitively tells me ‘that I’m never there for you’. I don’t utter a single word or a single sound, all I needed to know was that he was sorry, and that he really did love me. I was so desperate to cry, but was so very warm, I felt like this was where I belonged, my home; on an empty playground with a handsome sun setting on its horizon giving a burning glow, and the boy I loved sitting on a broken swing, waiting for someone to take him away.

It was all quiet then, him just looking at the sun as if it was giving its last golden glow to the world, me enfolding into him like he was a child I had lost for so many years. And while the world was silently meditating, a million thoughts leisurely oozed into my mind like rich, dark chocolate lovingly melting onto fresh, red strawberries. Perhaps he wasn't there for me because he was busy with school, perhaps he was busy with drama, or perhaps he was busy... too busy…. talking to that girl that he is so adoringly devoted to.

The thought stayed inside my mind, touching every corner of my imagination. But, for some unknown reason, I had no feeling of envy or loathe towards her. Yet I could feel an aura of pure jealously hitting me. The figure sending those vibes, gave a tremendous shadow as he stood in front of the orange, vanishing sun. Watching me and Norman as we tightly embraced. The figure made me scared, like the night was already reining over the world.

30.03.2014
My Norman No More
Dondaycee May 2018
(Flobots)
“I can ride my bike with no handlebars,
nooo handlebars, nooo handlebars,
I can ride my bike with no handlebars,
nooo handlebars, nooo handlebars,
Look at me, look at me,
Hands in the air like it’s good to be…”
Alive; I’m a happy Artist because songs like this make me feel so dope,
Because not only can I hit a note,
I speak into existence everything they wrote,
This makes me think of my generation: The
Millennials,
Because we grew up knowing we’re dope how could they possibly expect us, a collective of genius to choke?
I know I sound pessimistic, but I’m equally optimistic,
I dislike the characteristics in materialistic,
Check the statistics, it’s unrealistic,
Emphasize artistic, ambition, or even narcissistic,
Simplicity shouldn’t be complicated, it’s our form of linguistics,
For some reason, imagination is not idealistic,
So those who use the right brain are classified as autistic,
Idiocracy was an illness, it’s why we **** us,
But get this,
They said I can be anything, I picked genius,
That’ll get you killed,
It doesn’t require skill so that career is of inconvenience,
I trusted myself, I discovered the paradox of choice, and taught that,
I took the old philosophy, modernized it along with the understanding of consciousness, and promised honestly when I harnessed it that the knowing would be brought back,
Anyone who’s been following my work would have caught that,
This is potent ambition, I saw an inevitable position,
Where my peers existed; some missin,
I told God: “I understand free will and all, but it’s the reason we’re able to **** at all”
So God blessed me with another vision,
It was an opportunity based on decision,
It was one without the condition of division,
Look man, I give love, I don’t expect anything in return,
I understand respect isn’t something you earn,
You give it because you have it,
It’s not a lesson we learn,
****… I can’t form a linear thought to explain what I’m doing,
I’m just looking for ways to ensure that you win,
I studied the mental and emotional state,
Because we already have answers for the physical,
I extend my hand to heal and they pointed a gun,
Like my philosophy is something political,
“**** me if you must, regardless I’ll still love you”
POP! POP!
Two in the chest like it was analytical,
My skin is dark, dogmatic things; it wasn’t the reason,
It’s fear in others; “I’m having a problem breathing”,
Stereotypical became sociopolitical when umbilical became mystical,
I’m talking Roots, trace it back to the tree and you’ll find intelligence,
A time where humans had elegance,
Adam fell and hit his knee,
Eve had left because she thought it was right,
I’m talking Roots, where slaves are black; whom only express negligence,
A time where hell was heaven sent,
Atoms, cells, no harmony,
We thought left like there wasn’t a right,
And these two stories happened at the same **** time,
You gotta understand that this is life,
Because these two stories is why we can’t think right,
The problem isn’t man, it’s with sight, side, sign, light,
This isn’t physical, but you see words,
Assume I am bleeding,
Resume to save me IF I am leaving,
Ignore the mistreating,
Adore the fist beating,
I’ll get to my feet and walk one day,
Maybe not, walk away,
But I’ll have just enough energy to talk one way,
One word before grave,
“Some nerve of em aye?”
Because I can say “Love” before I drop and decay,
And they’ll say “Where’s the ambition?”,
Before firing a third round…
After the sound, a laugh was missing,
Looking eye to eye; the rest cried like it was I who did this,
I, was crucified,
He, was suicide,
And they, had to decide if they would choose love, or fear bassed off the previous concision…
jeffrey conyers Sep 2012
You with him.
And it appears you're happy.
Until I heard the news.
That according to them.
He's mistreating you.

I hope that's not the case.
Cause in my heart.
You still-have a special place.

But you seem fair from my vantage point.
Then your friends states that's the image he wants.
Until I heard the news.
I wouldn't have believe it.

I just know.
If ever you needs me.
Here I'll be.

Then again.
Knowing how I feel about you.
I might have to step in.
If only to protect you.

You deserves to be loved.
And not treated cruel.
Because you deserves more.
Then what he wants for you.
Kida Price Jan 2013
I'm isolated, suffocated

I can't see straight cause I'm asphyxiated.

Gasping with nothing but space and air

Who thought a surplus of something would leave you dying here.

I stand. I collapse.

I'm begging for any kind of relapse.

I need a pulse a grain of life

Because monotone affection won't suffice.

I clench and grit to voices I've heard.

They're telling me a sercret to a cure.

Not that I'm sick, I suffer from health,

Not that I'm poor, I'm drowning in wealth.

I'm loved but subistitued with nothing that lives.

I'm adored but replaced with nothing that gives.

So what gives?

It took three hits to pull you off.

It took even more to fall from the top.

I'm craving a hit, I'm itching for haze.

I've been fantisizing a joint in my hand for days.

I don't want to be hostile, I'm trying to be chill

But with the large amount of air I've finally had my fill.

I want to cough and hack and fill the burn

And maybe after I'm gone I won't feel the need to return.

I see your face and I've thought on our time

And right now I'd rather be harsh than to always be kind.

You'll throw it down but I'll pick it up

You'll throw the punch but I'll take the touch.

You're the kind of boy who needs to do what he's told

You're not a man when you're acting 5 years old.

She said you can't talk and she said you can't speak

I don't think you're respecting her but I think you're just weak.

And when you're done with her you'll just find another.

You don't want an equal partner you just want a mother.

And you're grabbing your sack as if you have something to show

Well, I've been there and done that and you still have to go.

Your name is a joke

You're made to choke.

The man card that you have in your pocket has been revoked.

And you're standing all tall like you have something to say

I dare you to tell me something I haven't heard anyways.

Trying to treat me like I'm the one who got away

Telling me that what's-her-name doesn't have what I take.

And boy I took it from you

You gave me the "what to do",

I've seen you cry and moan and bleed like they were mistreating you.

And I'll admit and take blame that I kept taking you back,

Cause back then it was me who didin't have the ***** that you lacked.

Finding excuses

And allowing misuses.

Trying to repair the leak from your loose lips.

Cause you have it bad like I had it good.

Living in style but acting like you're from the hood.

Trying so hard to just live it down.

Well you got what you wanted cause that girl rode you to the ground.

And now I'm up river and a couple of oceans from your mess

And I'm still watching you call out like a spoiled kid in distress.

Acting all tough like you've seen the other side of life

Throwing out curses like you're suffered so much strife.

Thinking that it's everyone else you have to fight,

But the joke's on you cause you're the only one who proved everyone right.

And I'm tired of this talk, as if you found the light,

Well that's my tail lights you see leaving you, out of sight.

And I'm probably sour cause I made a choice

But now it's left me nothing as much as a voice.

And I'll probably sit all resentful with greed,

But it always makes me laugh that you're doing just the same as me.

Just kidding.
SP Blackwell May 2013
You were all that I was not needing.
You stuck the knife in my side that will not stop bleeding.
I chased you like a high, fiending.
Lies that translated to me believing.
Looks are misleading, decieving.
Kindness that always leads to mistreating.
Words are said without any meaning.
I doubt myself. I doubt what I'm feeling.
I close my eyes pretend I'm not seeing.
When I walk through the door just know that I'm leaving.
Numb, no more feeling.
La Mer May 2016
Nestled between the covers
Are two stories unfolding,
Unraveling in the mystery of
How to detach from it.

The stories and memories,
Meshed together with an infinite tale.
A wordless story,
making its imprint on our flesh.
Bound, yet boundless
As birds that perch upon the edge of a wire.

Potential for motion,
A flight into a blanket of Love.
Shadows follow, for once cloaked
around our bare shoulders like a guide.

Mistaken as us, and comfortable
mistreating our views.
A grim reaper of our own Creation.
A once thoughtless prison, unshackled now
in warmth of our presence.

Recognizing a strand of
Familiarity, creating an endless
family from Kingdom to Kingdom.
We are not what we think,
And yet we think this into the now.

This creative moment of backwards
And forwards, as we sleep
A sweet lullaby
Of juxtaposition and paradox.
Mirrors are doorways
Into our Selves,
Onto a great pathway of
Questions that need no reply.

Voiceless songs and melodic silence,
Intertwining in the mix of
Magic and Absolute Truth.
He's rough around the edges
So I keep my heart protected
He says he loves me
But I have second guesses
He says "You're a Queen to me"
Then why is he mistreating me ?
In my eyes , hes a King to be
I treat him like peasantry
To see if he can handle me
I know im hard to please
Really I like the simple things
I wish I could maintain my mentality
Of being used to the casualties
Or the fact that he's blind to me
I would change drastically
But he's a man to me
So hopefully he can handle me
To conquer my insanity
Deep Mar 2019
I’m not quitting, I will not…
But I’m tired of visiting that market
Holding pages that show others my worth,
Constantly reminds me of my failures
In not inculcating traits of brighter mind;
Them alphabets and numbers mesmerized,
My all happiness, every dream revolved around a wooden bat
Father, always scolded me, saying;
“Time never returns, returns only regret”
My adolescent arrogance refuted it
But now, I know the price.

My life was straight
I meander it with my mistreating,
Of dreaming a dream that I couldn’t afford
Of not confining them in the periphery of the countryside,
Letting time to stroll away sitting on a pew
Not making enough efforts to catch in the middle,
Father, you were right
How I long to go back in time
And start again from the beginning,
With all the cautions and advice of your’s,
Accepting all that previously refuted;


Those afternoon walk in the heat of June
Shirt soaked in ‘rejections’
Clothing a dead Will that dies daily in Loo,
All absorbed in counting failures
I wait for a bus to come
With an unknown number
That could take me all the way to that ‘wish factory' place
I heard in childhood,
But the dust fly and settles in the eye
To awake me from delving into another dream;


“Those who take long ladders to reach 98,” the mother says
“seldom wins without bitten at 99.”
But my life turned out to be mazier
Than the game of snake & ladders,
How I abhor to go back home and confront her
Whose trust in Gods diminishing by my defeats,
Whose every prayer is going unheard
I am the victim, she a sufferer;


I remember the days of my college
With immense dreams and a never-dying spirit
And an age where everything seems possible
Where every person looks beautiful
An age with profligacy and extravagance
And complete ignorance of the world,
Later when I stepped my foot into reality;
The clock’s hands had taken so many rounds
That a fastest run could not chase them.


I’m tired of answering the same question again and again
I’m tired of waking in the morning anxious
With the fear of rejection,
That travel from bus to interview place seems infinite
With endless emotions heaving up and down
like a tree on a windy day,
I’m tired of living a life that I do not control
I know, after one hour from now
I’ll exist no more,
And this is not quitting
I just want to start it all over again…
The poem is dedicated to a guy who attempted suicide because of not getting job- and many more who are daily fighting the battle to earn living.
Ashley G L Dolmo May 2015
Are any of you aware of our estate,
Where we stand as a nation of unreliable faces,
The fabricated ambition ... Erases
We vote for the lies because nothing is promised,
Those dictators said they’ll try but how do we know they’re trying
You with the eyes, whether you have 2020 vision,
Or legally blind .
You shelter your sights
But where is your reality
What about the young bloods who set out to be like
Us.
You shelter your trust, you agree to settle for lies.
You’re always deceiving yourself and mistreating yourself.
Don’t blame him or her, blame yourself
If not blame me
Blame me for not smacking your ***
Blame me for not blasting your ***
Blame me for leaving you ignorant to the fact that you
Are sheltering the wrong things,
Do better for yourself, or else nothing will change.
I was angry in the library when I wrote this.
Sam Feb 2016
Treating my feet to the beat I leap from my seat
despite the sleet, take my heat to the streets
the concrete is freeing
from:
the deceit which we deal in
the obsolete (which I'm fleeing)
the people we're mistreating
which we repeat and repeat and
it's all self defeating
when the elite just replete
despite our attempts to delete
or just maybe deplete...

so I retreat to the sweet beat of the blues
as the pavement meets and greets my shoes
down the lanes and avenues
just hoping for something nice on the news
jimmy tee Apr 2014
bird on the wing
perched in the sun begins to sing
bunny on the hop
mistaken
substitute
hubris
while mistreating others we elevate ourselves
the science behind personality testing
the theory of motivation
the fact that a certain trend will occur to satisfy a need
behavior is driven by an internal state of disequilibrium
this lack of balance is the source of all conflict, large and small
achievement, power, affiliation and intimacy
are described as secondary needs
and our personal reaction to these states
determines our personalities
when you pass a person on the street
remember to pay attention to the fact
that they are filled with desires to fill their secondary needs
the gaps add up to the person
Mattrick Patrick Jan 2017
There was a buzzing, woke me from my bed,
(in the place between my ears)
calling me to a place where I'm not alone.
Dreams are fantastic in lovers arms instead,
especially when you've been lonely on your own.

Faint, just a whisper, forgotten;
clumsily on the edge of infinity,
ready to drop into a pool of what's rotten,
you're lost in sweet serenity.

Blissfully alive.
                  But where is your buzzing?
                                                   Where is your soul?

Surely you would have noticed
the subtle silence of a mausoleum,
the clattered bones of yesterday
only scatter when ya see em.

And I'm too 'fraid to 'pollogize for my mistakes,
misdeeds and mistreating you.
I've seen the floor that you whip me with,
and its not worth meeting too.

So I've decided to surrender
                         to that sweet sweet serenity.

I've decided to surrender to that sweet serenity,
running on dreams, standing alone
on a crowded sea of enmity. (I just don't care anymore!)
Its time to sleep. its time to open this door and find myself home.
There’s a flame

Lit with in

A flame that burns for one purpose

There’s a life

Two souls meant to be one,

But Split in two

There’s so much pain

Heart ache, for the souls that are lost

A pain meant to keep the souls apart

There is an emotion

Love

an emotion that is meant to be pure, but instead is manipulative and deceiving

Only because many souls have given up on meeting

So they began hurting and mistreating

Those who are naïve

Until it becomes a cycle of misleading

But there are those who keep on fighting

For that one who is meant to complete them

The one is meant to love them like they need them to

And at first it might seem strange

Because we don’t understand how someone

Could know what truly love is

That love is supposed to

Burn like the flame

Hurt like the pain

That you’re supposed to feel that way

Because that’s what love is meant to do

This emotion connect so many things

Not just lovers, but also friends

if you opened you heart and not your mind

You’ll find that love is very simple it’s not a technical complication or logically correct

It’s supposed to come with scars and bumps

But only because you’ll never know what’s good until you’ve dealt with bad

Love is not just a breeze

it’s a hurricane of emotions

But after its all say and done

You’ll find yourself in a place you’ve never been . . . next to the one
Sireie Apr 2015
For the first time I am comfortable. I do not worry. This will not leave.

When I talk about loving you it is not in the way that we taught to feel it conventionally. Or, I should say that others do? I don’t think that that way is real. I think that is how others comfort themselves, with trickery, because they have been told that that is what it is. So when I use that word, it is because I have no better one in which to say how I feel in a short sentiment.

Love is what all the literature, art, music and poetry speak of, but not in the way it seems. It is just an attempt to portray something that is unportrayable, after all why would so many write or create on it. It is just their expressions of something that they try to reconcile.

And people, they see this portrayal and they think that they understand it’s meaning, and they allude that they experience it. I don’t think they do, they don’t understand it, for them it is merely a finite thing with conventionally imposed limitations and it’s not free in any sense of the word. For them it costs. That is not love. But they believe it so, and that is not their faults. They settle in this. And the swells might come and go, but they never remain without a degree of effort. That is not what I mean when I use the word love. There should be no active effort involved.

I have loved before, in that sense and it never holds me past a while. The lack of realness behind it doesn't elude me for too long. But, I find myself happy to believe in the idea for a while at least. Like a vacation away from me. Yet, I always have to return home to myself and it has always been the most lonely journey back to the homestead where there is only me waiting for me. Although, it is always nice to vacation with someone for a small while, if only for the small moments where I am able to forget that I am alone. And, I have always resented that I can see it and others cannot even notice how alone they are here. Almost as though they are naturally obligated to feel that they are not. I find myself equally happy for them that they cannot see it. Happy so much that the realisation and guilt of pretending does never bare to touch them.

And this, it doesn't have suitable words and so I end up using the only one I can find that at the very least has a single gram of aptness for purpose. Yet, it remains to fall so very short and in so many ways only serves to misrepresent what I really feel about you, about us, about this. This is what I mean when I say that I have never loved this honestly, and that is because I never truly have. And that is the only thing I can define this as, because it fails to fit into anything and nothing comes close. So it must be? I have no other to compare it to and I am so blind. And I wish I was able to explain it to you so you would understand the truth in it with me.

I don’t want you to be fuzzy in it, or worry that you have guilt in mistreating me because you feel that you cannot mirror it.

Believe me when I tell you that my affections are not misplaced by any degree. I think that you do. In your way. Perfectly. And if we keep trying to understand this within our definitions from convention we never will be able too. I don’t think we are meant to even.

When you talk to me (I mean in any exchange) it is like I can touch you and in anyone I could talk to them and never be able to, not really. I look at them and it is like everything is at the front and if I look passed that there is nothing behind it. I’m not saying that they are less. Just that I cannot see, because for me there is nothing else to see. It’s a blankness that I find uncomfortable. Since there is nothing behind it, there is nothing for me to get close to, and with you, I am so close I feel like I can just reach a fraction to touch you.

I am not on vacation with you, I am still at home.

You said I was a stray, you might have been right. But now, I am not a stray. I have a pack, I am not alone, and I am free to come and go as I choose.

I couldn't have asked for this.

It is effortless.

It doesn't have gravity, well.

I don’t think I would have conceived that it existed.

I would have laughed at the idea, and called it foolish.

I don’t have any fear in it, because I know in the depths of me that it will remain, and that like you said, if there is others, it will lull but it will not change, it will always be there after. My love is the idea of that closeness, and being completely at peace with that, and these words still fail me.

But I just know that my soul sings for it.

And I am so glad for you existing.
To my soul mate, my doppelganger, the one that I have found myself trusting, a first in everything. I found you. You found me. The world is with us but never between us.
Seth Milliman Dec 2015
Soldier on,
In war they cried.
Blood battled till beaten,
They fear the terror.
Created in stride,
Of their own horror mistreating.
I fear the race is already lost,
No sound mind is speaking.
When fear is created by oneself,
Lost is the logic of reason.
Myriah Jun 2015
Thoughts racing through my head
How did we start up
in love and end up here
You said you loved me
and I believed you
Seems like you don't
even mean what you say.

You were all that I wanted
I fell in love with all
of your heart and your soul
From that moment couldn't imagine
You ever hurting me or mistreating my love
I should have known
Life's too short to not be about            serious business.  In this day and time for people are killing people on a daily basic for no reason at all people are causing all type of issue problems in this world men hating their wives, children  are mistreating their parents.  It need to be Serious business no more playing games.
jeffrey conyers Jul 2014
To the insecure.
There's nothing impossible to over come.
News has  painted our society as bums, ****** and thugs.

To those recently fired.
Jobs exist-nothing is as bad as it seem.
No need to return to your former job for a killing spree.

To parents of the mental ill.
We're finding out too late that your child illness directed them to ****.
Most cases-it's the innocent within their mirror.

To the law enforcers within our community.
You're making enemies that you don't need.
Random investigation by Internal Affairs could **** out the problem officers.
The hothead ones carrying legal permission to wear a gun.

To the parents mistreating your child.
Well, you probably would mistreat Jesus.
Especially, if you don't know, who he was?

To the judges sentencing the innocent ones.
Accept mistakes happen when truth emerges.
It's the district attorneys tossing guilt at others but themselves.

Now to the thugs within our society.
Hurting the elderly, the women and the weak.
Only prove you never had a true dream to be.
That goes for the gangs too.

Representing nothing of importance.
Revenge is a deadly game when it returned upon you.
Then you're seeking logic and reasons to why it came back to you?

To the ladies that's struggling to survive.
Believe, where there's an opportunity?
Use whatever it takes to get ahead?
It might go against people's vision of opinions of things to do.
But , as always, we are not in your shoes.

To the bums that think they are better.
Funny, when trouble comes to them they twist stories to fit them.
Reflecting attention off of them.

I won't mention the politicians.
They barely deserve to be in office.
When mostly anything they have done is give you a light and sidewalks.
Then cut down the better fellow.

Message to the people.
America was built on integrity.
And the ability to survive during the toughest of times.
Great example would be the Great Depression.
People with less stood strong.

And here , we are doing wrong.

— The End —