"rapist" poems
when a bunch of old Senate men
and some intimidated women
voted to heave
an accused ******
and proven liar with an alcohol problem
given to irascible outbursts, fits of self-pity
and insulting comments on women
into a lifelong seat on the highest court in the nation
against voluminous evidence of his lacking qualifications
the statue of the Goddess of Justice
whom a former attorney general
had all covered up in blue cloth
dropped her sword and scales
tore off her blindfold
and covered her naked ******* in shame
Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 2:07 PM UTC
Shrek was sad
Very depressed
But on day
He was gay
and found a boy to play
with
****** shrek
very yeck
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 7:36 PM UTC
ew you’re on your period
that’s disgusting
and whenever i get a "feminine product"
i have to hide it deep down where nobody sees it
but you see
we live in a world where our own girls are getting *****
i’m a girl, not a *** object
but in the eyes of a ****** that is
exactly
what
i am
but i’m not an object
i am a person
i am a life giver
just imagine if men were as disgusted in **** as they are with periods
in the sixth grade
when the word period was mentioned
the whole room would burst out in laughter
i am a girl
my lady bits bleed
and that’s what makes me strong
and that’s what makes me a young woman
and that’s what will make me a mother one day
so ew you’re on your period
that’s disgusting
is not an insult to me
Feb 5, 2018
Feb 5, 2018 at 8:35 AM UTC
Did you hear the that goes
“Everytime I try to make a **** joke,
It just comes out a little too…
Forced.”
Did you hear the one about
The girl who had to pull her
Best friend
Drunk, crying, and vomiting,
From her best friend’s car?
They’re both pretty funny,
Aren’t they?
It’s hilarious that
A 15 year old girl
Sits in a clinic,
Waiting to see
If she is pregnant
Or if maybe she has
An STD.
She feels ***** and
Ashamed,
Feeling like it’s her fault
Because that’s what
Society tells her-
It’s her fault because
Of what she was wearing.
It’s even more funny that
She sits there alone,
Because she’s too
Ashamed to ask for help.
It’s hilarious that a
Little boy,
With tears streaming down his face,
Thinks that what she did to him
Wasn’t ****
Because society tells him
That real men can’t be *****
He should’ve liked it,
That he’s lucky because
She was good looking.
It’s hilarious that when you make **** jokes,
You’re almost as bad as the ******
You’re normalizing his actions,
Making him feel proud,
And that what he did
Is just a process of life,
That what he did is normal.
So instead of asking me why I don’t find **** jokes funny,
Let me ask you
Why you do.
May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 8:59 PM UTC
this is just another ******* **** poem
why just another **** poem?
you sit there and think
why talk about this so often
when the economy is collapsing
and children are starving
and there's a possibility of a
world war 3?
but guess what ******
this poem isn't for you
its for those who's souls have been
tied down and beaten
for those who have lost all hope
for those who have been told that its
"all their fault"
to them, this poem isn't
just another ******* **** poem
it is their savior poem
the one thing that points
out the ****** up things
like double standards
and victim blaming
it may give them the
push that will break the ropes
that hold their souls down
this is the poem that will
restore hope for those who have
given up because society has
given up them and tossed them away
like a used ******
and I will continue writing other
******* **** poems
until my mother stops telling me
to not forget my mace
until I dont have to pay for 500$
self defense classes, on the off chance that hey,
maybe I wont be ***** tonight.
until im not blamed for being attacked
until my ****** is not pitted for his
football carer being ended prematurely
until I can dress like a **** and get home safely
I will continue writing **** poems
until I have nothing ******* left
to write about
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 12:36 PM UTC
Señor Garcia Marquez
Whatever did you mean
When you wrote of life
And of death by family
I'm in love with
Prudencio Aguilar's ghost
Roaming about the Buendía household
Hole in his throat
Washing out the wound
But what did you mean?!
I'm in love with
Do it yourself chastity belts
And Ursula's fear of ***
But why is this even a theory
Your concept behind biracial inbreeding
And Señor do not get me started
On Melquíades and José Arcadio Buendía
Because that friendship was
Fated to be doomed
I mean no disrespect in all this
I just want to know
Why use Macondo as an allegory
For the Angel Gabriel
You're genius, really
But your run on paragraphs
Infuriate every ounce of my writing soul
You're a Columbian Tolstoy
I mean that as no insult
Your works are tremendous and outstanding
But what am I doing
You're now just an old dead man
"Under the ground"
So now I belong to figure out
Why Pilar needs to fill a void
Opened by a ******
And why Colonel Aureliano Buendía
Thinks of his fond memory of ice
Just before being killed
I've paid my respects to your work
Please pay respects to my search
Jul 25, 2016
Jul 25, 2016 at 3:57 PM UTC
Look into the mirror and Smile
Greet every customer with a warm Smile
Close your eyes alone and Smile
Think about the war and Smile
Imagine your daughter and smile
Leave your troubles at the door and Smile
Black out, wake up without a mother and Smile
Smile for the camera
Smile
Smile
Smile
Look I know you're depressed but Smile
Maybe you'll be happier if you Smile
I heard you can trick your body's chemicals into thinking you're happy if you just Smile
I didn't say be happy, I said Smile
Smoke a cigarette and Smile
Look your ****** in the toes and Smile
Put your makeup on and Smile
Pour a fresh cup of coffee and Smile
Hold their hand, look at the stars and Smile
Shut the **** up and Smile
Sit at the bottom of your shower and Smile
Empty this bottle and Smile
Lose your lifes fourtune at blackjack and Smile
Take this pill and Smile
Stop Smiling
Why are you still Smiling?
Is that all you can ******* do?
SMILE?
Smile
Like this contortion of flesh is taking a punch
Smile
Because this curvature is a war on hatred
Smile
Like a curse word
Like body armor
Like a paycheck
Smile.
Apr 22, 2016
Apr 22, 2016 at 2:02 PM UTC
Puppet Master
You crept in like a mischievious thief.
Intrigued, decieved and retrieved my son.
Influencing and destroying his beautiful life.
Diminished his hopes, his dreams and his self-esteem.
Convincing him he had no future,
No love, no value was to his life.
Your wicked silk spun web of deadly lies,
Mislead him to believe,
That happiness and love cease to exist.
This is your fuel,
This your fire.
Your one and only desire.
You will not quit until they all expire.
****** black, H or tar,
You are a seductive liar.
Your needle point claws buried deep his arm,
Dripping with your poisonous conceit.
Now you are his puppet master.
Dominating his mind, his thoughts and his words.
Your malicious acts preformed through him,
Make him look wild, insane and disturbed.
Each day in your tight intense grip,
My son dwindled and shriveled away.
Becoming your molded and trained apprentice.
Coached to perfection in your twisted ways.
You are as bad as a ******
A murderer and even more.
I hate you ******
You started a war.
I will not let you win!
Let go of my loved and cherished son.
Let him live a full and beautiful life.
I surrender to you myself.
Volunteer my own life.
Take me instead,
Be my puppet master,
Enslave me,
And let my baby live.
L. Mack
9/20/18
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 12:41 AM UTC
When my ****** showed up on under the "people you may know" tab on fb. It felt like the closest to investigating a crime scene that I've ever been.
That is if you don't count the clock work ****** that I make of my own memory every time I go down Colfax avenue.
Still
I sit in my living room and I search for clues.
Click
He is Smiling...
And I see myself caught in his teeth,
He's Dancing in some club In a city I have never been to.
Click.
He is eating sushi over a few beers with friends
And I am under his finger nails.
Click,
I know that alley.
Click.
I killed the memory of that t shirt.
Click.
This...
Is a baby picture,
There is also an older man,
Presumably his father.
They're are both round, And bright and still
Smiling....
Click.
He is shirtless,
And I see myself in the weight room mirror,
"#beastmodeselfie"
I call him the WOLF, when I write about him.
The WOLF!
So as to make him as story book as possible.
The WOLF!
When I write about him.
Which is to say my
Memory..
Escapes the ****** When the internet suggests it.
Facebook, Informs me we have
3
Mutual
Friends..
Which is to say, That he is people you may know.
And that, I AM People you may know.
And there are people who know,
And people that don't know,
And people that DONT KNOW THAT I WANT TO KNOW,
people that I am afraid to LET KNOW,
and probably people that know him,
That know of me, that know OF the word
NO!
NO!
NO!
NO is a flock of sleeping sheep sitting in my mouth.
And now.....
Now I know the wolf's middle name...
And what he listens to on spofiy.
And the all to familiar company he keeps,
And he can no longer be
"The wolf."
Or the nameless grave I dig for
Myself.
We have...
3
Mutual
friends
on Facebook.
And now it feels as if they
Are holding the shovel.
64 people..
liked the shirtless gym pic.
4 people
Have told me that they'd rather I said
Nothing.
2 police officers,
Told me I must give his act a
name
or it didn't happen!
That obviously I could have
Fought back.
Which is to say
No one comes running for young boys who cry
****
When I told my brother,
He also asked why I didn't fight back.
Adam....
I am...
Right now.
I promise.
Everyday, I write a poem titled
"Tomorrow"
It is a hand written list
Of the people I know that
Love me.
And I make sure to put my own name at the top
By Kevin kantor
Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 11:25 PM UTC
Does evil exist?
Well, does it, or not?
I demand an answer
And if it does, hold that thought
Because if wrong does exist
We must face the reality
That calling something wrong means
There's a right way things ought to be
But if wrong does not truly
Exist in bright colors
Well, what, then is justice
But a meaningless construct?
If the **** of a child
In all histories and cultures
Can be called pure evil
Even by society's worst prisoners
If the ****** of innocents
Is forever and always
An evil in society
That can't be tolerated
If imprisonment of a woman
Like chattel for sale
Being held as a *** slave
In her own private hell
Or murdering Jews
Like Hitler's evil plan
Or starving millions unjustly
In Stalin's Ukraine
Or killing the masses
For political expedience
Culling babies in China
Or locking up dissidents
If beheading of heretics
Is inherently wrong
Or even violating your privacy
Or invading your home
If these are universally bad
And there's meaning in words
Then there's universal good
That our souls are drawn toward
Something more than just philosophy
Because that lacks authority
And if good is defined by the majority
Then what about the minority?
Tyrants run roughshod
When rights come and go
At the whims of the powerful
Because what they say goes
No, evil is something
More than laws, or from cultures
Or philosophical sophistry
From ivory towers
To try to stop badness
Is really to defend
That there's a god of pure goodness
Who wants us like him
We can discuss who that god is
And what is his substance
But the least we can do
Is acknowledge his existence
You can say that religion
Starts evil wars and such
And you might just be right
But you've just proved too much
Because if there is no god
Whose nature defines goodness
Who are you to call war bad
Or **** evil, or hate, darkness?
Who are you to sit in judgment
Of the religious who you think hate you?
If there is no moral standard
That makes hate wrong, and judging too?
If morality is nothing more
Than just a social contract
Then it's just he said/she said
And there's no moral compass
You see, your compass is as good as mine
And that may be fine, generally
Until the ****** asserts his own
Warped idea of morality
What makes his wrong
And yours universally right?
That's a tough question
That keeps philosophers up at night
Because indeed, if there is no god
There's no guilt to assuage
For the wrongs that man does
Because there is no such gauge
It's like measuring empty
Without knowing what full is
Or like trying to describe love
Without knowing who God is
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 6:59 PM UTC
you say,
you are not a ******
you say,
you come in peace
but this does not put me at ease.
because you are a man
tall,
dominant,
strong.
i am aware of your testosterone
lingering in your blood stream
like alcohol,
in a drunken girl.
unconscious,
while he feeds on her drunken body
like prey.
you say,
you are not a ******
you say,
you mean no harm
but i am a woman,
in a man's world
and you are a man,
in a rapist's world
so i hear yours words
and approach with caution.
Apr 22, 2022
Apr 22, 2022 at 4:50 AM UTC
***What if I say, I am not like the others?
Are you afraid of seeing my bloodshot eyes?
It ain’t a delusion of your vision
It ain’t a theory of your hostile mind
Its just an authority to reveal high
As you ****** up in the midnight.
What if I declare, I like to be a pothead?
It ain’t a crime of your filthy society
It ain’t a ****** of your hypersexual beauty
Its just a power to absorb black hole
As you get dissolved in the infinity.
What if we believe, we are united peace?
Our intoxication could never be slayer as your humanity diminishes
Our immune could never be a flame as your democracy fire burns
Our dealing could never be an acrid as your judgments villainous
Our indignation could never be a pretender as your sensibility veiled
Our lonesome shadow could never be a congress of love as your realization mortifies
And our congregation of morality must have been psychedelic painkiller.
What if we deny, we are insignificant existence?
So, who are you crippling our bloodshot eyes, A Social featherbrain?
Who are you to stop having "dopetherone" in the town, A godly crusader?
Who are you to proclaim the rule against your mind, A phrenetic lawyer?
What if we deny, we are insignificant existence?
What if we believe, we are united peace?
We will keep walking with our head held high.***
April' 2015
Mar 25, 2017
Mar 25, 2017 at 2:07 PM UTC
I've never felt so much anger before towards anyone.
Have you ever looked someone in the eye and have them tell you that you should've kept the child that was planted in you by a stranger who drugged and ****** you?
Have you wiped the tears of a woman in despair because she was ***** and told she wasn't allowed to get an abortion?
Have you curled up in a ball, trying to figure out who to tell about your personal experience of ****** assault and ****
Tell me, person who says abortion is a sin and that it is relative to the holocaust, will my ****** support me?
Will my ****** pay for doctors visits?
Will my ****** pay the medicals bills for giving birth?
Will my ****** pay child support?
**** no and don't tell me that I should always save the child.
Excuse me if I don't want to carry my rapist's child inside of me.
My body. My choice.
MY BODY. MY CHOICE.
Oct 9, 2017
Oct 9, 2017 at 8:17 PM UTC
One morning, I decided to ask people what their favorite myth is. I asked them what myth did they think was the greatest, and the one that made a huge impact on them. The most interesting one, the myth that would keep you wanting for more. Some people said vampires, some people said dragons, some said the origin of the world, and of course, most of them said the famous Greek mythology. And I asked some, what myth do they think is the most unlikely thing to happen, what is the myth that will never be real? And I was taken aback when some said their favorite myth was **** culture, followed with laughter. As if it’s a myth, as if it’s fiction, as if it’s something that isn’t real.
**** culture is a myth. It’s not real. It’s not happening. Apparently, it’s just a work of fiction for some people. Apparently it is a myth when it’s happening everyday. It is a myth when you report it to them, and instead of asking “Are you okay?”, the first question they will ask is “What were you wearing?”. Because your skirt was the reason, your sleeveless top was the one that gave them permission. And when you told them you were wearing sweatshirt and pants, they will ask you “Were you drinking?”. When someone took away something that is yours without consent and you’ll be the one blamed. Because you were wearing shorts, because you were drinking, because you were just outside. *When we teach women everything about not getting ***** but we don’t teach men to simply not **** When our bodies are nothing to you but to objectify. When you see us and think the word sexualize.* When they asked you whether you said no or stop, and if you didn’t, you liked it. It was consensual. But you never said yes, and it’s not **** right? It is not real when people shame the victim, when the help people are giving you are words such as **** ***** and instead of calling you a survivor you will be known as “the girl who was asking for it”. *It is a work of fiction when nothing happens to the ****** or when some even refuse to call that person a ****** You will see headlines describing him as an athlete, as someone who has scholarship, any good thing but ****** *It is a myth when the ****** runs free, but the victim is still suffering and constantly being shamed. It is a myth when the world thinks men who are getting ***** are weak men, when they don’t think the consent of men are also important.* When people continue to joke about something that can ruin someone else’s life. Apparently all of these things aren’t real, these things aren’t happening.
But how could one person even think that **** culture is a myth? That **** culture doesn’t exist? *It’s not like the trojan war, because it’s far more chaotic. It destroys and kills people. It lets bad people win and victims suffer. It’s not like vampires who don’t sleep and **** people’s blood, instead this is even more dangerous than vampires. This normalizes something dangerous, something horrible.* And the people who do it, who contribute to it, and who do nothing to stop it? Are worse than monsters in mythology. And why would we even call it a myth when we learn something good in myth? When myth teaches us something good in life? **** culture is not a myth, **** culture is happening everywhere. *When you turn on the television and see comedians joking about **** when people call the **** victim they know a **** when people don’t believe someone when ***** reports it to them, when until now, **** is still considered inevitable.* **** culture is not a myth, **** culture is real, **** culture is happening. And they say **** culture is part of the reality that we have to face, but what do we do to things that bring us no good? To things that damage our reality? *We do everything we can to stop them, to destroy them, to crush them. And that needs to happen to **** culture,* now.
Apr 8, 2017
Apr 8, 2017 at 5:26 AM UTC
i can't ******* breathe.
i can't ******* do this anymore.
it isn't ******* fair.
why does he get to be happy?
when he took everything from me.
i'm ******* pathetic.
i can't even look a man in the eyes
and tell him how i feel.
and he gets everything he ever wanted.
**he ******* ***** me**
but somehow he still gets a fiance.
and now that ******* fiance is pregnant.
what kind of ******** is that?
*he gets everything he ever wanted,
and i'm still barely holding on.*
i can't fix myself, can't love myself.
he moved on with his life a long time ago.
and i am still stuck in neutral.
he gets to be happy,
when i fight the urge to stand in front of moving vehicles.
he gets a family,
when i am fighting for every breath.
he gets to have a life,
*when i can't ever seem to get my **** together.*
he gets to forget about me,
when he haunts me every day.
it isn't ******* fair.
because right now,
they are cuddled up and sound asleep.
happy together in their bed,
knowing that together, they are starting a family.
while i am lying in my bed, crying my eyes out,
because my rapist's fiance is pregnant.
all i can do is hope that one day,
this will no longer haunt me.
that one day i will kiss my child's forehead good night,
and crawl into bed with a loving husband.
all i can do is hope that one day,
i will get better.
because if i lost hope now,
there would be no hope for me to make it to tomorrow.
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 1:12 AM UTC
I almost don’t want to voice my opinion
because I like staying in the back of the mix
but it’s hard to do.
Straight from the mind, the mouth,
of a transgendered person,
this is honesty.
I know that there are a lot of people going on about the bathroom laws right now.
It’s ridiculous we even have to get to laws for bathrooms.
They’re for
elimination,
but it generally doesn’t stay at that.
Gossip, vomiting, crying, **** ****** etc. Things you’ll most likely, in this century, find in the walls of bathrooms.
People are posting the meme, about the ****** Trying to mix it in with these laws.
A ******
who is a man,
and someone who is transgender, don’t fall into the same category, and even if it’s made to better the judgement of hate and redirect the criticism of keeping transgender people in a specific bathroom,
don’t compare.
Because he is a male, he is a ******
We are not the same.
Now, recently, people are posting about the mass shooting and connecting the two.
Saying how the last thing they want to hear about is how dangerous a transgender person is in bathroom now.
And they’re correct, because it’s always the last thing on my mind. I hate myself, so you don’t have to.
I have enough hate in me for myself so everyone can leave me be, knowing its strong enough.
I don’t want to be me, I don’t want to be like I am and I live with that everyday. I haven’t been able to make peace with myself and love myself, yet.
But I hope I can eventually.
I just wanted to put this out there, so people can see this side of things. From someone who is transgender.
The last thing on my mind in the bathroom is: you.
I do not want contact with anyone in there.
I fear you. I am scared to be there.
I feel threatened. I feel in danger, not you.
You should be ashamed to feel such resentment towards someone you don’t even know, because I am in the one in danger, not you.
I feel ashamed I am afraid of you and that is embarrassing to say,
but I am.
So don’t dare make it about your safety, because you are the last thing on my mind,
I promise you that.
Being misgendered, being ***** being beaten, being murdered, slandered, assaulted, accused, uncertain, hated, dehumanised, alone.
Fear.
These are what I am thinking about when all I have to do is *** but all I wanted to have to do was get groceries.
Or get McDonald’s, get cat food, my car fixed, an outfit, take my husband lunch, take my daughter to the park, etc.
I have a family I love, very much.
So yeah, you are the last thing on my mind when I just have to use the bathroom, and don’t even want to need to use one in public because I am so afraid for my safety and wondering if this time, is going to be the last time I walk in one and don’t get to go home to my family because of who I am.
I am sure people have reasons to fear what they won’t know or understand,
but understand this.
I know you have your own fears and your own needs and expectations, but so do I.
Don’t fear me, in the bathroom, because my fear is actually greater than yours,
I promise you that.
And honestly, that is the last on my mind, anyway.
**I just have to ***
Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 2:32 PM UTC
Dear Minimalist,
Dear Belittler,
Dear Soulless Ginger,
Dear Stupid,
because I know you hate being called that.
Dear ****
Dear Liar,
Dear Sexist,
Dear Racist,
you typical stereotyper.
Dear *******
Dear ********
Dear ********
Dear Douche-Dick,
Dear ********
Dear ********
Dear ******
**** you.
Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 1:25 AM UTC
You said you're not a super hero.
I said you're full of ****
It's ****** people like him that deserve to be hit.
One punch and he's out.
One punch in the mouth.
He dropped like my ******* did when you told me about it.
You punched a potential ******
You saved a drunk girl.
You're a super hero in a less than super world.
The Sun's out with his guns out.
Have your contraceptives at the ready,
Because punching potential rapists is undeniably ****
Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 2:30 AM UTC
I hate ******
I hate racist,
I hate narcissistic people,
I hate criminals,
I hate subliminal messages,
I hate werid fetishes,
I hate killers,
I hate murderers,
I hate child molesters,
I hate sodomizer,
I hate spiders,
I hate fear,
I hate my mirror,
I hate low battery,
I hate battery (crime)
I hate pedophiles
I hate crocodiles
I hate the sun,
I hate to run,
I hate sin,
I hate my sinister grin,
I hate villains,
I hate millions,
I hate billions,
I hate trillions,
I hate people who dont hate what I hate,
I hate everything,
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 11:24 PM UTC
I wasn't kidding when I said you were cute.
I wasn't joking when I said I love you.
I was serious when I gave you the note.
I was eager to post on your Facebook wall.
I even know your birthday.
I know your number.
I know where you live.
I'm your sister's best friend.
I'm not a creep.
I'm not a stalker.
I'm not a ******
I'm not going to hurt you.
I love you.
I want you.
I need you.
I see you everyday, but you never see me...
I love you.
Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 10:15 AM UTC
Dear David,
First of all, I would like to start this letter with a big **** YOU!
How dare you come into my home and take advantage of me.
How dare you get into my bed and touch me.
How dare you!?!
Oh, you were drunk?
No worries, that totally makes it okay.
I was probably dreaming like the time my best friends brother decided to hop into my bed when I was 11.
I hate you!
I hate how I can’t be mad at Terry for wanting to have a relationship with you because you’re his brother.
I hate how I can’t speak up about what you did because it most certainly will ruin your life.
But I want you to know, you will never be apart of my life again.
You will not be apart of mine and Terry’s life,
And best believe you will not be an uncle to our little girl.
I know all you did was touch my skin and kiss my lips,
But what if I wasn’t strong enough to push you off me, to tell you no?
I hate what you did.
I hate that I can never be beautiful again,
You took that piece with you.
You greedy, ****** *****
How many other girls have you done this to?
Are still doing this to?
And aren’t able to tell you no…
I just hate how I can’t move on…
How can you?
Oct 9, 2021
Oct 9, 2021 at 2:07 PM UTC
Not sure if you changed your number
Or ignored my texts
But you need to hear this
Remember that **** that happened my senior year?
When you decided that you'd stay alive if I stayed physically involved with you?
And continued to touch me even though I said no?
You better not have forgotten
Because I sure haven't
That is called coercion
Not only is it ****** assault
It is ****
Which makes you a ******
You made me feel so bad for stopping
For no longer letting you use me
That was victim blaming
You placed your supposed 'love' for me
Over my literal existence as a human being
You justified ****** me
By saying you loved me
And that doing it would keep you
From killing yourself
But you didn't realize how much
You were killing me
Just because you love someone
Does not mean they owe you anything
Whether they like you back
Or not
Whether they've hurt you
Or not
You do NOT get to assault people
Just because you think you deserve it
I'm not as mad as I used to be
And I'm only writing this
Because you need to hear it
You need to know you're a ******
So you don't do it ever again
I can't change what you did to me
But you can make sure it NEVER happens again
Feb 28, 2018
Feb 28, 2018 at 6:07 PM UTC
I'm born
Airborne
Forlorn
In war torn
Discord
My ripcord
I pull for liberation
Alienation aviation
Away from a station
Of no relation
Where their elation
Lies in degeneration
The fright fair
Nightmare
In sight there
Is a right scare
But light flares
From an illuminated theater
I dive into art
To fill my meter
I consume
Darkened tomb
Screen in room
Is where I loom
Inspiration blooms
From a sense of doom
My separation reparation
That will lead to veneration
My artistic fervor
Drifted further
Drifter's murmurs
Lifted learners
But gifted murderers
Shifted girders
Of shame and honesty
To my grave of modesty
Where they prey upon me
This plagiarism
Layered schism
Cratered rhythm
Of great decisions
Now I make incisions
With repetition
And the definition
Of words stolen from me
They're all I can see
And I can't get free
Or just let it be
Consumption disruption
At this junction
I can't function
A plagiarist
****** mist
Grips my fist
Makes me wish
I don't exist
I must resist
Before I miss
My chance at bliss
They're ****** me
By aping me
Making me
Shaking trees
Of bumblebees
With rumble pleas
On humble knees
Drinking antifreeze
Nobody cares
What's fair
They bear
And share
Blank stares
Up stairs
Of artistic compromise
Integrity lost in lies
They're not that wise
I hypothesize
My baby
Caught rabies
From Hades
Now ladies
Flock to a thief
Giving me grief
Beyond belief
In my coral reef
Sword in sheath
I drown discreet
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 2:29 PM UTC
Can I just write a poem that says **** the police"
for every single line
for every single stanza
and leave it at that?
Because I'm imagining his next victim, because there will be a next one,
and how she will feel when she finds out that he had my former report
on his private police record, accessible only by certain police.
I want to scream, but the metal chain he put around my throat to choke me because
"ha ha you like that, right?" after I had already said no
is still there, so nothing can come out of my mouth,
except I've been screaming as loud as I can for so long;
One year and I'm still not free.
His body weight is still crushing me, still heavy; the bruises on my body still felt every day, my body a museum of decaying loss and my mind a perfect video recording that plays on repeat whenever I just
want
some
sleep;
Nightmares I wake from and can't wake from.
I think one of the hardest days of my life was when I got my **** kit.
I mean- you know- other than the actual ****
I developed a stutter that day.
I blame myself.
I blame. I -I- I blame myself.
But I can't!
All of the "no's" that I said to him didn't matter, the police said;
everything non consensual didn't count;
it was only the one coerced "yes" that counted;
Scared for my life but, **** the police, right?
And all the times that I said to the police "yes" that I was *****
collapse and boom like a bomb on deaf ears of police that tell me that,
"maybe you just regretted having *** with him."
Or how about when they rolled their eyes when they learned that I met him on tinder?
I gave them a smile and answered that yes, that's true, because what else was I supposed to do but tell the truth?
Or the first thing they said to me was "so then you had a few drinks..."
Well no, sir, that's not what happned, at all.
See, there have been multiple levels of injustice here and I thought I was doing the right thing to heal.
In my partial hospitalization program that I went to for PTSD,
that I got from my ******
I learned that the "right" thing to do was to seek help right away after a traumatic incident so that it doesn't lead to lifelong suffering;
Quick help leads to a faster recovery,
and I've always wanted to do the right thing:
Like getting him arrested for ****** me.
But the police don't listen even when your body has been confiscated, graffiti marked by your ******
and the police tell you coldly to just seek counseling because, after all,
you "consented,"
and that your ****** isn't a ****** in the eyes of the law.
A ****** isn't a ****** but is a ****** and he's going free.
I did the right thing but I'm still stuck night after night, waking up crying;
I wonder who will be next, and that person's weight is added on top of me;
The gallery of bruises he inflicts will just continue, and I wonder where on snapchat will they be next?
Jun 27, 2017
Jun 27, 2017 at 8:10 AM UTC