"surviver" poems
pieces of pain
fly into the crescent moon
we walk through the falling snow
storm and broken road
are we alive or just pretending?
wisdom of the nirvana
tell the mysterious diety
yellow grass and smoked old man
strong promises people made
promise it won't be breaking
seeking the shadow of your savior
survive the long cold night
with an eclipse
torn fall between us
pale lips with a cigarette
living our future in a ***** promise
lead me, surviver
to the end of this tunnel
standing in the rain to see the lights of the buildings
galaxy and hidden planet
walk to the flower shop
rose or jasmine
red with madness
or white with sadness
painting your soul with blood
(a.l)
Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 1:33 PM UTC
Shame on me,
For not trying harder to be a miscarriaged baby,
Shame on me through being a surviver of a deadly tumor,
I am a tumor of the world,
Shame on me for taking up space,
Shame on me from not being able to prevent her sucicide,
Shame is all I feel,
I am shame itself;
And that voice inside my head I can’t figure out if it’s actually mine,
Or if I died off long ago,
And now I’m just something’s vessel.
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 8:00 PM UTC
She brushed a kiss she felt on her cheek
Felt a gentle hand given to squeeze
She found herself surprised by the
Sudden unexpectedness of the gesture
"Your a surviver" a soft voice called
Then she knew how afraid she was
Tears that had waited a long time to
Escape were finally released under
The dark veil of torrential rain
Big fat teardrops downpoured hurt
The sky above grumbled ominously
Then turned to light spectacular
Windchimes clattered with madness
Noises amplified by howling winds
She knew the storm was on its way
She would not surrender but maintain
Her inner strength and dignity
Her vitality was the food for her soul
Her love was boundless and eternal
Natures diversity and hers together
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 3:12 PM UTC
There is a new leaf
in my garden,
And summer lingers.
It will grow along with me,
Facing the sweltering days,
And the lashing wind.
It will grow along with me,
Waiting for spring,
Our surviver forever.
But it must a lesson
That growing is natural
And going through hard days
Lies in our palms
That always pick up
The choice of our deeds.
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 5:40 AM UTC
I feel unlike everyone else
But I know I'm not the only one walking trough hell.
I guess I; need an angel, or maybe a demon.
It really just depends which one I'm feed'en.
And I have them both standing on my shoulders. One giving me orders. The other is my soilder. And they both talking about my disorders. But I ignore them and blow them off like mortars. So I guess I need to find that shoulder to cry on, the one to rely on. I wouldn't care if she drove an ion or a scion. But she knows that I'm keeping my eye on her. But its really just a fight of surviver. But really its the insider myself the fight through hell. Is there anyone else?
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 1:45 PM UTC
A hunter,
a surviver,
immortal,
the goddess of the moon and hunting
Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 5:38 PM UTC
The girl lived in the wild,
For she was the wolf child.
She ran with her pack every night,
Howling in the moon light.
One day an old woman came,
Soon the girl became tame.
Years went by,
Every night the wolves would cry.
Still, years carried on,
But the girl was long gone.
Finally, she returned,
Only to find her old home burned.
She ran into the cave,
The scene was a charcoaled grave.
There was one wolf surviver,
And he spoke to her,
“You’ve been gone for many years,
Thats when we met one of our greatest fears.
I hope you found what you were looking for,
Because the pack is no more.
My life is near its end,
Goodbye my old freind.”
The girl stared at the wolf in shock,
Her stomach sinking like a rock,
“But I found my real family!
Can’t you be happy for me?”
The wolf looked at her with a grim face,
“Wasn’t This your rightful place?
I thought we were your real family,
Guess you don’t agree.”
The girl opened her mouth to speak,
But the wolf collapsed because he has grown too weak.
The wolf shed a tear,
“Guess this is goodbye, my dear.”
Oct 18, 2018
Oct 18, 2018 at 8:10 AM UTC
I am down
I am worn
I am tired
I am hurt
I am bruised
I am torn
But i am a surviver
I prevail
I am an overcomer
And i will
keep fighting
Jul 24, 2016
Jul 24, 2016 at 11:53 AM UTC
When she was born
Her mother wished the world,
had collapsed that day.
AS she grew up
Her mother would hit her
Swearing she would **** her, one of these days
She fought the anger
lived the pain
listened to all the sadness
She was neglected
like an abused dog
She was hurt
with a black hole in her heart
She felt unimportant
so she couldn’t live
She tried so hard
as hard as she could go
But she couldn’t do it,
couldn’t take it
and still can’t
live the pain anymore
So she tried
with a knife
with a rope
She tried so hard to die
Get it over with
She would say
Your not needed anyway
Until
Her mother was pregnat
A baby in her womb, a girl
Maybe people did need her
But she was still strong
A surviver
fighting anything that came her way
A warrior
going through all that pain
Her sister was born
Grandpaents in America
Friends by her side
LIfe was good
Until
One chilly autumn night
Her mother struck her with a knife
Blood gushing with all its streinghth
Tears pouring down her face
The world truly ended that day
To her
All the love
Gone
All the hope
****
Replaced with
crying over sleep
Depression over sleep
Permanet scars for life
Her childhood takin away that day
Her happiness erased
LOve was expired
And as she sits here writing this today, (3/6/14)
a mix of emotions fill her up
crying
Cause’ everythings changed
Shes expired
NO use for anybody anymore
not wanting to believe it
but knowing its true
they make it clear nowadays
screaming
hitting
throwing things at her
teasing her
never ending hate
its all stupid
the way she thinks of it
People cry when they listen to her story
hug her
kiss her
tell her they care
tell her they love her
she wants to believe it’but its not true
Mar 15, 2014
Mar 15, 2014 at 1:02 AM UTC
I daydream of alcohol and pills
Constantly thinking of ways to get away from here
I do not own those surviver skills
Everyone is whispering in my ear
I can no longer hear your voice on the phone
Someone please take me home
May 29, 2015
May 29, 2015 at 10:26 AM UTC
4/12/17
At 8pm, it is the changing of hats
in assisted living
It is time I releive a woman
from sitting in the dark
waiting for our paycheck to die.
She survived one more shift.
it is my turn at this game of russian roulette.
I meet so many strangers this way,
Each night before I sit, and wait for doors to close
I take oppurtunity to watch one open
Ask the new surviver to tell me their story.
and Write them down.
she moved across the countrey
away from her sister
a divorce from her beleifs.
sister Against God.
I empathize
How hard to move across The world,
pack up your morals
move in with your ex sisters ex husband.
I promptly told her I was polyamorous.
That my lover moved to ireland
To live with her husband
Packed up everything
She did not flinch.
I held this stranger
as she cried on my shoulder
She
in the fifteen moments I saw her
Realized
the world of differences between us.
She can find comfort in solitude
never once knew what I thought
of her Morals
How In my family
we celebrate divorce
how all burning houses are Phoenix fires
abusers can nametag forever
nametag your body is my body
Nametag husband
I worry for her safety.
A woman who doesn't beleive
in the word stop.
Doesn't consider leaving
my biggest fear is those
afraid to weild the word no.
to close the door.
she closes the door
I sit in the dark to my journal
I write down this poem beside a dying man.
the next contestant releives me at 8am.
I pass her the revolver.
I have survived this round of russian roulette.
He died the next night
and it does not feel like winning.
I live in the world of
revolving doors and revolvers
I wish to be the bullet.
pass through their skull as they go
see what they were thinking
In that last moment.
May 19, 2017
May 19, 2017 at 2:43 PM UTC
Blue marks crawl up your arms
Blood spilling to the ground
The cloth that once was crystal white
Turning red before your eyes
As I duck away from my mind
I find myself fighting back
Because this time
They will not see the pain behind my eyes
Because this time
I don't need anyone's acceptance
And I realize now
That I never needed it in the first place
Jan 29, 2019
Jan 29, 2019 at 8:29 PM UTC
My sister, my diver,
My seeker, my surviver
It’s been a year since our reunion
Time to us is an illusion
We came together in a time of need
Last year was real, but time moves quickly
You’ve soared high skies,
You’ve roamed the mountains,
You’ve danced in valleys,
You’ve bathed in fountians
I see myself in all that you’ve done
I see us both in constellations
Creating stars in the eternal night sky
Dance with me, let’s polarize
Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 6:29 AM UTC
The one before me
remembers your face.
She still holds the fear
of a child abandoned,
watching a television full of static,
searching for safety,
comforting me because you wouldn't.
I'm blessed not to hold that pain.
The one you left behind a while after
fears a God you never taught loves
her.
The world is pain and rage in her
vision.
I was taught so different.
The youngest-
we can't find him.
We follow your path,
assuming it consumed him.
I desperately pray he still possesses
An ounce of faith and innocence.
They don't know a mother's touch.
They've never been rocked with love,
though too old and grown.
They don't connect with a father,
hugged after an explosion and told
'I love you.'
From the same womb as me,
we carry the same blood.
Yet only I
have ever felt loved.
What makes me so much more worthy?
Sep 15, 2017
Sep 15, 2017 at 8:00 PM UTC
Now that I mount back toward happiness,
I ask myself
Will it ever be the same again
Even these days I find myself
Writing words with tears on paper
I'm asking myself
Because you are still the surviver
Of more than one line
Apr 16, 2019
Apr 16, 2019 at 8:37 AM UTC
I am hurt and I'm broken, I feel so much pain inside that it makes me suffer. I can smile,laugh & hide my pain, I am unbroken, theirs a part of me that I'll never get back a little boy grew up to fast! I'm confused, is that a good or bad thing? But I seem to walk and not look back, why? Because I'm unbreakable!. I pray and pray for my troubles to leave. I'm a warrior, why? Because I'm warrior. I seem to craw little by little and pass my storm? Does that mean I'm a surviver? Or does that me that I'm just lucky to get out of their alive? I walk and think of all the things that broke me once, why can't they break me again? I'm unbreakable. The devil tries to get to me in anyway, and all I say is "test me" why? Because I'm a warrior. I was in the dark, feeling like it was home, but I knew it wasn't because I felt scared. If it was home, why would I feel scared? I wish I knew then what I know now, I'm wide awake, I can finally see everything through my lion eye, I'm wide awake, but in seem to fall, but never break, why? Because I'm unbreakable. I face my demons as I walk down this storm, but they seem scared? Why? I'm weak!, I'm breakable , I have no strength. But i walk down the storm and a light from above lights on me and leads me. I don't know where but I seem to follow the light! I see light ahead of me. I start to feel strong, happy. I walk out of my storm and see life. But I know that my Journey isn't over, why? Because it's testing my faith, because I'm unbreakable.
Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 9:42 AM UTC
Cuddled under a blanketed canopy,
riddled with holes making a makeshift starlit sky
Is a greasy little man named Poe.
He breathes in the stench of the city
Of the trash cans and alley cat ****
He hears the life around him.
The beeping of passing cars
The rattle of the subway tearing through the sky
Shouts of the stumbling drunks
The whistle for a taxi
And the melodic laughter of old friends.
And he breathes.
He breathes in the frigid air around him and feels it travel through his body.
It freezes his nose, shakes his lungs
brings goose bumps to his limbs
and drives his body to shutter and shake.
And he thinks.
He thinks of a warm bath
A lit candle
A blanketed duvet
A full stomach
brushed teeth
a soft pillow
and the warm touch of a loved one.
He dreams of better places and better times.
Of a house with a roof
And a morning with a purpose.
These dreams take him to a faraway place.
And camouflage the reality of his life.
These dreams keep his heart beating
His lungs pumping
And the slightest smile to his weathered lips.
In an alley, under a blanket of misfit stars
Lays a man named Poe.
He's a vagabond.
He's a dreamer.
He's a surviver.
Apr 23, 2018
Apr 23, 2018 at 1:10 AM UTC