"tormenters" poems
She was a child once.
Eyes wide and sparkling with hopes and dreams untarnished.
An entire future stretching out before her.
She saw the world through a kaleidoscope,
A beautiful mess of endless neon colors,
Untouched by darkness and disappointment.
Pain was temporary; A scraped knee, a paper-cut.
Band-aids could heal every injury.
Her smile was a permanent fixture of sincerity,
Radiating happiness. A gaze full of inquisitive wonder.
When she lay her head down at night,
Her chest was not heavy with worries and cares.
Her mind was not filled with the ghosts of her past.
Sleep came easily, a quilt of comforting warmth enveloping her,
Sweeping her away to the land of dreams.
Blissful in her ignorance she lived, unaware that one day,
The monsters under her bed would make a home inside her head.
That her heart would fracture and die.
That the world she had known was a lie.
She wasted all her wishes wanting to be older,
Age was overrated, but nobody told her.
At 8 she was so innocent, at 10 she was just fine,
13 was disillusionment, the start of her decline.
At 15 she was in High School, they told her, "be mature".
Society screamed conformity, now she was insecure.
At 16 she was lonely, desperation took its hold.
Love slipped through her fingers like drops of liquid gold.
Now, at 17, she's stuck in a recession.
She thought the therapy had dispelled her depression.
She looks in the mirror and despises her reflection,
She is bent, bruised and broken, a mess of imperfection.
Past mistakes, her tormenters, they tear her apart.
Her body, a cage, imprisons her heart.
Each breath is a burden as she lay in bed.
She can't sleep at night, theres a war inside her head.
No one ever told her the price of growing older.
They never said she'd have
A crushing weight put on her shoulders.
Suffocating in this life, poisoned at her core,
Once she was a child,
A child she is no more.
Jun 30, 2013
Jun 30, 2013 at 7:32 PM UTC
I rage
I roar
I pull at the restraints like
a mad man who only wants blood
I rage
I roar
They have you!
Locked away to where I can’t see you
They taunt me
They tease me
They look at me as if
I have turned into a savage dog
I rage
I roar
I scream at the top of my lungs your name,
but it only falls on the deaf ears of my tormenters
They are foolish
They don’t check the restraints
They don’t know that the chains
that keep me from you, are about to break
I rage
I roar
They hold a photo of you in front of my face
They ask me with a laugh, “Do you like our handy work?”
They have painted your body black and blue
Your eyes…your eyes are swollen shut
I fall to my knees and grow numb
They roar with laughter thinking they have defeated me
Their laughter shakes me to the core,
where it blossoms into a magnificent fire
I rage
I roar
I shake uncontrollably
as I calmly stand with my eyes closed
They have grown silent
The shaking slows and stops
The fire inside of me explodes into an inferno
My eyes snap open and I look them in the eye
I rage
I roar
I pounce at them like a savage dog
tearing them to pieces
I rage
I roar
I run down the hall searching every room for you
It’s the last door I come to where I find you huddled in a dark corner
I fall to my knees with tears of joy leaking from my eyes
I hold you like a newborn baby
Letting you rest your head on my shoulder
You are strong
You are brave
We stand together hand in hand
Leaving this hellish place
No more raging
No more roaring
Mar 22, 2013
Mar 22, 2013 at 1:17 PM UTC
*Her body was tattered and scorned,
tainted by the words of hatred,
and bruised by the ones who said they loved her.
Nobody saw past the warped exterior,
nobody peeled back her layers of armor,
hardened by the tormenters,
nobody wanted to love the girl that was damaged.
If they did peel back those layers,
if they did become rightful to her inner beauty,
they'd see an angel, an angel who has fallen.
They would see a butterfly, with vibrant wings that demanded attention,
they would see a gorgeous rose, who's petals have been frayed,
they would see her for who she really is.
They would see her as a women.
A women of many hardships.
A women strong enough to move oceans,
and fight wars.
They would see a women so strong,
not even the mightiest of blades could slice through her armor,
she was a women of gold.
c.r.k*
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 5:06 PM UTC
Not once, not twice, a thousand times or more
I want to change, pursuing the perfect of lore
Wishing to be the person everyone loves; not a façade
A gilded cover I wear so well, my shelter; my god
This wasn’t my hope; this wasn’t my dream
I want to be the person that to others I seem
But I’m painfully aware, what a shattered mess
Broken to pieces, who wouldn’t think less
Less of the person they thought they knew
It’s their own fault, they never even wanted to
Be there, be helpful, be heard, be kind
And you’re surprised I say, “There’s no hope to find”
I wish I could stand, could fight; be brave
I’ve tried before, when I was young, and naïve
Over time I thought I’ve been beaten down
But gotten back up, gone for another round
But the whole time I’m bound to the floor
Helplessly dying, drowning in my own ****** gore
My appearance is a hero, dashing, strong and calm
But my heart is pinned, consumed by my qualm
I want to be good, I want to be right
Sometimes I hate my deceitful sight
But whenever I’m sure hope is in my grasp
A fiery strike from truth; that poison snake; that asp
Hands and heart are bound, but my tongue is free
Free to get up and run, but my eyes cannot see
I need a hope, a hand to hold, a voice to follow
But no one’s here; not friend at least, there be a horde of foe
I want to scream, but I’ve tried that before
I confess I’m lost! A broken heart alone on the floor
When do I get saved? I can’t rely on myself
My tormenters wait to put my heart upon the shelf
Another trophy, another victory won
Please, dear God, don’t turn and run
You could win; you could save me couldn’t you?
I’m helpless, there’s nothing left for me to do
But why won’t you show or speak, or rescue me?
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 10:49 AM UTC
Some people live a charmed life
I haven't
How to live without the worries, the memories overtaking the present?
Just be here
In this moment, everything is OK
Sunday morning
Quiet out, even the freeway sounds are dimmed
My neighbors who get visits from three giant police officers
with weapons, and they all look eight feet tall,
are asleep and quiet for the moment.
Birds outside
I wake up with my coffee and almond milk
A bitter drink, but cruelty free
That is so important to me
After all I have suffered at the hands of others
Not to be an exploiter of a senseate being
Not to ever be like those who hurt and walk away
I go to my half couch
Sit and cover myself with a fuzzy blanket
Little Julietta, my tri-color semi-feral rescue hops up for a pet
There are memories
At 45, I have regrets and pain
and fear of more pain
But not in this moment
In this moment, everything is peaceful
The tormenters are absent
I've run away from them
Excised them from my life
Ignored them, they are all gone
There is a day ahead to live, moment by moment
The flashbacks, the dark thoughts come
Pray, let them pass by like the cars on the distant freeway
To experience them once is not avoidable
To extend that, is
They can float by like clouds on a windy day
There is nothing more to learn from them
No more healing from experiencing their pain
Here. Now. Is OK. That is all we have.
Jul 22, 2012
Jul 22, 2012 at 1:42 PM UTC
I wait... in silence... for answers.
Dawn approaches and my quest is yet to be fulfilled.
I know that my tormenters will continue to pursue me until I have found what I am in search of.
Yet, I know that, if I find it, it may not be what I came to find.
Yet, my tormentors still come, so I still search.
Noon has approached and past.
Still my tormentor comes.
I still cannot find the remedy I need.
My tormentors grab at my heart and mind.
They provide me with a pain so unbearable.
I feel the world closing in. UGH! How I wish to die!
The sun sets as it always does.
Still I have not found what I came for.
My tormentors still torment.
The pain still consists and has grown.
Night becomes inevitable.
I wonder if I shall ever find what I am looking for.
Perhaps not. Perhaps I shall.
Day after day I shall wake a repeat.
I shall not let me search come to an end without the answers I seek.
Jul 26, 2013
Jul 26, 2013 at 12:41 PM UTC
You never see past the fake smile that is plastered on
You never see the BrOkEneSs that has embedded itself in her soul
She never cries for fear that someone will see how broken she truly is
She waits for a hero
Day after day scars appear on her arms because she has such a desire to control at least one aspect of the pain that torments her
She screams at night wondering who will come and rescue her
When will her tormenters stop persecuting her
Day by day she waits for her hero until she can wait no more
She writes her last words down
She takes the pills and swallows - swallows - swallows
One by one the pills slowly take action ripping her insides to shreds until she takes her last breath
Will anyone mourn her loss?
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 1:51 PM UTC
labourer under tough work
no one else can do
slave spit words
aimed at your sagging back
yes, slave contempt from others
but a slaves mind is free
and your tormenters know
you are silently victorious
Aug 22, 2015
Aug 22, 2015 at 2:52 PM UTC
Don’t let the tormenters win
Don’t let the rapists win or the child molesters win
By killing yourself
Don’t let the terrorists win
Let the enemy win
By killing your self
Don’t let the flashbacks win
The emotions
Or nightmares win
By killing yourself
I have too many idiots to prove against to go and do something stupid and reckless
Feb 28, 2021
Feb 28, 2021 at 7:16 PM UTC