"traumatizes" poems
I love the kind of cold
winter leaves me with
but the coldness you shower,
it traumatizes me!
-Dolkar Lhamo
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 6:15 AM UTC
Oh man oh man you should have seen him
I said whiteness is a mental illness
a dissociative disorder
dissociating from being human to construct something
constantly
never finished
never human until it stops
his head started to shake
then spin around like an angry owl
people were scared
the police stopped traffic
a priest came for the exorcism
the man made out the words
“I…no…you can’t just group everyone together like that”
see what I mean
thats dissociative behavior
whiteness is the grouping of humans
it is not an ethnicity
like the humans are actually made of
that it tries to possess
It needs to stop
It has had impunity due to legal dissociation
Whiteness was invented
to create skin color based slavery
for profit
for the exploitation of being human
unless you are trying to create slavery
whiteness is a mental illness
needs treatment immediately and those
that whiteness traumatizes by dissociation
also need impunity and protection from
a genocidal maniac called whiteness
narcissistic
smash its mirror
to treat whiteness as a mental illness
and to treat it
is overly compassionate
considering it is actually criminal
the mans head stopped spinning
he came back and said calmly
“Thank you. You are right."
Jul 30, 2016
Jul 30, 2016 at 1:28 PM UTC
My eyes hurt after I cry. Every time. Did you know that?
Its like my head is telling me to close them, and maybe I won't see the blood strewn across my childhood walls, my childhood hands, anymore. Their assailants were little secret cuts made each day, desperate to ask for help.
Years after they stopped, my eyes can still see them. My walls talk to my head and remind me how many times I wished I were dead. And I don't feel them, I can't fathom them, but they eat at the frays of my sanity, the few weak threads, and start tearing the life I've put together for myself apart. Who am I? I can't tell if I'm a death-lusting 15 year old or a stable and happy 20 year old woman. My eyes get so blurry here.
Its so hard with this picturing mind, to not remember how picture perfect we could be sometimes. I forget the calling and crying and cutting for those little snapshots that make me think I ruined all of it. That its my fault we're not picturesque enough to send perfect post cards for Christmas anymore. Its hard to convince myself it was never that way in the first place.
I mean, cmon, Grace, open those burning eyes of yours. You've felt like an outsider since you were young. Your father joked that with your starlight hair and sky eyes you were an alien that they adopted one day, but the odd part is you kind of understood why it could be true. Not just because of the celestial features, but you never belonged. The daughter they wanted and made you to believe you needed to be was never you. You walked on glass shards of your own shattered heart to try to reach the strange plain where your parents resided, but the more you bled the further you felt.
But they lied, you're their flesh and blood, that part can't be undone. They gave you special recessive genes to a T and made you suffer as a child for having them. To top it all off they gave you this ****** photographic memory that traumatizes you too well. Its like you can never leave the blood behind.
Yet tonight your eyes hurt, even too much to picture the blood, so maybe its time for some rest. The memories, the blood, even they can wait. For now what you need, god forbid you admit this, is some silence and rest. There has been enough clatter between your ears for one night. Who knows, some people might not even be able to withstand such clatter and chatter for a lifetime.
Guess your just a special recessive alien like that.
Dec 27, 2015
Dec 27, 2015 at 3:32 PM UTC
It shadows a figure that's afraid to embrace their inner talents or undiscovered strengths
Fearful of the consequences of the planned mishaps and failed attempts.
It creeps in and traumatizes your character and demoralize your determination,
Sweat drips from your face, your hand soaks in fright and your body undergoes a burning sensation.
Starstruck in judgement and animosity,
Who knew that life came with a policy?
Emotions and faith consistently triggered by the inability of credibility
Eyes inflamed with tears while my mind attacks me physically
As it continue to haunt and knaw on my self esteem,
I now found the answer to why my efforts weren't deemed.
Thinking that maybe the criticism were the problem but the problem lies beneath a surface of glass,
A glass that won't allow a bullet to pierce through but enclose the demons that feed on the hope so it won't last.
Knees quivers, stumbling accelerates, panting starts to become a way of breathing,
Nervousness sinks in, failure feeds back and anxiety becomes the prominent feeling.
It's not the result that scarce the mentality, it's feeling that you're not good enough, it's seeking validation and disappointing yourself.
It's feeling worthless and useless and denying you need help.
The lack of confidence shadows a goal driven individual that misses out on opportunities in fear of not being enough.
The lack of confidence manipulates a talented soul that makes success become so rough.
Confidence become a puddle of melancholia with false hope and desired faith,
Stuck in a trans and the cycle begins again as I wait.
Wait on the moment to empower myself and encourage my abilities,
Turn my insecurities into security to soar for opportunities and amend unity.
It's time to stop waiting and breakthrough.
I believe in me.
I hold the key.
And I will let my confidence free.
-dpk
Mar 9, 2017
Mar 9, 2017 at 1:35 AM UTC
My mind encompasses a cumulonimbus cloud that strikes my spine of agony and hope.
My nerve impulse consists of abuse that traumatizes my heart yet it beats on hope as a way to cope.
The pain sleeps underneath the bags under my eyes and feeds on the despair which hides behind my smile,
My soul is trapped behind the body that’s been burdened wearing heavy armor for awhile.
I’m a shadow to a reflection that’s unrecognized that became my escapism.
I remember telling myself that love is a blessing but I’m a curse.
That love will never devour me until it strips every heartbreak from my bones that ruptured into me like a bullet.
My skeleton shows missing fragments that my bulletproof skin was unable to fit though it survived the full impact of distress that ever hit.
This body is an armor of tinted smiles and radiant persona to pleasure the pain in my heart for encouragement that it too one day can be jovial.
But my armor isn’t strong enough to stitch wounds of my past to allow a peace of mind to last.
Beneath this skin are bones made up of affliction and anguish that doesn’t ossify after it’s pierced
I’ve carried this weight that was always too much on my plate for years that even the screams in my head wasn’t enough to lay my sorrows on the bed.
Days may have been black and white but the sun keeps me buoyant with everything I do,
It reminds me that I am the crayolor in a colorless distraught though I may feel blue.
-dpk
May 7, 2018
May 7, 2018 at 9:53 PM UTC
Imagination so dark
Mind so dark
I can't see a single thing
Not even anything
Except from gore
It traumatizes me more
Than it should've
It makes me disgusted
It makes me distrusted
Of my own imagination
My imagination
Makes me cry
From being scared
Kai is my name
死ぬ is my other name
Or at least that's what my dark imagination tells me...
Imagination makes me a fool for life and dreams
I can't tell the difference between life and dreams
It's difficult because of my dark imagination
It's too realistic
My mind is a bit too artistic
A bit too much gore
I don't want anymore
It makes me scared
Scared
That I might become one of them
Nov 19, 2024
Nov 19, 2024 at 12:28 PM UTC
Have you ever felt so unloved?
Your heart just chokes with all the pain and bruise.
Left an unbanded scar open,
All the love and memories being stolen.
How can you hurt a heart that's already broken?
Just ****** the little feelings, capturing all the meanings.
Is it hard for it to be repaired?
Just holes that beats melodicaly but scared.
Pounding, killing that lil' thing we need for survival,
Yet attacking all the happiness as its rival
Who needs something that traumatizes them emotionally, physically, wanting it to die desperately?
It's just a rhythm that feeds on you,
Rottening and displaying you.
Just a body with beautiful features,
But a heart that's a horrifying creature.
-dpk
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 8:07 PM UTC