Swells Jun 9
how far have i gone
to collect these uncomfortable bones
whose aching shakes in my skin
like a hungry hound tied to an empty home.

how many blues have i sown
and harvested from each vein
that failed to bleed red, but screamed
"what are you going to gain?"
and crumbled instead.

how many homes have i burned
that nursed me from fetus in my mind
taking stock of careful crutches
while choking on the smoke
in my lies.

how many words have rotted
and blackened like berries on my tongue
that left the god grown belly trembling for
mercy, and the heart begging
"when is it going to be enough?"
Freddie Ruiz Jun 22
Angels dialogue with me intimately
and even the spark in their eyes comfort me
more than your devious tongue ever did,
more than your uncomfortable presence ever will.
Written on May 3, 2011
Composition number: 381
AS Jan 23
When you think you’re finally free, all want to do is see and thrive.
Wandering around curiously like a child, questioning everything here and there.
Then a boundary crossing monster appears with malicious intent.
The work done to undo the pain, all seems to be in vain.
Worried and still, afraid to witness others judgement and stare.
Reduced to old habits of isolation and numbing.
Being smothered with an egotistical painful air.
Stirring anxiety of a person who’s worked tirelessly to mend.
An angry boy!
Reflecting his manifested discomfort onto people who struggle and recently found the courage to begin to speak.
No excuses for anyone, but the person in the mirror.
Domineering, loud and thriving off creating an uncomfortable crowd.
Behaviours of a bully, lashing out in his own obvious anguish.
But really what is there to gain?
Oblivious maybe?
Or not to giving a shit!
That venom he spits, even when begged to restrict.
Offended by reducing a girl to tears, who is recovering from some traumatic monumental years.
PTSD that is her shame, the highest highs and the lowest lows.
Spiralling back into the black hole, which is on the brink of destroying her soul.
Triggered flashbacks constantly every day!
To those days you take the steps, plunging into the extremes.
Feeling that you can no longer breathe, feeling there is only one answer.
No energy or sanity left, you come close many times to taking your last breath.
So, remember when someone asks, just to stop and let go.
Don’t carry on and on and on….
Until someone see’s there is no point to carry on.
Look at the words you say, do not take their agony as an attack and the social ways they lack.

© 2018
Abigail Sheard
Loco Cocoa Apr 29
4/29/18 5:47 pm

I wish you wouldn't blame yourself
For those memories I'll never get
I wish you wouldn't flinch so much
At dinner
when the conversation
meanders to my name
I wish my happiest moments
were shared with some of yours
I wish my accomplishments the same
I wish you could make a guilt-free trip
To see me.
I wish when I smiled
Your soul would adhere and do as such
I wish those times when I was knocked off balance
Your love would have been my crutch
I wish in our text messages there was no distance
I wish phone calls between us existed
I wish my existence didn't make you so uncomfortable.
I wish you would have gotten to know me
I wish you could have helped to paint my canvass
I wish you knew I'm not upset
I wish it wasn't too late
A ticket won’t take
these tired children
to a safe and warm place,

won’t help me escape
from the darkness
that stains
their strained face.

My fear is misplaced
as a scraggly faced stranger
stumbles out of the night shade
asking for the time
and any spare change.
My apprehension
is mine not his shame.

A shining sign
sears the night,
illuminating the people
who sleep
just inches from my feet
under a thin torn blanket
that barely conserves any heat.

Their struggle
makes me uncomfortable.
It is not love,
but guilt
that makes me give
the hurt homeless kids
a buck or two.

A day away
I barely
think of these
human beings
as I luxuriate
in my comfortable lifestyle.
I really like it when people like me
I hear people say all the time,
"Im not here to please anyone"
I doubt that could ever work for me
I feel happy when i can make someone smile
With my words or a simple gift of squash from my garden or going slightly out of my way to find out their birthday so i can gift them with their birthstone
Its ironic, however, that i dont always feel comfortable recieving gifts
As if i dont deserve them
Maybe other people feel the way i do
I wonder if thats why they distance themselves a bit when i shower them with affection
Do they think that i expect something in return?
Something they dont feel comfortable giving?
How can i go about making someone feel loved and appreciated without them being uncomfortable around me?
Is it their discomfort around me or my own?
This happens to me quite often. I just want to make friends. Im happy when the people im around are happy.

— The End —