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ShowerThe water beats down
Blistering my skin
As I watch, sobbing
As the dirt washes
fresh wounds and bruises
The water beats down
blistering my skin
hitting where bruises
had once been.
Wounds turned to scars
Its been 3 years today
The water beats down
blistering my skin.
I still see them
I scrub where
the bruises had been
5 years still havent
washed them away
The water beats down
10 years have past
as i wonder where he is.
If ill ever get back
what he stole.
I start to scrub again
The water beats down
As it has thousands
of times before,
yet I still look down
and feel like a whore
15 years later,
not an end in sight
I didnt want it.
So why does it haunt
me every night?
A life of fear and regret
A living death sentence
from a man I once met
A smile and blade,
are visions of that day
I was forced to lay
with a man i didnt love
the one who hurt me
and took so much
Investigations long over,
prices not yet paid
Make me long for the days
before I was raped.
Anchors so BlueWhen I close my eyes and start dreaming,
Everything starts seeming,
So very blue.
Blue for the tears I have shed for you,
Blue as the uniform on your back,
Blue as oceans that keep us worlds apart.
As blue as it gets,
This one thing I know is true
I will be for ever waiting for you.
For the day the blue sky smiles upon us
For the day I can look into your blue eyes
And tell you in person
I love you.
Though miles and waves may keep us apart,
Just know, you have anchored my heart.
And one day, and I know this to be true,
My dreams will be of a kinder blue
DriveNo matter how fast I drove I could never seem to get to the next mile marker. I blamed it on the ice and sleet, just playing tricks on me. As I pulled over to wait out the storm, a gust of wind hit me. I looked in the rear view mirror and saw the lights. I zipped up my jacket and ran towards the accident knowing an ambulance would soon be on its way. That truck... it looked so familiar. As I slid down the embankment into the ditch I could see the police officers light. I as I tried to swing the door open it wouldn't move. I could see the person slumped against it. Frantic I tried to flag down the police officer to help me, but he ran right by, like he didn't see me at all. It was cold... so cold. As the ambulance pulled up I went and waited in my truck, hoping for the best for that poor girl. When I saw them pull the body bag out my worst fears had come true. I silently said a prayer as more vehicles arrived. It was my mom, and my dad... I ran out to explain everything but they wouldn'
fear and waitingYou walk, carrying on your everyday life
I see you, out of the corner of my eye,
Even thought we are miles apart.
That grin forever burned in my mind.
I can feel the flood.
I can feel the hatred, the regret, the shame.
I feel like panicking, or crying.
My insides are screaming for what I once was.
What I once had, and what you took from me.
I wasn't the first, and I know I wont be the last.
But I can wait.
I can wait until the day they know I was telling the truth.
Until the day you get caught.
When your world starts crashing down just like mine did.
Until you loose everything you've worked so hard for.
And that normal day feeling everyone should be entitled to.
I will relish the day, you are in handcuffs, and locked away.
Because then maybe you'll feel some of the fear I have,
Caged inside yourself, afraid to be near those around you.
I'll never forgive, I'll never forget
Field of HerosI walk among the crosses
Looking a the names, but not seeing them
I walk down the rows, and slowly those around me disapear
I see those I've known,
and those I've lost
I watch the battles play out
I watch the shipmates I've come to know
I see young men and women
Standing solomly behind their names,
A crisp salute from each, and a tear strolling down their face
I see their families pass by
And not even acknowledge them
The sorrow grows deeper the longer I walk
I wonder who these people could have been
And what they would say
If they could see the country they had died for
They arent remembered by most
Just another name on the list,
on this national bbq day.
It hits me harder then most I suppose
On this Memorial day
PathMy path is not one that many have known
I carry the scars and bruises to show,
Where I am, and where it is I plan to go.
I do not weep for the sorrows,
And I cry not for the mistakes,
For I know I am not done finding my own way.
I seek something greater then what people have shown,
I hope not to ignore whats around me,
But to know the fortunes the world truly holds.
I refuse to play my part that society gives to me.
I will find my own way, and all the answers that lay in-front of me.
So carry on with your judgements, and call me what you will.
But know that I am free from your burdens,
And you are stuck where you are, still, in a unforgiving moment.
DustHe watches the dust swirl around his boots
as he gazes out over his once fertile fields.
Slowly he turns to the trail of dust fallowing the old pick up.
Its his brother, coming home to family farm
In his hand is the notice,
Telling his family that 6 generations mean nothing any more.
The foreclosure paper work in hand,
Together they gaze out on their god forsaken land.
And wonder, what it will be like, being torn away from who they are.
Just another beat down, lost, hungry face, in the crowd of a nation.
pleaseEver since that plane took off things have been different.
My mom and I jump everytime the phone rings,
Shiver with fear everytime the door bell rings.
We wait paitently to receive a letter.
Just to know hes alive.
To know somewhere in the world, my dad is okay.
We cant know where he is,
Its to risky they say...
We wait to hear when he will be home,
When the war will end,
We know even when its over things will not be the same.
War changes people, but thats okay.
Because Daddy, I love you,
Please come home
Daddys sailorHe wishes that I died a hero, instead of coming home a victim.
He wishes I fought the war he never could, instead of getting discharged.
We dont speak. Theres no need. His actions say it all.
I wish he knew what really happened, instead of what his friends said online.
I wish I was his daughter again, instead of his failed sailor.
I'm sorry I was raped and scared, instead of being emtionless like you Dad.
Unable to loveMy love was pure
I only wanted
But my heart
Because my love
Like a piece of garbage
And now I'm unable
Because the shreds
Of my shattered soul
MathematicsI am but the sum of my
F L A W S;
a network of
S C A R S
a disaster of
D R E A M S
a shield of
B O N E S
C A L C U L A T I O N
a void of
to the girl i lose my words aroundi have been meaning to tell you for years:
i think you’re beautiful. i have
seen nothing on earth that holds a candle
to the ocean you carry inside your body.
it spills over your edges sometimes, like
a rain shower around you, blurring your penciled-in
lines until there is nothing left of you but your natural
cliffs, valleys, and deserts.
i like that.
i have never met someone who is, somehow,
a sea and a storm at the same time.
maybe i never will again.
maybe you are the only one
who gathers clouds on her forehead
like a promise, or feels the push and pull of the tide
with her every step.
you are beautiful, honestly.
you are honest, beautifully.
it is in the way you talk, the way you hold ice
on your tongue but forget to use it—
you always forget to use it, i don’t think
you know how.
to be truthful, i’m afraid of your smile
and how it breaks over me, how it pulls
me like a whirlpool down, how it pushes me
like a current back to the surface. i’m afraid of
now i see the stars.there was a time when i
couldn't catch my breath whenever i
thought about you , (crippled lungs and-
boy, you hit me like an asteroid,
there's a crater on my chest now that I can't ever seem to fill,
oceans of my tears cried on
nights when you couldn't be there to sing me to sleep.
thirty two poemless days after you joined the constellations,
i walked out into the yard and howled to the empty sky,
for a moment i was Gaea, rivers running down my cheeks,
weighted to the ground and
buried in myself, but
where there is no light there are no shadows, and
sometimes, i wonder if i miss me.
yes, i do.
i may not see the moon, but
Abuse Is Sometimes NecessaryPush and pull at her long hair, topple her to the solid ground,
elbow her sharply in the raw gut, shove her harshly around.
Scratch him in the pale face, punch him in the broken jaw,
do anything necessary to him that's considered breaking the law.
And when she cries because you've punched her, let her be,
and observe her when she returns to her habitual smoking.
When she passes out next day, because she's drunken too much booze,
slap her in the face once more, though many would consider it abuse.
When he can hardly walk because he thinks he's high in the clouds,
rip the needle out of his arm, and with your nails, slash him across the sweaty brow.
Grab them and shake them till their battered and bruised,
tear at their heart, scream in their ears until you've reached the point of verbal abuse.
And when she falls into your chest, and he collapses to the ground,
pull them closely, and whisper, “We can turn this all around.”
And rehab is a necessity for all of you, because you'v
i am made of nights like theseativan boy, you cannot empty out this skull -
not with a pen nor with a bullet. you can
be my hallowed head(case) for spitting out
words like teeth; oh, but i will only love you
when you're weary. i will keep crows caged
between your lungs like veins, like palpitations.
i will rot you through bones & car radios,
but i will never get (you) out of your skin.
ScienceI am more than my
F L A W S;
a masterpiece of
S C A R S
a delicacy of
D R E A M S
a sculpture of
B O N E S
R E A C T I O N
a well of
Good (Great, Greater, Greatest, You)Good (Great, Greater, Greatest, You)
I hope the title caught your eye,
because this is about you.
Many of us speak in superlatives
and ambiguous language.
In imagery-laden text masquerading
underneath double entendres
keeping us from a part of the truth.
But purple streaks and red bands,
harp strings and soft hands
don't begin to explain
the love I have for you.
So I lay these words down
simple in its vulnerability,
blemished and raw in its purity.
The term lissome fits you in many ways,
but not necessarily it its textbook form.
I speak on the part that is not readily seen
but what is easily most cogent.
Your consciousness' cognizance
is graceful in the way
you fold one syllable over
another, supple in its meaning
that can take many forms
going from idle lies
to how we idolize hollow eyes
and uncovered hip bones.
Elegance is an understatement,
but I refuse to speak in cliche superlatives.
I speak honestly
but not with exaggerated grandeur.
Because your immediate app
A broken heartI promised myself I'll never fall in love
Whenever I fall in love I feel renewed and happy
But like a drug
Once everything finishes
I'm crying, depressed and the wreckage of my heart
I always end up feeling worse
I want to find someone that is special
But I'm afraid to suffer again
I'm afraid of losing another person
Do not want to suffer
Do not make me suffer, do not lie to me
Do not hurt me, no more
I will not hold on to people who only sink me
I'll be free and live with have left
A cold and lonely spirit.
FallenYears ago I put on my uniform and boarded that plane.
I left, as I saw my wife crying, and cradling her swollen stomach.
I wrote everday, holding her picture close.
I hope she is doing well, and that our child has grown well.
She doesn't know it, but just because I never came home doesnt mean I left her.
Every day, even though my body is forgotten I am with her.
I hope they find me soon, so she doesnt have to worry anymore.
I know its not how she wanted me to come home.
How she wanted her child to have to greet me, and say goodbye at the same time.
The shallow grave cannot contain the lonelyness or regret I have for leaving.
She knows I had to though... I heard duty calling me.
Teenage TaoismGiving birth is the closest I’d ever felt to dying.
Before that, my near death experiences had consisted only of my silent announcement of pregnancy—silent, being that my social media accounts were all deleted almost simultaneously and I never returned to school in the fall, saying without really saying that I had caught the malicious disease of “teenage pregnancy”. I’m sure the whisper spread in the hallways like the Bubonic Plague. That September, sitting at home on what would have been the first day of my senior year, I imagined friends I’d never talk to again saying “she was only seventeen, and so full of life!” at my absence in the cafeteria tables, as if they were attending my funeral instead of talking about me behind my back.
"Full of life," I had snorted then, folding a never ending stream of what had once been my own baby clothes. "Literally."
I walked around like a zombie for the months of my pregnancy, deciding t
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