abuse (Remove filter)
Poetry is a Mediocre Diary
There is no good way to really start a poem
and by far
This is the third time I've tried to find a line to begin this
Which will never be the line that could best cooperate with myself
to get what I want.
So I could start my push
into talking about several things
Like how literary poetry is so different in nature to slam poetry, and why I think
both are good
But one is fine art,...
Friday 8th December 2017 12:05 am
Written whilst listening to Ghost Poet: Dial Tones
Tick Tick Tick
You're leaving
You're leaving me alone
You're leaving me lying here
You're leaving me with the memories
Tick Tick Tick
I slowly return to my body
I slowly start to feel my skin again
I slowly feel the bruising on my lips begin to swell
I slowly start to feel the shame seep into my body
Tick Tick Tick
I lye there thinking of you
I lye there thinking of them all
I l...
Monday 24th July 2017 1:02 pm
Growing Up
I am fifteen years old and I think I own the world.
I have a boyfriend and he loves me.
He yells at me but that is okay, he loves me.
He shoves me but that is okay, he loves me.
He slapps me but that is okay, he loves me.
He holds me down as I yell and scream because it hurts but that is okay, he loves me.
I am sixteen years old and I escaped my first abusive relationship.
...Monday 24th July 2017 10:43 am
The Island of Misfit Boys
How is it
that even someone
that clings to broken toys
with a mix of
nostalgia and remorse
that cradles a chinadoll
whose chipped fingers slip through flesh
to the infantile heart at the center of
neurons
Could still
be held in the cradle of arms
owned by someone whose own skin
wields their own patterns of 'horse play'
And brazenly still
Refuses to let go
Of such an uncoordinated ...
Friday 26th May 2017 5:47 pm
Domestic Drama (Part 1)
I know better
so why don't I do better?
Be angry and sin not
that's what the word says
obscene language,
that's what the world says
I'm tired and cranky
and frankly,
I just want to lie in bed
but lo and behold!
She is sleeping there
like Snorlax or Goldilocks
and I'm suppose to bear this?
too tired to fume
want to sweep this away
'Bring the broom, take out the trash,
feed...
Saturday 6th May 2017 1:38 am
Boy
Temporary wounds did form,
Above the ones I had ignored.
And the thoughts you had bestowed in me,
Are nothing but a memory.
Where you were weak, he is so fierce,
And where you lack, he comes in first.
The boy I thought I craved before,
Is nothing but a closing door.
Tuesday 14th March 2017 5:09 am
Recent Comments
Marla Joy on Lions Land.
4 hours ago
Greg Freeman on Dominoes
4 hours ago
M.C. Newberry on Combe Gibbet
5 hours ago
Ian Whiteley on Citizens
5 hours ago
M.C. Newberry on Sashaying to Byzantium
5 hours ago
M.C. Newberry on IT AIN'T ME, BABE
5 hours ago
Auracle on Festive FM
6 hours ago
Tim Higbee on Grandfather
7 hours ago
TobaniNataiella on She Says Goodbye
8 hours ago
R A Porter on Sashaying to Byzantium
11 hours ago