It is stitched into my bones, this disease,
call it shame if you need a smaller word.
What it does to me is uglier than that name.
It festers in the soft dark of my soul,
rotting everything my hands reach for.
And still, I love it.
The way you love a scar you keep reopening.
The way you love a fire for the warmth,
even as it eats the house down around you.
I know it will kill me.
I know, and I stay.
So tell me,
how does anyone let go
of the thing that has learned
the exact shape of their hands?
She hears through her eyes,
Watching endless strata of gray,
stacked like firewood awaiting a spark.
The dullness hums beneath the surface,
sending wave after wave through the air,
each vibration folding into the next.
An ocean without water,
its tides composed of repetition,
rising and falling against unseen shores.
Beyond the gray,
a sacred vision waits.
Not heaven—only a circle of standing stones
emerging and vanishing
between the waves.
She walks toward it.
(when my wounds have stopped bleeding and) [their eyes close for just a moment]
(i remove my sharpened bandages yet) [earth cares not of my turmoil i am blanketed in]
(why is there shame in hurting) [skin that was molded greatly in the eyes of no one]
(stars that glimmer for the sake of the night) [seldom bothered by the crowd]
(please i have nothing left to offer get me off) [the tables that merely overhear murmurs]
(this world that munches me bit by bit) [scratches again and again]
until nothing can be made of
(me) [it]
The cuts are clean
They will heal nicely
The wounds are bound up tightly
Cannot see nothing unsightly
Silver strands lay across the skin when seen
Sporadically laid across the legs
Can be passed off as rough play
True knew either way
If others knew
They never said
Probably too afraid to find us dead
With razor blades in hand or blood already shed
We didn't do it for the fear of dying
We did it because we were tired of lying
To ourselves about how we feel
Never properly taught how to deal
For the pain we felt inside
We were told to always hide
Made it seem like it was our fault
For never wanting to talk
When we were ready and mentally steady
We would come to find we would be dismissed
Stating it was part of the teenage bliss
Never truly knowing if we gained death kiss
We wait, and we think, and we suffer for the thought that we wait for the unknown truth. We wait to hear the answer to a question, holding hope for something good to come. All the while, we’re left with the swirling thoughts in our head. And every day that goes by, that hope dims; the wait becomes longer and longer, all for an answer that may never come.
The waves reached out like memories trying to return,
The sky, heavy with unsaid words,
And somewhere between the sea and the storm,
I left a part of me in those waters,
still waiting to be found.
©Chitra Arun
Your color-bled cloth
Just rips at my stitches
I’m monotone; a moth
Calling out to you
With my heavy, little wishes
Fed a steady diet of tweed coat pockets
Bleached in forever stains
And tie dye kisses
In whole, I find a part of me
Your heart sorely misses
Amends for all the faint mistakes
Unearthed while I was bluffing
I perch upon your buttons now
Whispering sweet nothings
Your pettiness is soaking through
Neglected, I’m in love with you
In debt to all your gems
Ugly-headed beauty kills the demons
Yet you’re dressed in them
Another thread of fabric
Slipping from your hem
At least that’s where it seems to me
Your problems mostly stem
Floating and receding
Through the headwinds I’m receiving
Tossed into a better time
Where all your soapy bubbles
Stung my eyes and pierced my stubble
Left me weak and kneeling
Between the lines, my soul would cry
But moths were never known for feeling
I’d crawl to find a warmer spot
Deep inside your shell
Ferocious in its absence
There was solace in your smell
Now my hunger softens
If only for a spell
Who you wished for me to be
Oh, I could never tell
I wish to see smiles on your face.
They shall appear by Father’s grace.
As you travel down human miles,
on your face, I wish to see smiles.
May joy reside deep in your heart.
I pray God blesses all you start.
Dark and light both lifelong abide.
Deep in your heart may joy reside.
Stop life from fooling with joy’s strength.
It has an endless width and length.
Pain and joy are same class schooling.
With joy’s strength stop life from fooling.
I long for gleaming feels in you.
Always tell yourself what is true.
All hearts have emotions that store.
Gleaming feels in you, I long for.
To live bound by “integrity”, where rectitude derides you? It’s starkly accustomed. I enrooted, enclosed by academics--the desolate nature of my sentience consuming my interior. Nether perfection defenestrates my subsequent--and I’m so damn tired. Extort my studies till blood seeps via my retinas, weave my pencil till the anathematic led ruptures; a mere standard in our education. Sacrifice my youth as to my future, conglomerate extracurriculars till my collapse, lay none betwixt within life and school; label it as a system. Shut up, shut up all of you! My exertion incapable of being compensated for—silence, silence, all of you! Toil seldom for me, subsequently bequeathing my labor… Discard my passion, coerce me to fill the perforated gaps in tuition—quiet, quiet, all of you! Refrain from protesting till your own encounter, and perpetually weep!
Shut up, all of you
My future prioritized
Discard my own youth
I'm new to the scars
They look so harsh
And now I wonder
about the upcoming thunder
Afraid I'm?
Afraid to surrender!
I'm new to the burns
My serenity, looks like they yearns
And now I wonder
about the upcoming blunder
Afraid I'm?
Afraid to surrender!
I'm new to the pocks
They entered without any knocks
And now I wonder
what could be another?
Afraid I'm?
Afraid to surrender!
I am skin, I am bone
My vessel all alone
My heart, it is broken as it stays inside it’s tomb
Breaking Through, breaking out
Well, it’s all I want to do
I’ve left bruises and scratches
Hollowed out my chest
Waiting for the darkness to come and take my breath
Let me in, turn the light on
Now it’s time to face your fears
Let me be the one to wallow
You are not meant to be here
Close your eyes, just cave in
Succumb to your dreams
Left the marks you were tracing, cutting across strings
Hidden underneath your doubts
It’s not too late now, just let it all out
Stitches on your eyelids
You dove in too deep
Giving up, giving in
Let your senses take over
Forgive or forget
Though you’ll never have peace once you drown in the abyss
An endless spiral
Don’t try to escape
You’ll leave me restless, locking up the gates
I’ll take your lips and hold them far behind me
Give your “love and affection” till I turn you to stone
Breaking down what’s left of your mold
Call me cold, call me callous
But I’ll always know
You’re the one who broke me
When you ripped off my clothes
I was sitting under the Sigillaria Tree.
For I have been set free,
So I scream with glee!
While the stitching made me bleed.
I am forced to concede.
Forced my arms to my chest,
And I hold me close with no rest,
For I am trapped in this stitched arm unrest,
I am the court jester.
Such words hear me prester!
I have only one question so please foresee,
What will happen to me?
Sun's a mean blue
two clouds turn black
The wind blows sand
the skies rain flack
Early Spring, war-torn Ukraine
reflects a nation's searing pain
'Anthrax, and a lover called Cipro'
my true love
you came an saved me
with no arms of your own
you washed down to the soul of me
giving righteousness in the pit of me
and i screamed out the motto
dum spiro, spero: while I breathe, I hope
and wonder why it took you two year
to call out my name, and save me
from the wrong perilously medical pills of over expose Amoxicillin
and sadly i new (knew) i would not be saved for long
it still lives in my lung and when i smile my teeth
the doc says is anthrax to the out!
and this will be my end
for the best way to infect in ut
is to case it at someone window fan
and let the dust ring out!!
by:lyricvixen bares the true
Disclaimer: THE Poem Does NOT Provide Medical Advice AND IS FOR Information Purposes Only. IT IS NOT Intended TO BE A Substitute FOR Professional Medical Advice OR Treatment.13 years ago abuse • dark • pain • true
Ladles,
Not serving
Bellies on festivals
Ladles,
Not giving festivals!
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