Details |
Dawn Byndon Poem
Things are so quiet
Letters don’t soar
No one talks at all
They try but they fail
Inaudible words excel
Forever i think that words don’t have sound
Only emotions can turn the world around
That's what we were taught
We were taught that we shall be silenced
That words won’t break us free
That we should take actions
We were taught to throw the first punch
Instead of using our words, we used anger
To satisfy our vengeance hunger
We weren't taught good actions from bad
We were praised for having violence
And bad emotions targeting people
We were taught that words were flagrant and should be banned
We silenced the only people who took a good stand
We were too scared so we didn’t talk
So whenever someone used words
We were desperately shocked
Even though some who visited never knew that we could understand
Or hear the words they used
Words do hurt I may say
But i’d rather hear those distressing words meant to hurt
Than be silenced and have no stand
So that day I got up too
I used my words
Those thoughts I kept in for so long
I Spoke my mind forever as time will go on
-Dawn.B
Copyright © Dawn Byndon | Year Posted 2025
|
Details |
Dawn Byndon Poem
I’d be mad at the world
If you suddenly decided to write your story with a rope
Tied to a ceiling
Or a razor
Glided against your pulse
No one goes out without a story
And your story wasn't perfect
No one's is
But you couldn't write some things in your story
And in your story someone else altered it
To hurt you
So
Some pages are torn and wrinkled
I don't think you can mend all the pages
You can't fully straighten a crumpled paper ball
But you can smooth it out
And try as best as you can to fix it
There will always be scars
Trust me
But scars are healed wounds
And you can alter the future of your story
Always
And scars can fade over time
Or till they leave a tiny mark
Therefore
If your story got too long
And too dark
I wouldn't remember how you went out
Because I'd be too angry at the world
But I'd remember your mark.
-D.B
Copyright © Dawn Byndon | Year Posted 2025
|
Details |
Dawn Byndon Poem
Your ribs exploded.
Your lungs burst out.
Filled with the Venom.
Your childhood and trauma caused.
Yet.
I gently took your heart.
Then I ripped the skin off.
My throat, My thighs, My chest.
Your favorite parts of me.
To replace.
The nasty.
Horid.
Putrid.
Rotten flesh.
That filled your body for over a decade.
No questions asked.
When I ripped out my heart strings.
To attach to yours.
And you looked at me with disdain.
I continued to pull and tug at myself.
Even when i bled all over your floors.
And cried out in pain.
You watched.
You didn't answer.
You pointed at your scars.
You sighed.
You watched tears roll down my cheek.
We loathed eachother.
Then you ran to someone else.
Who had toxic waste and blood.
Dripping off their fangs.
And you gave them.
My healed flesh.
Ripped right off your body.
You looked back.
Only to see if I would be gullible enough.
To let you come back.
If you need more newely broken parts
Or
You needed to be healed
From her rotten ways.
Then your rotten flesh slowly became.
mine.
Copyright © Dawn Byndon | Year Posted 2026
|
Details |
Dawn Byndon Poem
Do you know about the promises I made to the sun and moon begging them to rescue me. From this horrible misery I live. Where I am not the real me to the fate that's been chosen for me. I am a daughter, sister, cousin, ex, friend, rival. I am not any of those things at all actually. I am a gust of wind and whimsy you will feel once in your life, take for granted, then you will never feel me again. You will miss the feeling and yearn for my coming. Yet you will spend your life trying to unravel my mysteries. You will write about me on your journey to find me. You will research me. Find something similar but never quite me. There will never be another me. You will take it apart. Only to discover it is filled with the dust that has built up under your fingertip from years. Of waiting, watching, preying, deceiving. Only to get to me. I will never come back. You take the sun for granted but if it never came back you would die. Yet you never thank it. I don't blame the Sun. If one day it decides to escape to the clouds. Get lost and never come back. You'd miss it then. You only miss that bag of candy you've been craving for years but couldn't find anywhere. When you've had the bag. Savored it or Savaged it. You only miss it when it's gone. Therefore you do not miss me. You miss who you thought I was. You miss how you felt. Not How i felt. How you felt. You don't care how I feel. You do not know me. You know the idea of me.
Copyright © Dawn Byndon | Year Posted 2026
|