[x]

After Words"I wish you would give it back to me."

"Why? You'll just break it again."

"It's my heart. I will do whatever the hell I want with it."

"Yeah? Well, you take terrible care of things that are yours."

"Fine. Keep it. I am equal parts concrete and soul anyway."

"You say that, but I'm not entirely sure that you are. I think you're deep, and fragile and broken, and that makes you beautiful."

"Again, concrete and soul. "

"I wish you wouldn't make this so hard."

"So hard? I'm making this easy. You gave me dreams of half feathered swans and a stupid house on an endless beach and a city made of an ocean, and now you're taking it all away. But a

UndeservedI don't deserve to be an artist.
 I don't know how to hold deep meaningful conversations with strangers.
 I don't lament at night about a lover I have lost. 
I don't watch the white smoke ebb into darkness.
 I don't spend lonely nights admiring the true beauty of the world.
 I don't sleep restlessly from the truth of suffering within this world. 
I don't lie through my smiles or struggle to create them.

But I do think I am a writer.
 I am completely, irreparably damaged.
 I cry all night over old words and emotional baggage.
 I weep over my lost innocence. 
I spend nights

This is a SongThis is a song for the lost, the broken and the damned,

This is a song for the hopeless, the outgunned and the outmanned.

This is one for the sinners, and the non-believers too,

This is a song for all those people, people just like YOU!

This is the anthem of the normal, the oppressed and the abused,

This is a song for those people hidden from everybody's views.

This is the prayer of the unwanted, the unneeded and the small,

This is one for the unheeded, so let's give it our all!

This is a song for the people, who always just want to cry,

This is the anthem for those who have once wanted to die!

This is a song for all the people, tha

I'm Not the Marrying KindI'm not the marrying kind. 
I have stones in my hair instead of flowers,
And a rosebush of thorns is more poignant to me.  

I'm not the marrying kind. 
My words aren't pretty or wise,
And I can't sing about anything but a broken heart.

  I'm not the marrying kind. 
I am the sort of damaged you see in an old recorder,
And the kind of old in an instrument that breaks into a billion pieces at a touch.  

I'm not the marrying kind. 
Neither neat, nor tidy, nor correct in my behavior,
And yes, I did in fact tell you to fuck yourself.  

I'm not the marrying kind.R

City of LightYou are my city.

Your eyes are the gates,
Your soul is my transport
Your veins the roads I must travel.

You should never ever be afraid
of my knowing you too well.
Or of my being too close to you.

 After all,
 Can you ever,
Even after living your whole life in it, 
Know a city too well?

HopeHope:

She waits for him
at the gates that stood when even the world crumbled
She sighs
knowing that her own name will soon be forgotten

Where once she carried the weight of the world
now her strength is but the tiniest whisper
A single spark, left to crackle amongst the shades
until all is lost in the endless folds of time

It's getting colder
though she still continues to stand by the gates
She is getting older
and thus her memories must fade...

Angels gather to watch her in these final moments
and they bow their heads as a sign of respect
For even now, as the life leaves her body
Still she continues to wait...

-Chen Yuan Wen

About Honour"Ever worried about what the world thought of you?"

"Nope. I only worry about what I think of me."

"What do you think about you?"

"That I am a broken-eyed, converse-reject-wearing wise ass."

"Really? And what do you call yourself?"

"I call me proud."

"Oh."

"What do you call yourself?"

"I am the grade school version of the heartbroken girl, who can't play the guitar so she strums a ukulele instead, who can't paint so she draws terrible pictures in graphite that keeps giving way."

"I see you doing it again. Put the fucking pen down right now and stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Doing that."

"What? I was just writin-"

"You're cutting yoursel

LustHis hands have a habit of finding my hip bones,
trailing his river like fingers along my stone smooth skin,
his lips do not move, his mouth tells me stories.

Mine spend their time
tracing the length and breadth
of his back in kisses*

We travel through lands that never existed
before we touched them
At temperatures far exceeding in Fahrenheit

If only we could understand
how lust and geography
make such divinely sinful bedmates.

____________________
* One hundred and sixteen

Moving On"It all seems to be in order. Let me just read your last file."

"Thank you."

"It says here you used to have a girlfriend who was raped whilst you were with her?"

"Er…yes."

"Did she love you?"

"Yes. More than I could handle, I suppose."

"According to your file you told her she wasn't the one, and that her overfamiliarity with men led her to be in this situation?"

"Er…yes? But it's not like I told her she deserved to be raped, it was more-"

"Just yes or no answers would do. Did you do anything prior to this incident to make this girl feel loved?"

"Yes… I didn't cheat. I think that's enough for any relationship."

"It als

Mirror, Mirror"Mirror, Mirror"

When she looks in the mirror, what is it that she sees?

A reflection of exotic and exquisite beauty?

Do not be hard on yourself dear, images can deceive

You are more beautiful than a picture can perceive

Photographs don't do justice to those who judge

So quick to be critical are the minds that don't budge

Close-minded and ignorant are those proud of themselves

Alone they are on the inside like closets without shelves

The most lonely of the bunch are the ones with pretty faces

Who are never just satisfied with crushing hearts in various places

Their minds are destroyed as they become more and more blind

Confused an

love is hurtingThe beautiful days we held so close, I once said to 'hello' to you.
Our meeting was brief, and simple.
Caring, and kind.
We left with helpless hearts.
Neither regretting, nor forgetting.

Our meeting place, once helped me smile.
Overcoming each day.

I still wish for the past,
with crying into my hands, at last.
Letting lose the tears,
I know I shouldn't fear.
You tell me "You'll move on".

But the glass still digs into my skin, and prickles each time I see you.
Wandering like I'm not here.

I touch my lips, and hope for yours to return.
The tears keep streaming, never forgetting.

Lovely AnneI once met a girl named Anne
and what a lovely girl was she.
She sat in corners and talked
and talked when no one listened.

While lovely Anne was so lovely
no one went near lovely Anne
and her never-ending talking.

Lovely Anne with black hair
and dark skin. Never listened
to the voice of society.

Lovely Anne talked of a world
so unlike our own.
No one went near her,
but everyone listened
to the thoughts of a wonderful world.

Lovely Anne lived in a world
where the clocks struck thirteen
where everyone loved
where everyone smiled
and tears were never shed.

The walls and floors
objects and papers
that she talked to day

When Your Best is Not Good EnoughDon't speak.
Don't move.
Don't think.
Don't dream.
Don't hold yourself together.
Don't fall apart.
Don't pretend it is all going to be okay.
Don't act like it won't be all right.
Don't touch me.
Don't look away from me.
Don't be so needy.
Don't be so grateful.
Don't act silly.
Don't be so serious.
Don't have so much fun.
Don't be so sullen.
Don't cry.
Don't laugh.
Don't smile.
Don't frown.
Don't love anyone too much.
Don't be so selfish.
Don't ignore me.
Don't love me too much.
Don't breathe.
Don't exist....

And hope? Hope is just a lie you tell yourself so that tomorrow, you can do it all over again.

Let Me KnowIf you love me, let me know
I don't mean to beg
But please don't let me go

If you don't want me, tell me now
I'll be able to handle it
Even if I don't know how

If you don't want to see me, give it to me straight
I'll walk out of your life
But I'll never forget your face

If you want my friendship, don't be afraid to ask
I'm willing to move forward
The rest is in the past

Just let me know what it is you want
And I'll be happy to do so
To me your happiness means so much
I'm willing to let you go

Be My FortressMy tear streaked face
Held tight in your grasp
You gaze at me
With your all knowing eyes
I try to look away
To hide all this pain
Behind the familiar mask
Of a fake smile
But you hold me steady
Despite my shuddering body
From the numerous sobs
Escaping my lips
I am pulled into
Your warm embrace
Safe and sound
With your arms around me
Never let me go
I silently beg
Protect me from
This cruel world
Forever

Wrote 7/19/12

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Submitted: August 4, 2012
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Body Speak, Mouth Don't.

by *UntamedUnwanted, Aug 4, 2012, 2:23:42 PM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

"I need a favour. You got a minute?"

No. No I don't.
My heart feels ripped out of my chest and trampled on too often.
My ears open to screams in the morning.
My eyes close crying every night.
My mind always turns dreams into nightmares.
My lungs contract too soon for me to catch my breath.
My worries far outweigh my years.
My brain feels overworked, overwrought, so tired.
My stomach cramps every night and I curl up in pain.
My knees weaken often but I'm still standing.
My mouth goes dry and I can't speak.
My hands dampen because I have too much to think about.
My bones feel weaker than they ever have before.

But I don't think it's anything to be worried about, really.
So,
"Sure. How can I help you?"

Body Speak, Mouth Don't.by *UntamedUnwanted

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

Sometimes. People. Just. Make. Me. Want. To. SCREAM!

EDIT: For the people who are saying things like 'stand up for yourself' and 'not judging but you should be happy', it is very hard to be happy when you have to keep secrets like rape and miscarriage for fear of secondary victimisation. The people in my country are not nearly as understanding. Virginity has a high value and if you are not a virgin, even against your will, you are trash. My family actually told me to hide what happened to me and pretend it never happened. This poem is the scream for help I feel every time I have to swallow my own pain and pretend to be normal for someone else who is asking me for a favour.

[link] <- Facebook Page

love 8 8

joy 5 5

~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

sad 3 3

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~Nikki-ism Sep 18, 2012

~LordOfTheRingsFan Aug 27, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Unfortuately, a lot of people probably feel this way, including me... beautifully done.

~MintyMintamin Aug 23, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

normal, is a paradox

i'm sorry this ever happened to you,
people, can be, are, just cruel to each other. . .

. . .i wish to say more, but i dont know where i will venture off to. . .

~GOHIBI Aug 21, 2012

My dear heart, you do stand up for yourself. Every time you write. Every time you take a photo. Every other piece of atr you do, you are standing up and saying I am still here and I won't be stopped. I am grateful to know you even as I do here. I don't want to just have your back, I want you to feel I am beside you. I understand about saying yes even when everythng in you wants to say no. Again I read and weep. I have shared some of the things you have experienced. I would so hold you until your tears were dry if I could.

!debidebdebdeb Aug 14, 2012

Why can't you tell the person you are closest to? It will set you free. Really. It will. You have ruined the greatest thing that happened to either of us. You let the secrets(and the people who victimized you) continue to control you and torture you every day. You also now allow them to hurt me through you. Why?Why can't you tell me? Why don't you tell me? You don't trust me ? I have not earned your trust by now? I told you everything. But I am not worthy of the same. We never will have intimacy until you can tell me everything. And you won't. That's why I gave up. You are in pain because you have the ability to end it any time. All you have to do is make it so a secret is not a secret. Then it loses all the power it's held over you all these years. I can't beliee you gave me a speech on secrets an lies and how they ruin relationships. Well they do. You watch me every day. I don't have any secrets from you. But how many do you have from me? That's why we have nothing. And you hold the key to all of it. All the pain could go away.
I will love you and accept you no matter what. Don't you see that by now? (this is for my friend that told me to read this poem. I guess it really resonated with her.) Change something today please,my love. Do you care anything about how I feel? Can imagine what it is like to be me? Let go of the secrets. Free both of us. Please. How long will you let this go on? I love you, but hate you because you let secrets and lies destroy us, you, me. Its a choice you make, every day. I can't forgive you for doing this. For not sharing your deepest darkest sectrets. You tell me I am not your best friens, not your soulmate, and I don't meant as much to you as you claim. That hurts me so deeply.
I would take your secrets on my shoulders too. I will help you and support you. We could do it together. That is what people who love each other do. MU

~shehrozeameen Aug 11, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

So true. So very true indeed.

At least you speak up and are open to talk about it - this'll help those who've suffered from such a trauma.

Reminds me of Joyce and Hesse - not through the work itself but on a relative perspective. Joyce and Hesse were Jungian patients; the former because of his daughter (Jung analyzed him through his daughter and generally through casual interaction) while the latter was a direct patient of the psychologist. Their inner turmoil was in a way like this; Joyce was disillusioned with being something he was not, while Hesse (suffering from exile, humiliation, the death of his son, the mental deterioration of his father, the trauma of being disregarded by his fellow Germans) was more or less in a deadpool till Jung came in.

What both had in common was their constant support for everyone - though they were two entirely different giants in their own right (you of course would know that better than I would so I'll spare the details).

yeah... that's about it - body speak, mouth don't.

*UntamedUnwanted Aug 12, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Talking to you is always an education. I would actually like to have a conversation with you one day over the phone or gmail or something. It would be fascinating to talk to someone so knowledgable.

note me and let me know!!

~shehrozeameen Aug 12, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

*scratching the back of head* I'm not exactly the most knowledgeable person on the planet, I just say what I've read or learnt... but if your up for it... awesome

I'll send you a note sometime then, we'll have a conversation.

~dragonfuture Aug 10, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Wow, were you raped? I didn't know.

I really love this. It's so familiar...

*UntamedUnwanted Aug 12, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

I was actually raped twice. It's an awful, awful way to live. But I get a lot of theaputic writing done and it helps.

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