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Literature Text
"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?"
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?"
Literature
Delusion
Delusion:
You've covered yourself with blankets
Like you're hiding from the bogey man.
You're so enraptured with your own ego
That you reject the helping hand!
You twisted what was a friendly gesture
And called it your very right.
Now it's time for you to fade away
Into the bitter cold of night.
I'm about to show you reality
So stay tuned and watch me work.
I'll paint you a vivid picture
That'll give your heart a jerk...
See you thought you should be top side;
Basking in the morning glory
But you're sitting in a filthy sewer
This is your fucking story.
When first you stepped upon the crowds;
Like a sea of angry sharks
They
Literature
Her Cold Lips
Her Cold Lips:
She watches me, as I bid my friends goodbye
Her cold hands creep along my shoulders
they tell me that she is there
and that she will never let me go...
We're in my room now, away from the outside
I know that she doesn't like the sun
Often, she prefers to observe me from the shadows
but I think she doesn't like the others coming close...
We're beneath the covers now, panting softly
her cold body pressed against mine
Her lips are completely devoid of warmth
and yet they taste so rousingly sweet
A haunting, a haunter and the haunted
Two of us now entwined beneath the ruffled sheets
We cross a barrier that should not
Literature
Is It Wrong?
Is it wrong
That I glance up at the clouds,
Feeling the wind through my hair,
And dream of a mystifying land
Where one can be accepted no matter what?
Is it wrong
That I choose to wear jeans down past my heels,
Baggy and ripped at the knees,
Unlike all the other boys that wear athletic
Shorts, so unscathed and clean?
Is it wrong
That I ask people about their troubles,
Sometimes doing all in my mortal power
To help them surpass the simple,
Even ones I have not defeated myself?
Is it wrong
That while the few friends I have
Dance around giddily and go to
The most extreme only to impress,
But I only hang back in silent content
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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
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
Comments247
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I can relate to this poem and also partially to what it says in artists comments as I too have suffered abuse. I'm sorry that it should happen to you I'm terribly sorry that your family feels this way about the subject too.
That said, your writing is beautiful
That said, your writing is beautiful