it hard, but it can be done. to be yourself, in a world that is doing everything it can, day in and day out to bring you down, is the hardest thing a person can do. don't stop fighting. thanks for the comment and the like
thanks jp! i've had both, still carry the effects of the physical abuse, but the verbal crap was worse. when i close my eyes, i hear a cacophony of all their voices saying those words over and over.
thanks Mac. do i believe the words, i deserve to die? no, but i'm fast approaching the idea i no longer need to live. not there yet. thanks for the like
1.
Pain.
Lingering pain from tormentors long gone.
Torment only the mind remembers.
Wounds long healed on the body.
Will the mind ever forget?
Lingering pain from tormentors long gone.
Pain.
2.
Words spoken.
You should never have been born.
You aren’t good enough.
Words spoken.
Why do you always fuck it up.
I should kill you, you don’t deserve to live.
Words spoken.
Like a tape recorder turned on.
Over time, words spoken drown everything else.
wow. wasn't sure what i was expecting after listening to your moans and frustrations. i knew it would be good, but you upped your game! some of the most real characters to date. i've been in that little room, listening to the doctors, alone and discussing about life support for my mother. (and you knew i felt about her). waiting patiently. Not! for chapter 2
edited to add: decide to put on life support. she survived healed, even, to give me 10 more years of hell.
tim, i think you put your finger on it. they do it with glee. its their fun. its what they live for. the more they hurt, with words mostly, cause they are too chicken sh*t to face anyone. we think it's a waste because we don't think like that. they hide in the dark and behind a screen.
in the 1st poem, you may feel "just a waste of space", but you aren't. you are loved, by so many. that whispyness touches, changes so many lives. you are substantial, even if you can't see it. the second just pisses me off. not that you wrote it, but that it happened--again
sometimes those "twinges", grab you by the back of the neck and slam you head down into the table. those who started the twinges, rarely think of them again
The world is plunged into darkness.
The day is long gone.
The dawn is a distant future memory.
The silence of the dark brings delight or terror.
Darkness is a tool to use.
Use it to center your heart and quiet your soul.
Let your eyes refuse to see the shadows that dwell there.
Arise when the morning light shines on your face
and fight the dark prison that fells you.
ohh i'm so glad i started this story after a couple of chapters had posted(now i don't have wait ) the other story was really good and this is starting out the same way!