[x]

That wicked smileI sit here watching the world pass me by,
As I contemplate, leaving this world behind.
Please I don't want to hear another word,
All you'll do is lie.
"Don't tell anyone or you'll get daddy in trouble and you don't want that do you?"
I nodded meekly, and then played my part.
Those words he said will always and forever haunt my mind.
When I die,
I wonder if they'll say I didn't try
Or maybe they'll all just cry.
I don't want them to cry,
I want a little part of them to die too.
Does that sound really narcissistic?
Does that sound really pessimistic?
Doesn't really matter,
Not after so long.
Those bruises have come a

DyslexiaI can hear the crickets talking yesterday
delicate obscenities just after dusk
when I'm imagining you drowning and
thinking of how lovely and patriotic you look
from underwater.

I'll tattoo a poem on the flesh of your left thigh
going 'round and 'round and 'round
ending on your hip and born from your knee,
there's a page-turning climax somewhere in between
and I'll read it to you on these foggy mornings
knowing as I do the stories are silently calling
for the next in the waiting line.

And on these waterlogged mornings I miss your dyslexic sexuality
remember The City and the bay, when all your delicates
were damp in the fog and

MedicatedLighting
Its such a lovely thing,
But casts a frightening light across the room,
Letting you see my shadow cast face.
I sit here, legs pulled up to my chest
Head on my knees.
Your talking again,
Trying to get through to me.
Get me to open up,
About what has happened,
About how it has effected me.
I had lost track of time,
Just stared out the window.
The winds blowing,
And there have been at least five lightning strikes
Since you've started talking to me.
The leather chair
Creaks under you as you shift in your seat.
Am I the reason
Your winkles have gone so deep?
Its only been an hour,
With this silence from me.
I hear

Price I payAll I see is darkness
Even the shadows wont dance for me this time.
I wish I could lock these doors
But who would put locks on closet doors?
It would be such a silly thing to do…
Right?
I can hear his steps and he's yelling again
What did I do this time?
I have not left my room,
But what excuse does he need
To beat me till I bleed.
He is my step-father,
A man who can not read.
My bedroom door opens,
I know because I hear the bells.
I put them their a month ago,
No more surprise wake ups,
To fists and pain.
The closet door slides open,
A thin beam of light across my face.
I close my eyes and pray to god,
A god I no l

berceuseher lullaby love cries out across
mountains she's built across the mean
singing songs of somewhere from
and where she's made her place a home

autumn leaves fell in threes
and laid to rest inside her head

butterfly love flies out across
maps with lines and traps and exes
a charted course with nowhere's pen
that ends with home, only alone

Courting AmazonsI've been told my Amazonian pursuits are folly
and that sunbears cannot lead me along
the trails of reverse dimorphism
even when leashed.

but in my Don Quixote name
I embarked for honey beasts
and in heroically Greek fashion
I wrestled bears until I found
just the right shade of grey in the eye

skinned a python for a leash
and (heroically) swam the Egyptian Nile
which you know is intricated with the
brown Brazilian curves of the Amazon,

for a kingly river deserves only a queenly river;
so lightly I stepped from the lips of Egypt to the mouth
of sensual Brazil.

After lauding my exploits and
singing of beasts a song I'd be

thats life- thats life -

i broke down
they all laughed
but thats life

i cried myself dry
no one wiped my tears
but thats life

i got home
i hurt in an empty house
but thats life

i tried to pray
just one last time
i know no one heard me
but i dream someone
somewhere
somehow
can hear my plea
but thats life

unfair and painful
but at least
im free to dream
that itll all get better

thats life

- zoebrynn* -

The One From NoneTime was running so fast,
like dawn turns dusk by a blink of eyes

Do you remember that day?
When you offered me your hand
for the first time
I welcomed them with joy and honor
and the first chapter had begun

There had never been my laugh,
without yours
nor my tears,
without your warm hug comforting me
There was no such a perfect thing,
yet we could create it
for the perfect shadow of two was better than one

The time had come,
when we should let our hands go
for there would be another hand
waiting for us
under the majestic clang of bell
It was the time to move on,
for a new story to be written
on the next sweet chapter

Bound to youIf you are cut my own blood runs
and when you fall my knees are bruised.
Each breath you take fills me with life,
I feel your joys and sorrows too.

Your smile warms my distant thoughts
and brings a new light to my eye.
I'm bound to you so perfectly,
for if you end I know I'll die.

If you should stumble in your steps
the ground beneath my feet would shake.
The rhythms of my own heart beat
with each decision that you take.

There's comfort in how close we are
and knowing that beneath these stars
I'm bound to you so perfectly:
for I'm in you, and you're in me.

NightmaresOh…
There you are.

I didn't see you through all this smoke at first
Is it smoke or just dust?
I can't really tell.

It's so dry here.

And loud

I didn't notice that until now
There's shouting
And sharp, piercing cracks

Your back's pressed against a wall
The building it belongs to is gutted and empty
There are pockmarks in that wall
They spiral crazily just above your head

Is that a rifle?
You check the magazine,
Ram it home again
Guess it must be

I never really thought those hands would ever hold a gun
It's kind of jarring to see.

Look around the wall at the same time
There are more people with guns
They want to hurt

dawna slave girl ascends the steps
with posture straight
as she enters alone-

slowly beats a drum
resonant and low,
mantra chants thrum,

brass bells on red cords blow
before sunrise on a breeze

as she lowers with fluid grace
to rest upon her knees-

with serene upturned face
she offers
incense and cultured flowers,

'neath bowers; ancient sentinels
of memories more ancient
hold the echoes from years

of a thousand fold, of a
million tears, that stand mute

in shadow as the girl bows low
mouthing new prayers...

temple monks pass in procession
in robes of orange
of the faithful

while a drum beats slow
for the dawn of the new

Flighther plumage shimmers,
snaring the lights; a feathery prism
on poised head with level jaw

knees lifting so high;
legs extended with each certain stride
arcing round the stage

floor boards resounding
from high-stepping boots
swiftly placed

he pivots,
always in sync with her arc—

the heat of his pride; a strength,
carried to her
through taut leather,

a steady hand on the reins
is a guide towards the perfect course,
as is the curve of her thigh

long hair of silk in the wind
of motion, flutters and streams
off of white shoulders--

astonished silence from the crowd's
single breath, their gaze follows
its transformation

t

Autumn Renaissancesilence--
as loud as a bee
to a sunflower

          >::<

orange crest glowing;
the stench of fire
heralding in the season

          >::<

before the deluge;
dust devils dancing
in the twilight of their lives

          >::<

morning fog condensing--
beads of cold sweat
on parched leaves

          >::<

leaves fainting from their hosts
perish on the way down...
their purpose ended?

Once Upon My DecemberOne night a December ago
I found my eyelids had fallen closed
And my feet carried with pointed toes
A dance, a waltz I swear I will always know.

A peaceful sleep found only in a dream
That had hidden away from me until I could see
Something that would remain forever dear to me
Something outside this single requiem I sing.

A new song I had found through this other point of view
And a smile and a wave as you caught me smiling into
The distance and the outside though it was empty
I saw them all carry their feet with pointed toes and no tragedy.

It was only my dream a December ago

That showed me a light in this Confusion outside my e

renaissance ii

i'm staring at the way
the dust is moving
in the sunlight

and this familiar sensation
doesn't make the world
any less hazy.

i'm slowly trying to
wean myself off of
thoughts
(of you, of you, of
course)
and i can't wonder if
it's working because then

it won't be.

the air is
holding its breath, and
something is wrong;
so wrong that
i can taste its vapid,
empty presence.

behind me are
the doors, faded, to a place
that can't exist anymore

(you burned the bridges while
i was asleep.)

i never built you up
to be some glorified
demigod that you never
truly were;

no, i
knew your flaws too (well)
and i loved them
the way

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Submitted: September 16, 2010
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[x]

Story in short

by ~BeyondMyTouch89, Sep 16, 2010, 4:37:38 PM
Literature / Poetry / Narrative / Free Verse

I am a daughter
  To a father who is a pedophile and a mother who didn't protect me
I am a sister
  To six siblings, five sisters and one brother
I am a mother
   To my little boy, who is my reason to keep on living
I come from physical abuse
   Years by the hands of a step father who hated me, and a mother who just  watched from the distance
I come from mental and emotional abuse
   Loved one second, hated another, and told over and over again how bad, worthless, and unneeded I am
I come from sexual abuse
   Scary nights learning things I shouldn't of learned so young , no one believing me till the FBI came
I locked away the pain
   And started cutting
I stopped smiling
   And learned to fake my way though life
I am not my father, I am not my mother
   But my biggest fear is that deep down I am
I wished for death and attempted so many times
  The grim reaper must really hate me
I am not religious
   God has forsaken me years ago
I have watched my own blood flow
  And sometimes that self inflicted pain is what got me though my day
I don't know what true love is
   But I can pretend
I have Post Traumatic stress and chronic depression
   Fun huh?
I try my best to do what's right for my son
   But sometimes I wonder if I am what's right for him
I self mutilate, I get depressed, I get emotional, I get suicidal
  If I medicate all I can do is sleep, so I stress trying to do it on my own
I know next time I drive down the highway I'll think
  If only my son wasn't with me….I'd close my eyes and say my last goodbyes

Story in shortby ~BeyondMyTouch89

Literature / Poetry / Narrative / Free Verse

my story in short, yes i have PTSD and Chronic Depression along with a few borderline things but those might not count for much.

The past is the past for a reason, but sometimes the past is what haunts us most.

~~mad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~LostKudzu Mar 23, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

This is a sadly beautiful poem.
But never, ever think that God has forsaken you.
God hears the prayers of those who need him.
Just know that he is there, and that you have a child who loves you. This is true love. It's not really anything you can look for. I hope you are able to move past your depression.

~TheWhiteJewel Nov 28, 2012

I appreciate you being strong for your son and wish you both the best.

~jackel1234 Aug 21, 2011 Student General Artist

I cried at this. It's so emotional and so well written that it just gets to me.

~BeyondMyTouch89 Oct 17, 2011

Thanks

!rainbow-stalker Aug 20, 2011

you are an amazing, strong person to have come through all of this, and you aren't your mother or father because after all of this you still put your son first, and that it what true love is. you are an inspiration because you've had all that hardship and neglect and still have it in you to love another human being so much that you keep living for them. i hope you find a way of being happy, because you deserve it more than anyone. <3

~Lliya May 11, 2011

I like it. Of course the style seems to be a halfway mark between a story and a poem considering the line lengths and I believe that takes away a little something. It's nice though. You could try and make it into a true poem, one that rhymes, but I suppose that would take away the realism and making it into a story would take away some of the power and probably induce disturbing images. I have no idea why you posted this, but I like it all the same.

~Kismet-Infrared Apr 17, 2011

I'm sorry.

~BeyondMyTouch89 Apr 20, 2011

thanks, but you didnt do it.

~Kismet-Infrared Apr 21, 2011

But I wasn't there to protect you.

That's why I'm sorry.

~BeyondMyTouch89 Apr 22, 2011

oh i see

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