Thread: Triggering: Recent Work
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hocus pocus Offline
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Age: 26
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Recent Work - February 3rd 2014, 12:46 AM

This thread has been labeled as triggering by the original poster or by a Moderator. Please take this into consideration before continuing to read.

Sorry in advance, these poems suck. They're about as terrible as I feel but I just needed to get it out. Don't worry about reading these. Not my best work. May trigger, specifically abuse and SH as well as suicide.


Words for you, the perpetrator of the crime.
You will never be able to do enough time,
For actions with discretion in your possession.
Ruining innocence must be your profession.
Fragile children are amongst all of your prey,
You pounce every day and engage in atrocious “play”.
It’s all “fun and games” until someone gets hurt;
And is forced to depart from and divert.
You think you’re so slick, slithering around,
Quiet and slow as to not make a single sound.
The moment you smell the slightest of fear,
You make known and slither nearer.
You draw your new victims in with total lies.
Did you see the broken dam in my eyes?
Next, you make sure they’re surrounded and alone.
Why did you want my innocence to be disowned?
With your cold stare, you freeze them still;
Why did you force me against my own will?
You constrict and insert venom with your fangs,
Why did you leave all these questions to hang?
You’re a nasty, fast, slimy, slithering snake,
Who associating with is an enormous mistake.
It’s all, “fun and games” until your lies are seen through.
Your putrid power will no longer be misconstrued.
----------------------------------------------
I must been nastily notorious in another life,
To receive all this current unhappiness and strife.
I wonder what I did in previous lives,
To currently be barely able to survive.
My quality of life is completely shattered,
And is released in red stains of blood-splatter.
That scar into lines of pink and purple dead cells,
Something I know all too terribly well.
Words hit me like the iron of your fists,
They resignate and sting like the cuts on my wrist.
Words sound like nails to a chalkboard,
Like the screeching of two fighting swords.
The life-lines keep getting thinner and thinner,
It’s obvious that I won’t be a winner.
I’ll take the permanent solution instead.
I’ll die with blood-spattered sleeves stained red.


If clarity's in death, then why won't this die?
Years of tearing down our banners, you and I
Living for the thrill of hitting you where it hurts
Give me back my girlhood, it was mine first


The axe forgets, but the tree remembers