I will not stop going forward
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What a lovely generation
Walls stained with innocent blood
On the second floor of 31st avenue
Of a woman who kept dinner in the oven a little bit too long
I’ve been told that stain has been scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed
Until the fragrance of bleach fills the apartment like a wild fire’s smoke
Yet, it will not come clean
What a lovely generation
Where words of hatred can only be silenced by a rope
And a four legged chair knocked under a boy’s feet
As he struggles against the fate that others decided for him
Because he was “queer”
Because the threads of his clothes were only slightly off center
And because he walked a little too lightly down the street
What a lovely generation
That allows her hair to grow too thin
Because each bite into that 10 calorie grapefruit is a bite too much
So she rushes and locks the door and her hands meet cold tile
She relases the insult, the agony, the pain, and the shame
Because no man wants a girl who likes dessert with her supper
What a lovely generation
***disclaimer***
This was one of the most difficult poems I have written, I had to go back to parts of myself I never wanted to see again, but I did. I’m kinda proud of this.
My shirts were neat, pressed, and clean
Yet the under camisole was unseen
Stained with dirt made obscene
Tell me, what does that mean?
The cosmo orders and perfume
Opened the locked door to my room
All for the vacancy of one womb
Barely developed, subject to doom
All for a moment between my thighs
Was it worth all the spreading lies?
As I prayed up toward the skies
Why won’t the Good Lord let me die?
Years I was strapped down in a chain
Because I had to stop and refrain
From accusing you, from calling your name
It’s a wonder that I didn’t go insane
And here I am, grown apart
While you lie with darkness in your heart
Because you couldn’t stop the things you start!
You couldn’t admit the objects in your cart
Here I am, washed and clean
No one thing on my body obscene
Not afraid for my past to be seen
Tell me, father what does this mean?
Leave Note / Reblog
personal meep rough short story continue it?
So apparently my dad and my grandma and my grandpa got into a huge fight, over who knows what, and apparently my dad hit my grandpa. This only re-enforces the fact that what happened to me really was real. I hate it. It’s terrifying. I’m terrified. And I’m angry. And I wanna go to bed.
The broken rosary whispers gently
Dear, son, what have you done?
Lying and abusing and wishing
For your flesh and blood
The church bells ring out
Will they ever cease?
Or did they simply start
When your hand carressed her cheek
Flipping pages of morals
What page is your name written on?
Before the gates of eternity?
Or in the beauty of a pslam
Trembling, she took a step towards him. She hadn’t seen him in a year, and he looked..different. His body was worn down and his eyes were darker. He was still the same love struck boy she knew, somewhere in his depths, his childhood like smile was buried. However, it wouldn’t appear to her now, and she knew that. “You hurt me…” He saw the words leave her sweet velvet lips that he used to knew so well. However, those words were said with no “sweet” intention in them. She meant to hurt him, and he knew that. He deserved so much more hurt than her fragile heart could put him through. He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t think, his eyes were glued to her face. “I know.” She wanted to trace the contours of his chiseled features. The dip of his mouth, his broad shoulders, she had never wanted anything more than she did at that moment. She had to be strong, she couldn’t break down, she couldn’t! She wouldn’t let it happen, people get hurt, men hurt people, men are terrible. She reminded herself over and over…and She cried. He couldn’t stand it, those tears, those sweet longing eyes he loved so much were becoming the most detested thing he could imagine. They called to him. Begged for him to curl her into the grip of his arm, press her face against his chest, somehow comfort her with the beat of his own heart. But he couldn’t….Not today. Not anymore. It wasn’t his job. She had other men in her life to wipe away those tears…other men… He grew more and more angry. He had no right to be angry, and he knew that. She wasn’t his anymore..but he just couldn’t handle it. Another man kissing her until he watched the warm pink crawl up her neck and be reflected back to him in her fragile skin. Another man feeling the warmth of her body against his, embracing, dancing, the thought of it killed him. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. “I didn’t eat.” She spoke softly, disgraced by the fact that she let him affect her that much. She was defensive, and credited herself for her strength. It was the only part of her she could count on. The wall that she could build, they were almost indestructible. She let him in. It made her sick. She hasn’t been eating? But why? She looks fantastic..she’s beautiful. What have I done? Oh god…I’m a monster..What have I done to her…I can’t..I can’t… I grabbed her. He grabbed me. “What are you-“ was all she could get out before his lips met hers. Everything rushed back to both of them. She melted into his arms and he hungered for her. She couldn’t stop herself, and neither could he. It was a terrifying, passionate, confusing, most loving moment either of them had ever expierenced. And in that moment. It was over.
Stunning, isn’t it dear?
The all of a sudden lack of fear
Only wanting two hearts so near
Body to body; port to pier
Oh, love of mine!
So sudden this time…
Fingers through my hair;
Making my curls unwind
Passionate gaze
Windows fogged in a haze
Darling; remind me of your ways
Help me forget my yesterdays
Gently now..love me right
Take it slow, hold me tight
Lay me down in the dark of the night
Till we awake till morning light
