REAL STORIES
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Wednesday, October 18, 2017

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You ask for pain

real pain

you want me to open my wounds

and show you my scars

but that would be rewinding

to the very start

19 almost 20 years ago

when my mom pushed me out

thats when my roller coaster life began

but can you handle

the twists and turns

all the broken bones

every shout

each tear

everything I went through

year after year

how things got so bad

and how people turned out

all the bruises

the touching

a penny for one of my thoughts?

you'd... Read More

I open my mouth

words come falling out

but only the walls hear them

my minds on automatic now

thoughts like trains

colliding into each others lanes

boiling blood

eager to melt my veins

ready to stain my sink

with velvet water

a substitute for my tears

I refuse to cry

always have

instead I cut designs

on my lower arm

cutting is one of my drugs

I am addicted

I feel relieved

but only for a moment

I feel safe

but from what?

Surely not myself

... Read More

Shouting in alien tonguesabstract wordsand perplexities of sorts,they arrived on shorelike summertime antsassaulting the calm of kitchen floors.Oh recognize us –citizens of ignorant acts,as the saviorsand prophets who shall bring peace upon your heads.Oh recognize us –and fear not words that befuddlenor hands of jagged wreaths,that graze upon the ample bosombelonging to your wives and offspring.In postcards,we shall brag of your beautyas obvious as our heavenly given rights.We shall sip of your coffeesweeten our tongues and flush you of your foreign words.Fear not the fine print floating in... Read More

I read the words that I have scribbled down quickly over the years--notes that I have made for myself so that I will remember a revelation discovered or a thought that may be imperative at some point. As if there will be a final duel with some unseen enemy where I will need notes in order for combat.

As I read I begin to realize that the only unseen enemy has always been and always will be myself.

I predicted the rise and fall of my sanity as if it was a game, and dug the hole of depression further with my careless behavior and bad attitude. All along the way documenting every... Read More

It was my project on display. I won the award. Everybody saw it. A great future awaits you, the teacher said. Her words still echo in my mind. The future was mine, so it was hard to believe that at the final test when the bell rang I was still sitting in front of a blank sheet There was no second chance. I can still remember the big match. I was standing in front of the empty goal. Everybody cheered, and I missed. I never played again. Yet, at work I was given a chance. But when I turned the switch on It went dark. My settings were wrong. It was an expensive mistake. So after so many years... Read More

Did Jesus own his t-shirtwas of a consequencethat lead for heads to roll offand hell to live on earth.It was no minor question,unlike the one aboutthe angels pushing needlesto those who couldn’t count.Oh, such crucial questions,for which so many soulswere massacred for answersin search of higher goals.And yet today nobodycares or thinks aboutthose most important questionsman couldn’t live without.But even now we’re holdinga very strong beliefthat we possess some knowledgewithout which we can’t live.Oh, such crucial matters,Essential, higher goalshas lead us, like our fathersto sacrifice more... Read More

Unable to disobey the tyranny of the alarm clock, she wakes up. She unreasonably believes that her long working hours will be noticed. Naïve she is, and doesn’t realize that the promotion has already been given to another. Devotion had nothing to do with it.

It’s dark outside, and miserably cold. She runs to catch the train. In the station, she buys her usual cup of coffee. It’s lukewarm and tasteless. She tries to follow her latest self-improvement advice: it’s all in your mind. She tries to imagine the drink to be somewhat like a real coffee: hot, aromatic, full of flavour. It still... Read More

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Recent Comments

Musings Of A Poet

Agree Barb, throwing the baby out with the bath water 'aint the answer. Take care. :>)

Musings Of A Poet

I know Rigina, when it takes a week for legite comments to appear it is upsetting, and it is killing the site slowly. Surely there must be a better way to address the spammers and floggers. Also taking away ratings if you do not post in a period of...

Musings Of A Poet

ed i was one of the original complainers about people using this site to flog their stuff. Now legite comments don't show?


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