Silence

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Silence
I can not tell you how some of the things you wrote in your poems is exactly like I have felt many times..
Great job...
 
Originally posted by michael Joseph:
You Bastard

Hope you understand where my poem is coming from. Thank you.
Click to expand...

I started to read your poem, but I had to stop. I'm not ready to deal with the intensity of the anger I feel, but you did a great job of expressing it (as far as I managed to get). I hope I can get there too.

J
 
Anger comes and goes. You will get there.
Thanks for your comments. We need to stick together, and we are all OK inside.
 
Reading these poems at the Mike Lew weekend was amazing, I really feel like I got some of my voice back. I am so glad I went to the weekend. I thank everyone who was there.
 
here is one i cant remember,,,,

DARE ME NOT TO TOUCH YOU CLOSELY,
FOR THE PAIN WE BOTH SHALL BEAR,
I BURY MY HEART INSIDE A STONE,
TO AVOID THE WEIGHT OF THE WORDS "I CARE",
I SEE YOUR EYES SOFTLY SEEING MINE,
I FEEL THE TINGLE OF YOUR TOUCH,
BUT STAND YOUR DISTANCE!
DONT HUG ME NOW!
FOR I MIGHT LIKE IT MUCH TO MUCH,
AND IF I LET MY WALLS BREAK DOWN,
WHO THEN WOULD I BE?
HOW THEN COULD I DEFINE MYSELF,
AS PART OF YOU OR ALL OF ME?
//////////////////////////////
 
That was nice thunderboldt. Thanks for sharing that here.

Poems are a great way to grow and learn about
myself.
 
The Act, Betrayed

Running,
lights flash, movement
swaying in the darkness, my temple crashes
Skin is torn, blood flows, searing through, heat, burning
what a poor player, a single note
my life ends

He killed me with that single act, destroyed my life, yet seemed never satisfied.
 
Thank You Michael for the words from your heart and soul. It has inspired and given me strength to post one of my "just wrote it down as it came" poems. I had been ashamed to post it but I am tired of shame!!!

We.

Within me there are two,
We fight
We frolic as one rarely.
Mostly one of me hurts the other
Most times one has ruled the other,
To our distress.
We talk to each other,
But to no avail.
We are running now as we are opened up.
Exposed.

Will we ever be me?
SomedayI can only pray

Mike
 
After reading what ive written, I should Warn you of this post.

Feelings to the left of me,
thoughts to my right,
a confusing, twisted mess before me
I walk without a light.

Somber fields lay behind me,
where my feet once tread
I can not stand to look at me,
I much rather be dead

I hate this life. Life = pain, fear, loneliness, fustration, disappointment.
This is a endless cycle. I don't want to go where I'm headed. I can't stand the thought of having more to deal with. More of the same. I want to be free of this agony. My job is falling apart. My life seems a hopeless mess of endless failings and shortcomings. I'll never be rid of his words, his soothsaying, his "telling u how it is". He said I was "nothing", I try to disbelieve, overcome it all. But no, he's right, though he's made this mess, I can't seem to clean it up. Why the Im I writing this at all. A final scream perhaphs? This is so damn sickning. Damn his fucked-up twisted piece of shit soul to hell. I don't even believe in Hell, but if there is.....I'm so tired of this Shit! I can't get the fucking message out of me, the message he drove into me with his Dick and his endless stream of searing words. Over and over and over. He beat me into submition with his belt, and...Oh God....his hands! What terror. He should have protected me, instead he used me like a tissue. Pick me up fuck me and make me say "Tank you Daddy". Hell, damn, shit, NO, Stop it, pain! DAMN, DAMN, DAMN, DAMN< HIM< I CANT STAND THIS FUCKING TORTURE!!!!!!!!!. ...................
There's not enough beer on this whole fucked up world to drown my rage. No word can explain the pain, the humiliation, the terror, the Feeling. I have such hate, so much hate. And that lowest scum shit got away with it. He's dead. He cheated me out of my vengence. No consequences for him. I can talk this shit for the next 100 years. There's no peace. Just endless self hating for all I should accomplish and don't, guilt for allowing myself any pleasure-for not allways fighting back-for not killing myself then, sorrow for all I've missed in this shit-box life, saddness for such a grim future. Must I (or anyone) suffer so? Death is still an option, one I comtemplate still, but I may be the coward he told me I was. I dont really see why else I continue to exist in this living damnation. One agonizing day after the next, How overjoyed he'd be, to see me now. He got an extra high when I cried. I remember him laughing while I cry and screamed. I'd love to see him to, so I could kill him.
There, one tenth of whats on my mind.
 
I just reread this post, I encourage others to share their writings, and thank those who have shared here. It has helped me remember I am not the only one.
 
Sickness
vomit spewing
out of my mouth
it hurts
get it out
I want it out
help me get this wickness
out of my body
Hold me for a long time
when its done.
 
wickness=wickedness
sorry about my spelling error
 
shattered
lost
broken

memories lost
visions remembered
hurting heart

surviving somehow
alone in the dark
scared to go into the light

hopefully less scared and alone
 
How do I Just live my life?
Feel what I am feeling?
Be me?

There is more to me than the abuse.
There is hope for tomorrow and today.
There is being who I am, me.

It is ok to feel the way I feel.
To live the way I want to.
And to say what I need to say.
 
Michael Joseph . . Thanks for sharing your poetry. I can see how growth come out of this. Keep on opening what you have inside and sharing. Its great.
 
Thankyou Ken and welcome to NOMSV again.
see you on the chat soon.
 
Thankyou Ken and welcome to NOMSV again.
see you on the chat soon.
 
One thing that I do is try to be perfict to make up for the abuse. My mother would correct me on things or point out what I did wrong. Call me chubby, not thinking it would hurt me, when it was her own weight issues that were at hand. She has a great deal of problems.

Then there is having my dad die when I was 12. Not to mention all the abuse.

How did I reach 39, it is awonder. I am glad foor what I have now. The road has been very shakey and bumppy. I know I have paid my dues, I am done being a victim.

Not only a survivor I am a thriver. I will succeed. It is in me to go forward no matter what. Fuck those bastards that abused me they will get their own in the end.

I will stand tall, just as you all should too!!!

Stand up with me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Michael Joseph
 
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