Message To Survivors;

Wed, 02/07/2018 - 19:16 -- jkposz

I'm tired of being censored.

 

 

 

I know all my loved ones are so concerned,

 

 

 

But haven't you all learned?

 

 

 

I need normalcy- I yearn for it.

 

 

 

My trauma drama is getting real old,

 

 

 

And I have been told,

 

 

 

That I'm getting too old to be scared of;

 

 

 

Showers,

 

 

 

Certain hours,

 

 

 

Monsters dark powers.

 

 

 

I turn my trauma into a beautiful garden of flowers.

 

 

 

Notice this,

 

 

 

All this pain,

 

 

 

Took so long to tame,

 

 

 

To match all the names to the dark games that I got bored of-

 

 

 

Because being used gets really fucking lame.

 

 

 

So I ask you; don't turn off that song because it took me so long to actually get those memories to be gone.

 

 

 

I'm twenty-one and woman enough,

 

 

 

Tough enough to make it through this rough,

 

 

 

To speak up for myself.

 

 

 

This shit you don't understand,

 

 

 

And to be honest, I don't know if anyone can.

 

 

 

That includes me.

 

 

 

The dark faces I used to see are no longer aloud to swim my sea.

 

 

 

Dear Monsters,

 

 

 

Though I'm going to be a doctor,

 

 

 

Don't expect me to fix you,

 

 

 

Because you all tossed me in a stew.

 

 

 

And I fucking flew.

 

 

 

Now I'm losing the memories of you.

 

 

 

I hope it makes you shake that I no longer wake,

 

 

 

In the middle of the night screaming your name.

 

 

 

You play games.

 

 

 

Have you ever met anyone who has beat your boss level?

 

 

 

I didn't feel as though I deserved to settle.

 

 

 

I can't tell anyone of you apart.

 

 

 

I hope you fiend for my touch,

 

 

 

Because I know it's such a rush.

 

 

 

But now I crush you.

 

 

 

In my beautiful words,

 

 

 

Worlds.

 

 

 

All created by my right hand,

 

 

 

In a new written out land,

 

 

 

Where no hands have ever stricken me.

 

 

 

You said you liked me.

 

 

 

Mother fucker you were thirsty for innocence,

 

 

 

You make Pennywise not want to throw in his two cents.

 

 

 

Don't take it personally when I don't pick up my phone,

 

 

 

Because it comes down to me not giving a fuck- really.

 

 

 

My current role just feels so right,

 

 

 

The connections I have made without you are so tight.

 

 

 

I am light.

 

 

 

No here's the "damaged",

 

 

 

"broken-hearted-"

 

 

 

SURVIVORS.

 

 

 

We are the revolution who can come up with a solution to make sure,

 

 

 

No more monsters drown innocent children in their poison ocean.

 

 

 

You just have to shine,

 

 

 

Get back to what makes you prime.

 

 

 

This takes patience and time.

 

 

 

And most important of all- your mind.

 

 

 

I used to wake up every night in terror from the nights I used to be trapped in a demon's lair.

 

 

 

Pulling at my hair,

 

 

 

Wishing he would take all of my air----

 

 

 

I looked at his eyes, multiple times,

 

 

 

"HAHAHA, I'm not scared".

 

 

 

 

 

Breathe.

 

 

 

SCREAM.

 

 

 

Find yourself then go get a supportive team to lean,

 

 

 

Instead of turning to white powder that gives you twenty minutes of temporary power.

 

 

 

 

 

Don't spend time regretting all of those lost hours.

 

 

 

You'll never come out of that ivory tower.

 

 

 

 

 

Listen;

 

 

 

This isn't the answer to this,

 

 

 

But I believe that my words are as powerful as Athena's kiss.

 

 

 

Here are some tips;

 

 

 

When you feel your PTSD seams start to rip,

 

 

 

Don't chase a drip,

 

 

 

Find yourself a mental whip and put that itch back to bed.

 

 

 

My abuse comes with a bottle of booze,

 

 

 

All because some idiot thought he could choose me,

 

 

 

Use me,

 

 

 

And chew me.

 

 

 

Watch why I fly so.

 

 

 

Free.

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741