People often veiw verbal/emotional abuse as a "lesser" abuse, but this is NOT the case. Abuse is abuse and words can hurt and damage just as much as actions. This folder is for work relating specifically to this fact
Breakaway theme 6 by ashleyorerin, literature
Literature
Breakaway theme 6
I woke up for school happily looking around the room before picking up my best friend's fadora and slipped it on. He'd lent it to me for the night and I sighed smelling it inhaling his calming scent.
I went to my closet and pulled out a low cut blue shirt smiling. it flowed out hiding my fat stomach and I slipped it on looking in front of my mirror, smiling happily. I looked more grown up wearing this. "Slut." i heard from behind me and turned abruptly seeing my father.
"What?" I asked shocked and he smirked standing in front of me.
"You heard me."
"But no shirts fit under this one...they look awkward." I said stumbling
Breathe for me if you wish for your death;
The clock has stopped ticking for your baited breath.
The courtyard is emptied, there's no one but I,
So whisper your lusts now; I'm prepared to die.
Speak words laced in ebony, blue pearls all lain.
They'll wind us up tightly. We're laced up in pain.
Sing out your heartscars, I'm crying out mine.
We're falling and aching in pain's pleasure divine.
Don't scream at my tears; I'll keep my lip bit.
The blood mourns in secrecy for the blade that tore it.
I'll whisper sweet nothings and arch all in time,
Your pleasure's my meaning, your anguish now mine.
So give me your worries, I'm stained wh
I've got my feet on the ground
But you could fool me
I can't feel my head yet I know its spinning out of control
My heart is steadyily falling farther and farther
Because there's no one to hold it up anymore
My viens scream out the words my torn lips won't say
Why can't I say it anymore?!
My arms bleed out the lies that you told me as I lay bound
Don't be fooled, these tears I can't breathe through are just a front right?
Am I right? Because you've taught me this can't really be pain
It's all backward now, life's pendulum swaying has been severed
Am I still awake?
Theres no way I can cure this
Only bleed and breathe and suf
Theres nothing left but goodby by Speaking-to-see, literature
Literature
Theres nothing left but goodby
So many words that I said wrong and
Over and over I caused you pain
Reason can't began to amend for it
Right or wrong, all words are now vain
You didn't deserve it, but I used you for love
Tonight will be differnt, I'd convinced myself
Such arrogant words for someone so dangerous
Understanding that you couldn't save yourself
I broke you, I stole from you
Taking everything: I degraded you
Conceit made me believe you would be okay
And more than anything, I wished to believe it as true
No, I had ruined your heart and your fail body too
There was nothing that would remedy the shame
Words that were burningly forced from my lips,
Bunny language.
It sounds like an innocent phrase, something a child might use. A pair of cute words to describe something cuddly.
Not to me.
Even as I type these words, I can feel rage building in me. Why, you ask?
To me, the words 'bunny language' say something clear. They say 'Your words mean nothing. You're making things up.' They say 'Your opinion means nothing.'
It pisses me off.
It makes me want to scream, to destroy, to turn into a raging beast and massacre. I hate those words. They constantly remind me of what my father always said to me.
You are nothing. Your opinions are worthless.
It hurt
It hurt when you screamed
It burned when I cried
It stung when you stole part of my heart
It was hard to move on
I wished that it would be okay
I hoped that it would all go away
But it never did
You always came back
To hurt me
It never goes away
I wake from my dream, to sleep through life,
I have invisible scars caused by an invisible knife,
What I saw was my father, with a face I've never seen,
As well as prison bars, a place his never been,
Life is running backwards, next to see was his crime,
A man filled with anger; with a gun he took life, someone else's time,
The next image is my father walking out of a store,
Holding a personalised gun, the rules, the laws he did ignore,
Question start to appear, my fathers' motive is one such,
Life must have dealt his unworthy cards; he has changed so much,
The moment of realisation comes, the blood falls like water,
My father poin
Reasons and Routines by lackofevolution, literature
Literature
Reasons and Routines
Drugs is what I must end,
No more a need to hide, to defend,
Withdrawals become of the past,
Life is now manageable; the pace is no longer fast,
Detaching from my childhood, not gave but give,
Eyes on the prize, the future, parents I forgive,
Four months drug free, shocked at what I saw,
My reflection is deep, showing me raw,
My alcohol intake increases with time,
As well at the effort to write a rhyme,
Two more months pass drug free,
My mind becomes focused on the fee,
Drugs have disappeared, so to what I need,
Here I stand for all, please notice that I bleed,
Drugs is what I must end,
To be drug free is to pretend.