Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Poets write poems
They think and think
Pickup their pens, it’s over
I' sure this is not haiku, at least it's short and to the point. We poets are a funny bunch.
Dark
Night
Stars
Eyes
Love
5 words can say a lot.
I can hear it
In the back of my mind
The screaming for help
And no not just a scream of fear
It's a scream of ultimate terror
The worry if you'll wake up or not
It's a worry if you'll even have enough food do eat for the week
It's a survival game
And the ones who make it out alive
Have to deal with the aftermath
The constant breakdowns
The flashbacks
The panic
And the paranoid feelings
Always wondering why this had to happen
Feeling like nobody cares
And depression
So the ones who make it out of abuse alive
Now have to make it out of depression alive
The ones who made it out
Deal with even more than they should've

And then you get to thinking
What about the children with normal lives
Whose parents are still together
Who always have a meal in front of them
And have a roof over their heads

Why does abuse have to happen?
And then people say abuse made you stronger
When actually you made yourself strong.
This is a little bit of my thoughts toward abuse.
Every scar of my past
Left terror for my future
Oh how I wish I could go back
So the beating would have killed me
I'd never have to deal with flashbacks
I'd never have to listen to the screaming of the past
I'd only listen to the void of darkness
We are wolds apart
Yet we are so close
...
Somehow life went on without you...
Next page