February.20.2000
Trisha M. Barrek Hopkins
Between the two of us
Is where our feelings remain
I don't know why he is making a fuss
My respect he will not gain
Not as long as the subject is about the skin
It's about the feelings between us two
No matter what way I look at it I cant win
I'd probably be disowned if he ever knew
But at this point I don't care
I cant ignore this feeling
We have this magic we share
It all has a meaning
So why cant he understand
Why cant he see past the color
It's that I don't want to be with no other man
Explain? Why do I bother
Forbidden love between two
Why can't he let things be
These feelings I wish he knew
The magic we hold I wish he could see
Between the two
We care for each other
I'll never feel the way you always do
No matter what he and I will always be together
But no he's stubborn to try
These feelings the two of us share
I'm so upset I can cry
About the skin I wish he wouldn't care
These feelings kept to myself
All building up I feel like I could die
I keep this book on the shelf
It's because I freely cant wear these feelings on my shirt
It's not fair
This negativity is making me hurt
The way I feel he doesn't care
The way I feel means nothing to him
He has nothing positive to say
To him this love he doesn't believes in
For God to change his mind I pray
Each and every night
I just want him to look into his heart
And hopefully look past the sight
Copyright*
Clocks slow to a crawl time creeps it's deceit
Some days lack ambition no spring in my seat
Pounding heart sure to cave won't endure it's fatigued
Need mighty endowment strength stability proceed
This pen hits the paper racing heart slowly calms
I believe in my words the sweat dries from my palms
Trembling hands quieten be sturdy as steel
I take a deep breath... Now to enjoy how I feel
Shane Aaron
Dec 7 2013
nowadays all she does is whine about her bodily pains,
but when you were left alone,
she stayed drunk, prowling the bars
days on end,
oblivious to the emotional wreckage left
on your chest, like a hot iron
melted through the tender heart of a 10 year old,
the open wound to the
skin,
cauterized shut
too soon,
without even leaving any open flesh
for the pain to be released,
seared closed with the shame, pain, and false pride of generations,
sealed in for years like a safety box of magnets,
pulling you towards anything and everything self-destructive
in a desperate search for some morsel of hope,
that the next christmas dinner might be more than
knocking on the doors of neighbors, being lucky enough to be
asked in to share a holiday meal,
and an attempt to be noticed for something other than the burden
you were to her deep and fervent longing for
the escape, into smoke filled rooms,
that reeked with the heavy, putrid smell of week-old frying grease,
cigarettes, and hairspray, that became one of your main
reasons for going to live with your dad--
other than the day she up and left for california,
a 50 dollar bill to substitute her mac and cheese, dribbled with
one and a half inches of ashes off a pall mall,
only to be less than reluctantly welcomed by him,
and a stepbrother who most always was
notably more worthy of better dirtbikes, nicer clothes
and a much more frequent pat on the back
for a job well done,
that most often wasn't.
a dollar for him and quarter for you, along with the bottom bunk,
that smelled like pee from all the years he wet the bed,
only ever good enough for sloppy seconds--
and then there was brownie,
poor broken down swayback, with skin infections,
baldspots and degenertive bone disease,
in light of your brother's black stallion stud,
as if the 6 inch scar on the back of your leg wasn't enough
from your father's drunken rage with a 4 inch hunting knife,
and the glass from the window that left it's souvenir the night he threw you
across the room, all before the age of 14.
shit.
i may have shot that horse between the eyes too.
11:37 PM 6/26/2013
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