Poetry competition CLOSED 28th June 2016 2:02pm
WINNER
_shadoe_ (yiyi)
_shadoe_ (yiyi)
RUNNER-UP:
Jade-Pandora
Survivors of touch...
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
ONE, (TWO), THREE, FOUR, FIVE
It's racking up now but I'm still keeping track,
The violations are numbered and there's no going back.
Each time particular, each rape has its twist,
Some worse than others on the ill-fated list.
With each passing tale I tell, I hope that I will find,
Some kind of solace from the numbness inside.
You see I have no feelings, no anger to hide,
My blood never boiled nor have I yet cried.
I hope this poem will spark some feeling in me,
Lets start with the first one, I guess we'll soon see.
ONE
The snippets and flashes are vivid through haze,
I was nineteen years old when I caught ONE's cold gaze.
ONE had a friend, I guess he's called TWO,
Not sure which of them did it, I haven't a clue.
Left in a bar by my irresponsible friend,
One drink, one spike which led to the end.
Blood on the sofa, seen as I scrambled out,
The pain unmistakeable, there couldn't be doubt.
THREE
This one was different, I knew and trusted THREE,
THREE was my boyfriend, I thought he cared for me.
But when the pleas are ignored, saying stop becomes thrill,
My defences were weaker, I should have stayed still.
But I rallied against him, writhing with all of my might,
My attempts are so futile, he's pinned me too tight.
For him, it's a game - he pretends it's all just a ruse,
But I'm beaten and shaken, my wrists start to bruise.
FOUR
I blame myself for this one, I was reckless you see,
But reeling from trauma, my drug habit consumed me.
He'd been rejected by me, how dare I do that?
Well that wouldn't stop him, G knocked me out flat.
I'd been carried and hidden, as limp as could be,
But his actions had been rumbled unbeknownst to me.
He said sorry after, I guess that makes it okay,
I accepted my rapist's apology that very same day.
FIVE
Dumped by my boyfriend, I was hurting inside,
A foolish decision led to violation number FIVE.
I went to York to be consoled by a 'friend',
I was vulnerable, distressed - on that he'd depend.
Or better yet still, G would ensure his success,
I can't fight him off if I'm not aware of duress.
This time, I woke mid-way when he began to smother me,
I kicked, I screamed and wrenched myself free.
--
ONE and (TWO), THREE, FOUR and FIVE,
Frankly, I wonder just quite how I'm alive.
I should feel emotion, I should feel distraught,
The numbness I feel, in nonchalance I'm caught.
Why can't I respond? Why don't I feel hate?
I guess that part of me died, a little too late.
AFRIENDOFTINA (Tom)
It's racking up now but I'm still keeping track,
The violations are numbered and there's no going back.
Each time particular, each rape has its twist,
Some worse than others on the ill-fated list.
With each passing tale I tell, I hope that I will find,
Some kind of solace from the numbness inside.
You see I have no feelings, no anger to hide,
My blood never boiled nor have I yet cried.
I hope this poem will spark some feeling in me,
Lets start with the first one, I guess we'll soon see.
ONE
The snippets and flashes are vivid through haze,
I was nineteen years old when I caught ONE's cold gaze.
ONE had a friend, I guess he's called TWO,
Not sure which of them did it, I haven't a clue.
Left in a bar by my irresponsible friend,
One drink, one spike which led to the end.
Blood on the sofa, seen as I scrambled out,
The pain unmistakeable, there couldn't be doubt.
THREE
This one was different, I knew and trusted THREE,
THREE was my boyfriend, I thought he cared for me.
But when the pleas are ignored, saying stop becomes thrill,
My defences were weaker, I should have stayed still.
But I rallied against him, writhing with all of my might,
My attempts are so futile, he's pinned me too tight.
For him, it's a game - he pretends it's all just a ruse,
But I'm beaten and shaken, my wrists start to bruise.
FOUR
I blame myself for this one, I was reckless you see,
But reeling from trauma, my drug habit consumed me.
He'd been rejected by me, how dare I do that?
Well that wouldn't stop him, G knocked me out flat.
I'd been carried and hidden, as limp as could be,
But his actions had been rumbled unbeknownst to me.
He said sorry after, I guess that makes it okay,
I accepted my rapist's apology that very same day.
FIVE
Dumped by my boyfriend, I was hurting inside,
A foolish decision led to violation number FIVE.
I went to York to be consoled by a 'friend',
I was vulnerable, distressed - on that he'd depend.
Or better yet still, G would ensure his success,
I can't fight him off if I'm not aware of duress.
This time, I woke mid-way when he began to smother me,
I kicked, I screamed and wrenched myself free.
--
ONE and (TWO), THREE, FOUR and FIVE,
Frankly, I wonder just quite how I'm alive.
I should feel emotion, I should feel distraught,
The numbness I feel, in nonchalance I'm caught.
Why can't I respond? Why don't I feel hate?
I guess that part of me died, a little too late.
AFRIENDOFTINA (Tom)
Anonymous
afriendoftina said:ONE, (TWO), THREE, FOUR, FIVE
It's racking up now but I'm still keeping track,
The violations are numbered and there's no going back.
Each time particular, each rape has it's twist,
Some worse than others on my ill-fated list.
With each passing tale I tell, I hope that I will find,
Some kind of solace from the numbness in my mind.
You see I have no feelings, no anger inside,
My blood never boiled nor have I yet cried.
I hope this poem will spark some feeling in me,
Lets start with the first one, I guess we'll soon see.
ONE
The snippets and flashes are vivid through the haze,
At just nineteen years old when I caught ONE's cold gaze.
ONE had a friend, I guess he's called TWO,
Not sure which of them did it, I haven't a clue.
Left in a bar by my irresponsible friend,
One drink, one spike which led to the end.
Blood on the sofa, seen as I scrambled out,
The pain unmistakeable, there couldn't be doubt.
THREE
This one was different, I knew and trusted THREE,
THREE was my boyfriend, I thought he cared for me.
But when the pleas are ignored, saying stop becomes a thrill,
Your defences are weaker, it'd have been better to stay still.
But you rally against him, writhing with all of your might,
your attempts are futile, he's pinned you too tight.
For him, it's a game - he pretends its all just a ruse,
But you're beaten and shaken, your wrists start to bruise.
FOUR
I blame myself for this one, I was reckless you see,
But reeling from trauma, my drug habit consumed me.
He'd been rejected by me, how dare I do that?
Well that wouldn't stop him when G knocked me out flat.
I'd been carried and hidden, as limp as could be,
But his actions had been rumbled unbeknownst to me.
He said sorry after, I guess that makes it okay,
I accepted my rapist's apology that very same day.
FIVE
Dumped by my boyfriend, I was hurting inside,
A foolish decision led to violation number FIVE.
I went to York to be consoled by a 'friend',
I was vulnerable and distressed on that he'd depend.
Or better yet still, GBL would ensure his success,
I can't fight him off if I'm not aware of duress.
This time, I woke during when he began to smother me,
I kicked and I screamed and threw him off me.
--
ONE and (TWO), THREE, FOUR and FIVE,
Frankly, I wonder just quite how I'm alive.
I should feel emotion, I should feel distraught,
The numbness I feel, in nonchalance I'm caught.
Why can't I respond? Why don't I feel hate?
I guess that part of me died, for me it's too late.
AFRIENDOFTINA (Tom)
It's never to late. I speak from experience. I promise you, never is to far. It's always ok to be late.
It's racking up now but I'm still keeping track,
The violations are numbered and there's no going back.
Each time particular, each rape has it's twist,
Some worse than others on my ill-fated list.
With each passing tale I tell, I hope that I will find,
Some kind of solace from the numbness in my mind.
You see I have no feelings, no anger inside,
My blood never boiled nor have I yet cried.
I hope this poem will spark some feeling in me,
Lets start with the first one, I guess we'll soon see.
ONE
The snippets and flashes are vivid through the haze,
At just nineteen years old when I caught ONE's cold gaze.
ONE had a friend, I guess he's called TWO,
Not sure which of them did it, I haven't a clue.
Left in a bar by my irresponsible friend,
One drink, one spike which led to the end.
Blood on the sofa, seen as I scrambled out,
The pain unmistakeable, there couldn't be doubt.
THREE
This one was different, I knew and trusted THREE,
THREE was my boyfriend, I thought he cared for me.
But when the pleas are ignored, saying stop becomes a thrill,
Your defences are weaker, it'd have been better to stay still.
But you rally against him, writhing with all of your might,
your attempts are futile, he's pinned you too tight.
For him, it's a game - he pretends its all just a ruse,
But you're beaten and shaken, your wrists start to bruise.
FOUR
I blame myself for this one, I was reckless you see,
But reeling from trauma, my drug habit consumed me.
He'd been rejected by me, how dare I do that?
Well that wouldn't stop him when G knocked me out flat.
I'd been carried and hidden, as limp as could be,
But his actions had been rumbled unbeknownst to me.
He said sorry after, I guess that makes it okay,
I accepted my rapist's apology that very same day.
FIVE
Dumped by my boyfriend, I was hurting inside,
A foolish decision led to violation number FIVE.
I went to York to be consoled by a 'friend',
I was vulnerable and distressed on that he'd depend.
Or better yet still, GBL would ensure his success,
I can't fight him off if I'm not aware of duress.
This time, I woke during when he began to smother me,
I kicked and I screamed and threw him off me.
--
ONE and (TWO), THREE, FOUR and FIVE,
Frankly, I wonder just quite how I'm alive.
I should feel emotion, I should feel distraught,
The numbness I feel, in nonchalance I'm caught.
Why can't I respond? Why don't I feel hate?
I guess that part of me died, for me it's too late.
AFRIENDOFTINA (Tom)
It's never to late. I speak from experience. I promise you, never is to far. It's always ok to be late.
This really is a difficult.write..
Please be good to yourself while writing....and good to others. I have not been on my best behavior during comps....i.have a big fucking mouth. And am.sorry...
Treat this like a support group..
Give hugs or shouts of way to go...pretty please...
This is not in response to any comments made already....
K...going for coffee tissues...and then read!
Please be good to yourself while writing....and good to others. I have not been on my best behavior during comps....i.have a big fucking mouth. And am.sorry...
Treat this like a support group..
Give hugs or shouts of way to go...pretty please...
This is not in response to any comments made already....
K...going for coffee tissues...and then read!
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
*Not sure if this really fits in with the competition guidelines, but it a personal account from the outside looking in*
"Smokescreen Love"
She’s smiling and laughing playin shiny with the guys.
Telling loving stories of the one who calls her his wife
...
How I wish they could see past the smokescreen fantasy and see her reality...
The beating before the forced unto love,
The shattered glass in the living room boxing ring,
And the addiction to his unforgiving fists.
I’ve thought about helping...
But what good would that do...
Save her for a night or two
...
Then what...?
Wait for that motherfucker to
Beat her so
Bad its
MURDER?
So instead I confine myself to pray every night
That she may
SURVIVE
To see tomorrow’s wretched sunrise,
Awakening to the smokescreen of the
‘Gentle,
Kind-hearted’
Man he used to be...
Fuck that...
He was never anything but a
Cowardly,
Worthless,
Lowlife
Piece-of-shit!
But what do I know?
Talkin’ ‘bouts how I’m gonna do this or how I really wanna do that, really just talking shit!
Like a fucking pawn in his game
I sit ideally by,
Adding to the toxicity of his
Smokescreen ‘love’ illusion.
"Smokescreen Love"
She’s smiling and laughing playin shiny with the guys.
Telling loving stories of the one who calls her his wife
...
How I wish they could see past the smokescreen fantasy and see her reality...
The beating before the forced unto love,
The shattered glass in the living room boxing ring,
And the addiction to his unforgiving fists.
I’ve thought about helping...
But what good would that do...
Save her for a night or two
...
Then what...?
Wait for that motherfucker to
Beat her so
Bad its
MURDER?
So instead I confine myself to pray every night
That she may
SURVIVE
To see tomorrow’s wretched sunrise,
Awakening to the smokescreen of the
‘Gentle,
Kind-hearted’
Man he used to be...
Fuck that...
He was never anything but a
Cowardly,
Worthless,
Lowlife
Piece-of-shit!
But what do I know?
Talkin’ ‘bouts how I’m gonna do this or how I really wanna do that, really just talking shit!
Like a fucking pawn in his game
I sit ideally by,
Adding to the toxicity of his
Smokescreen ‘love’ illusion.
Anonymous
....
Okay...decided I am not giving full reviews for this comp...just thanks and support...
And...I need a special favor from someone that can do more than just turn on a computer or phone....promise first place
For best helper! Lol
It wont take long
Pm me..
💋
And...I need a special favor from someone that can do more than just turn on a computer or phone....promise first place
For best helper! Lol
It wont take long
Pm me..
💋
