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3 years ago

To Adora, From Elliott

To the little girl, I used to be do you remember all those nights when you would stay awake Thinking up all those far away dreams You would stare up at the ceiling planning out how you would do it all

All those years you spent taking care of everyone else Watching your siblings,  making sure that they had the childhood you never had. Giving up on all those dreams you had made for yourself Handing them over to your siblings,  thinking that maybe they could let them grow. Planning on becoming their superhero, Ready to save their day, Shielding them from all the screaming, The sharp words being thrown like knives. Giving them a haven from the flying fists and broken doors.

But darling I promise you Your life will not have been wasted. I will following your footsteps saving the kids  from those monsters that lurk around them. I will keep themself, and make sure they grow

Remember all those nights you would make promises Between you and the world outside that shitty apartment window Telling yourself it would get better, rehearsing it so much it was branded in your heart and brain Telling yourself those thoughts would go away That you could wake up And be the perfect daughter You would wake up and be a girl and believe it Your body would no longer feel so wrong

Spending all those nights and early mornings Praying to that god you were so hopelessly clinging to Begging him to make it all make sense Those thoughts stuck circling in your head All the worries and fears that had kept piling up Tangling themselves together

you were right when you said you’d never see twenty-seven You weren’t even able to see yourself as a teenager The image always seemed so far off, Just out of reach  a dream you always had each night but always leaving in the morning light Leaving you with just tiny pieces of it.

You had been off by a few years though There was never a sweet sixteen for you No birthday presents and a new car. You had been long gone before that.

You had barely seen fourteen, Eighth grade was your last.  But I think you knew that. I think you had come to terms, Knowing that you would die soon. But that’s how you were always giving, giving, and giving. So I guess it wasn’t that big of a surprise.

What would you think of me now if you saw who you became Would you be proud? Proud that I finally found myself That I had finally realized who I was Would you be happy? Happy that I had made it this far, That I was able to finally make it to sixteen, even though you didn’t?

Because for me to make it, You had to die, I had to kill every part of you. I had to be the one to hold that pillow over your head, I still have the scars from those scratches you gave me. I carry them like war paint, showing the world how I was born.

I had to burn that name you carried for years,  Burning it to ashes, spreading them to the world. The name you carried on your back like a shield or a burden Depending on how you looked at it.

I cut off those beautiful brown locks that you loved. Those curls littered the floor of the bathroom,  while chopped them off with some old kitchen shears. That beautiful brown color was bleached and turned any color besides that natural tone.

Your skin that was then envy of your family I covered in scars and marks, making it match the way we both had felt. Making your family no longer love it, turning it into something they no longer wanted to see.

I took the breasts that you had always hoped for, And had chopped them off, leaving your chest barren and scarred making it easier for me to live, no longer have those things as a reminder as to who you used to be, while it had made you cry out in shame, for you had lost the things you had been hoping would make you feel as if you belonged in your skin.

but my dear adora, I hope you realize that nothing I had done to this body, that was once yours, was in malice or hatred.  it was just something I had needed to do, for me to live happily. please remember I’ll love you forever, my little girl of grey. rest well knowing will live this for the both of us, taking those chances you never did.

always and forever, Elliott Mars Parker.


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4 years ago

Take this body I'm imprisoned in,

This prison of flesh and fat

encasing me in something that feels so foreign

these breasts, that still haunt me

always stuck on my chest

reminding me no matter what

That this prison I live in is still female.

Take this skin I wear.

That's not light enough for it to be white.

but too white to be black

this skin that’s made of nightmares and scars

reminding me of all these nightmares, I've lived through.

Take these hands that are so rough and cracked.

Never to be soft enough for any of my lovers

where these jagged nails

are torn enough to rip and tear my cracked skin

Take my hair that’s too white.

To hold these curls of my ancestors

but still too black for my mother's beautiful red locks

take my voice.

That still shakes and cracks at the words,

I've had trapped in my throat.

Burning it raw and ragged

Making it so any words that I still manage to speak

are caked in the blood and pain

of the effort, it took to let me free.


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4 years ago

if today was my last

If today was my last How would I spend it? would I take in all the little things, gathering all those little details that I have always missed, my head has always been too full of all these things that keep me up at night. Or would I still just float through it all Still just a shell of the kid I once was, all the vibrancy and wonder having left years ago.

Would I go to the library? to collect a few last lines Letting them live on the tip of my tongue. only to set them free with my last breath. letting the feeling of ink on the page, be the last thing my fingertips will feel. the smell of paper and secrets, invading my senses and welcoming me home at last.

Would I go to the school that has hallways I have haunted? having drifted through them, my eyes empty and my brain always too full with all those thoughts. stopping in the classes to whisper a few final goodbyes even though nobody would notice or hear me pausing the disorder and energy in those hallways, for just a few moments, finally letting myself take it all in.

would I go to the forest wherein the deepest part I could lie on its soft grass floor, in the utter calm of it letting my lungs finally breathe in the crisp air, the feeling of its coldness expanding within them. closing my eyes for the last time, finally letting myself feel at peace and safe, hearing the bird's singing floating around me, their cries being the last thing I will ever hear.

My last words will be uttered so softly that not even the wind would hear them, when they escape this prison of my mind, floating away with my final exhale. My last breath will flow out feeling free for the first time, escaping into the world seeing it all.


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4 years ago

child of grey

My father was of ebony. My mother of ivory I am the child of grey. Not enough ebony to be of my father To little ivory to be with my mother

My heart was of half-ice. A cold so unfeeling So a cold almost to the point of burning, never enough feeling to care my head half of snakes calculating and cruel always planning and waiting for the perfect moment to strike

My heart is made of half gold. Tender and caring beautiful and full of love, perfect to suit you my head half made of fire burning hot, always craving for something to fuel it unpredictable and starving for its next game

I am the child of grey. With the head of flame and scales calculating and unpredictable, Ready to strike and always to keep you on edge. And my heart of ice and gold blinding you with its beauty, while slowing killing you with its burning ice


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4 years ago

to the sea

Take me to the sea. Where the air is crisp, and the smell of salt clings to it. Where the winds pull in the sound of the waves to the shore where I can finally hear them calling my name begging me to join them begging me to follow them into the deepest depths

Take me to the cliffs. where I can see the whole world in front of me with the deep sapphire sea stretching out to the horizon where it finally ends on the cliffs where the winds whip around me whispering those words of encouragement beckoning me to the edge telling me to take those last few steps To let those jagged rocks at the bottom welcome me home.

Take me to the forest. Where the trees swallow all the light leaving only the darkness to call my name inviting me to explore The air seems to be alive, swirling around me. Calling to me telling me to rest coaxing me to let the darkness and all the creatures in To let them devour me, control me. To guide me and welcome me home


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4 years ago

dear adora, from elliott

To the little girl, I used to be do you remember all those nights when you would stay awake Thinking and dreaming up all those far away hopes and dreams You would stare up at the ceiling planning out how you would do it all

All those late nights Planning on how you would save the day Becoming that perfect superhero Swooping in to rescue everyone, Saving all the kittens from trees, Putting out fires Freeing your family from that living nightmare they would never wake from

Remember all those promises you would use to make Between you and the world outside that shitty apartment window Telling yourself it would get better, rehearsing it so much it was branded in your heart and brain Telling yourself those thoughts would go away That you could wake up And be the perfect daughter You would wake up and be a girl and believe it Your body would no longer feel so wrong

Spending all those nights and early mornings Praying to that god you were so hopelessly clinging to Begging him to make it all make sense Those thoughts stuck circling in your head All the worries and fears that had kept piling up Tangling themselves together

What would you think of me now if you saw who you became Would you be proud? Proud that I finally found myself That I had finally realized who I was Would you be happy? Happy that I had made it this far, Being able to finally make it to sixteen, even though you didn’t?

I guess you had been right when you thought you wouldn’t make it For me to make it, you had to die That I had to kill everything that you were Stealing away your name Cutting off those long curly locks, everyone had adored scarring that beautiful skin, that used to be your pride and joy


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4 years ago

the bathroom

Smoke flows from my cracked and bloody lips the dingy bathroom lights flicker above me a low buzz echos through the room my reflection stares back at me a sly smirk gracing its lips I can almost hear its laugh echoing in my head. The cold porcelain of the sink pulsing against the rising heat of my hands dirt and grime caked on to the counter and mirror the buzzing of the lights mixes with the pounding of my head Voices and conversations outside the door seem to grow in volume. pounding against my eardrums All the noise seems to be surrounding me. Building up and building up my reflections laughter ringing in my ears the lights buzzing and flickering The mirror starts cracking. Sounds of glass falling and shattering mix with the symphony of noise The class finally shatters falling all around me. Knocking on the door starts. The pounding and shaking of the door mixes with the calls of my name It sounds like I'm underwater. The door and the voice feeling so far away while I'm sinking farther down in my head finally, I snap back I'm in the bathroom. the mirrors still intact no longer shattered lights buzzing no longer deafening My fingers loosen their grip on the sink. The reflection no longer laughing and taunting My legs start working. Uprooting themselves from the floor the sound of my footsteps echo against the walls


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3 years ago

At the moment

Dried mascara stains

Little marks on my legs, arms, and shoulders.

Numbers on the scale. 

Numbers on my plate.

Tears in my eyes

Lists

So many lists

Things to do 

Things to write

Words to say

Words that will never be spoken

People to talk to. 

People to avoid. 

Breathe in 

Breathe out

Hold it in. 

Suck it in. 

Suck it up. 

Walking on eggshells

It’s all so dirty. 

Clothes on the floor. 

Papers on my wall. 

God can’t be found here. 

Scrubbing my skin until I am raw all over

Ice cold showers. 

Grades are dropping. 

They are all leaving. 

I can’t breathe. 

I can’t do it. 

Is this who I have become?


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3 years ago

the little things

Sometimes, when I feel the way I do, I like to think about the little things. 

The little things that make life worth living. 

(at least for a while)

Like the way blushes grow on human cheeks. 

Little things like the sound that can be only heard when rain and laughter marry. 

Like lighting a candle while you start a new book. 

The perfect little notification you waited all day for. 

The way making someone else laugh sits on your chest for a while. 

The way blades of grass fit neatly between your toes

The completion of a simple task. 

The sound a dog’s collar makes as it walks. 

(it's the little things)

It's the tiniest of things too. 

The three-feet-distance between the desks of two friends.

That one freckles that girl you barely speak to anymore, but still makes you laugh. 

The glitter in someone’s eye that just never leaves.

The smallest possible paper crane that you made in class last Tuesday. 

(it's the little things)

It's also the big things. 

Like the first kiss you had that really mattered. 

Like the letter you never thought you’d get.

Knowing that she’s okay, even if you aren’t. Not anymore. 

It’s the realization that you understand. Even though it's a bit too late

But most of all it's the little things.


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3 years ago

If I am being truly honest with myself,

When I think realistically about my future, 

I know in my heart I will be alone. 

It’s not that love isn't something I yearn for.

I do. I really do. 

There is this fire in my heart that wants to be put out.

But I know it will always burn.

It’s not that I am incapable of loving. 

At least I hope not. 

It’s just that I can’t really see why anyone would want to deal with loing me.

From what I know, 

Which isn't much, 

Is that love is supposed to be through thick and thin. 

Love is supposed to be filled with little moments,

Like thinking of them while you fall asleep,

Like getting to know every little thing about them.

Love is supposed to be like coming home in their arms. 

And while I feel like I could feel all of those things for someone else, 

I know nobody would feel it for me. 

Who would want to?

They want to love someone interesting. 

Someone happy. 

Someone smart. 

Someone real. 

I’m none of those things. 

No matter how hard I try. 

I hope one day I will get the hang of it. 

Being lovable. 

But I suppose for now, all that is, is a silly, childish dream.  


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3 years ago

Selfish

For every set of hands joined together, i lose a thread in the sweater of my soul

 I wish it was me. 

I don't want to wait. 

Though it seems selfish

I just want to be seen.

To be held.

To be loved.

Selfish.

She held you didn’t she?

Why can’t I?

I know why. 

I have let myself go.

Every breath puts me farther away.

I want what everyone else seems to have.

Is that so selfish?

To want what is guaranteed for so many?

I think so.


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3 years ago

GPA

Every single test

Every Single quiz

Every single report card

I didn’t do it for me

I did it for you

I did it because it was all you ever talked about

It was all you ever valued

It's all you ever saw in anyone else

I thought that if the numbers were high enough

I thought that if I got close enough to four point oh

You would love me

You would see me

You would finally hold me

But you did not

You don't

And you never will

It was all for nothing. 

I have wasted it all

And now i am gone


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3 years ago

Mist

Fog rolls out of my heart

I know it is making you cold 

you shouldn’t stay

I have made you hard

I have made you cold

You shouldn't have to suffer because i do 

You don't deserve it

The mist that spills from my nose and mouth is poison

It probably will kill you

Don’t try to stay

I won’t be able to live if you go first

Is that wrong to think about?

I guess i’m guilty of that as well

Its my fault

I should have known

I should have known

I should have


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4 years ago

Ghost Children

There are moments

Bad and hard to comprehend, mismatched;

I do not know how to 

String together an entire good life

Or a person

Out of so many broken things.

What I mean is 

The Cat gets pissed

And he yells

He’ll smash the Dog’s skull

And there is so much rage in his body.

I do not know

How to tell the men 

This fury is not something to be proud of,

To carry or pass on.

There are children who have shrunk themselves 

And swallowed their own being

To fit into houses filled with so much rage:

Children who are too loud or too dumb,

Children who will never be enough,

There is no time;

Children who would rather 

Sleep on the streets

Than be here.

Children who cut out parts of themselves,

Make themselves smaller, be appropriate,

To belong here.

Children who rebel,

Grow tired of waiting, grow weary;

Grow up

And then cry for their mothers,

Gulp their own tears.

Children sitting on floors

Of good houses

And full families

And have never been more alone,

More annoyed at themselves

For not seeing all the good,

For noticing the wreckage,

For not smiling through their own slaughter.

Children who move out 

And do things they weren’t sure 

They wanted in the first place.

The Cat screams and scratches everyone

Trying to help him,

The Hamster yells of how her life was ruined;

The Parrot bites me, claws at the Cat and 

Keeps breaking things, so many things,

Screams of his entrapment.

I am small:

A rat in a big world,

    I have never been alone.


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He and His Love

Twenty second of July, I read your Hi

Sharing notes, that's it . Now bye.

Funny talks on the app for a while

Your everyday Hello's became a stockpile.

You ask for my pictures

But I hate being in other's phones.

I don't want you staring at pictures of me

I don't want to be in your memory.

You say that you love me

And I believe you

But you never really knew me

And I never had feelings for you.

What is it exactly that you fell in love with

No, not the real me, It can't be.

You fell in love, harder and harder

With the idea of me in your mind's corner.

You say that I live in your heart and mind

I know it's just the paintings painted by your mind.

I said no, but you just kept on explaining

You just kept me draining.

I believe you, I believe that your feelings are true

All the time and patience you took to grew

The courage to express the feelings in you

I appreciate it, I really do.

I hate that you can't stop thinking about me

All the fears, insecurities and pains that you see

I hate that I'm the cause if it all

You deserve better than that, something better than the fall.

You keep trying to make me fall in love with you

Just because your feelings were quite new.

I'm sorry but it won't work

Cause I have always been in love with me and I hope you do too.

I love my life alone, with friends and family of my own

People with the matching vibes who know me close .

Being an overthinker, yes I have contact limitations

Seems like you just want to cross it with your explanations.

I love helping others and chasing my goals

But you took too much of my mind and soul.

No, I'm not into you. Why don't you get that?

You ask if we could be just friends but still try to be more than that.

I had to stop it, wasting my time on you

Who seems to understand only from his point of view.

I wish you could see that you are just in a love trap

It's where you can't see clear with the love filtered lens and cap.

I pushed you away, I had to do it

Hate me, curse me, blame me for whatever I did

I could care less cause I could finally be me

And may be you could finally be you without any of me.

Comment your favorite line 😊


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7 months ago
ALWAYS RUNNING
ALWAYS RUNNING
ALWAYS RUNNING

ALWAYS RUNNING

-kalika

Always Running (spoken word)
SoundCloud
I do a lot of running for someone who doesn’t run, And by that I mean I’m always running from something. Not an easy catch, From men, I

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2 years ago

feminine rage

i was 11

crying over the loss of a friend

"boys and girls are just different" my mom told me

was it helpful or trivializing

i'm still not sure

i was 12

they told us something like 1 in 4 girls are assaulted

we looked around the room

wondering who it might be

terrified of the answer

they told us what the men are looking for

our eyes turned on ourselves

we didn't want to make ourselves more of a target

i was 13

during a self-defense class at church

we learned how to hit, how to kick

how to pop a man's eyes out of his head

barely a teenager

and they told me to hit the dummy like i really meant it

i was 13

ruth bader ginsburg died, and i cried

i rarely cried over anything then

but i cried over her

trump was already trying to replace her that night

i was 14

sitting in the front of the car

while my brothers in the back

made a joke about sexual assault

i wanted to scream at them

but i didn't

i was 14

we were working on a story about the dress code

one of the girls mentioned

that it hadn't mattered what she was wearing

my heart broke

i was 15

i watched as they stripped my right to my body

as people around me celebrated

what happened to my choice

a boy asked me to stop talking about it

for the girls in our class to stop using dark humor

as our only coping mechanism

said it made him uncomfortable

he still has all his rights

i am 16

a friend calls while she is running

just to feel safer

i have to explain to the boys in the room

that she didnt want to talk

she wanted to not be a target

i am 16

my brother says that sometimes

women are so annoying

he just wants to shoot them

i'm not sure he doesn't mean it

i am 16

"it must be his time of the month"

one boy jokes about another acting irrationally

it isn't funny

but i sit in silence anyways

i don't want to be accused of being emotional, too

i am 16

"men's lives are more challenging" he argues

he ignores every point we make

he was never going to listen

but we still try, desperately

finally our teacher shuts us down

i want to yell or cry or do anything to release the rage bottling up inside

the rage that runs through my veins

all of our veins

when they belittle us and take away our rights and make us feel weak

and we let them

because it's all they ever taught us to do


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9 months ago

A Coward's Guide To Being Brave

Bravery

A seven-letter word

And here’s a guide

Of seven parts

To teach us all

How to be brave

One

Fake it till you make it

Keep smiling till it’s real

Keep talking till you find

It’s getting easier

Two,

Give second chances

To those that you know

Compassion can change

And learn when

A second chance

Will only hurt you

Three,

Be honest

If only with yourself

About how you feel and

How you don’t

Discover what your passions are

And relearn yourself again

Four,

Keep both feet on the ground

You’re not meant

To be walked over

Or to keep falling down

Until your knees are bruised

Five

You are a work of art

Treat yourself like

You are holy and

You are in control

Even if you’re hurting and you’re bleeding

Your scars inside and out

Make you a canvas of the human life

Six,

Remind yourself you are worthy

You are cared for

And your experiences cannot

Define you forever

Because it’ll hurt

And forever is a long time

For you to forget

You are worthy

Seven,

Remember you’re not a coward

When it’s hard and you

Can’t remember what it’s like

For the sun to shine and the rain

To give you a break

Even when it’s hard to recall

When you loved yourself

And you just keep faking it

But you feel you

Will never make it

You are not a coward.

Bravery

A seven-letter word

And here’s a guide

Of seven parts

To teach us all

How to be brave.

-A coward


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