Guest Post information

This blog is expanding really fast, new followers are coming on board every single day and I’m thrilled! Our little community is not that little anymore! I went back to posting much more of my work to the blog because I had this period where I personally didn’t post that much and now it’s time for your lovely submissions to come in!

Since new bloggers who join us have questions about guest posts and don’t feel like digging through the blog to find all of the previous posts here are the three ways you can guest post on Luna. I will probably repeat this post after every 200-400 new followers just to keep everyone up to speed.

So our beloved POETRY BAR – here you send your poetry works to poetrybar1@gmail.com together with a few words about yourself and a link to your blog and an Instagram account if you have one since The Poetry Bar does and we post your works there also. Check it out here:  https://www.instagram.com/the.poetrybar/

Our second guest post category is #savingme project – here you can share your stories about any type of abuse you’ve experienced. The email is savingmestory@gmail.com. The project was made to let abuse victims know they are not alone. If you don’t want to share your whole story, you can share how you got out, some advice to people going through this hell currently. It’s a safe place and your story can be published completely anonymously. Also, you can see that I post about my own experience with domestic abuse and not only my story but my thoughts, mechanisms that helped me overcome it etc.

Can’t wait to see what you send!

Sending love and positive vibes,
Luna

#savingme – Solace and Sanity

Your hand released
Everything changed
Family extracted
Like I never existed

Lost

Little girl
Tear filled eyes
Stains down on her cheeks
Scars across her tiny body

Prisoner

Love, a foreign dream
Comfort, no such thing
Tragedy, encompassed grief

Suffering

Those dark brown eyes
Concealing what they have seen
Visual antipathy

Broken

Little smile
Pasted on perfectly
Something she learned
Authentic joy a mystery

Alone

Separated siblings
Mix and Match despite their feelings
Disposed of completely

Abandoned

Another child
Made to pay the price
Adult responsibilities
Addiction’s insanity

Violence

Seven years old
Lifetime of misery
Wise beyond belief
Desperately pursuing stability

Acceptance

Running to escape memories
Desperate for harmony
Just a little safety and peace

Solace

Wonderment in simple things
Never taking each breath for granted
Every day a new opportunity

Admiring

Thoughts infiltrating
Positive healing
Complete tranquility

Sunrise

Lost in the majestic beauty
Embraced by strength
Smile on her face
Kissed by the sunlight
Absolute comfort

Serenity

Blog: https://thebrokeninsideofme.com/

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#savingme is the column where abuse victims can publish their experiences just to let go and find comfort and support. Maybe it doesn’t feel like much but just publishing your story for others to read makes you strong. You can send your story about the abuse you went through to savingmestory@gmail.com and you can choose if you want it to be anonymous or not. More details here. 

#savingme – Why Me?

Another house
A new family
Why me
New school
No one knows me
why me
A different room
New monsters
why me
All alone
This house isn’t home
why me
Picked up and removed
They have no clue
Why me
My brother is gone
Can’t even call on the phone
why me
A million tragedies
Locked inside of me
why me
Remember smile and be polite
Complete strangers judging
why me
Examined under the light
Imperfection in plain sight
why me
Confused, damaged and all alone
Scary visions feel more like home
why me
Different than them
Only demons live within
Why me
Surviving the darkness
Hungry and cold
Why me
Sleeping on a bed of stone
Down by the river as viciousness unfolds
Why me

Written By

The Broken inside of me

https://thebrokeninsideofme.com/

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

#savingme is the column where abuse victims can publish their experiences just to let go and find comfort and support. Maybe it doesn’t feel like much but just publishing your story for others to read makes you strong. You can send your story about the abuse you went through to savingmestory@gmail.com and you can choose if you want it to be anonymous or not. More details here. 

#savingme – Shame, shame

This is the hardest post I’ve made so far.

Shame is a hard topic for me. I hate parts of myself and I am working on healing them, but honestly it has not been easy for me.

I spent years feeling ashamed and alone. I had this idea in my head that if I let anyone get close, they would inevitably hurt me. I fought against myself. I would run away from relationships or I would let someone in and then push them away.

I started to add more Shame on top of the shame I already had. I started drinking to numb the pain, and all that did was cause more pain. I was stuck in a vicious cycle.

It wasn’t until a counselor told me that I had it all wrong, did I really start to understand the root of my fears. He taught me about transferred emotions. An idea that was foreign to me.

TRANSFERRED EMOTIONS

He explained that when we are young, under the age of 10 or so we don’t understand what shame is. Yes we know the difference between right and wrong. We can feel bad about something and scared of being punished, but at that age, shame is something we can only feel if it is transferred to us by someone else’s actions.

This is not to say you can’t have emotions transferred to you as an adult, you certainly can and it happens all the time.

For me it was the daily abuse, and eventually sexual abuse (at the age of 7),that I suffered from. It wasn’t until I was a teenager that I truly understood what happened. I felt dirty and unclean.

I kept asking myself questions:

Why did this happen to me?

Was I a bad kid?

Did I even deserve to live?

The last thought plagued my mind for almost 15 years and still surfaces now and then.

NOT YOUR FAULT

I don’t know if I’ll ever be fully healed, but at least I am trying. One thing I have figured out, is that I am not to blame for my abuse. There was nothing I could have done to change what happened, it wasn’t my fault.

I did make some choices that I am not proud of, and while I probably made some of these choices because of my trauma, they were still my decisions.

I am making amends with my choices in the best way I can, by being a better person. I have been sober for years and while there have been some slip ups, I have never stopped trying to be a better person.

I hope this helps other people who have gone through, or are going through similar situations. While writing this is harder than I thought it would be, it definitely makes me feel better than I thought it would.

So, if anyone out here has been through verbal, mental, physical or sexual abuse, it’s not your fault.

People make choices and no one has the right to abuse you, and you don’t have the right to transfer that emotion on to another, just because you were abused.

Abuse is never an option and you deserve better.

Blog: https://oneregulardad.home.blog/

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

#savingme is the column where abuse victims can publish their experiences just to let go and find comfort and support. Maybe it doesn’t feel like much but just publishing your story for others to read makes you strong. You can send your story about the abuse you went through to savingmestory@gmail.com and you can choose if you want it to be anonymous or not. More details here. 

#savingme – Just Breathe

Some days I just want to forget
Take a step forward
Learn to be truly free
Except it continues to be difficult
Thanks to the memories that imprison me
Why is it so difficult
I sit here alone finding it harder and harder just to breathe
The darkness within tugging at me
It sits just below the surface
So many things trigger it
I just don’t understand
Why did it have to be me
Pieced together like a pretty little package
Not knowing when the next moment will be that will sweep my legs out from under me
In an instant my world goes dark
Fear, shame, panic and flashes of the most horrible moments are the best way to describe what is lurking inside
In that moment it feels like I’m just learning to breath
Gasping for air as I struggle so desperately
Telling myself breathe, just focus and breathe
Seems so simple
Should be
Just not in those moments
And not so easy
I often wonder if there will ever be a moment when I’m not dealing with that grief
When all the broken pieces fall into place
Will they ever finally set me free
Would I ever learn to accept & love the pieces I use to be
So many years, my life since birth honestly
All the intricate fassets that hold such horrific memories
Secrets, memories re-written by those who should have protected me But you didn’t hear that from me
I still wonder why my mommy & daddy never felt any love for me
I learned to hide make myself small
Never asking for hugs & kisses just food & trips to the ER is what my life was summed up to be
Don’t say a word of what you have seen
Followed by threats of more torture & death
I waited for an escape
I prayed for someone to come save me
Death started to feel like my only way out
I know I thought about it more than once
Wishing for eternal life ever after
The thought so morbid but still was something that provided me pleasure
A safe place in my mind with secrets known only to me
Now that I think about those times it elicits a physical reaction in me
My heart is racing faster
My hands are trembling and shaking
My hearing is completely focused on every noise that is surrounding me
My eyes dart around this space ensuring no one can get to me
My thoughts racing but I continually keep reminding myself that I just need to breathe
A chill of despair is beginning to consume me
If I don’t distract myself quickly I’m not sure I will ever be able to
It’s not something I’ve ever taken further
I’m too scared that one day I will be too tired to keep running
My biggest fear is it catches up and all these years I’ve spent avoiding it will be no longer as I’m forced to face it
What will all the shattered pieces bring to the surface
How can I be re-broken if the shattered pieces have shaped and already created the broken shell of a woman that I’ve turned out to be
I now realize it’s the all these broken pieces that continue to rob me of the simple ability to just breathe.

Written By

The Broken inside of me

https://thebrokeninsideofme.com/

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

#savingme is the column where abuse victims can publish their experiences just to let go and find comfort and support. Maybe it doesn’t feel like much but just publishing your story for others to read makes you strong. You can send your story about the abuse you went through to savingmestory@gmail.com and you can choose if you want it to be anonymous or not. More details here. 

#savingme – The Broken Inside of Me

I was born into a life no child should ever have to experience.

I have never known a Father’s love but instead a Father’s rage, addiction, violence, and being sexually abused.

I was only 2 when he stole a bigger part of me.
I was too young & didn’t understand but was left feeling confused.

I was only 4 when he ripped me apart physically.

Years & years of laughter, love, & joy were not what would be in store for me.
Instead i have faced countless surgeries, unbearable pain and eventually heartbreaking infertility.

Through no fault of my own just another thing he took from me.

The physical scars have distorted my body.
But it’s the emotional wreckage that has continued to haunt me.

I often wonder what that little girl would have grown up to be.

If only she hadn’t been so viciously stolen from me.
She had no time for playtime, fairytales, hopes or dreams.

But instead staying alive & keeping her sanity would be her biggest priority.

You may think she is a survivor & how true that might be
But it certainly doesn’t feel that simple with the daily reminders & horrific memories.

I was only 7 when she abandoned me.
A mother’s love,that I did not see.

Where was my protector & biggest fan.

The person who was suppose to build me up & tell me I can.
Horribly failed me in the short time we had together.
I only wished that she could have loved me better.
What was so wrong with me that my own birth parents could cause so much damage & destruction.
Not stopping to think about how all this would forever affect me.

I continue today living through all the repercussions.
What a tragedy at how my life started off to be.
All because they put addiction, abuse, violence, wants & selfish needs first instead of me.

Years of therapy, doctors & medication could never replace the shattered pieces of my heart, soul & innocence that they have stolen from me.

No justice was served or consequence for them to bare
Although apart they live worry free
No second thought of the damage caused to me
It is my burden to bear as they live their life vicariously
Wronged yet again through the system and no justice will ever prevail for me.

xoxo
♥️me

Thebrokeninsideofme

https://thebrokeninsideofme.com/

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

#savingme is the column where abuse victims can publish their experiences just to let go and find comfort and support. Maybe it doesn’t feel like much but just publishing your story for others to read makes you strong. You can send your story about the abuse you went through to savingmestory@gmail.com and you can choose if you want it to be anonymous or not. More details here. 

Violation

Don’t touch me I am dirty although my skin is flawless.
My heart and mind are filled with grudgulent dirty deeds.
I told them to stop but they kept pushing for more.
Now I am torn by the fact if I am dirty or clean.
They made me feel like a toy and certainly not woody or buzz.
The buzz in the hallways of school are that I am a sleeze or slut.
My friends have abandoned me because of this whole mess.
Don’t touch me I am dirty and need to be cleaned.
I hear voices constantly demeaning my character.
I hear this over and over. It must be true,
I never said stop or I dont want this.
I never ran away in tears or cried in fear.

My torturer is near and watches as I am made fun of,
ridiculed and put down by my peers.
Why has this happened to me?
Am I a toy not like buzz and woody but a system to an everyday evil ,
that has been accepted by the upcoming cutural behaviors of our new generational saviors.

They arent saviors, they are false prophets,
thinking it’s okay to wear loose or revealing outfits.
A womans body is a secret vessel that should be held to the highest royals.
Not a bid war given to the riches royal.

Don’t touch me I am dirty, I need to be cleaned.
Cleaned of this thought that I am filth and nothing more.
I look through the tabloids and see the “play” they make on “boys”.
Dishing out dirty lingerie and toys.
This culture believes this is the true meaning of satisfaction and beauty.

Don’t touch me, I’m clean.

Purified by the thoughts of being a strong woman.
I am a strong woman, no more picture perfect sculptures, I shall adore my own personal figure.

I will be the judge of what makes me comfortable, not “playboy” or any other centerfold.

I shall fold away the bad vibes and stick to what’s good.

I am an everyday woman, proud of my goods.

No longer a toy, no longer a prostitute, no longer a rape victim, this has improved my mood.

I will stand for what’s right and do what I must, to get my head back together and feel right about me.

This is a message to all the women who feel broken or ridden. You’re clean by nature and nothing can put you down as long as you have the will to withstand and rebel. Be proud of who you are and not let others make your choice!

Young aspiring poet/writer with a passion for telling short stories.

Blog: https://neseknows.blog/
IG: @neseknows

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If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram account to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com