Categories
Poems

Poem #212

Don’t kick open a door and
tell someone to leave just to
stay surprised when they do
exactly that. It’s not strength,
you are not powerful for doing that.
Strength is being vulnerable enough
to ask someone to stay.

Categories
#savingme

Drunk and never there love

It was year after I had graduated my high school. I went to learn further. I was shy girl always I would sit alone by myself. People would give me weird stares and laugh at me. I was there sitting with my laptop and writing. Good god knows what but writing was always an escape for me. In a way it still is.
So it’s been like two month since I started my new school I got used to people staring and all the things. I knew I wouldn’t belong there ever. So I didn’t even try. One day there was this guy who came around asking if I had a cigarette and sure as hell I had plenty. So we went out and had a smoke. I kept siting there by myself. But he would come around again and again.. Then he would just sit next to me. I didn’t cared much. But then I had some girls saying that ‘Don’t give him smoke. Don’t do this. Don’t do that.’
I should’ve better listened to them. The 4month when we were sort of together was awful. I can’t believe I ever let myself go so low. His parents loved to drink. There were scandals all the time at their house. So we also went drinking. At first everything was okey more or less cause I didn’t bothered to think of how low I’ve skipped. But then I got tired. And he would still keep ask me for money and drink with his friends. He would get so drunk that I would have to look for him in cold winter night.
There was this one moment when he was so drunk and we all sort of was but when he’s drunk he’s terrible. He would just hit me, call me names push me against fridge or even worst. So he had went to get cigarettes but no one would give him so he had banged the window out. He wasn’t coming back for long time so we all got worried and looked for him. He was on the ground screaming some nonsense to old man holding him to the floor. So we had to get him out of there. But he wasn’t even able to stand on his feet. I was holding him pulling him just to get him home. But he kept pushing me screaming at me. And when I would let go he would start to attack me both physically and verbally. I would just cry at nights. But I couldn’t break it. I knew it was a mess but I also knew I had to be strong.
Well luckly for me we separated ways. Later he was put in jail for I don’t even know what. But I knew it would happen some day.
So girls, if he treats you less then you deserve.. just quit him. For yourself. For your future and even for your own life. I learned it the hard way
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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. 
Categories
Poems

Poem #209

Don’t lose sleep over someone who used
you to feed his selfish needs.
Sit back, sip some coffee and let Karma
deal with it.

Categories
#savingme

#savingme

« You.are.my.wife ». He shouted it. He was completely out of control. I was wondering whether he could arm me. I did not protect my face. I put my arms around my belly, feeling my child’s life inside me. I closed my eyes. And it was over.

His wife. Like I was a chair or a table. Like I was his property.

I was his prize. I was the one welcoming him with a smile and trying to be nice, always. The one cooking and cleaning and making his life easy. His nightmare some days. His terrible choice, other days.

In between. Only drama.

His breath and his eyes and his steps. I remember fearing the sound of his steps and the key, the door, opened and closed with a bang, the light switched on, even when he knew I was surely asleep at this time. And his body against mine. And his hands on me. And his breath again, full of cigarette and beer. And the same old marital, sexual duty.

At the beginning it was ok. Not wonderful but ok. Loads of promises. Love in the air. It did not last long. Not long enough for me to enjoy it. The first threat was just around the corner. Big mess, harsh words. He left. And he came back. And I apologize, out of nothing, for nothing. And it was nice again. And he proposed, kind of. And I didn’t say “yes” straight away. No way. So manipulation started. He would ignore me then say “he loves me”. He would be happy and then tell me “you are a slut, you’re nothing”. On and on and on. Till I said “yes”. Just to have peace. I believed maybe this would make him happier. And life would at last be a good one together.

It got worse. Nothing was never good enough. I was never good enough.

I was a mess. I was tired. I used to knock my head against the walls, wishing I could hurt myself more. I wanted somebody to see I could not cope anymore. I was becoming a ghost in my own body. I wanted somebody to take care of me. He said he would, if only I was good to him. But I was always making mistakes. I was always begging for forgiveness. So I could sleep again and have a “normal” life.

He never kicked me or slapped me. But his words and his look. His contempt. Him thinking he was better than anybody else. Him and his threats to kill me. Him and his will to control me. Him and his body against mine and his silence. He stole my money and 4 years of my life.

But he didn’t win.

I got away. One night. We didn’t talk at all for ten days. I remember hiding myself in the bathroom, crying under the water so he wouldn’t hear me. I would sleep on the sofa in the living room with my belly becoming bigger and bigger. My pregnancy saved me from a life of pain and violence. I took a one way flight, leaving everything behind.

It did not stop after that. But at least I was home. I was safe. It took me years to find myself again. My baby boy, my family, my friends helped me on the way up.

I believe talking about abuse, violence, is key. We need to share our stories. It can help. It can make a difference. Victims need to know they are not alone, need to understand that silence is a killer. We must raise our voices. We must tell them that a life is possible after hell. And that they are beautiful and deserve all the love in the world.

My name is Marie. I live in paris and write both in French and in English. You can read me (in english) onhttps://mahshiandmarshmallow.wordpress.com or (in French) on  https://latmospheriquemariekleber.wordpress.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. 

Categories
Poems

Typewriter Poetry

Categories
Rules

Rule #9

Categories
Poems

Poem #180

The voices inside and out were loud.
You lost control.
You just went with the flow and tried to
suppress the only voice important – your own.
In the midst of the chaos you said no to everything.
The phone stopped ringing and the chaos stopped.
For the first time you realized that the only
friend and the only lover you were looking for
was the one everyone fears – loneliness.
I guess you aren’t scared, you are one of the strong ones.
Embrace the strength.

Categories
Coffee Date

Home

HOME – one’s place of residence ; the social unit formed by a family living together

at home

  • 1:  relaxed and comfortable :  at ease

By Merriam – Webster dictionary this is the definition of home and it is accepted by the society. Even when we hear the word home the things that come to our head are a happy family, warmth, our favorite room of our house, the smell of our favorite dish but the problem is that those pictures fade away and all we’re left with are memories or they were never really there.

What is a home?

For me, it should be a place in which we feel comfortable enough to be ourselves, a place in which we are accepted for everything that we are and where we aren’t afraid to face our biggest fears. A bloodline family is not necessary in this picture and neither is a house.

Home can be everything. A person, a song, a place, a piece of clothing, or just ourselves. When we find ourselves in difficult times or when we feel alone, most of the time we want to go home, to the place in which we feel safe so we might as well make that place ourselves.

It’s nice to have someone to lean on and to talk to but at the end of the day, whether you like it or not, you still live inside your skin. Make it comfortable. Learn to be your own backup, your own warrior, your own savior and that feeling of loneliness will slowly fade away. Everyone should work first on their relationship with themselves and then on their relationship with others.

Realize that your own two hands are strong enough to hold you up and build you up.

If you already want to run back home, run back into yourself. At least this way, your home will never be to far away.

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Categories
Poems

Listen to me

Listen to me.
I know you’ve had it rough but
put a smile on your face because
no storm lasts forever. Everything will
turn for the best, you’ll discover a world
of opportunities and you just have to reach high.

Listen to me.
It’s too early to give up the fight. When you reach
the top you’ll enjoy the view and appreciate the
struggle but you won’t be standing still. You’ll
find another mountain to climb because you’ll be
a warrior. You will be in love with the game.

Listen to me.
What has passed has passed. Don’t shed a tear
over something you can’t make right. Even when
everything falls apart just clean up the mess and
build new foundations to become better every day.

Listen to me.
When you think it’s too late and the ticking
clock becomes too loud just bang it against that
wall and give yourself time to get back on your feet.
Don’t get scared now, don’t get paralyzed.

Listen to me.
My words are all I can give to you and maybe
they aren’t much. I don’t even know you but
believe me when I say that there are great things
coming your way. Just work for them.

P.S. So this is what happened. My FB page was deleted for some reason and I had 2000 fans. I’m trying to get back on my feet so could you help me a little with pressing like.
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Categories
Poems

Chamber of regrets

I had doubts from the beginning
and I guess I should have listened
to that voice in my head saying: ‘’slow
down girl, it’s going so fast’’.

Not really sure what was I looking for,
maybe some love and affection. I knocked
on the wrong door and entered a chamber
of regret that has no exit sign.

I’m just sitting here, wondering where I
went wrong. Maybe I should have been
more careful and listen to my inner voice.

I feel weak and I need manna to fall from the
sky because I doubt I’m capable of even fighting
for my breath right now.

This chamber of regret has a sweet taste to it.
I think I’ll just sit here some more and contemplate
about my deed. No rage, no sadness – just thinking.

Will it give me strength to pull myself out of this strange
place? I don’t know, but right now I got used to the silence
and it doesn’t torment me like it did before.

I’ve made so many mistakes and I know I should
make it right but I have no strength to change.
This chamber of regrets became my safe place.

 

P.S. So this is what happened. My FB page was deleted for some reason and I had 2000 fans. I’m trying to get back on my feet so could you help me a little with pressing like.
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