No Heroes

Voices are raised
protests are held
men call to arms
women respond.
Children play with toy guns
pop pop pop
noises made
bullets tearing flesh.
Blood
crimson floods
raging in the streets
raging in the sheets
raging……..
Lost in time
lost to pain
simpler times
viewed nostalgically
yet……
danger arises
daily
without any to cease its call.
Complacent
sickly bony fingers
hooked into the soul of humanity
tearing
shredding
those with care
those who would make change
destroyed by those who want
who need
the status quo.
Baby laying in the streets
mom slayed
laying in her blood stained sheets
daddy has the blade
turned on himself.
Down on my knees
not in prayer
not in supplication
rending my hair
screaming in rage
screaming in pain
screaming in defeat
for I can see no end.
There are no heroes
to stand for the rest
time has come
for death to pass.
©June 28/19
Picture via Pinterest
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Indomitable

***Today’s poem arose because I misread the Word of the Day Challenge. I read the word as contact when in fact it was contest. From the smallest mistake…..Also this poem deals with sensitive issues.
Resigned
staring into the mirror
no longer noticing
greasy hair
dead eyes
pallor
a wraith
alive in a nightmare.
Too many to count
pain
bone deep
her body never seems to stop
aching
cringing
bleeding.
Oh god
how much longer
must I go on?
Tears leaking
falling
salt to the wounds
upon her face.
All know
her stories are bullshit.
Stony anger
when disregarded
their best words
voiced concerns
she turns away
quivering voice
as one excuse
right after the other
fall from her lying lips.
Oh god
at what time
can I let go?
How became the end?
Violence begets violence
all know this.
Something roared to the forefront
a primal desire to survive
when first his fist made contact.
Knife in hand
she carved into his flesh
entering pained data
so much data
stories he beat into her flesh
given back to him.
Oh god
from where 
did this strength come?
Bruise upon bruise
break upon break
nurses cried with broken fears
doctors raged with impotence.
Stoic she was.
Beginning anew
my life is mine again
there is hope
there is healing
never again will I be……..
©June 1/19
Photo via Pinterest

Call My Name

Stepping through the mirror
hourglass dripping sand
I know not
where I am
where I need to be
I only know they call me crazy.
Sweet secrets
Independent
A wee bit loony
Well……
Mayhap a bit more
than wee
Some might call it
insanity.
Hear voices
chuckles I do
wrapping me
a web
woven
securing
keeping me
entrapped
that is what the sweet silk of your lips
does to me.
Mad as the hatter.
Seduced by hares
in love with a mouse
no one to save me
must save myself.
Decimated
claimed
reclaimed by the darkness
silver lining
I can find none
only an abyss
staring down
ready to fall
no net to catch.
Free fall.
Scream in delight
in fear 
there is no stopping
bottom 
rock or otherwise
I will hit
fears broken free.
Abused
scars of the mind
curtain
hiding what is not to be seen
am I a wizard
able to wave my wand?
I am afraid.
I know not what I sow
what I seek.
Who is here to help
to hold my hand
keep me safe?
Carved smile
skewed
cherry red
virgin’s grin
I will not be the sacrifice.
I will not willingly give my life.
Bind me not…..
tie me not…..
strength will imbue me
tearing away
roaring
screaming
fear me you will.
Somber smile
jackknife boots
assailant of the night
dread the mere whisper
of my name.
Wolf’s moon
full
pregnant
power
such as has never been seen
I have it all
you
well you have none.
Knife to your throat
trickle of blood
lips curled in disgust
no saving this beast
you are the sacrifice
I will bring you to your knees.
 
April 4/19
Image by 1632224 from Pixabay

Denial

Bitterness
seeping
oozing
black caul
wrapped around.
Words
razor sharp
sliced veins
blood running
emotions stripped down.
Cold
lifeless
unforgiving
I will never hear those words.
Sorry little one
I failed you
I failed to protect 
when I should have.
Never will she
nor he
accept the parts played
in ruination.
Concrete grey
muffling my screams 
fuck you
naught you know.
Prince…..
Pauper…..
Gleam of her eye
you took my place
forced to the rear
forced down
forgotten
unloved
unsupported
that was I.
Usurper. 
Taking my crown
my throne
stealing my home
shattering my hopes
my dreams
condemning me to this hell on earth.
Tired I am
of putting all first
my desolation
thought to be remiss.
Funeral pyre
memories shot through
conflagration. 
April 1/19
Image by Harald Matern from Pixabay