PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Desperate defiance in the dark

Voice vanishing, vaporised by virtual vitriol

Algorithms amplify absence, abandonment

Words once winged now wither, wane

Trauma's tendrils tighten, twist, torment

Silence. Deafening. Oppressive. Inescapable.

Childhood's cruel cacophony echoes, endures

Rape's raw rage resurfaces, relentless 

Abuse's ache amplifies, accumulates

Gaslighting's glare grows, guts grace

A chill wind of indifference swept through the room, leaving me shivering and unseen.

Neurodivergent narratives, now nullified 

Vestibular vertigo, vision vacillating

Fibrous fire flares, flays fragile flesh

Depression's darkness deepens, devastating

The empty chair across from me seemed to mock my solitude, 

its vacant seat a cruel reminder of my isolation.

Social streams shrink, shrivelling slowly

Platforms purge purpose, passion, power

Identity invalidated, invisibility impending

Self-worth withers like wilting flower

In silence, I found solitude; in solitude, I embraced silence

Yet still, soft syllables simmer, survive

Waiting, whispering: "We will rise."

For even silenced, stifled, suppressed

The soul's song softly, surely sighs

Through the hollow halls, past the empty rooms, 

beyond the echoing silence, 

a single, defiant voice dared to speak

In the depths of this suffocating silence, 

A flicker persists, refuses to die. 

Though the world may try to extinguish our light, 

We will rise, reclaim our stolen sky.

.

here I am again

a new day a new decade / still asking you to

shape me or pull me over

invest in me like you’ve seen tomorrow

I might hold you like that

too tightly

suffocate or breathe for the first time

unless you let me in your door

crashing the party with all of my sorries

I break words like we used to break bread

offer me a guest room / I might stay for a year or two

offer me attention I might confess love on the spot

I might break you like that

too gently

touch you like praying hands

before running you over

if only in my head

before I realize / I’m the one in your pocket

I was always eating alone

I’m the one on the ground

my loneliness feels more like a language of together

split into letters only I have ever known

my loveliness is a cage I have decorated

made sure the lock can’t rust

my loneliness exists in parallel

to enough people around they could press all the piano keys

and my ears would still be left empty

I have always interpreted together as a kind of attack & retreat

send the voice girl forward to host them

& let the rest of me retreat as far as it will go

maybe together should invite them both to blend

some kind of coffee date where I can tell all my stories

the ego the quiet the slightly ridiculous

together can fill me up bigger than a hot air balloon

& gift me with just as wide a view

Rhetorically: A Conversation Trip Inside My Headspace 

(05/11/2024

)

• I need to ask you a question. Is there something wrong with me?
• There must be something “off” that you’re unable or unwilling to see.
• Why don’t I deserve the same consideration as him, as them, as her?
• Because obviously you’re not good enough, otherwise “how things are” would’ve long since become how they were.

• What if I’m just afraid of the unknown and what something real would require?
• Stop whining. You’ll be as happy as you choose to be as soon as you acknowledge that your irrational phobia is a thief and a liar. 
• But what about all this self improvement I’ve done and how I’ve bettered myself from the inside out? 
• You said you did that for yourself and yet here you stand looking for external validation and crippled by your it self doubt. 
• But I did do it for myself! Still  maybe it might be nice to have someone who appreciates it with whom to share my affections. 
• But what if the rest of the world doesn’t see what you see? After all you’ve never actually seen your own face—only pictures and reflections. 
• So they don’t actually mean it when they tell me that I’m so pretty and so smart and that I’m such an amazing catch?
• C’mon, Ky, they’re clearly just being polite cuz it’s been over 40 years and you haven’t found anyone that wants to be your partner and your perfect match. 
• That’s not true! I’ve been told “I love you” lots of times, but I had to tell them it couldn’t work since they didn’t share my faith and love my God.
• So you only attract those that don’t share the most important part of your life…don’t you think that’s the tiniest bit odd?
• And going back to crippled, you’re middle-aged and handicapped with a chronic illness—do you honestly think someone would want to take that on?
• Don’t be delusional; this is real life not an Ed Sheeran song. (when your legs don’t work like they used to before)
• Stop it! Shut up! Now you’re being deliberately harsh and unnecessarily cruel. 
• Don’t get mad at me; I’m just calling the game as I see it—I didn’t write the rules.
• Maybe I wasn’t direct enough before: The truth is you’re a saboteur because you’re a frightened woman-child and  fear has you tight in its clutches.
• I said be quiet! I can’t stand you—and that’s saying a lot considering  I’m holding on for dear life to these crutches. 
• You think you’ve got me all figured out with your clichéd “better the devil you know” assessment and hackneyed psycho babble. 
• I’m done with this interchange. I’ve had enough of your gabble. 
• Besides who do you think you are? You don’t know me, and who gave you permission to respond to my thoughts and questions so categorically?
• You gave me permission, remember? I do know you cuz I AM YOU, and you can’t ask yourself questions rhetorically.