oppression

Desperate defiance in the dark

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.

 

 

.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is perhaps, one of those "My struggle doesn't look like your struggle". 


Perhaps also, as the first person I showed this to, was unsure how to reply. Eventually they said: It is like you are bleeding straight onto the page.



They continued, keenly observing that. "People do struggle in knowing what to say. I think looking away while you’re so vulnerable is a relic of patriarchy: waiting for you to put your armour back on and get back up and keep pretending we’re all fucking fine."

Mother Culture's Lullaby

Author's Notes/Comments: 

For the #BlackLivesMatter movement; we're all human.  Let's act like it.

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One Chant

Folder: 
Dusk's Rule
Author's Notes/Comments: 

The news taunts you with issues about our rights, our moralities, what's wrong with the world, while the wealthy commit crimes against you and your neighbors--stealing homes, money, your children's futures, while attempting to make you believe that it's the fault of your neighbor. 

 

You have more in common with those of "differing views" than those telling you they share your beliefs.  

 

Be caught not with a minor offense, or prison is your home. 

Be caught with a major offense, wealthy, perhaps house arrest, or a small fine.  

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Wings of Stone

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Bleak Days

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Rebellion

Author's Notes/Comments: 

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