Silent Cries

Poem Day 7

no major TWs, just mentions on mental health

The Perfect Society

What a world

What a world to be alive in

You may do whatever you please

Talk to whomever you'd like

Be who you'd like to be

Just as long as your skin is white

And you're a straight cis male

You can love whoever you want to love

Unless they're the same gender

Or opposite religions

Or their skin doesn't match yours

You can wear whatever you want

As long as girls wear skirts

To show off their bodies

And boys wear jeans

And work out daily

You can cut your hair however

As long as the girls are all long and feminine

And the boys are short and manly

Because otherwise, you're dramatic

And seek so much attention

We'll help however we can!

Unless you have autism

Or ADHD or OCD or DID

Because you can't be depressed and anxious

In this wonderful age

We'd hate for people to unalive themselves

But when we notice the signs

We'll push them aside

Because you're not that bad

You've had a good life!

We give everyone rights!

Unless you're under 18

Because only humans can have rights

And you're too immature to be

You can have the perfect body!

But it has to be our definition

Skinny waist, curvy thighs, large breasts for the girls

Chiseled abs, lean yet strong, perfect jawline for the boys

You can be whoever you'd like!

But if you're not male

We'll take some of your pay

Because it's just so hard

To upkeep the liability you bring

You can choose your family, women!

But not having kids means you're a burden

And having too many means you're irresponsible

And careful not to hurt them

Or we'll ignore that too

We'll give you so many rights

Unless you break these rules

Because unless you're identical to the rest

Robotic and perfect

You'll never be enough

Oh, what a world!

What a world to be alive in!

Poem day 8

TW: mentions of sh, su!c!de, @buse

Words

"I'm sorry"

Two words I never thought I'd here

Especially from my mother

Crying as she saw the marks

"I did this to you"

Five words left her mouth

Confessing that she abused me

And it was no excuse for what she did

"You're my baby"

Three words she said daily

But for some reason

Today had a little more meaning

"I wanted you to be perfect"

Six words she said before

When she realized I was human

And not just a robot

"You were too young"

Four words she cried out

When she found out the age

That I first started hurting myself

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Five words she asked

When she realized how long

I wanted to unalive

"You didn't break apart this family"

Six words she choked out

As I cried in front of her

Confessing my very fears

"Tell me what I can do"

Six words repeated before

But it's always the same answer

Because I can't even help myself

"I needed an outlet"

Four words she used to explain

The pain she put me through

Because her mother did the same

"I'm sorry"

Two words I've never heard

Until the night I was going to end

And she finally saw my pain

Poem Day 9

TW: small mentions of sh and implied su!c!de, and the content isn't very happy

Living Puppet

I'm alive

Yes, I'm alive

I can feel my heart beating and my lungs expanding

I can feel the tingling in my arms or the brush of hair against my face

I can hear the sound of my own voice, see myself in the mirror

And yet

I don't feel alive

Yes, I'm alive

I can see the nail polish I carefully painted onto my fingers

I can see the delicate rings laid on my hands

I can see the swirls of henna I decorated on my palms

And yet

I don't feel alive

Yes, I'm alive

I can see the red marks lining my arms that sting ever so slightly

I can feel the array of bracelets covering such scars

I can feel the rough skin on my shoulders that are red from injuries

And yet

I don't feel alive

Yes, I'm alive

I can feel this chest and this stomach I hate so dearly

I can see the stretch marks adorning my hip and sides

I can feel the pain in my back that never seems to go away

And yet

I don't feel alive

Yes, I'm alive

I can feel every step my feet take down the gravel road

I can feel the pain in my calves that has been there since childhood

I can see the marks on my legs that I hope go unnoticed

And yet

I don't feel alive

Yes, I'm alive

I can see my own face in the mirror, mimicking the expressions I make

Acting a better puppet than I, would they like it more than me?

The hair I always change to feel like myself

And yet

I don't feel alive

This body continues to breath

Yet is it even mine?

How do I know I'm not an imposter

In my own mind?

I can change it all I'd like

Play dress up with the puppet

As I pull the right strings

To smile to the audience

Dance, puppet boy, dance

They'll only like you if you entertain

Don't mess up the act

And pay the debt of your existence

Poem Day 10

Tw: depressing content overall, some hinting at not great stuff

Singing Angels

I look towards the sky

White wings and halo fair

Gowns as pure as an infant

As I breath in the light air

Should I sing towards the clouds,

So I can wish among the stars?

Or do I wait for the sunrise

And let the morning be ours?

Should I sing towards the trees,

As squirrels skitter the trunk

Or do I hope that the winter

Won't leave my ship sunk?

Should I sing towards the ground

Where the flowers gently bloom?

Or should I turn from the grass

And lock myself in my room?

Should I sing towards the birds

That fly free through the sky?

Or do I stay on the ground

To keep wondering why?

Should I sing to the towards the sky

And join the angels up above?

Yes, I think that I should

As a tribute of love

Poem Day 12

TW: mentions of @buse and sh

Burning Wood

"We want to help"

Teary-eyed, amidst the rain

Wind tickling our skin

As we stood face to face

Staring into her face

The face that hurt me

The face that scolded me

The face that hit me until I bled

The face that told me I was worthless

The face that said I needed to be perfect

But now

That face was twisted with grief

Over the life she gave up

My life, of the perfect daughter

Tears rolling down her face

Tears that were once used to gaslight

To manipulate, to guilt-trip

Now standing amidst that rain

Staring at the marks on my body

Put there by my own hands

She stares

Crying how it was her fault

Crying how she made me like this

Crying how she abused me

Crying how she did everything wrong

But I simply stood there

Stone faced, stone hearted

Without a single tear

Because she never gave me one

When mine poured out before

But now

I stood still

As she saw the marks

And the pain

And the sullen face

Of the robot she created

Her wonderful masterpiece

Dance, puppet boy

With strings made of wire

Red-hot on your wrists

Burning into your skin

We don't care for the emotion

We don't care for the tears

We don't care for the talking

Just do as we say

Obey, Obey, Obey

You must be perfect

My little puppet to show off

And throw away at any time

But now the puppet boy

Has broken from the string

As you sit there and cry

About the burns they left behind

But you were the puppetmaster

You were pulling those strings

You demanded perfection

When you couldn't be perfect yourself

You wanted a trophy

To show off and brag

But your efforts were in vain

Because the puppet fell apart

And you cry over the pieces

Why, puppet boy?

Why don't you cry?

Let us help, puppet boy

We'll pick up the pieces

But standing in the rain

Your tears fell still

Because the drizzle burns

Yet I say not a word

Because nothing could compare

To the pain of the past

When puppet boy

Was thrown into the fire

And you discovered

That wood burns

Poem Day 13

TW: mentions of @buse, ***, war, and other triggering topics

This poem features song lyrics:

Hanging Tree by Jennifer Lawrence

Warriors by League of Legends

Living War

"Are you, are you, coming to the tree?

Where de@d man called out, for his love to flee

Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be

If we met, at midnight in the h@nging tree"

Come to the tree

Where the green leaves fall

Fictions making way

For reality to come

Talks of war among the kids

Becoming more than just words

Like living in a movie

Yet the movie won't stop

"As a child, you would wait

And watch from far away

But you always knew you'd be the one

That'd work while they all play"

Other kids ran in the grass

Friends wrapped around their arms

But I stood inside that window

Watching with a longing

Before being dragged back in

A harsh grip on my arm

"Perfection" they demand

As they start another war

When will life stop being a film

Of different genres for our pleasure

A horror, as we watch the kids

Walk about with bulletproof bags

Anticipation building

When the next attack may happen

A sci-fi, where fear rises

Of otherworld creatures

Except instead of aliens, it's religions

Clashing amongst each other

A melodrama, where the mothers

Must sacrifice their lives

Their bodies and their spirit

For the children to live on

A romance, except the love interests

Are forbidden, banned, or k!lled

Same gender, same skin color

Then their love cannot be true

Since when did life become a movie

Where there is no happy ending

Because with each new generation

It'll all repeat again

@NebulaCreation

hey! You write it so beautifully. While reading your poems, I feel your emotions. I am really sorry for what’s happening to you. Really sorry.

but you are a wonderful poet! Cheers to you!

<3