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Growing Up

I am fifteen years old and I think I own the world.

I have a boyfriend and he loves me.

He yells at me but that is okay, he loves me.

He shoves me but that is okay, he loves me.

He slapps me but that is okay, he loves me.

He holds me down as I yell and scream because it hurts but that is okay, he loves me.

 

I am sixteen years old and I escaped my first abusive relationship.

...

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abusedomestic abusegrowinggrowing olderinternal struggleslam poetry

The Last Laugh

entry picture

The Last Laugh

 

You got caught out once,

sitting on the top deck of the bus

and gripping the metal bar

that ran across the top

of the seat in front.

 

He was bragging to his mates

and, although you couldn’t see his face,

you could see the dirty straw hair

and the muck ingrained in his neck

and you imagined him winking.

 

He turned round slowly,

looked ...

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bullyingchildhoodgrowingpay backthe last laugh

Do you hear me now?

You look at me and forget

I was strong before I was pretty 

 

You disregard my mind in hopes that my heart is a path leading you to my body and briefly

I regret to have met you, you see my eyes before you hear my voice

 

For you have already forgotten the first rule; I am strong 

 

So when I love, I love strongly

And when I hurt, I hurt badly 

 

But when I scream, ...

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feminismfightinggrowingpowerRaperegretrepairingstrengthwomanwomen

Spring Tanka

A winter bite that

mocks the spring, pincers its cocoon.

A life supported?

Cease one's internal decay,

Even ice melts. Love's fluidity.

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AnxietyCareCaringCocoonCompassionCompassionateConsiderateDepressionDiscoverDiscoveringDiscoveryGrowGrowingHonestyIceLearnLearningLifeLoveLovingMeltMental HealthNaPoWriMoNurtureNurturingPainSelf-beliefSelf-doubtSelf-esteemSpringSufferingSupportSupportingThawWinter

'The heavy hands of time'

The Heavy Hands of Time 

 

For youth

The clock rarely has hands

 

For the middle age

It has hands

That starts to spin

Too fast

 

And for the old

Time weighs heavy

Like all Burdon

 

Knowing that

Most of your time

Has now gone

 

Watching the youth

Wishing too

That your clock

Had no hands

To spin so fast

 

...

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growingJohn HarrisonolderpoempoetpoetryTime

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