Pick up the phone

Pick up the phone

By Zoha Lixue

I keep waiting for the call

That will tell me when it is over

Let me know that all is done

The tears

The lies

Is all come to an end

I am waiting for the call

To tell me it is time to live again

To smile

To breathe

Waiting for the call that says

“He is dead”

So my childhood can stop haunting me

Waiting for the day when I am not afraid

When I don’t go to bed

Thinking he is on his way

His plans to hurt my daughter

Give her nightmares similar to mine

I am waiting all the call

That ends it all

The one that will tell me that it is ok

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I is for In the blood

Via Pinterest. Artist unknown.

In the Blood

By Zoha

There is something about the blood.

I don’t know what it is but I am drawn to it

The sight makes me happy

My heart beats faster in my chest

There is something about it

That makes it so I can’t rest

I love the smell

The feel

The taste

I love how it looks sliding down your shocked face

Nothing brings me more pleasure

Nothing can compare

Maybe that is the reason why

I ended up burning in hell

A/N In the Blood is my favorite phrase. So sorry if I use it a lot in my writing. You will survive.

I beg your pardon

Excuse me!

Yes You!

One who dares to take a glance with a decent hello.

I dare say I am offended

Because you never say a word

Just look around without a care

Not a word to those who sit here

As though we are invisible

Well screw you.

Well…Not really

I wouldn’t say that

But I would if I wanted to!

I mean…probably not.

I could never be that mean.

I beg your pardon for being obscene.

Just go on about your day

And ignore me

Say it with me

I like the words low self-esteem. That makes it seem like there is hope. That one day it can come back.

Now zero self-esteem, that is a different story. That means there is no chance of it coming back without some outside help.

But how can we go about life lacking it and expect others to help us. We are always being told that if we do not love ourselves then no one else will love us. So what if a person hates themselves with a passion, does that mean that they will always be alone?

I like to think that there is a chance they can be happy. It will just take someone from the outside to help them see the light.

She used to be hopeful

She used to try

She used to smile

Once upon a time

A bright future a head of her

But her head in the clouds

She used to be normal

Then she was found

In a backend ally

With her knees on the ground

Surrounded by people

But lost in the sound

She used to be everything

She used to be love

Now she is nothing

Someone we all judge

Needle in her arm

And hate in her heart

How did this happen

What tore her world apart?

She used to be helpful

She used to be wise

She used to be everything

In her loved ones eyes

But now she is found

Laying in the ground

Surrounded by people

But lost in the sound

Of her own imagination

Of her own mistakes

She used to full of life

And now she slowly breaks

Needle in her arms

Blood on her legs

Crawling on the ground

To get away from the people

That roughly surround

She wants to be lost

Stuck in her own sound

The Slaver Ring

See your brown skin amuses me

Brings tears into my eyes

It is cute how you struggle

It is cute how you try

Think the dirt can wash off

Think there is purity in your blood

To bad you will never came away from it

You will never be one of us

There is savage in your bloodline

A disease that can’t be cured

One of those disgusting creatures

That likes to pretend they are misunderstood

See your brown skin amuses me

Brings a smile to my face

It is cute how you think you are human

It is cute how you think you are safe

We will never allow you to wonder

Never allow you to be free

Your just another worthless mongrel

That just so happens to entertain me

A/N I hate the way this ends. I feel like there is more to say but for right now I will leave it be.

I can’t remember me

 

Just another part of the machine allowing to to function

going on about life as though it was nothing

I was different and now I am not

I am one of the group

part of the flock

a follower of the mans word

Someone with a lot of fault

I never meant for this to happen

I just wanted the pain to stop

I do not know how I got this way

It truly wasn’t suppose to be

but I needed a reason to continue on breathing

So here I am, phone in hand

pretending to give a damn about those around me