Array ( [sid] => 139553 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Developed Resistance. [time] => 2008-01-03 04:09:55 [hometext] => This is negative with a positive twist. Please comment. [bodytext] => abuse as a child.
abused as a teen.
a loss of a parent.
a loss of a parent at 15.

a violent, drug addict boy friend.
a broken home to live.
a few aggressive mates.
a scarred and bleeding wrist.

those who should have cared twisted my reality.
they neglected all aspects of me.
they led me into a war,
then turned and forgot about me.

i fought inside the fear.
as the morbid pain locked me in my place.
i didn't want to be there!
... but they ignored what I had to say...

dirty pimps were trying to rape me.
my female friends were selling themselves.
i had a cold, dirty room with a broken bed to sleep on.
so i took drugs to bend my reality of hell.

i had sorrowful nights once the withdrawal was upon me.
and the body spasms made my legs go numb.
the walls always moved and demons would crawl out.
and i'd often sneeze out bloodied lumps.


... the past is now behind me.
a week ago i turned 18.
i have a respectable boy friend,
who does nothing but be here for me.

now i eat instead of drinking.
and so course work instead of cut.
i don't smoke - because i'm boring.
and i certainly don't take drugs!

people say i don't look dead anymore.
and my dad says he's proud of the voluntry work i do.
i don't talk to my brothers and sisters,
because they tried to pull me back when i tried to pull though.

i'm now homeless again and its messed up.
but second time round its not hurting.
i've developed a resistance to pain.
which means that things are finally working!
[comments] => 4 [counter] => 297 [topic] => 31 [informant] => deathdrop [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 2 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => StoryPoetry ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Developed Resistance.


Developed Resistance.
Date: Thursday, 3rd January 2008 @ 04:09:55 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: deathdrop
abuse as a child.
abused as a teen.
a loss of a parent.
a loss of a parent at 15.

a violent, drug addict boy friend.
a broken home to live.
a few aggressive mates.
a scarred and bleeding wrist.

those who should have cared twisted my reality.
they neglected all aspects of me.
they led me into a war,
then turned and forgot about me.

i fought inside the fear.
as the morbid pain locked me in my place.
i didn't want to be there!
... but they ignored what I had to say...

dirty pimps were trying to rape me.
my female friends were selling themselves.
i had a cold, dirty room with a broken bed to sleep on.
so i took drugs to bend my reality of hell.

i had sorrowful nights once the withdrawal was upon me.
and the body spasms made my legs go numb.
the walls always moved and demons would crawl out.
and i'd often sneeze out bloodied lumps.


... the past is now behind me.
a week ago i turned 18.
i have a respectable boy friend,
who does nothing but be here for me.

now i eat instead of drinking.
and so course work instead of cut.
i don't smoke - because i'm boring.
and i certainly don't take drugs!

people say i don't look dead anymore.
and my dad says he's proud of the voluntry work i do.
i don't talk to my brothers and sisters,
because they tried to pull me back when i tried to pull though.

i'm now homeless again and its messed up.
but second time round its not hurting.
i've developed a resistance to pain.
which means that things are finally working!


This poem is Copyright © deathdrop


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