• Café Life is the Colony's main hangout, watering hole and meeting point.

    This is a place where you'll meet and make writing friends, and indulge in stratospherically-elevated wit or barometrically low humour.

    Some Colonists pop in religiously every day before or after work. Others we see here less regularly, but all are equally welcome. Two important grounds rules…

    • Don't give offence
    • Don't take offence

    We now allow political discussion, but strongly suggest it takes place in the Steam Room, which is a private sub-forum within Café Life. It’s only accessible to Full Members.

    You can dismiss this notice by clicking the "x" box

Poetry free

The World Between the Words
TW: abuse
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*



Let me in, breathe me in
So deep, I’m suffocating—
Don’t stop—
Let me touch—don’t touch me.
A bottle spun by who?
Let me taste—
If I can stop screaming, he’ll hear me.
If I stop crying, he’ll relent.

Who cares?
I’m turning and turning and turning.
I love it—I hate it—I feel it. Don’t feel it.
Please, stop. Don’t stop.
You’re not clear. You’re not sober. You’re not well. Your fault.
Break me, put me together, and I’ll tear again a hole.
Can’t bear to be whole.
Let me love you—I’ll never love you.
But I am talking to whom?
Who am I, if not angry?
See my strength.
I separate skin with steel.
I cry ‘til snot bubbles and saliva bleeds.
Now am I pretty?
A pretty secure secret, even I've lost the key.
Where was I going, and where will I be?
A girl grasping sheets, failing to pull free.
Weak.
She's all I see.
 
Last edited:
TW: abuse
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*



Let me in, breathe me in
So deep, I’m suffocating—
Don’t stop—
Let me touch—don’t touch me.
A bottle spun by who?
Let me taste—
If I can stop screaming, he’ll hear me.
If I stop crying, he’ll relent.

Who cares?
I’m turning and turning and turning.
I love it—I hate it—I feel it. Don’t feel it.
Please, stop. Don’t stop.
You’re not clear. You’re not sober. You’re not well. Your fault.
Break me, put me together, and I’ll tear again a hole.
Can’t bear to be whole.
Let me love you—I’ll never love you.
But I am talking to whom?
Who am I, if not angry?
See my strength.
I separate skin with steel.
I cry ‘til snot bubbles and saliva bleeds.
Now am I pretty?
A pretty secure secret, even I've lost the key.
Where was I going, and where will I be?
A girl grasping sheets, failing to pull free.
Weak.
She's all I see.
Very moving.
"I cry ‘til snot bubbles and saliva bleeds" conjures up a hell of an image... maybe an image of hell.
 

Further Articles from the Author Platform

Latest Articles By Litopians

  • Matt-y numty had a great fall
    I had an appointment in Berlin’s Mitte recently. Since then, I’ve been thinking a lot. Now, the ...
  • Scheherazade’s Sandbox
    The Year of the Snake, now coming to a close, promised introspection and wisdom. To help with this, ...
  • Where is the Love?
    I recently heard an author say that, when he’s editing, one of the questions he asks himself is ...
  • A Young Man’s Fancy: Tanzen Bitte
    . “Tanzen bitte. Wanna dance?” “Ja.” “Err… do you Kommen sie hier often?” “Jeden Sam ...
  • Winging it
    ‘I could never write a book,’ a friend said to me recently. She meant it as a compliment and I a ...
  • The Monster We Were Promised
    I tutor a small group of Year Five boys who love boardgames (let’s call them the Gamer Boys). We ...
  • Character Building
    I’m sure most of us have felt the excitement when we meet a new character. I wonder, do yours arri ...
What Goes Around
Comes Around!
Back
Top