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Writers Paradise

~ I want to do something with my life, what better than my passion

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Tag Archives: abusive

And you changed that.

14 Friday Apr 2017

Posted by Rachel in Poetry

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

abuse, abusive, feelings, friends, friendships, life, poems, Poetry, sad, scared, writing

My heart is pounding.

I have tears tumbling down my cheek.

You all started yelling.

And banging at my window.

For the girl in my passenger seat.

But you’re scaring me.

Your yells remind me of his.

Your hands pounding on the window,

Remind me of the bruises I would wake up with.

I never wanted to be scared of my own friends.

I never wanted to be reminded of the pain.

I just never wanted to feel that again.

I never wanted to be scared of my friends.

An excerpt from the book I will never write #1

29 Sunday Nov 2015

Posted by Rachel in Excerpts from the book I will never write

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

abusive, book, boys, broken, broken heart, bruises, childhood, hickies, hurting, in love, Love, maks, relationships, sad, teenager, writer

I realized why I love hickies.

See I come from a traumatic childhood. With an abusive older brother, and I would walk around school with bruises of hatred and anger on my body.

But when I first met the boy who has now broken my heart, he used to leave hickeys on my neck and my shoulders. All my friends would ask me why I like them, why I admired the look and the feel and I never really knew the answer. Not until now.

See hickeys are bruises. They are created with the suction so strong to break the blood vessel’s thus creating the bruise. But these bruises are because of love and passion. Not of hatred and anger. Now I realize why I love them because they were a sign that someone loved me even for a certain amount of time, they were created out of passion and in the heat of the moment but they were more than just little bruises. When I had them I flaunted them because they were a mark made by someone who loved me even if it was just for a moment. A love that didn’t have to break any boundaries, A love that skimmed the surface of the category. A love that was so shallow, but never the less it was still a love.

Xoxo

The girl covered in bruises

My Life

06 Sunday Sep 2015

Posted by Rachel in Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

abuse, abusive, boys, depressed, depression, family, life, poems, Poetry, sexual assault, suicidal, writing

I am sitting on this cold concrete.

Spilling my heart and soul,

To a computer.

Because I do not know who here I can spill my past to yet.

This emotionless technology knows everything.

My dirty secrets.

My true thoughts.

My disturbed past.

And you,

You know nothing.

So you do not get to give your two cents about anything.

Because you do not know everything.

And if you did,

You might think twice about the words coming out of your mouth.

I know you hear it all the time.

“If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”

or the most popular.

“Have you walked in their shoes?”

So let me tell you a little about myself.

I am eighteen years old.

My parents got divorced when I was 4 months old.

I was raped at the age of 8.

I was physically abused by my brother,

From the ages of 10 to 16.

I was bullied In high school at 13.

After that I became depressed and suicidal.

I was sent to the hospital by my school,

Because they thought I was going to off myself.

And let me tell you,

They were right.

One direction saved my life.

Not in the literal sense.

Like they pushed me out of the way of oncoming traffic.

But more in the sense of If I did not listen to Little Things 3 years ago,

I would have killed myself.

I have self harm scars on my forearm and leg,

From as long ago as 2 weeks.

I have had weight issues my whole life.

When I entered college I finally got the confidence I needed.

Now if what you have to say is still relevant…

I am all ears.

My College Essay

19 Friday Jun 2015

Posted by Rachel in Assignments

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Tags

abusive, childhood, college, college essay, friends, past

Humans are the most complex creatures in the universe. Feelings intertwined with other feelings,  infinite possibilities of mixed emotions; one of the hardest things to do as a human is to forgive. We hold grudges just to bring back old fights, anything to release our true feelings  because we are not satisfied with how things ended the last time.  As a writer I am forced to see all sides of people, the good, the bad, and the ugly. Creating characters for stories, it is essential to realize that flaws are inevitable, and that stories are just a twist on reality but just as truthful. So, in my reality,  when he took his anger towards the world and lashed out at me, I eventually came to realize that everyone has bad days and they aren’t anybody’s fault.

My ability to forgive has been more of a curse than a blessing. When you can forgive your childhood bully and move on from the past, even become good friends, that is when you realize you hold a very rare and powerful trait: the art of forgiveness. Not only did this boy torment me and call me nasty names, but he also made me into a person I never thought, at the age of 13, I could become: depressed and alone. My mind went to dark places. I am not ashamed of my past because it is a part of me. People ask me if I could go back in time and not have started a conversation with him, preventing the future torment, would I. The answer is no. I would still start that conversation, because I am who I am because I took a risk to befriend the boy I had a crush on, the same boy who almost pushed me to want to leave this earth. When you come from a broken home of divorced parents and an abusive older brother, you seek comfort in your friends. I tried to make more friends. It harmed me more than it helped, but that’s okay.

Today we walk, talk, and laugh together. My friends now know our past, and because of them, including him, I have memories to last lifetimes. The people I surround myself with now mean more to me than family; they saved me from the darkness of my mind, and for that I am forever grateful. I have lost more than I have gained in my high school career; but to be blunt, my friends love me deeply, and isn’t that better than what most high-schoolers get? I would take the boy I have learned to love as a brother, even after everything he put me through, over a billion friends any day. I know he is truly sorry for all the pain he caused me, and that is good enough for me. There is good in everyone, and sometimes patience, kindness, and forgiveness is all you need to find it.

Poison houses

09 Tuesday Sep 2014

Posted by Rachel in Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

abusive, childhood, home, leaving, raised, ruined childhood

I’ve lived in this house my whole life.

Even though its potent with poison.

Filled with broken promises,

Multiple scars and bruises,

and shattered dreams.

When I leave,

I will not turn around,

And miss the place I was raised.

Because home is where you are happy,

Even loved.

I have not found my home yet.

But when I do.

I will hold on for dear life.

And never let go.

 

-R.M

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