Wednesday, 30 November 2016

Naivety's Price (November 26, 2016)

Society talks
About love. 

As if
It was a hyperbole
Of our souls.

In telling children
We will always 
Love them.

No matter 

And yet
For many children
They have nothing left.

This flimsy claim
To hang onto. 

As they're tortured
And abused
At the hands
Of their parents.

Only guilty 
Of being born

The wrong gender
Or sexuality.

All the while
Being told
Their punishment is
A sign of love.

Blaming themselves
For not being 
Good enough.

Or should have
Done things
Only differently
The first time.

The real fault lies
With the adults.

Leaving the child
To pay
The most horrible price
Their life.

Therisa © 2016

Monday, 21 November 2016

Untitled (June 24, 2016)

Each passing second
My soul dies
A small death.

Words are replaced
By a flooded soulscape
Meters deep
In tears.

Internalized anger
Builds up
Consuming all.

A black hole
Only remains

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Wrote this micro poem, on the TTC Rte #23 bus, heading towards the Main St subway station, for my Friday afternoon art program.

Saturday, 19 November 2016

On The Edge Of Tears (November 19, 2016)

We look
At the future
With rose coloured

Of an emerging world
Filled with love
And compassion.

Our past is
One filled
With extreme prejudice
And violence.

For too many
Of our brothers
And sisters
Have paid
In their lives.

At the hands 
Of family members
Or complete strangers.

I know
All too well.

Having experienced
Traumatic events
From both.

Costing me
My life.

Sitting here
Fighting back
The tears.

To unleash
An emotional tsunami
Upon my soul. 

Tomorrow is
November 20th
Day of Trans-Remembrance.

My community
Remembers those
Were murdered.

Or driven
To their deaths.

It's the last time
We must gather
And read off 
New names.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Around the world, the Trans-community will be observing Day of Trans-Remembrance, on November 20th, for our brothers and sisters, who died, at the hands of others. In Toronto, The 519 will marking this event, from 4-8 pm, at 519 Church St., Toronto, Ontario.

Tuesday, 15 November 2016

Falling Downwards (November 1, 2016)

My eyes are 
Becoming bleary
As the tears
Roll down.

Of guilt and shame
Wrack my soul.

As memories
Stream forth
Of another time
And place.

I found myself
Praying for death.

Despising myself
For being 
A freak.

Thoughts of death
Flood my mind
As everything
Become a weapon
To me.

Just wanting
The pain
To end.

By any means

Even now
Should Death 
Embrace my body
I won't fight Her.

Just want my pain
To be over.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Before the age of 12 years old, I have attempted suicide, several times, but failed, for various reasons. I haven't felt this down, hopeless and depressed, since the 2010/11 holiday season, when I made my last attempt. November, next to July (my second hardest), is the hardest month, emotionally, for me. Right now, I wish, I had my dad, to cry in his broad shoulders, and have him. give me, the emotional support, unconditionally. Something, my mom has never been able to do,

Friday, 11 November 2016

In A Trump World (November 11, 2016)

Judgment Day
Has come
And gone
For the United States.

Reality is
Sinking in
For the world.

As reaction
To Trump's election
Spreads forth
At light speed.

Many people

Of election promises
Reverberate down
Empty corridors.

Hate-filled words
Leaves it mark
On a scared people.

Seeing enemies
In every corner
Of the world.

As they walk
Down this path
Their hearts filled
With despair 
And rage.

Where fiction
Becomes reality.

A sober second thought
Or logic
To the arguments.

Marking life
For the next 4 years
On this planet.

Therisa © 2016

Tuesday, 1 November 2016

Breaking Away (November 1, 2016)

If April is
The month of showers
And May

November is
The month of tears.

I say this
As storm clouds 

A time of death
And rebirth.

Of family lost
And a soul
That's reclaimed
From the dead.

As the healing process
Works its way
Through me.

The transition period
From light to dark
And back

To let the pain
Claim me
As another victim
Of hate.

As it has
For too many year
In my life.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Today is, an anniversary date for me, which 3 years ago, I broke off my last contact with my abusive mom. Thus, cutting off, all contact with my biological family. At the time, I had asked her, if it was possible for her, to get my birthday and Christmas gift, at the same time, as the country roads to her home, can become unsafe, from November until April, due to snow. For I had asked her, for help on buying a new winter jacket, for myself. Needless to say, she found countless excuses, why she couldn't help me, when I rarely ask for anything, from me. After hearing her last excuse, I told her, to sod off and want nothing more, to do with her, in my life. 

Am so tired, of having to fight anxiety attacks, playing by her restrictive rules, whenever I want/or need to contact her, of seeing her eyes filled with fear, which she denies. Her refusal to entry my apartment, as if, I have bedbugs, inside. Generally, being treated, as a childish family member, one can barely tolerate, at the best of times. Who needs, all aspects of their live, to be controlled, by an "adult". As if, I was mentally unable to look, after myself.

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