Welcome to Gaia! ::

This is where you add your lyrics, poetry, drawings (if possible, I don't know if we can do that), anything you can think of that deals with abuse in an artistic way.

That's awesome! Just a question...

Could you tell me the difference between an announcement and a sticky, please? Can everybody post when it's a sticky?

not as good...

Haiku((Japanese form of Poem Writing, It goes by 5 syllables, 7 syllables, and 5 syllables)):

"Wolves of Time"

Sleek and Swift and Strong

Haunting Cries of Emotions

Reclaim Destiny


"Mist"

Gentle and Serene

But foggy and misleading

And obscures eyesight




bleh i drew these in science class....in 5 mins... i know that the horse looks a bit weird, but i like the flower X3

I drew this picture during history class

One hundred and fifty-seven ways to tell my incest story

Tell it in Spanish
In Sign Language.
Tell it as a poem
As a play
As a letter to President Reagan.
Tell it as if my life depended on it.

I was not molested as a child.
I feared, when I was three years old, that a
Man would come into my room in the
Middle of the night and Get me.
Where did that idea come from?

I wonder why I hate my father so much.
The explanations I’ve adopted don’t add
Up to the amount of anger and hatred
I feel.
There’s a vague possibility I was molested
As a child.

Tell it as a court case
As a congressional debate
As if the power of children were respected.
Tell it as domestic terrorism
As a national sport.
Tell it as a jump rope game:

A my name is Annie
He stuck it up my a**s
Now I’m Angry
I want Action.

B my name is Betty
The p***s was my Brother’s
I wrote a Book
‘Cause I want to get him Back.

C my name is Carla
He said he’d give me Candy
I told my Cousin
And her dad got Caught.

D my name is Doris
I was still in diapers…

Tell it as graffiti.
As a religious service.
Tell it as a classified add.

Why is it that when I see Dad I make sure to
Wear a long scarf that covers my chest?

There’s no way he could have molested me.
I’d remember it. I have a great memory.
Everybody in my family says so.

Why did I suddenly start hating him when I
Was eleven years old?

I think my father might have molested me
When I was a child.

Tell it as a TV commercial
As a science experiment
As a country western song.
Tell it as ancient history
As science fiction.
Tell it in your sleep:

This time I decided to get him instead of
Letting him get me. I jerked him off
Angrily, scratching his c**k with my
Fingernails, digging them into his flesh as
Deep as I could. I kept going at it, trying
To make him ejaculate. Then I realized it
Would be meaner to stop. As soon as I
Stopped, my mother was there again.

Tell it as a bedtime story
As a bumper sticker.
Tell it as if we liked it.

When I was young, I used to say, “Don’t touch
Me, I’m alive!” Why did I make up that
Expression?

Tell it as a justification for nuclear war
As a justification for never having another war.
Tell it as a greeting card:

To A Beloved Niece –

On this day I think of you
A girl with virtue always true
A sweeter thing I ne’er did see
No wonder Pop molested thee.

Your rosy breast and dangling tongue
What heaven in a girl so young!
Your beauty now is crowned with luck
His love shown by a family ******** wish for you now, if I may:
Happy Molestation Day!

Tell it as a gossip column
As a last will and testament
As an exhibit at Ripley’s Believe It Or Not.

Am I making this up as an excuse to hate him?
If I falsely accuse him, I’d never forgive myself.

Tell it as a soap opera
As a telephone answering machine
Message.
Tell it as a board game:

“Snake eyes. Damn it, I rolled snake eyes.”

“Ha ha. You get molested by your twin
brother. Your nightmare quotient goes
up 60%, your therapy sentence up
three years, and your sexuality goes into
the shop for repairs.”

“Hey, give me that marker! I can put my
own sexuality in the shop!”

“Ok, my turn now. Three. One, two,
three. All right! ‘Doctor Feminist’!

“Pick a card”

“’You go to a three day workshop
where you cry, talk about why you cried,
and talk about why you talked about
why you cried. Take 6 months of
therapy off your sentence.’ All right!”

“How come you get all the good ones?
My turn.”

Tell it as a how-to book
As a newscast
As instructions on the box it came in.

Why do the muscles in my v****a tighten
When I hear him name?

Tell it as a fairy tale
As a magic trick.
Tell it as of this moment:

Kissing your lips is like walking into a lush
Garden. I watch each emotion bud within
Your dark eyes.

Your palms engulf my breasts, your fingernails
Cruise across my belly. We rock until
You lie on top of me. You press you knee
Against my c**t, whisper ‘I want you baby’,
And suddenly you become him. You are
Pinning me down, holding me so tight I cannot
Breathe. You are pushing your p***k inside me,
Insisting I want it. I wrestle with your body and
With the voice inside my head saying ‘calm
Down. This is different: You want to be here.’
‘Hey, where are you, you ask. What happened.’
My eyes clearly describe to you the
fear my mouth cannot speak. You sigh and
hold me gently. Finally, I cry.

Tell it as a healing ritual
As an epitaph
As discovered and interpreted seven
Generations from now.

Maybe my family named me The One Who
Remembers so they could believe that
Anything that I don’t remember didn’t
Happen.

Tell it as a map of the world
As if it were still forbidden to speak the words.

My father molested me as a child.

Tell it so it will never happen again.

Sick

I am sick and tiered,
I hate life,
I hate home,
I hate everyone.
This world is so mean and cruel,
to me,
to you,
to everyone.
I am sick of it!
Let them burn,
Let them suffer,
I dont care Im tougher!
I dont care.
Its not me,
Im not cruel,
Im not mean,
Im not anything like it!
So get off my case,
Quit blaming me,
Leave me alone!
You might hear it a lot from me,
But you ignore it,
Now "Im for real" as you say.
It makes me sick,
You make me sick,
So sick I can throw up all over you,
So dont think Im playing,
Cause Im not.
You make me suffer,
You dont care,
Well, FINE!
Im Sick.
Sick of falling,
Sick of hurting,
Sick of it all!
I burn and suffer while falling,
Falling from the sky.
It doesnt matter,
It does hurts,
It does burn,
I do suffer...
From you.
Hn...
Like Ill care,
Which you fortunately dont...

Time

As time goes by,
I slowly walk,
It goes too fast,
It steals lives,
And yet makes new ones.
From the time I was born,
I was born into a world of tears,
For time just rushed by,
As it always does.
But it did not care for me,
As time flew by eager of the future,
I stood still,
Going against it,
But it won.
I was born into a world of tears,
Sorrow filled my life,
Time was the one that brought depression when I was 10,
And time has made sure it still lingers there.
Time is my enemy,
Time is against me.
And it still is.
I was born in a world of tears,
Sorrow filled life,
Depression is my emotion,
Loneliness my personality,
Until time fast forwards to the day,
The day that will change me,
My life,
If time will let me see that day.
For that day in time has not come,
And since time has striped me of hope and all good,
I doubt that day will come...
For time was, is, and always will be my enemy...

Cold

I lay on the ground,
Laying there like a mound.
Depression has taken over me,
Its blinded me for all i can see.
Because of you my heart turned to ice,
No, no, im not nice.
Thanks alot,
Youve surly done your part,
Not.
I hear the fight on the street,
I was the one you beat.
The war out side my door,
Im still laying on the floor.
Not moving an inch,
Not even a flinch.
Youd think id died wide eyed,
But no,
I havent,
Not yet.
Hope your happy now,
Youve treated me worse than a cow.
Thanks to you im dead,
My body colder than lead...
My skin paler than white,
Too scared from fright.
Now youve done your crime,
I had to do the time.