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Come Here When You Need Me

A series of poems tackling the mind of their trauma and the thoughts that linger at night.

Written by Anonymous


It wasn’t until she was alone in her living room

That he realized it doesn’t go away that easily

To be in deep with her thoughts and come across her demon again

Just as he thought that the gate was once closed

She faces the gate wide open and must walk through the long path again

With no hand to hold

And no light to guide

He is blinded by his own disguise

With the screeches getting louder, she flinches every step

Like the thorn on the rose

Something may seem so beautiful but with every stroke

The blood dripping from the thorn is the same that has kept us torn

The pain is endless, although it seems to stop

You and I both know

That alone in our living room

The gate had never been fully closed


Engagement comes first, then comes marriage

Long white road up ahead

Smiling and crying figures

Next to me is an angel

Angel you may presume Him

But that was once a demon I had overcame

I continue to overcome

Life choices coming at me


Certain ones a Mother can’t answer

Who do I then ask to walk me down the aisle

Who do I then ask for a dance

A figure I once presumed as my Savior

Is now a figure I playback in my nightmares

Was he meant for me?

Will you threaten him when I bring him home?

Will you remind him of your protection?


At how shiny my ring is

He’s the one, I know it

But how can I be reassured if you aren’t there to tell me


I will continue to dream of the demon I’m overcoming to walk me down the aisle

At my big fat wedding

Daddy’s Little Girl

Daddy’s little girl ran into his arms

when he came back from work. Her body embraced instead of rejected.

Her protection- his priority until she begins to grow up.

Daddy’s little girl was once writing this poem.

Daddy’s little girl was neither little nor girl.

Seen as an independent woman too young

to be abandoned. To grow stronger.

To be sacrificed to depression when things go awry

in the face of self-esteem. When dad first left

little girl had her mother.

Dad left again and she still had her mother. She refuses

to cry with her. Hiding in the bathroom with the other

daddy’s little girls. They offered the love of their dads she didn’t

ask for. She mocks me for believing he will come back. I stopped

believing for her but my words continue to believe the way they were born to.

Daddy’s little girl next door is praising the car he got her

to the little girl who was never taught to drive.

The other little girl is my sister, she is still her daddy’s little girl.

The next little girl is waiting for her father to call back as he promised.

Sitting on the couch. Waiting for the sound of the phone to ring

so that she is first to answer. Trying to contain her excitement

while she is still whole. 4 years later, she is still waiting.

I feel alone

I hide my feelings well but am I at fault for wondering that if my loved ones really knew me,

they will know…

I look outside my window from the ninth floor

It's all a mirage

Hundreds of windows

Full of stories

I wonder who else is looking at the bright red hotel sign


How did we get here?

I expect too much from others

For them to check up on me

Tell me they love me for no reason

Just one time where I don't have to feel that I need to take the first step to feel loved

I guess you can say I'm at fault

I am always at fault

I'm a villain in your stories

I'm a nuisance in your tales

My image precedes me

I wonder who I am to you, my dear reader

I am just a mere imagination of what you have heard of me

And although I am what I am

I hide what I hide

And I act how I act

I still lay up at night, soaking my pillow sheets


Do you really know me?

Am I really loved?


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