Maybe this was the contract between your highest self and your, he was pushing you to overcome fears to stand up for your self to be angry to the point that you don't care anymore, and love your self 🫶🫀🫂🪄
Inside his fist fits into my stomach. Knots that I take home to unwind.
Bully punches. I turn cheek. He stops to wonder why. Takes two to fight. He leaves me alone. Inside he festers. Unhappy, whereas I’m happy, and live for many more reasons. Known a few bullies. They are all the same. I think someone hurt them more than they think.
Oh, what a poem. One of my sons started at a new school a year ago, and it was like he had a bully assigned to him from the first day. It's so horrible. (Thankfully, the bully left him alone after the teachers got alerted, but I know it's not always resolved so easily.)
Thanks Margaret. I’m so sorry about what happened to your son. Sounds to me a sort of hazing was going on. At least something was done. In my day, it was laissez-faire. We were on our own. Best.
Interesting association, Carolyn! Think you’ve got something there. Thanks!
Loved the rhythm of this poem. I felt like the poem was bullying me, but in a good way
Great comment! Thanks, Rolando!
Maybe this was the contract between your highest self and your, he was pushing you to overcome fears to stand up for your self to be angry to the point that you don't care anymore, and love your self 🫶🫀🫂🪄
I appreciate your insight and care, 3 roses!
The rhythm, rhyming, and slow dread. This is terrific!
Thank you, Dian!
Well written...
and sadly too common.
Hey - his name wasn't Donald, was it???
Dave
Ha! Well, here in Canada, we are definitely feeling it. Intimidation level ramping up. Thanks, David.
Rhythmically faltering poetry deepens the experience the poet shares. Subtle, yet deep. Making visible what is invisible. Thanks, Man of Aran!
Thank you, Lilija!
I feel this one! Such a clear portrait of your bully (the coward).
And of you, Alan 💛
Appreciate it, Ann. Thank you for your words.
Inside his fist fits into my stomach. Knots that I take home to unwind.
Bully punches. I turn cheek. He stops to wonder why. Takes two to fight. He leaves me alone. Inside he festers. Unhappy, whereas I’m happy, and live for many more reasons. Known a few bullies. They are all the same. I think someone hurt them more than they think.
Definitely true. I’ve written on the subject elsewhere. Hurt people hurt people. Thanks, Richard.
This is so powerful. So raw and so well done.
Very glad to hear that, LeeAnn! Thanks.
Oh, what a poem. One of my sons started at a new school a year ago, and it was like he had a bully assigned to him from the first day. It's so horrible. (Thankfully, the bully left him alone after the teachers got alerted, but I know it's not always resolved so easily.)
Thanks Margaret. I’m so sorry about what happened to your son. Sounds to me a sort of hazing was going on. At least something was done. In my day, it was laissez-faire. We were on our own. Best.