Experiences into words

BAM!
one word and your out
words are bullets
when they say, "sticks and stones don't break my bones but, words can,"
they mean it
i mean really mean it
because words are bullets
and when the emotions are pulled it triggers
derogatory words strung into sentences of evil intent
that taint our own existences
slowly bleeding us out of innocence and purity

-hot pot writer

when my father died

When I was a young girl
innocent and wide eyed
unknown of the twisted, dark world that was masked of light and glory
I thought that everyone was equal
and we no longer knew what racism was
and the idea of injustice ruling the world seemed
ridiculous to me
but, as i grew older and the world slowly revealed itself
i learned that it wasn't all what it seemed
but there was still horror that haunted the surroundings we live in
and i never knew the very people who were supposed to shield us from
danger
would shoot us because of our color
and i never knew that numbers would define our being in this world instead of our
souls
i wasn't aware that we were still perpetuating the sins from the past
and, this wasn't the world when i was young filled with dreams and delight
but the, harsh world that unraveled itself from its ball of lies and I'm left in despair
because I'm scared
scared of the horror this world became

- hot pot writer

9:12 P.M 8/19/2015

I'm attempting to write words on this dusty notebook of my emotions. Emotions of confusion, anger, sadness its all coming too fast and my hands could only record so much. And as my feelings increase I still can't string the right words together to talk about this. About you and you, you, you is the only thing that can really describe what I'm feeling because its about you.

Drip, drop, drip goes my tears and they're soaking up the page making my words blurred, like what I'm feeling. This writing piece is a mess because, I still can't seem to think of the right sentences, metaphors, hyperboles to match this situation because I can't control anything and my hand is shaking way too much because words are turning into scratches.

And I guess this is what I can make of as of now when words are taken from me. But that's okay.

- Hot Pot Writer

I don't really know what to write on this tear soaked page
Except for sad melodies about the way you made me swoon
and still do 
But, that's okay because perhaps, if I can't have you within my grasp my
words can create the presence of you
So I'll write melodies no, works of love to bring you back
Bring you here
with me

- Hot Pot Writer