people_don’t_*YELL*?

people_don’t_*YELL*?

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Bosses don’t… YELL?!?…

No, they don’t and they shouldn’t. When/if they cannot control their temper and when interactions become so heated that they reach out and slap you with their words by way of their yelling, it’s considered abuse. It’s highly sensitive, it’s highly emotional, it may even be understandable when sHE becomes HEated, and it’s?

Abuse.

It is.

It always will be.

Period.

End of story.

but wait…

 

Dear Sirs,

or madams,

Who? YELL,

You are abusive

I tried to tell “you”

I tried to meditate with “you”

I tried to be quiet and listen

I even tried to tell “you” to stop

I told you yelling was UNHEALTHY

I told you in all the ways

I could remember to tell

and

In my own way,

I tried to stop you

BUT

You didn’t know how to…

Non-violently communicate

YOU didn’t know how to…

Listen….

&_Now…

 

I AM A

VICTIM…

again…

again..

again?

OF?

ABUSIVE?

Sons & Daughters

Who were?

Absued.

Absuit

Abused.

Abusers.

Bullies.

Mean boys

Mean girls

I AM A

VICTIM…

again…

again..

again?

OF?

ABUSE!

 

Steph_JobS

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~Steph Bird

Who let You go?

Who let me go?

Who let You go?

I feel it inside. Down in my Soul. I just can’t hide these things I know. We could be friends, and I promise that it won’t go bad. But hopefully this story ends with Me doing OK. It’s OK, I ain’t got nothing I never had, so let’s take it slow.

Who let me go?

EveryOne. At one time or another. Everyone.

Someone must have loved me, not the way that You do I’m sure, but you are missing what I am trying to say. Ain’t nothing going getting in my way.

So tell me that’s fantastic?

And promise you’ll always *sigh*. I find it so romantic when you look into my beautiful eyes and lose control.

Who let me go?

No One.

No one needs to, that’s all you can do. Is wait and not fall asleep. Don’t let anyone know you are coming and simmer down, letting your eyes hang low. Sit in meditation and look for…

the next? job.

 

#identity_THIEFS#

#identity_THIEFS#

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It’s 4am again and here I am, writing to You live from…where am I again?

In any case, there’s something about privacy and security that I care very little to try and keep safe or sacred. I’m told that I should protect my privacy and even my identity and assigned number, but removing every piece of data about “me” from every picture, post and expression would also remove this peace of mind that I already feel. A peace that surpasses all understanding, I am safe.

I am safe, I am safe,

and I am a safe person.

<Repeat, repeat, repeat.>

Do you remember when we were kids and we played games with “safe” zones? When there were places within the game that you couldn’t get “out” or “killed”? I want to live in one of those safe zones as an adult too. I even want to be a walking “safe” zone, and because I can guarantee you that I’m usually the first monkey to speak up, push back, take you outside if I need to, then spank you with my bare hands as you run home to Mommy or Daddy to tell them that someone didn’t play fair.

Fair.. is also recognizing that lately, I need a “vacation” from my regularly scheduled programming of a life. I’m tired inside, I feel fairly hollow and almost empty. I’ve been writing to You for all these years, but I’m not sure why anymore because you never write back.

There’s very little to live or fight for here on Earth, and when men whom I’ve never met send me messages like the one above, there is at least a moment where I get scared for my life and physically worry for my own safety. I fear my life in a legitimate way, and that’s not 100% my fault either.

What do I do with all these fears?

I ? close the windows, lock my doors at night, then crawl into bed and curl up into a ball alone to cry my fears to the God of my understanding. Hoping, above all hopes, that tomorrow I will wake up and the Earth will be a “better” place than it was the night before. Sadly, the world is never “better” than it was the night before and instead, it gets darker and heavier as the days ware on…

It was never the God of “your understanding” or a human who will “save me” from this fear now, my future life or my past. It was never a human who will “kill me” either. Instead, it was simply me, alone, who made this mess of a skin. One that hopes someday, I will feel “safe” again in this suit…

I am safe, I am safe,

and I am a safe person.

<Repeat, repeat, repeat.>

~Steph Bird

p.s. If I suddenly can’t be found and my friends/family have no idea where I went? Roger Davidson from Florida(?) ‘rogerd327’ wrote the above (and yeah, I’m legitimately a little scared that someone I’ve never met is “claiming me”, but a man’s gotta be able to express himself as a hunter too, I suppose…).

I am safe, I am safe,

and I am a safe person.

<Repeat, repeat, repeat.>