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I picked up lying at my mothers knee
She would spit them out onto the floor
I would scramble to pick them all up
I needed to hold them close to me
Because there's some truth in there
I just have to find it
Blood worked for forgiveness
Riddled with gaping red wounds
I always had enough for everyone to take  
Empty worked for everything else
Being a good liar is knowing
how almost true will win every time
It's knowing how to say anything
that will get you through
this next one moment
I picked up lying at my mothers knee

-

-It will always be the most useful thing she has ever taught me
-
you relearn coming home

-

You find out how it tastes different
From when you were a little girl
(It’s far less rust tinged these days)

You name everything inside of you
anger or shame
So you never have to look to closely at the hurt
(It's mostly pretending you are something other than empty)

You relearn steady in chaos
you can still patch up
****** gaping holes with shaking hands
Lies leave your mouth faster
Than anyone has time to get the safety off

You relearn two faced
that one you never really let go of
it feels the same as it always did
Like a party trick you could never stop preforming
because it isn’t one
You know liar
The game is you are almost always
Telling a truth



-  What does learning to come home mean; why is it the first place you learn to run from
Elizabethanne Jun 15
How do I  
keep the weight of family
From crushing me whole

How do you
keep blood and duty
Running through your veins
And not spilling out
onto the floor every chance you get

How do I
keep everything inside me
When I’ve never wanted anything more
Than to slip out of this skin and
into the night

- I keep these scars because you asked me to hold on to them for you
Elizabethanne Oct 2019
His love was built like religion
Thousands of years in the making
(He burnt witches just because he could)
He strung up every girl that he once claimed he loved
( he called them liars and *******)
He swore consent like he was pledging allegiance
To his father and his father before him
( his brand of love built on a system of blind eyes)
We will try to take him to court
Try to show the people
( The bruises. The aching. The nightmares. The empty)
Tangible without a doubt proof
That he broke into us and stole things
But
He has been playing (and winning) this game
A lot longer than we’ve been fighting
His love was built like religion
So
Excuses are made
"Boys will be boys"
And we pray to a system
That has always been in his back pocket


- We will haunt this church of injustice until it is nothing more than a ghost story
Elizabethanne Oct 2019
I have sat across
From the love of my life
So many times
That I have lost count
Of all the pieces of heart that I have given
But never gotten back

I have given everything
That I had even when I knew
I would need it for myself
I have put so many hopes and dreams
On other peoples shoulders
Because I thought
We were both carrying the weight
Only to be left with it all

I have let in
And loved people
I had no business doing either
Set up shop and said
"I am here to stay even if you do not want me."
Because I never learned how to love
without giving every single inch of myself

I have made myself
Easy to leave
Small and quiet
I have made myself
A home
A body for one night
A graveyard
Where I let you
lay to rest everything that haunts you
And let it hurt me instead

I have sat across
From the love of my life
So many times
That I have lost sense
Of what love really is anymore

- What does love look like
Elizabethanne Oct 2019
**** the heart
(or was it the hurt)
I need to borrow your spine
Mine is buried in my closet
I have fracture patterns etched into my skin
In the shape of your knuckles
the blue carpet in the living room is worn down
Two spots where my knees fit perfectly
Because praying to god felt a lot like having control back
**** the hurt
(or was it my heart)
The first time I wrote out your name
My hands shook so badly
Because I was always told
names have power
I wasn’t sure if I would survive you having anymore over me
I need to borrow your spine
mine buried 6 feet deep
I have the taste of ash on my tongue
You lit everything on fire
And watched it burn and burn
when I woke up in the burnt out shell of house and body
I knew I only had three things left to do
**** the heart, **** the hurt, and bury the spine
Survive
Survive
Survive
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