i let it curl around me
it nestles between my bones
i forget to breath
it doesnt remind me
it likes the stillness
it likes the quite
my breath is loud
rattling the bones
it calls home

i let it lick my wounds
it sinks deep into them
i heal quick
before it has a chance
to slither back out
the wound is closed
but its still wriggling

every time i take
a deep breath
it shakes in distress
trying to shush me
through scared skin
every word i speak
it tries to squeeze back in
confined to one part of me
it has no hold
but to remind me of
old wounds
with that ever hollow
wriggling feeling

it doesn't take much
to be a true friend

it doesn't take years
to do something right

it doesn't take much strength
to reach out and help

it does take a real villian
to hurt those who care

it takes vile crudeness
to make one feel dead


or long to be

“Why did you stay?”

That’s always the first words out of everyone’s mouth… including my mothers.  
They act as if you realize that it’s an act of treacherous hatred while you’re lying on the floor.
They don’t see the look in his eyes when he tells you
“I’m so sorry, it will never happen again. I love you so much.”…
  They don’t feel his warm embrace he gives you while you’re trying to cover your bruises with makeup.
They don’t feel the isolation while you’re at home thinking of who you can go to.
They don’t feel the denial as your brain tells itself “All couples fight… its normal.”
They didn’t feel the gut wrenching pain in your stomach when you watched him with tears in his eyes as you finally found the strength to go.
And the first thing out of their mouths is… “Why did you stay?”