Faith

Faith Feb 2014

7:14

It's 7:14.
Seven plus seven is fourteen.
Why do I notice the little things like this?

They drive me insane,
but I'm constantly finding them.
You used to do the same thing.

Faith Feb 2014

Master

I watch the world from under your body.
I listen to the music from inside of your ears.
Your smile is the rhyme in my words.

Faith Feb 2014

Silent conversation

He taps his fingers on his steering wheel,
and his dark eyes find my own.
He widens his smile,
and I notice how his teeth are beginning to rot.

Too much smoke.
Too much *******.

He grabs my hair;
he yanks it hard.
I know what's in store.

Faith Feb 2014

Fragile

Her face is strong,
but her hands are giving way.
She refuses to cry towards me.

Faith Feb 2014

"I call myself a *******"

He said I was his muse; I'm beautiful to him.
He wrote songs about me.
"Your wings fly higher than anyone else's"

I was his prized possession.
However, in time, I learned that with possession.. came obsession.
"I don't agree." he'd say.
"You can't do that.." he urged.
"******* quit. Now!" he commanded.

The first hit was the worst. I remember the bruise vividly.
It was purple, and I craved for more.
I didn't want to believe it was abuse.

My shoulders began to slump, and the bruises were getting harder to hide.
I felt his fists slam into me over and over again.
I didn't leave.

I watched my lips, knuckles, and nose bleed for you;
I let my skin bruise for you.
You fed me so many lied, and it only made me more hungry.

They think I'm ****** up because of you..
"You only crave pain, because you're repressing your memory of...him."

I found my wings on your side of the bed. I found my box of letter under it. I found my heart in your hands, and my pride in your smile.

Faith Feb 2014

Trailer of ******

He begs me to drop to his level,
to be marked by his beast.
By the way he holds me hand,
I'm encouraged to do so, at least.

"Baby, you're the best."
I hear him moan down to me.
I do not as much to respond to this.
How could I with a mouthful of sins?

His hands grabs fist fulls of my hair,
as if it were his own.
"Look up at me, girl!"
he forces my chin up to him.

I feel one single tear slide down my cheek.
He wiped it up with his thumb,
and flicked it away.
Just like he will do with me.

I brought my eyes back down,
and finished my job.
He threw me a wicked glance,
and turned to walk away.

'I'm degrading,' I thought.
"You're the best." I can hear him saying.

Faith Feb 2014

Special.

I always hear that I'm special. You always wanted me to be "special." I could open up my veins for you, and you would still spit out rusty compliments.
I'd bite my nails off because you hated them more than you hated yourself. You'd take me on endless journeys that always led back to your ****** up dreams. I was the key to the box you couldn't open. I was the grasp you couldn't get on reality.
You told me you loved the way I got goosebumps whenever you played with my hair. You said the glint in my eyes when I saw you was mesmerizing.
Goosebumps turned into bruises.
Glints turned into winces.
I found the letters I wrote you in your eyes. I found my heart in your hands. I found my pride in your smile.