I got flowers today. It wasn't my birthday or any special day. We had our first argument last night, and he said a lot of cruel things that really hurt me. I know he is sorry and didn't mean the things he said because  I got flowers today.

I got flowers today, it wasn't our anniversary or any other special day. Last night, he threw me into a wall and started to choke me. It seemed like a nightmare. I couldn't believe it was real. I woke up this morning sore and bruised all over. I know he must be sorry, because he sent me flowers today.

I got flowers today, it wasn't Mother's Day or any other special day. Last night, he beat me up again. It was much worse than all the other times. If I leave him, what will I do? How will I take care of the kids?  What about money? I'm afraid of him and scared to leave. But I know he must be sorry, because he sent me flowers today.

I got flowers today. Today was a very special day. Today was the day of my funeral. Last night, he finally killed me. He beat me to death. If only I gathered enough courage and strength to leave him. I would not have gotten flowers today.

So the doctor said her foot
Was broken.
Yes, I like a woman tough,
But it's been two months
Since it started hurting.
Suppose few things are as
Subjective as pain.

I rub my right hand when it's
Cold. The one I crushed
Between two containers.
Crane driver was still
Drunk from breakfast;  
Suppose few things are as
Subjective as responsibility.

We're all scars. Broken bones
And bruised hearts.
Embarrasing memories and
Bitten bullets.
Walking on broken feet until
They heal.

Suppose few things are as
Subjective as
Growth.

Women are angels
If someone breaks our wings
We will simply continue to fly...
on a broomstick.
We're flexible like that.

I'm a problem child
Unraised, but somehow grown
Returning every night
To a broken home
Where fists were mouths
So words broke bones
But somewhere within
A metamorphosis took place
And I took off
Left without a trace
So my scars
Could finally be erased
Now I'm sleeping on benches
Got nowhere I belong
Not looking for a home
I never stay anywhere long
I'm always on the move
Running away from what's wrong
Now I'm beggin the question
Is broken better than alone?

I noticed how freaked out they got
when that couple kissed in sight
or smiled just a little too wide
into each others’ adoring eyes
and it felt like compressed air
too many soggy molecules
packed into fleeting cold stares
because god forbid you be happy
and *you don’t get to have love
when I can barely sleep at night
because my silly ******* job
keeps me from what I really want
and I am always the depressed wolf
who gave up on finding meaning
from this **** storm we call life
so please, “get a ******* room”
you stupid storybook happy people
I don’t want you to remind me
that I used to want to care
or that my thoughts used to have
resemblance of a child’s wish list
just get out of our deteriorating lives
don’t ******* come here again
with your stupid storybook ****.