I DON'T GET IT
EVERYONE SITS IN THEIR OWN SILENCE
DAYDREAMING ABOUT A DIFFERENT DAY
WHEN THE HOUSE IS SLOWLY BURNING
EVERYTHING IS BECOMING FLAMES
NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU TRY TO
BUY MY AFFECTION
NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU
APOLOGIZE
IT WON'T MATTER WHEN THERE’S NOTHING LEFT
BUT A BURNT DOORWAY AND A DEAD MARRIAGE
THE END TO A LONG BOOK FOR THEM
THE END TO THE BIGGEST CHAPTER IN MINE
HOW DO THEY EXPECT ME TO STAY STILL
WAIT PATIENTLY FOR EVERYTHING TO
DISINTEGRATE AND TURN INTO NOTHING
WITH A ******* SMILE LIKE ITS ALL A LIE
A JOKE WITH NO PUNCHLINE
I REFUSE TO BE THE RAG DOLL
IN A FIGHT BETWEEN MY OLD IDOLS
THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS PICKING SIDES
MAMA THROW OUT THE GUN
YOU'RE NOT SURE HOW UGLY HE'LL BECOME
DAD DON'T ALWAYS KEEP SILENT
YOU'LL BREAK ONE DAY UNDER ALL THE WEIGHT
I'LL BE OKAY DON'T WORRY ABOUT ME
BUT PLEASE DON'T PRETEND ALL OF THIS IS NOT BURNING
YOU CAN'T TELL ME ABOUT THE LAWYERS
AND THEN ACT LIKE YOU NEVER SAID A WORD
I DON'T WANT YOU TO SAY YOU'RE MOVING TO ANOTHER PLACE
BUT NOT LOOK AT ME FOR FOUR DAYS
MARRIAGE WAS SUPPOSE TO BE SACRED
THAT'S AT LEAST WHAT YOU TOLD ME
THE DAY MY SISTER ELOPED WITH HER BOYFRIEND
SAVE YOURSELF FOR THE RIGHT MAN
WAS EVERYTHING YOU REPEATED FOR EIGHT DAYS
AFTER I ENTERED MY FIRST RELATIONSHIP
BUT NOW THE WEDDING CHINA
IS NOWHERE TO BE FOUND
SOMEONES CLOTHES REST IN ANOTHER CLOSET
I'M BEING LEFT BEHIND
IN THE ASHES AND RUBBLE
OF MY CHILDHOOD LIFE
THERE'S NOTHING THAT I CAN DO TO STOP IT
YOU TWO WILL NO LONGER BE ONE
BUT I WILL ALWAYS BE YOUR DAUGHTER
MAYBE IN THE FUTURE I'LL UNDERSTAND
WHAT YOU MEAN WHEN YOU SAY YOU'RE BOTH MARTYRS

Before reading this I want people to know that I have never been *****.
I got the inspiration for this poem from a post on tumblr.*

One
After the first time he put his hands on her
she never thought she'd be able to escape the grasp of the feeling
she stayed up till 3:41 in the morning in the bathtub
sitting in the scalding water
trying to burn the dirt from her skin.
she sat there until the water turned cold
and she had not one tear left to cry
and until her skin was rubbed raw and bleeding.
she counted the bruises on her body
9 on her stomach
1 on her face
1 on her neck
a yellow and purple necklace around her collar
from the telephone wire he abused
from the telephone she didn't dare use
even after he finished manipulating her.
she scrubbed his fingers from her hair
but decided cutting it off would be easier
she washed his yelling voice from her ears
but found that screaming made him quieter
she scraped his taste from her lips
a dry martini
a cigarette
and someones tears from the past.
she couldn't scrub her wrists hard enough
to erase the feeling of the ropes he had her anchored with
so instead she sliced the flesh of where the imprint lay
attempting to release the strain from the burn marks on her skin.

Two
That same morning when she almost bled out
she checked herself into a hospital.
They sewed up the crimson bracelets she made
trapping inside of her wrists
each scream he muffled
with every new stitch.
she guessed they figured out what happened
whether it was the bruises
or the way her speech sounded like morse code but
they told her the police were informed
and that they'd do everything in their power to find monster
who opened the door to her own personal hell.
When the sketch artist asked her to describe him
she told her he was a photocopy
the regular John Doe
medium hight
brown hair brown eyes
nothing special or unique that would make a girl cross to the other side of the street
just like she said she should have done.
When they told her she needed to be inspected
she didn't even flinch
that seemed to be the only thing that people did these days
was inspect one another for an outcome that they'll be paid for
in paychecks or pleasure.
They stripped her down
apologizing for the cold
they took pictures
apologizing for the flash
they held her hand
apologizing for the feeling
but why apologize if he already imprinted it on her body
there's no going back from this
she will never be able to look at a man the same way again
she will always see cold hard hands on her shoulders
even at the warmest touch
she will only see flashes of his lips forced onto hers
when she receives the smallest peck
she will never be able to feel anything but a mattress beneath her back
rope around her wrists
and a freezing cold emptiness inside of her stomach.

Three
After the second time he put his hands on her
she stayed up all night in the freezing cold water
not even trying to remove his mark from her.
she figured that if the dirt beneath his fingernails were still there the second time
the dirt would still be on her too.
she let the filth engulf her
telling herself that all she was was dirt anyway
and as she lay with her head underwater
she screamed as loud as she could
for as long as she could
until her face was red
her voice was scratchy
till the veins in her neck pulsed
and when she finally sat up she was deafened by a deep silence
with no more sound than rippling water and the ticking of the clock.
That's when she realized that no matter how loud she screamed
she would never be heard amongst other peoples silences.
silences full of beeping cars and TV commercials
buzzing air conditioners and clinking plates
quite whispers and loud laughs
full of family and friends and the whole world spinning around them.
she would never matter to anyone
no brakes would squeal at the sound of her desperation
no ears would turn to decipher the morse code she mustered shakily from her lips
no one would ever care that her screams for help were muffled
and no one would have a hole in their stomach if she disappeared.
at this thought
she slipped deeper into the tub
unwraps the bandages from around both her wrists
uncovering scars that would never heal.
She explored the wounds with her fingers
and saw how weak the stitching was
like the nurse who repaired her found it pointless
and attempted it half heartedly.
She discovered that pulling the dark material that was woven through her flesh
would release her blood
like opening a door to another universe.
the purple would quickly turn to red
drop slowly into the tub
creating a water color painting of the war inside her head.
She pinched the strings holding the two parts of her together
******* their rough surface
she began to feel tired
dreaming of a happier place
of a happier her
of feeling like a person again.
she pinched the string
and pulled.
hard.

I went on a bike ride down to the shore
I could talk about how the sand didn’t compare
to you soft skin anymore
Or how I’ve never seen the sky so clear it seemed like
they knew I was thinking of you
I could go on and on about how the children’s laughter
paled in contrast to yours
But thats only half true
You see the sand looked soft, but when you go too close
It just clung onto your every touch
And though the sky was clear the blue color only
reminded me of the way I turned around here
Children’s laughter seemed so dim in contrast to
your overbearing loud shouts
Though the wind felt good running through my hair
it lasted shortly before I felt like it was choking me now
the faster I went, the more it tried to pull me down
Yes, everything reminded me of you and why I left
to be by myself