To the woman...

He was a hero in silver armor,
driving the abusive man away,
save for the brusies, she was safe
save for the house, it was okay
He wore a golden buckle
and she didn't know what to say
when he presented her a ring
and asked if he could stay

To the child...

He was a villain in silver armor,
driving his loving father away,
save for the crying, he had a hug
save for the mom's brusies, he'd behave
He wore a golden buckle
that reflected anger he just couldn't stave
and when his mom happily showed him a ring
he decided to run away

My queen, I know you may feel unfurnished, worn out, and unclothed but believe me mama you shine brighter than gold. I've seen you hurt, and nothing will ever compare to the tears you've shed, all those late nights in your bed.. All those brusies and scars feel like they'll never go away, still forced to be locked on a soul that should no longer be attached.. But, your mind has it like it's a latch. He hit you, and nothing compared to it. You feel hurt and unable to get away from it.
My queen, light skinned and round, have you smiled yet? You look tired, and haven't laughed yet.. Your beauty shines, something that hasn't left, still there and irreplaceable, no one can beat that.. Hustling for the rent and all your babies realize it too. One day I'm going to take care of you. Because mama, I love you.

You hurt me everytime im with you. Everyday I stay is another day in in Hell, but I will never pack my bags and leave you. People will ask about the brusies, but I will never turn you  in. No matter what you need me to do, I will never turn away. No matter how bad you hurt me. I will always be by your side. Don't you worry about me leaving. I will always be here with you.

Is where my brother lays his head
Maybe once a month or when ever he's sick
One of three
Lays in a white bed with a white sheet
Called a A Hospital bed
He's the strongest one of our messed up family
The baby of the Sum of Three
I think about him often
Wonder why but fail to understand
How it's not fair to see someone you love laying there
Slowly dying when there are others should be where he is laying
The brusies will fade from the needle jab, I.V. bags
I just don't understand in a world that can be so cruel
Why this is happening to you.
Lover of Jokes, Lover of Animals, Lover of people
and so open hearted How your dreams can't come true
When the medicine they give to heal you You said feels like firey acid inside of you
You're the strongest piece of a broken whole
As the oldest I want to do more
Wanting to help you endure
Fate is never in my favor
But I waiver my attention from you
I am sorry
If I could stop the hands of time and press rewind
Maybe things could be different
Maybe I could be there with you
I just want you to know that I love you

Hear me when I say this

I can never go back to that place

The walls are covered with carvings made with fingernails
Covered in dents and brusies scars of battles its won.

I can never go back into that place

The hinges never stay slient even when the door is closed
They only speak in taunts spinning lies and hateful truths.

The floor is covered with tears
Blood
and memories that never saw light.

I can never go back into that place.
You cant make me.

Just look at me...
I'm a mess!!
I got cuts, scars and brusies on me...
I ruined myself with ***
I used to be very smart
Then eveything I achieved just went down the drain
And here I am today thinking of death lane
I wished I was dead
Burried deep in the ground
I'm no longer happy
I'm just allways down
My grades are falling by day
I'm just passing highschool by a string of thread
Now I drink alchol just to pass time
I'm not even living
I'm just wasting time
I don't want to fall in love
To be cared for when I'm old
To have a husband and kids to make me happy and bold
I say these things cause I'm passed the point of going back
It's too late for me
Too late

Is there a cure for the burn that your fingertips left when they traced my skin? Is there a bandage that will heal or at least hide the brusies that your grasp left on my heart?

He Was
Hanged
In The
Prison
He Fought
For
His Life
Stood
There
In
Hopelessness
In The
Dark
Crying
For His
Life
He Was
In Brusies
In Cuts
Which
Led
To Blood
Dripping,
Chained
In The Air
Perfumed
The
Prison Bars
He
So
Called
Home
He
Always
Was
In The
Mist
In Hopelessness
In Desolation
With His
Wings
They Traveled
Then
Stabbed
And Hanged
From This
Day
Tears
Of A
Numbed
Wolf
With His
Tears
Hanged
In The
Very
Prison
Air
Of Despair
Written
In Stone
Was His
Blood
In The
Precious
Arms
Of A Prison
{Victory}
~[Paris Styron~]

I want you to want me. But I don't want it blindly, or full of grandiosity.
I am willing to work for you. To build something new... if that's what you want to do. At times my ideas are a childish. It's a defect that I can admit. But honestly, I've grown a bit. Sometimes I want to question your motives, and mentally wrestle what my role is. However, I know that behavior is erosive. Sometimes I want to ask if you're just playing, if your language is crafted or just what you're saying. However, that's a game of shaming . I won't let my insecurities cause this to ruin. Because I don't want your golden token. I really just crave your human. I want you to show me your brusies and scars, up close and personal, not from afar. And in my mind, write your memoirs.

i havent felt this before
the pain, the thought they take over my head
i never knew this before
i know how she feels now
i never knew before
i dont and tired
my head hurts and i have brusies
my scars the was to be fresh
but i dont want to open them
they are healed
time may heal but memories will never be forgotten

The castle of his dreams,
Erected on an illusive plinth,
Designed by the deceptions of love
Was struck by a bolt inauspicious.
The calamity reduced his castle to a debris
And squeezed every drop of jubilation
Out of his audacious heart.
His life is now brimmed with
The shades of unspeakable grief;
With his every faculty choked,
He resolved to vent his horrors
On a sheet of untainted paper.
He fueled his pen with the blood of his veins
And scribble some aching elegies
In memory of his mortified love
And in anticipation of lasting respite.
But to his plight, Aah!
The malevolent world of lovers,
Drenched in their own pangs,
Haunt solace in the beauty of his verses.
The maimed lover displays to the world,
The brusies of his punctured heart,
The world hurls back praises galore
For his unique styles and screeching verses.

© Badee Uz Zaman