the house of pain
the sadness got accumulated in there where the feelings got translated To few letters awash with tear drops .
tears of wounds bleeding lava from the heart whish is bombing like
the volcano getting out the fume yelling begging for
the freedom away from the ironbars .
I pour blood from my mouth.
This is not my blood.
Not the red when met oxygen,
Not the blue which travels through the veins,
Not the one that comes with the pain.
This is the blood of my soul;
Not my body.
This one doesn’t come with the pain;
It has the pain.
This one remembers;
The fights,victories and falling
And carries the pieces of my soul.
It marks everything
And everytime it drops,
So does my soul.
What rhymes with used?
What rhymes with abused?
What is synonymous with accusations?
Escalation of your heart rate.
Why does your heart rate intensify?
Reason lies in the your fear of being battered.
Once you're bleeding, you're just a few minutes away from the unwanted... and the attacker lives happily and justice leaves with the victim.
SHARE AND STOP ABUSE
Have you ever felt
that somehow you slept
at the wrong side of the bed
found out that you bled
like somebody had put a knife
to scar you for dear life?
Oh, pretty please tell me
how the hell baby
did you manage to put a smile
telling everything but the truth while
looking into my eyes
filling me with lies?
Your words are candies
your actions are disease
what I give you is affection
but you brought me affliction
darling, you sound so sweet
when you left me in a heartbeat.
There’s a pressure building up behind my eyes
Will I release it if I cry? Will I release it if I die?
There’s a shakiness in his hands, in my hands
There’s a shakiness in the word ‘goodbye’
I’ve got fear, in puddles and petals
I sense men who disturb and unsettle
They lurk by my feet, they eat and eat
And threaten to make my body a vessel
And the devil is crawling between my lips
Offering me wine, offering me sips
Hands covering ears, chest covered in fears
My head feels heavy as it all takes a dip
When my rapist texted me after 3 years of silence
My body shattered
I've spent all this time picking up the pieces glueing them into place like a puzzle that doesn't quite fit
You swing at me with a hammer
Chipping away at me like the paint I chipped off the deck with my grandpa summers before I met you.
I am the opposite of forgiveness
Sharp teeth, howls of rage, and jagged edges
If our bodies turned red where unwanted fingers like claws, carved into us, I would look like I was bleeding out
I don't know when I became a space to be filled
I have made you as ghost story as possible
Using you only as a joke at my own behalf or cautionary tale.
When you're only a story I can close at night and pull out when I want to, I can pretend you've left no scars on this forsaken body of mine
But when you text me out of no where, I find you've taken my autonomy once again.
I find that I'm once again stuck between your teeth.
Every probing text is gasoline that I swallow with a smile.
You think I turn to ice because I have frozen.
I am ice turned fire
And I'll burn the whole damn world with me if I have to.
My body is constantly in fight or flight, rigid with the possibility of springing into action.
Never quite relaxed enough to forget past sins made against me.
When people ask me, with sneers on their faces, if every adams apple I see reminds me of a fist, I tell them no. Because one of the faces that haunts me has deep brown eyes and soft skin, like my own.
She hid claws under royal blue painted nails and cinnamon scented gum.
is there any such thing
as too much ink
too many pens
than the human heart can fill?
the heart does nothing
but pump the blood that is necessary
to fill my fingers
to scrawl too much ink
with too many pens
on more paper
than such a treacherous organ deserves.
but the heart will get its ink
if it has to bleed dry in order to fill
the pens that it thinks it should have
to defile more paper
than any forest should have to give.
the heart will have what it wants
Her hair messy, plastered over her face by tears.
Her eyes red and puffy.
Her mouth open and screaming.
Her voice raw with pain.
Her throat dry and on fire.
Her arms feel anchored to her sides.
Her knuckles are bloody and swollen.
Her heart and her mind are bleeding with hope.
Her stomach feels like a can that's been crushed.
Her legs--think they're still there, she can't feel them.