it’s been years, and I still scream
halfway through the night.

I still wake up drenched in sweat and tears,
feeling his grip around my wrist.

when I take a shower,  I find myself
still trying to scrub him off me.
I’m still trying to erase the
cigarette burn on my right hand,
the one he gave me when
he was drunk and angry.

sometimes, I scrub my skin until I bleed. not intentionally, of course.
I don’t want to hurt myself.
I’ve hurt myself enough over the years,
and I have the scars to prove it.

all I want is to scrub him off of me.
I want to feel clean again.

but no matter how raw I scrub myself,
the fingerprints and bruises still linger.

it's the whisper of a weary goodbye
caught in a sea of hellos
the faintest touch against your lip
from a manicured hand
or one so callused
it's fingertips rough as they glide on your skin
it's that feeling of familiarity
in a place so foreign
where no one knows your name but you
or who you are
and when you wander around at night
to stumble into your kitchen
making the pots and pans rattle against each other
it's the burning in your chest that goes down your throat
and into your stomach
birthing butterflies that flutter around
it's the cold splashes of water on heated skin
the tear stained pillowcases, the tear stained sweaters
the near-bleeding red scratches of the night before
and the deep blues and purples of a bruise
and when you've had enough
it's the mind-numbing ringing in your ears
and the sudden wash of everything at once
when you take those rose-tinted glasses off
maybe it's love.

a fiery heart
with cool toned shadows
the bluest flame to burn
eating away at the amber of the flames
and the beige and brown of flesh
scattering sloppy purple bursts.

my flesh is sore
and tender
covered in deep violet buds
and the blooming yellow flowers
that grew in patches on
dry,
rough skin
and every tear would let blood trickle down
in between the petals
concealed
but felt.

Im back into this beautifully torturous environment  

That I so un-proudly call “home”

Chained, restricted, duct tape shut

I’ve felt it all before

#childhood

The scars, the bruises, and the cuts

They were starting to heal, slowly but surely

But I’m starting to feel the cuts reopen

The bruises coming once again

And the scars shining brighter than before, taunting me with the reminder

That there is truly no place like home

and i can feel the bruises
but no reminder is loud enough
to keep me away from you

my body is screaming at me
my skin is tightening
my lips are growing cold

but you tell me this is love
and you tell me i'm so pretty,
i'm so ******* pretty

but only when i listen to you?

Hearing her laugh,
I know she's trying
to be tough.

Seeing her smile
I know she's hiding
The pain for a while.

Seeing her every move
While she groove
Making myself believe she got improve

It lets me forget
That she's in pain
That makes her drain.

I am concern
But I know I can't help you
Because you also need to learn

To be honest,

I'm willing to help
Everytime you yelp
Come closer and I'll skelp.

You have been so strong,
Just need to be tougher
Because challenges are lifelong.

She got bruises
Because of the challenges
But it will be beneficial after the causes.

From all the pain
the world caused,
For the reason
she loved hard most.