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Phim Apr 2016
Ode to the belt
And how nice it never felt
Ode to the fist
That knew just how to make my stomach twist
Ode to the bruises
Which left no excuses
Ode to my jaw
For that punch it never quite saw
Ode to my ears
All those nights when I could hear my brothers' tears
Ode to my dad
And every time he's ever gotten mad
Ode to the world
And every obstacle its hurled
Ode to ode
And how well it never quite bode
gleck Mar 2016
I feel my outsides crack.
"Please-" I beg. "I take it back."
A set of white teeth glisten.
Bad words, mad words, I still listen.

With your fingers you paint me purple and blue.
Each spot a slightly different hue.
Then in front of others I wear a mask.
"I'm clumsy" - I tell those who ask.

You are all bark- yet you bite.
I shiver in fright.

You tell me I'm small.
What am I to you, a nut?
Mr. Nutcracker.
Not based on  any of my experiences
Rochelle Roberts Mar 2016
He loved her madly
Pinched skin, purple and blue. Still
her tears gave him joy.
stargirl Mar 2016
my heart and mind
are lined with barbed wire.

//

the words i speak are coated in thick layers
of faux insults and bitterness.

//

the bruises on my body
are ripe and green,
as if a seed of regret has been planted
within.

//

the universe is knowable of who i am,
but not what i'm capable of.

//

i'd say i prefer
cigarettes to flowers
and alcohol to hot tea,
but the only thing
holding up those lies
is the last shred of my
self-esteem.

//

i'm sick and tired
of being sick and tired.

//

the curtains fall
on this routine
i call a life,
but there is no applause to ease my suffering.

there is no one there
to yell encore
until their throat is sore.

there is no one there
to throw roses at my feet.

//

my heart and mind
are lined with barbed wire.
i have no one to kiss my hand.
and it is my fault.
ap Mar 2016
Love love love
Ours is like withered flowers
Because whenever I see my dark circles
Or freshly painted bruises spreading over my canvas
I see violets blooming //
Love love love
Ours is like licking flames
Because whenever I look into your eyes
Or feel the warmth of your touch leaving burn marks
I remember who painted me //
Love is not *love
at all
And I guess I'm beginning to see
That violet is your favorite color
And I am your masterpiece //
~a.p
thalia Feb 2016
I see you in your four walls
why aren't they caving in the way mine always do
why aren't you desperately forcing them up, making your arms black and blue
I see you in your warm halls
your favourite people too
you look comfortable
the people also do
your warm halls are painted an agonising shade of violet,
they look just like my bruises
the walls are electric with the faces of ecstasy
the love and compassion
the way people are meant to be
who are those people?
what do they do?
do you make them breakfast in bed? do they do the same for you?
your walls are a scrapbook
they are a symphony
of the good times

I want my walls to look like yours

~ T.T
Kathleen Feb 2016
She plays black, then blue, then green and red and yellow,

Then translucent and impatient;

Messy and aggravated.

She fumbles,

Then runs full speed -

Touches the wall

and back again towards you.

Spread arm'd and clinched fist'd.

Clinched teeth and mismatched socks.

Haphazard hair and ****** complexion.

You slit eyes and wink and shine on oh great shining thing,

Until the dust of her lay at your feet.
Penthesilea Jan 2016
This heart of mine is made of bruises caused by my own misperception. Although, I admired the transition of colors caused by every blow it took; crimson to indigo, indigo to ebony.
From every swing of frustration, every punch of trials, every flame of chaos, and every stab of deception left my heart beaten and exhausted.
I believe my heart died a long time ago.
Along with the other parts of me I used to have.
It was too damaged for me to try and save it.
You can't fix something that is beyond repair.
AM Jan 2016
loving you is like bungee jumping
cause it feels safe to let myself falling
maybe because you ******* the knot
and make the risk worth the shot
loving you is a lot like loving me
we have those similar bruises, you see
our hearts are in pieces just fine
but the universe made our stars align
kaylene- mary Jan 2016
I'm telling you I love you
You're not saying a thing
but I ******* love you
I keep finding blood on my sheets
but I ******* love you
And I haven't been sober since
the day you left
I don't think I've been sober since
the day we met
Because whether you're staying or going,
you're always leaving bruises
You're always leaving
Tell me how this game works;
You're the one with bullets for teeth
but I'd do anything to be your target
if it meant you'd call me back
I bled at the boarder of
life and death for you
because I couldn't think of a time without
your violence
I hate you the most on the days that I don't
And I hate that I want you back
I'm still wounded and healing
but I just want you back
I'm telling you I love you
You're not saying a thing
*but  I  *******  love  you
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