I remember in November
Knuckles turning purple as the leafs turned orange
My hand, a bruised, gnarled, yellow and indigo mess
How did this amazingly unfortunate injury happen?
I was punishing the walls
That saw my loss
But stayed quiet

A black fist
Rough hands
The smell of alcohol
Smoke in your lungs
And in your mouth
Tears don't stop the pain
Welts and bruises are the evidence
But no one looks, nor cares
Who notices what is hidden well...

to her with tea bag eyes
and wrists like scarlet fever,
gently undue your bruising ties
and unthaw your years of winter

--  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --
she breathed the where
and exhaled the won't be,
if only you'd been with her there,
to slow the feverish sea
--
up, to the nearest fall
down, in the mountain mist
she falls from nothing at all
just as she had wished
--
the moments leading to a place
took shape and color like music,
and with all the grace it takes
to purposefully lose it
--  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --  --

to her with shaking hands
and a mind like a burning temple,
remember your wish is your command,
and to always hold yourself gentle

You ask me what it takes to have fallen from belief
that words aren't enough to know
what love is.

All it takes
is the feeling of being held to the ground by your roots,
metaphorically and literally.
Sometimes I still feel bruises
that are no longer underneath my hair
and sometimes
I think my ancestral veins are laced
and patted dry for the viewing of our friends.
I remember wishing the wood would hit my skull
just a little harder
that my memories might sink between the cracks
like a spilled cup of orange juice
and maybe then I could forgive you
for things you “didn’t” do
and forget
that I was born with poison already mixed into my veins.
Maybe then your screaming
would be aimed and pierced
into another stranger’s eyes.
Maybe,
but probably not.

We all want to believe that love
comes automatically with shared blood,

     that your parents thought twice and more
     about what they made you for.
          Maybe,
          but probably not.

Fingers harshly kiss my skin,
As the sharpened words sink in.
My mind in a tail-spin,
and my heart broken.
This wasn't supposed to happen
This isn't who you were
But now it's who you are
And the bruises are mapping
The hand prints on my wrists.
The redness of my eyes,
is not from relief,
but from the pain you inflict.
A father is the first man their
Daughter will fall in love with.
But you were the first one to bruise
my heart.

Kissing you was like breathing air
Simple and natural
Easy and sweet

But I didn't want air
I craved a forest fire
I needed a tornado to rip through me

I wanted bruises and cuts
But I craved you
For you to be the eye of the storm

To be there as air
So when the winds died
I could still breathe

Because though I wanted heat
Fire dies without air
Just like me, without you.

when I was younger not in age but in my mind
I used to be afraid of what the people would say
the scars on my skin were the ugliest thing
the bruises on my arm and legs were disgusting

I was so scared of being rejected, not fitting in
people on the street would stare at me and look at me weird
some kids even called me names for walking around like this
and I never understood why they did that
like it was my choice to be this way

but all these little things made me grow as an individual
I am not that small girl anymore that you can hurt with words
words that don't mean a thing to me anymore
call me names, look at me weird

I will wear my battle scars proud
because this war isn't over and I haven't lost yet

sick of hiding who I am.

Dear heart
Of him you are
But in you I see
How you have many scars
Of times when you were opened to wide
Opened to fast
Opened with an invisible knife
Which was then ripped out
To leave a mark forever.
So many scars and stitches
And bandaids and bruises
And so many broken pieces put back in.

And I am so sorry.

Dear heart
You beat in the both of us
For the first time there is this new feeling
Something so foreign and different.
We don't understand
And we don't know how.
We open up to early like normal
But this time it seems different.
That's what they say everytime
But this time its the truth.
Something is so different.
I am careful of his wounds
I clean his scars
I take out his stitches.
I put on every single bandaid
And am careful not to rip them off.
I forgot hearts could handle so much.

And I am so sorry.

My dear heart.
I took so much time caring for his heart
That I forgot that you need to be cared for
And that you too have unhealed scars
And you too have bruises.
I took so much time healing his heart
And forgot to heal you
That when his heart was beating normal
It beat so loud to try and find its echo
In the chambers of another heart
But you my dear heart forgot to beat loud enough
And so he didn't hear you
And went to another beat.
And you were left with another wound
And no one to sew it up.

And I am so sorry.

Bruises are supernovas under your skin,
Your lover likes to experience life to the fullest.
you don’t stop them when they get angry because they’re all you’ve got.
Scratches on your face are asteroid belts,
They hit you last week because you got home late.
You don’t say anything as you cover them with makeup and move on.
Busted lips are solar flares,
they make a mess and irritate you.  
You don’t move when their arms start flailing.
Broken bones are the time-space continuum,
In the hospital you don’t say anything,
they say that they won’t touch you like that anymore.
The drug addiction is a **** blackhole,
It’s ******* the life out of you,
They stay out late. They don’t look at you.
Cutting is the stellar nursery,
welcome to the end yet beginning of your new life.
Your parents know they’ve done something to you.
The expansion of the universe loses a star or two.
But the abuse just like the universe,
hard to imagine.