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Kath Kane Sep 5
Left on the side of the road,
Nowhere to go,
I swear you wanted me to.
A blow to the face,
A broken nose,
A black eye,
An apology.
A sign of respect.
That was the day I realized you loved me.
When you could have killed me but stopped.
A sign of respect.

I always remember that day not for you trying to end my life but for you deciding not to.
I thanked you.

Four months later and we are back at it again.
I am driving,
I thank god this time and not you. I thank him that I am the one driving and in control. Not you.  
But even in full power,
You find a way to steal my freedom and obtain total dominance.
You never give up in wanting me to give up,
But you do eventually leave.
First you untack your safety net,
And then you gave in with your want for cold blood ******.
I loved those parts of you.
Signs of respect.

The day you really did leave,
Safety net and all,
I watched you out my window,
Thanking you under my breath.
Your last act of sin still leaves a mark around my neck.
I thank god again. Not you.
I thank him that the seat belt locked in my 1993 Buick.
A sign of respect.
A letter to my first car.
Levi Kips Mar 27
The way she tells me I'm hers and she is mine
Open hand or closed fist would be fine
The blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine.

I love hard
I love like a boxing glove loves connecting with a jaw, or my jaw.
Or My love loves connecting with me sometimes that she forgets to wear the gloves,
or get a referee,
or let me know that we are playing this game.
I only know to play along when I hear the bell ring,
or if there's a ringing in my ear from her love taps and she's in that love me stance.
That stance the world ALWAYS misinterprets
The world says that stance means I'm the enemy
But they don't understand our language
In our language that means she's about to give love to my heart
like CPR, so open up and get ready for a pounding.
So open up and take my heart that is yours,
nothing about our love is Taxidermy
it is as true as purple is for royalty
or purple for my skin every time you show your love for me.
This is not abuse, she's not a tornado and i'm not a Kansas home
She's only testing my foundation
Separating the weak parts from the strong
That's normal right?
For the first time i'm doing something normal right?
Thats why we tell our sons to Man up right?! we punch our sons but kiss our daughters.
I'm just doing what i'm told:
Risk it for the biscuit
Do what boxers do, sway with the punches, don't resist
Others say what if this is abuse
I say love is like any drug, and what's a drug without its side effects.
When we lose consciousness together at night, that high is worth all the burning sensation retaliation words I build up in the back of my throat like ****.
When we are alone and I can finally inject her in my system heroine, the track marks she leaves after loving me is the best part cause even when she is gone I can look down at the marks and feel the love all over again.
My love is the only drug I need, it hits hard but....

Thats the way she tells me I'm hers and she is mine
Open hand or closed fist, its all fine
The blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine.
Jade Welch Mar 13
I once loved something
that was filled with evil.

And that scares me, more than anything.
Jade Welch Mar 13
And then he asked "but, how do you still find your smile when such dreaded things have happened?"

"Darling, a tear wont change my past, but my smile can mould my future"
Violet Howard Feb 15
Your fingerprints cover skin
I am a record of all your sin.
I woke up on the floor again
Can’t remember where it began.
Mister sleep eludes me still
I can’t fight to defend my will
My head is void of wondrous dreams
Escape is what sees the sunbeams.
Humility is all I know
And yet you say theres more to show
You say you’ll teach me how to cope
You are what killed my will to hope.
Upon my skin I wear your anger
Upon my head a crown of danger
With the promise of tomorrow
Your forgiveness I seek to borrow.
And still though time has changed me
Your mistakes are all I will ever see
People close and people far
Fear the girl with an invisible scar.
by Violet Howard
Tony Feb 7
Stuck atop a frozen Red Cedar,
hoping the brown beast wouldn’t see her,
no aid nearby, no home, no hearth,
out in the woods until light grew dark.
“Go away! Be gone! Do me no harm!”
she screamed, flailing her tired bruised arm.
Stood on hind legs at the base of the tree,
the bear growled, clawed and slashed at her knees.

Many nights in, she decided to leap
to end the pain, she just couldn’t keep
suffering without an ear that could listen.
She missed her life when her eyes would glisten
with joy, not the sorrow this bear has concocted,
the depths of depravity that held her hostage.
To say you did right
When the world is full of wrong
To say you made it even
That you were the hero all along

A liar your whole life
Manipulative as can be
How foolish you were to think
You could ever justify hurting me
Muted Nov 2018
I won’t take showers anymore.
I won’t take them because
sometimes, when I set my Spotify on shuffle,
your favorite song still plays
because sometimes, when the water trickles down the small of my back, it feels a lot like your fingers
sometimes, soap is not enough
sometimes, I want to peel my skin up, layer by layer, until I am certain there is nothing left that you have touched
sometimes, I wonder if you still sleep on the mattress you buried me in,
wonder if there are others who share that same coffin
I wonder who I will be when I wake up tomorrow,
study my reflection in the cold, shiny shower head
with hope that one day it will change,
that i will no longer see
tongue biting *****,
key- laced, clenched fists *****,
flinching at the sight of chin stubble and strong jaws,
locked knees *****,
mace and matchstick *****,
feverishly avoiding eye contact,
temperature adjusting *****,
skin scrubbing *****,
birdcage mouth,
mascara tears,
weak *****.

I won’t take showers
because sometimes
I come out feeling dirtier
than I went in
because the condensation is enough
to fog up my mirror
but isn’t enough
to fog up my memory
because sometimes
an adams apple resembles
a fist to me
because I count the tiles and remember
that I am just a
paradoxical number,
the only number greater than zero
that still has no value

I wont take showers because
I know that is what
you would want me to do
you would want me
to cover the tracks for you

and if I
set myself on fire instead,
in order to destroy
any evidence
that you once lived here,
that would be
too obvious
Madison Sep 2018
I grow sicker

Day by day

As I realize:

Where I once saw a monster

I now see a man.    


I'm just like you.")

It grows more apparent

Each day I'm by your side

Close enough to see into the soul

I didn't think you had.

("I'm not so bad

After all.")

Don't get me wrong

There's not much there.

While my insides wither

I can see that yours

Are already cold and dead.


("Come on, my dear.

Make me feel alive.")

Even when you hurt me

I find myself searching

Seeing right through you.

You break me down

While you're in shambles

Reducing both of us to ruins.


Don't you dare cry!")

But it's all too clear

In those rare moments

Of misplaced tenderness

That, maybe once

You might have known how to love.

("Hey, angel

Where's your halo?")


In the dead of night

When you're still and serene

I try holding you

Lightly tracing all the lines of your face

Wondering who made you this way.



I even wonder

If, because of the way things are going now

I might turn out like you one day.

("Don't look so scared.

You know you're okay.")

So I listen to you breathe

And I watch you dream

And sometimes I swear I hear a sob

And my insides cave in when I realize it's not mine.

("Oh, angel...")

I just wish someone loved you

Before you met me

So that maybe --

Just maybe --

We could both be alright

Maybe even meet

Under much better circumstances.



And, even when you destroy me

I wish that


I could love you.


Don't cry.")

It makes me sicker

Day by day

That I fall back into the arms

Time and time again

Of a monster

Who was once

A man.

("You know you're safe with me

Song title and partial inspiration from the Nirvana song, "Polly."

I wanted to take a look at Stockholm Syndrome within a poem. I really hope I did a good job of portraying it accurately.
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