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Skyla Oct 4
He grabs me by my hair
And gives me quite the scare
And tells me that I’m his to keep
Backed up against the wall, I weep

I fear for my life but he says one day I’ll be his wife
So I guess it’s time to start lovin’ on him
Every day of every week, crying on the floor and between the sheets

Always making a scene
He can be cool, he can be mean
But my heart don’t mean anythin’
Because I’m his beauty queen

Crying in my Summer dress
Asking to be blessed
By a God I don’t believe in

‘Cause I’m his favourite dolly
Spins me ‘round and ‘round and ‘round
Violently dances me around the room
And drags me all the way downtown

‘Cause I’m his favourite Candy
And while he screams and drinks his Brandy
I’m writing apology letters to make him feel better
And I only feel blessed when we’re both undressed
Because lust and desire will put out his fire

He said I was Hollywood beauty and timeless grace
But that don’t feel right with the marks on my face
He says he adores me so I let him explore me
Whenever, wherever, he needs

I am his canvas, his hands are the brush  
The colours he paints on me feel like a sugar rush
He gives me some blush
and some crimson red lips
The metallic taste seeps in my mouth
And stains the front of my blouse

‘Cause I’m his favourite barbie
Likes to dress me up, and take me to town
I’m beauty, I’m grace, I cake on a new face
But it all comes melting off at night when I sob in my nightgown

But he kisses my wounds
And dances me ‘round the room one more time
Mr Rage, Mr. Love, my chaotic turtle dove
As we’re dancing I can see the heavens above
and there is no presence of time

Drink your wine, treat me like swine,
I’m scared for the future while he’s sippin’ on time

Lay me down tonight, decorate me with pearls
Whisper in my ear, tell me I’m your favourite girl
And that you’ll do anything in the whole wide world
To win my forgiveness
I don’t want this, but I deserve this.  

Kiss me, tell me i’m your peach, don’t shake me, or make me cry.

Please everyone, if you see my colourful face, please don’t ask me why.
This is not meant to glorify or romanticise domestic violence.  I use very heavy metaphors but it is a way for me to show that the girl refuses to believe her man is bad; she only paints him to look good.  Therefore “paints me” and “dances me around” are her way of expressing that he’s abusing her.
Yolanda Aug 6
I pictured me and you and I smiled
Your skin brushing up against mine
Felt like a thousand fireworks on a 4th of July night
Waking up next to you, the epitome of heaven
I thought
I could do this forever
I thought

If only I didn’t wake up and you were different
I was different
Suddenly the thought of forever scares me more than the silence of being alone
Your touch hurts me like a fire set on my skin..
Burning to the depths of my soul
Your words cut me deeper than a double edged sword


Your love has become a thorn in my flesh


If only this was just a dream...
Say NO to Domestic Violence. Lets speak out against it. If it happened to you or if it’s happening to you... honey it is not your fault. It’s not okay for anyone to abuse you in way or form. If you find yourself in abusive relationship and you don’t know what to do, speak to a friend, family member, anyone who you think can help you in that moment.

To contact someone you can phone at 1-800-799-SAFE (7233), or 1-800-787-3224 (TTY).

That is a domestic violence hotline ☝️. Men let’s protect our women & women lets do the same for our men.
Effie Rose Jul 22
The night sky is blue.
Amaranthine - endless
The mosaic trail left upon my satin skin.
The tinge caressing my eyes,
Which have seen
The devil himself
And yet dare not expose the azure brutality
Enveloped in your venomous cradle.

The waves are blue.
An exhausting struggle I brave
Cyclically
Desperate to subsist
As you seek to drag me
Cascading
To the ocean floor -
Where I embrace my demise at your hands.

Blood flows blue
Yet pours red.
The colour you see each time I dare to pursue escape.
The colour you see
If I am to take too long in the bathroom.
If I am to have a quiet word with my friends
Without your contiguity
Looming like a cloud
Blue
Threatening a downpour congruent with my tears
As I beg them to liberate me
Yet say no such thing.

The lights projected from the ambulance
Pleading with traffic to manufacture a path
As I lay
Helpless.
Blue.
Broken ribs and a broken heart.
Not the first assault and victim to more than yourself
But my forgiving nature
Assures that this is not the final beating.
As my skull is glued and the morphine streams through my veins
And the boys in
Blue
Delicately ask
“Did he do this, again?”
I nod,
Though the officer shakes his head,
His pen moving freely of his hand,
He acknowledges that tonight he will return to his wife,
He will have his meal and pray that his daughter is spared.
And I will return,
To the lair of the beast.

My eyes swollen.
My body imitating scaffolding; bones and skin housing the weary soul.
My hands shake as they struggle to grasp reality.
My cheeks stained by the violent, sempiternal flow of tears.
My ribs, forbidden from healing prior to the next wave of brutality,
Stood at an angle god himself could not manufacture.
My voice weak, desperate, pleading;
Determined.
I beg no one to liberate me.
I, myself, choose to betray your corruption.
I tell my story, though it is not a tragedy.
I showcase, unforgiving - as you were,
The ‘love’ you enforced upon me.
The bloodthirsty way your soul adored mine.
The months of seemingly incalculable assault
Starvation
Emotional torture
****
The autonomy you stole from me.
I want it back.
Instead it lies, at the bottom of your cobalt ocean.
Wrecked and never to be recovered.
Even in exposing you, and hand-delivering my message to you,
That you lost.
I do not regain the life you mercilessly devoured.

Instead,
I must rebuild my own life.
Despite and in spite of you.
Though the blue I once knew was bruised and afraid.
The Sapphire I learn is of unwavering strength, kindness
And peace.
I forgive you,
Though I hope to God that you rot in a place where blue
Seems inviting.
'Blue' is a piece I created not so long ago; and it helped me to explore feelings and situations I could not at the time process or verbalise. I hope that 'Blue' can bring any survivors reading it some peace; as you realise you are not alone, your feelings of grief, helplessness and animosity are valid; and you will come out on top. I believe in you, I love you, and I'm proud you have walked away or are considering doing so. You deserve better than this.
Amanda Jun 23
Looking through the window
I am surging ahead, fast forward
Flying straight as a crow

Clickerty Clack, Clickerty

A rhythm like a heart beat
Takes me to a future not know
From a past I left incomplete

Clickerty, Clack

I am held, as the world turns below me
Frozen in time, I can stay
Where I can be hidden, No-one can see

Clickerty

Bags are heavy, but guilt is a weightier load
Left you, and your angry days
Sorry, I wont be there when your fists off-load

Clack
Jeannery Jun 21
You went home
Drowned in alcohol and some *******
I was busy writing poem
Mother's shouting and asking you "are you insane?"


Deep down I know what's next
Mother's crying for a help
I memorized all of your patterns
You pulled her hair, one slap in her cheek, and a strong punch in her stomach.


Before you give her another punch,
I ran as fast as I could.
Have you lost yourself so much you forgot everything?
Does it satisfy you hurting the woman you married?


All I could do is to watch my mother weep
Hugged her wishing I could take away her pain
Giving him dagger looks and I finally said it
"Father, you failed as a husband and a daddy to look up to."


As you walked out of the living room,
I wished you walk out of our life too.
My heart doesn't have a space to forgive someone like you
We got too much, nothing but pain.



--Jeannery A.

Nothing hurts more when you see your mother cry.
!!!!!!Trigger Warning: ****, domestic violence, abuse, suicide!!!!!!!!



When I moved to your hometown, I saw your true colors.
I saw that power meant more, your dominance meant more, your ego and your assertiveness meant more to you than I did.
I tried.
I tried to leave you alone, but like a moth drawn to a flame, time and again I allowed myself to draw nearer to you, shocked when you burned me every time.
Isn’t that the definition of insanity?
Days later, I cut you off. I blocked you. And it felt good. Like I regained some of the control you took away from me. I was starting to feel like myself again until I got home that night.
You busted through the deadbolt lock on my door.
My backpack was missing.
I called your mom in a panic, having not connected the dots until moments after I hung up the phone with her and I heard your voice, calling me from outside my window.
I asked you.
I asked you once.
I asked you twice.
Did you do that to my door?
Your calm, unchanging face didn’t even blink when you answered,
No.
It wasn’t until I put two and two together, you being there, having my backpack, the holes in your story, your unchanging, unsurprised, unsympathetic face, that I realized what you had done.
And when I called you on it, you admitted it.
Why lie to me? Why lie to my face?
So I blocked you, again.
Leave me alone until I give you the word, I said.
Just leave me alone.
Two days later, I was breaking down crying over my inability to be alone, over my inability to love my broke pieces enough to pick myself up and put myself back together
Two days later, I called you.
You told me you were sorry.
And that you sent me roses in the mail, set to arrive sometime before I left, two weeks from then.
And I melted
I caved
I gave up being strong and decided to instead be naïve, oblivious, or simply in denial.
We can make it work at least until I leave, right?
What’s the worst that can happen?
But then the worst started to happen.
Your flashbacks took away your memories of me and replaced them with menacing, intrusive thoughts
Replaced me with other girls
Nameless, faceless, meaningless bodies for you to use as you please
Or a roadblock in the way of you achieving peace at last, kissing death’s sweet lips
The bad guy you worked so hard to bury deep within your subconscious became very, very conscious
Very real
I first noticed it the day we were walking to the park, I said you were less mature than I, a harmless quip meaning no personal injury
You walked on the opposite side of the street as me, refusing to look at me, refusing to acknowledge me, refusing to come back to my side.
But when that car full of guys rolled by me, whistling, yelling various unsolicited, uncomfortable things resembling compliments, you laughed.
You laughed at my fear.
And still wouldn’t walk with me.
It was that day, you got in my face and dared me to put my hands on you so you could lay me on the ground
It was that day, I asked you, why are you talking to me like this?
It was that day, you answered, if I don’t hurt you verbally, it will be physically.
It was moments later, through tears, I begged, why do you treat me like this?
It was moments later, with cold eyes, you answered, to feel powerful
Is it a switch?
Can you flip it on and off?
How can the one who caresses my face so very gently,
The one who calls himself my protector at all costs,
The one who rushes to my side at every beck and call,
The one who opens doors for me
Walks two hours in the rain for me
Spends all his money to send me roses,
Be so cruel?
Three days before I’m supposed to leave, you come spend the night with me
We’re laying down, whispering sweet nothings to each other in the darkness
When I suddenly admit, I’ll miss you.
Don’t go, you say.
But I have to. I have to, my love.
It was then that you grabbed me by the neck, and told me I was not going to leave you.
Baby, please, I can’t breathe.
You’re not leaving. I don’t care if I have to take you away
Then you jolt out of it, looking at me with confusion. Your head hurts.
Just lay on me chest baby, it’s okay
I stroke your hair slowly, softly, calmly
Why is your heart beating so fast?
It’s not baby, close your eyes.
I hear it. What’s wrong?
Nothing, love, I’m fine. Just anxious about the move.
You know, you could stay here with me.
Baby, I already got my plane ticket, I’m leaving in a couple days.
No.
No?
No.
You grab my wrist with one hand.
Baby, let me go.
No.
Babe, you have to let me go. It’s okay.
No. Stop saying that.
Baby, I-
It’s too late. You’re already on top of me, grabbing my other wrist and pinning me down, your dark eyes beating into mind.
Baby, please let go of me, you’re squeezing too tight, you’re hurting me.
Your grip grows even stronger, and I feel the panic rising in my chest again.
Then you jolt out of it. Your head hurts. You need to lay down.
This time, I don’t let you lay on me. This time, I simply watch you lay there.
You reach out for me
I flinch
Concern flickers in your eyes, babygirl what’s wrong? You haven’t flinched around me in months.
It’s nothing.
It’s something, talk to me. What did I do?
You… um.. you pinned me down. You h-held my wrists. You wouldn’t let me go…
You laugh.
I wouldn’t do that, unless you were trying to leave me
Baby, I’m leaving the state in two days.
Your eyes turn cold. You yank my hair, pulling my head back.
You what?
I don’t answer.
You WHAT?
I-I’m leaving in two-
You yank my hair again, harder this time, before letting me go.
Your head hurts.
Really bad, really, really, bad.
Lay down baby, it’s okay.
I kiss your forehead tenderly
You’re okay.
My last day there was the worst.
By far, the worst.
Laying down, we’re past the stage of denial over me leaving.
I’m leaving tomorrow. And I’m so horribly sad to leave you behind.
You’re depressed. You don’t want to be here anymore. You don’t see yourself living without me.
You’re the only thing ******* keeping me here anymore, you say bitterly.
You’re gonna have to be strong for me when I leave, my love. I know you can.
Just die with me, you plead, it’ll be quick. I can choke you to death and **** myself. We’ll never have to be apart again.
We don’t even know what’s on the other side. What if it’s nothing? What if we don’t find each other?
You insist. You beg. You plead. You cry. Until you finally give up convincing me, your hand creeping up towards my neck.
Let me go.
Baby, let me go
Your hand is around my neck. Tightening. It’s getting harder and harder to breathe. There are black spots clouding my vision, like when you stand up too fast after sitting for too long, except they’re everywhere
Please, babe, please just…
Shhhhh babygirl it’s okay, close your eyes, go to sleep
So I do. I close my eyes and you slowly remove your hand from my neck, kissing me tenderly on the forehead, before getting up and going to my window. You open the window and as you’re looking down at the two story drop, my eyelids flutter open.
I reach out for you as you go to climb out the window.
Baby, stop, I whisper weakly.
You’re supposed to be dead.
But I’m not. Just, come here, it’s okay, you don’t have to do this.
I stand slowly and come to you, grabbing your arm to pull you away from the window.
Now it’s your turn to demand that I let you go.
Just let me do this. I need to do this. Leave me alone.
No, you don’t, just come here.
Before I can even blink both of your hands are around my neck and squeezing, lifting me off the ground.
Leave me alone before I make you leave me alone.
Unable to breathe, I nod, and you drop me.
Gasping for breath, I see you going towards the window once again.
Please! Just use the front door. Just walk out the front door, if you go out the front door I swear to god I’ll leave you alone.
You turn towards me, reaching once again for my neck, and I grab your wrists.
You back me up, twisting out of my grip and grabbing onto my wrists.
You keep backing me up, until we’re almost to my closet. I stop and rest against the open door, and you ask coldly,
Why’d you stop backing up? Keep going. Since you don’t know how to leave me the **** alone.
I don’t have much of a choice. You push me into the closet, and turn me around so I’m no longer facing you, placing your arm around my neck in a choke hold and tightening your grip.
I hit your arm once, twice, three, four, five times, and you finally drop me.
Your head hurts.
I turn to face you, with fear in my eyes, cowering under you.
You look at me with confusion.
Why are we in a closet? What’s wrong? Why are you-
You reach out to touch me and I cower and flinch, shaking my head
Please don’t, please, please don’t touch me. Please. I’m sorry. Please.
I break down crying.
You realize what you’ve done.
And you sit in the closet. In your little corner, to punish yourself, as I cower in the corner.
Seconds blend into minutes as they pass by, until you rise from the closet, going to the door. You don’t know where you are. You don’t know who I am. You keep calling me another girl’s name. I don’t know who it is.
Now it’s your turn to cower in the corner.
I can only imagine what’s going on in your head, as you’re crying out with fear and panic over the voices screaming in your head. I let you cry, clinging onto my legs.
It’s okay my love, you’re safe now, you’re not there anymore. Let it out. It’s okay.
My jeans are soaked now. I gently remove you from my legs and go to change my pants. Your face immediately switches to panic.
No, please, I don’t want to have ***. Please. I don’t want to.
Baby, relax. I’m not going to make you. I’m just changing out of these wet pants.
As I change out of my pants and into your oversized basketball shorts, your face changes.
Come here.
I look at you, confused.
Now.
I slowly walk over to the corner where you’re no longer cowering in. I crouch down next to you.
Closer.
You pull me onto your lap.
I gotta tell you something.
I lean over, your lips grazing my ear as you whisper,
I want you
You begin kissing my neck.
Kissing, touching, gently.
I almost didn’t notice anything was wrong. It wasn’t until you looked at me and asked,
What’s your name, girl?
That I realized you weren’t really here. I looked at you, dumbfounded, and you shrugged,
Okay, I guess that doesn’t matter. You’re **** as hell.
I pushed off of you, shaking my head.
I’m your girlfriend. Remember?
You shake your head.
I don’t date girls like you. Why don’t you just take that off?
You stand, walking towards me.
Just relax.
No!
I push you off me, and you laugh coldly.
Babygirl, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. But I love it when they fight back.
You grab me by the neck, kissing me roughly, as your free hand pulls my shorts off.
I’m pushing you. I’m pushing you off of me but you’re too strong.
You grip my ******* tightly and begin pulling them down, but I grip them tighter and keep holding them up.
Stop. Please. Stop.
I use my most authoritative voice and you chuckle with amusement.
Guess we’re doing this the hard way then, hm?
You pick me up and set me on my back on the ground. I go to get up. You pin me back down by my throat, prying yourself between my legs.
You begin to touch me.
I flinch under your touch and keep pushing, keep pushing you off of me.
You pin my hands with both of yours.
You bring my hands together and hold them both with one of your hands.
Stop. Fighting.
You resume touching me.
My body betrays me as I squirm and leak.
You know you like that. Don’t you?
You enter me, and I cry out in pain as you use me for your pleasure.
Call me daddy
You demand, and I shake my head.
You grab me by the throat and begin going harder. Faster. Harder. Faster.
Again, you demand,
Say it.
The word escapes my lips and you grin with satisfaction.
I close my eyes.
I stop fighting.
I do anything I can to take a mental vacation somewhere far, far, away.
I’m not here. This isn’t happening. It’s not. It’s okay. I’m fine. It’s almost over.
You pull out suddenly, and look at me with horror.
No… no… no, no, no, no, no, no
You let go of my neck. Then my hands. You back up and stare at me as if I’m on fire.
Please tell me I didn’t just do what I think I just did.
I wish I could. I wish I could tell you that you didn’t just do what you think you just did, but you did.
Your head hurts.
So ******* bad.
You retreat to your corner in the closet, and I retreat to the corner opposite in the room. Now it’s my turn to cower in the corner.
The next morning, you’re helping me move my stuff out of my room, into your mom’s car. She’s taking me to the airport.
The ride to the airport is silent.
When we arrive, you open the door for me, and scoop me up bridal-style so I don’t get my shoes wet in the puddle you’re standing in.
I hug you tightly, holding back tears.
I kiss you gently, holding back words.
I love you.
I love you, too.
As I walk into the airport, leaving you standing in the rain, I realize:
The roses never came.
This is the real story of how my life has been for the past month. I am safe now, in another state. I escaped but he still lives in my mind. Please no hate or judgement in the comments.
Pyrrha Jun 10
Domestic violence in my heart
With eyes that wage a war
And lips that speak of more
He takes our ******* and calls it art
Immediately after this I got Marilyn Manson's cover of ******* stuck in my head again...
Artistical Jun 1
Let’s start this with some counting
One, two, Three
One, two, Three
One, two, Three
Three
One in three girls
In this room will
Suffer at the hands
Of the one who swears
They love you
The one who swears
They’ll never hurt you
Again
But it happens
Again
And
Again
And
Again
And
Again

Again
We pretend
It only
Happens to us
Let's do some more counting
One, two, three, four
One, two, three, four
One, two, three, four
One, two, three, four
Four
One in four of you boys
Will be affected
By the words she said
By the cuts and bruises
She caused
You have no clue
How they happened
Because it's embarrassing
To admit you got your ***
Kicked by a girl
Only due to the fact
You refuse to
Hit her back
Because you respect

More counting
One, two, Three
One, two, Three
One, two, Three
Three
Three
Three
Three women will have died today
From Domestic Violence
It's such a strange paradox
Domestic is calm and tame
Violence is a force that is intended to
hurt, damage, or ****
And from where I
Stand there is
Nothing- Nothing
Domestic about Violence

Knowing these Facts
It makes me afraid
I am afraid
to be a
Lover
To be a
Mother
Because when I look at my past

When I look at my past
I am afraid it will repeat
I am afraid
I’ll choose a man
Who beats me with an aluminum baseball bat
Like my own mother did

When I look at my past
I am afraid it will repeat
I am afraid
A man will choose me
And I’ll abuse him with my words
And he’ll take it
Like my father does

When I look at my past
I am terrified it will repeat
I am terrified
My children will
look for an escape
Like the five million children do
Like I do
This was just a topic that was on my mind...
Sharon Mar 21
If you gave me one time.
One time to finally be free.
One time to finally speak.
I would tell you that it was my heart who gave me a sign.
But we both know that’s a lie.
Everyone goes home.
I go home too, right?
But why does my own home not feel like, like i belong.
It’s al i wanted since day one.
Maybe if you gave me that one time.
I would find my way home, to a place where i actually belong.
To a little boy or a little girl who looked just fine.
Who looks in to my eyes and sees what i wanted to see just one time.
Home.
To all the people who wish they have what so many people take for granted. your time will come my friend.
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