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Smokes and cigarette cartons all about the place.
Empty milk bottles and their stench brings back the taste.
My hell in the sky, bring my body back home to come and play.
Mommy, are you busy dying, I'm a little hungry today.

Sadistic little me, fancy sitting on a chair.
Crazy big you with the damp and messy hair.
Will you give me your attention, I can't make out your expression,
Over there?
I love you, please light up so I can sit and
Stare.

Kick down the door, it's gotten much harder to keep our spirits up.
I can tell that after this evening your a little down on feeding us.
You can't stand to see yourself and I treated here this way.
Could you tell me where you hid my toys, I'm a little bored today.

But it's hot outside.
and your skins turned pale.
He's off at work after beating you this morning and freshly out of jail.
Bruises clout your eyes as I remember everything.
We've been in this house since I can't remember when.

And I remember. I remember it all.
I remember when the bloodstains pooled and stained our kitchen floor.
I remember when your screams crept in and ran about the room.
I remember peeking through the doorway to see what had happened to you.

I remember.
I remember where we stand.
And I remember to this day, taking you there, hand in hand.
My other hand on my bottle, yours covering your face.
I remember those little words that i had spoke to you that day.

"Mom, the toast is done."

And like that, it all fell into a dream.
Life began to course that way into a ****** seem.
He walked out and you fell to the ground without much to say.
They came to the house and took me far and far away.
Life had then forgotten you and broke into your house.
He shot you without prerogative and let you bleed out.
Oh mother, answer me how can anyone get through this pain.
You lived another day just to take leave anyway.
You broke down.
In tears when you saw me again.
I put to you that I would always love you to the end.
It was 8 years later from when the toast had finished cooking that day.
You took to the bed at dinner, and your bible to go and pray.
And I felt your embrace smother me with warmth through out.
You were skint with your money and very prone when angry to shout.
Only fair to say I could see you crumble a little more each day.
Till the funny farm took you in and drugged your ****** mind astray.

Now I pray, only to myself.
That I won't leave your love at the doorstep and take it without doubt.
You may be more damaged heartland that failed to believe.
I find it difficult to find inside a heart for me.

And we broke out.
We broke into a fight.
Every word  I punctured further into you as the moon into the night.
I should have kept going I should have broke your spirit down.
I never should have pity for that heart you swing about.
Now I have a brother who was in the position I was in.
Now your bruised and he's telling you to be sure make for him.

"Mom, the toast is done."
I don't know but.. god help me.
Pinkbun17 Sep 2016
Here I think to myself

What has happened in this short amount of time apart?

Your clement smile lights up the room in my head

Drifting and floating away from one another,

What is there to chase?

Loyalty of the heart is slowly tucked away

False favorable mechanics of what it once was

Chances are truly fatal.

We all seem to disintegrate.

Hesitating laughs, and depressing fatigue comes over

What can I possibly accomplish if--

I can't comprehend all of this?!

All we appear to do is distrust one another.

I only feel our friendship sink even further away...
Wrote this to ex childhood friend on 5/16/10
Falling.
Falling.
Fallen.
Rejected by his own mind,
Cast down to a lower plane,
All ties severed with hope,
All memories wiped of love,
All knowledge removed of freedom,
All hints unsaid of safety,
He falls, further, faster,
Wings broken,
Lungs crushed,
Heart stopped,
Eyes closed,
But just caught,
As he bursts through empty skies into her arms.
Hayley Cusick Sep 2014
My heart breaks with every step.
Because the further I walk,

*the smaller you get.
Goodbye.
BLZbozo Jul 2014
Eh like playin fitba wee meh Dad,
It's so funny and a wee bit sad
'Cause when eh beat him he gets mad.

Eh like playin fitba wee meh wee lassie,
She plays fitba like Shirley Bassey,

Meh Dad canny tackle, he's so mince.
He devs in and taks awa meh pins.

Meh lassie heiders the ba  wee the back o her heid,
Like a fish oot o water
Just before it's deid.
Unfinished Draft. Notes for the hard of Scots:

Football Crazy
One does enjoy playing football with my Father,
It is quite amusing and also a little upsetting
because I am more technically gifted as a player than my Father. Which upsets him.

One enjoys playing football with my Daughter.
She has the playing ability of Shirley Bassey. (ie not very good. Ms Bassey is NOT known for her footballing prowess.)
My Father does not possess the footballing skill nor ability to legitimately dispossess one of the ball. He lacks skill in the footballing department.
Rather than obtain the ball through fair play he prefers foul play.

My Daughter's ability in the headering of a football is seriously lacking, to the extent that it resembles a member of the aquatic family in its death throes.
Raina Grace Jul 2014
Can we be uprooted together
Tied to the sky
To drift with the clouds?

What if

     we        broke              r e a l i t y  

(Or rather, theirs)?
We could see the way the monotonous,
Predictable schedules deteriorate.
Free from distance
Free from time
We'll live life the way we truly mean
With our whole souls
Feeling like I need to find my Further

— The End —