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Mia Cleary Dec 2015
Why is it that every word you speak
I expect insults instead of compliments.
Why do you show your love for me through angry hands,
why can't you show me you love me by loving me
rather than destroying me.
I am scared of what is next.
I am scared of how many more times your hands will be covering my mouth.
I know you love me.
But I also know you hate who I am.
I love him but we are both victims.
We cannot seem to control ourselves any longer.
There is more hate filled touching than love filled.
I have become your biggest pet peeve.
I am the nagging in your ear.
You will never admit this to me,
but I am clever enough to see the hate you have for me by the lack of touch,
the way your eyes don't glaze over when you look at me anymore.
I keep trying to put you out of your misery of the burden that I have become.
You won't let me.
I am sorry I have become a chore.
I never wanted to be the person you wanted the least.
KILLME Sep 2015
When He realizes
He can't  tell you "no"
He'll make you feel  "no"
you'll feel his disapproval
across your face
and in the places
you hit the floor too many times.
Cat Fiske Apr 2015
1,
I will tell you every detail and fact no matter how mean,
lets start off by being honest I was turning sixteen,
2,
my life was falling faster then the leaves from trees,
Dropped like petals from decaying flowers
                 because they were ignored by the bee's,
I was wilting massively wanting to be free,
of my misery,

3,
**** is not something they teach you about,
and when it happened to me it was considered allowed,
Because when he did it,
I didn't have a fit,
or say "No stop",
I just kept crying like I was before in even more shock,
But like a toddlers screams and cries,
Your demanding wants was the only compromise,
But in the the same way,
my cries made me just as much as your baby,
4,
and he didn't take care of me,
like he promised he would,
like any man claims they could,

5,
I was still cutting myself up again,
until December 2014 on the 10th,
That's when I decided to stop,
6,
We had split, in late February,
the year before now as it still felt then it felt even more necessary,
now to cut myself again,
because like my face has been a women though she could be so plain,
and state to me sweetie,
as I listened to a women use words like a child does things sneaky,
As she explained to me how badly you had mistreated me,

7,
I didn't disagree,
but she and I knew I wore a face of unbelief,
like how a drug addict doesn't wish to admit there mistreatment,
but to make it worse she tied in my mother and father,
like tying the rope on there daughter,
8,
I now sat on the floor,
my life I lived was not the same and I couldn't handle more,
I heard her talk to me about the school,
and all the kids there,
and what they did to me,
but right then my body only knew how to go through the motions,
of point A to point B,
when I got up and grabbed a pen,
and began,

8,
I spoke about my 8th birthday my final birthday party,
9,... I mean 10,
I wrote on my arms,
till both looked like a henna tattoo's gone into a complete mess,
but they were names,
and places,
and everything,
because I remembered everyone's words,

11,
I took the pen,
and on each sleeve of hate,
I made what as a normal person would call there own fate,
pen in hand I put pen to skin and pressed down,
and like how you press your lips and body to the person you love
you move around,
12,
the pen was pulled down,
and like Siemens twins
the other helped me drown
the next one.

13,
the day before my birthday I leave the hospital,
and I know what I did was not logical
but like a freak it was probable,
and the kids not knowing the scars on my arms,
the wounds I had created most due to them,
still picked on me,
14,
I went home and my mom yelled at me,
I skipped dinner,
woke to the same thing,
she demanded to drive me in,
and hit me the whole five minute car ride there,

15,
It was my birthday,
my 16th birthday,
and I hit my mother back finally,
while she was driving,
16,
I arrived at school,
and she was cursing at me,
so I cursed back,
Called her a **** and ran inside crying,
6: Talk about the worst birthday you have had. this is all true. i encourage u to write one too, or go to my collection and find one of the 40 story topics and write one,
Lily Catalini Apr 2015
i want to walk this bomb field
without hitting the bombs
no dog with me this time
to sniff them out
A man does not hit a woman
Does not put her through that misery
Slaps, and beats them till they cry every night
Never makes her feel like inside, she is empty
Today, My friend Britty Bruce on here was slapped in the library because she was helping someone from being beat up. I was there and I say, HOW DARE HE?!
You
You* held me tight through my nightmares
You helped me escape from these snares
You are- no *were
my knight
You gave me a fright
You got mad at me
You wouldn't leave me be
You hit me if I did something wrong
Yet You made me feel that I belonged
You saved me from myself, made me smile
I'll stay with You for a while
No, I won't leave You... you will get mad
Bruises on my face You made as a fad
I will cover for You, love
Lets hope God watches me and You from above
I promise not to make You mad anymore
You are angry, 1 hit, 2, 3, 4
I still love You
I know You love me too
Kim E Williams Sep 2014
I tried to write about abuse
How the hitting makes the
Hurting ease
The shame and fear rage out and strike
Bleeding, pulsing crimson shrieks and shouts
Curling fists and guts
Determined to be done
To be finished with the fear and frustration
Cursing, blaming, hating another person
And yourself is somehow easier
More natural
When loving isn't easily
There, anywhere
Absent from awareness like
Light in the darkness jumping shadows

But then, I wasn't sure if I was writing about him or her...

Ouch.
The cycle of abuse is insidious.
Johanne Jul 2014
my body is a jail
and I'm hitting and screaming
from the inside
MBishop Jun 2014
It was kind of like you were injecting me with yourself
Except you keep missing the vein.

The bruises on my arms became the out-played artsy reminder of your actuality
Though you made sure that when the reminder faded and healed you were right there to bring me back into your world of needles and twisted gravity

What makes you think you can leave for weeks
You're standing near but you've never been further away from my desperate grasp

The withdrawal of you is excruciating
Like a recovering alcoholic in a liquor store except there's no automatic door or transparent window to reveal a salvation on the other side.

The only salvation is taking another hit of you
So, that is what I shall do
Until the day I overdose on your *intoxication .
5.23.14  22:45

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