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love should be mutual
not a slap in the face
A poem from my book
Carmen Jane Nov 2019
You were always there,
You would always cheer for me
Now you've turned your back
I was about to name it " Cut"  or " Rebuffed" what you think it's best?
Ingram May 2019
Abuse does not always
yield bruises or scars,
sometimes the effects
are more like emotional prison bars.
Narcissistic Abuse
makes your mind feel trapped,
by painful memories and words
as if your soul was physically slapped.
The damage has been done
and it is hard to fight the lies,
that were imbedded in your head
instead you are traumatized.
I know how it feels
I have always dealt with this type of pain,
But between you and me,
I still get lost trying to win this never ending game.
Twalib Mushi May 2019
Something was inside her head
I tried very hard to find.

As I soothing her body, she whispered
Applying cuddling, she muttered
Like a beautiful mountain, her hair stood.

I know she felt something
But she was a bit scaring.

I heard a free flowing of her blood
I proceed with my delightful searching
Her heart made a trumpet sound
Heart beating I never heard before
As she mourned
I kept on going as I ignore.

She made a very delicious musical sound
As I proceed, she begged
Beg for me to be inside her body
I wrapped her sweet lovely body,she laughed.

I continued to take my round
Hell she's hot enough to be burned
We snoozed!
AWeirdStranger Dec 2018
I know that you were lying
There was, of truth, a trace
I saw it in your eyes
It's on your stupid face

I heard your words, dishonest
Between your teeth they pace
I think I'd like to slap you
Right on your stupid face

Presently, I ponder
Your lies fall with such grace
If only I could stop them
And shut your stupid face

My ears, forever crying
Now I have lost the race
Your lies will never falter
I hate your stupid face
Scarlett Dec 2018
you slapped me once
whilst I removed my clothes
and then you degraded me
a cheek's a cheek I suppose

I wish I could soak up the sting
and feel your harsh hands once more
I'd rather feel your wrath
than be another forgotten *****
hurt me a little harder baby
Sara Kellie Jul 2018
The opening night,
in front of packed house.
The story, a fight,
between a cat and a mouse.
The cat with her guile and
the mouse, all the while.
Powers up a ******' chainsaw
with a knowing wry smile.

So never bet against the mouse
with either money or your house
because the crafty **** takers
have slashed the odds at bookmakers
as to what's in the pies
at the new high street bakers.

Poetry by Kaydee.
Old enemies retold.
(strike while the iron's hot,
else...up prize cold hard steel Goldfinger
rewind: the following case in point).

Believe me you (stranger out there
along the information super highway),
perhaps feeling comfortably numb,
which I (personally experiencing futility)

vainly searching for Nirvana) attest
to be more appealing that flounder
(like a Phish out of roe jeers waters),
this Pink Floyd wannabe (actually live

ving an absurd existence as an A1 Deep Purple
People eater among a Band of *******)
oft times doth Abandon All Hope, when
this close (a hare's breath - imagined

by thumb and index finger nearly touching)
pinching that elusive Golden Silence),
when in the throes (up raised hands
signifying Abhorrent success) hopelessly

striving to summon forth a measly poetic
creation only to Rage Against The Machine
(Ablaze In Hatred) horridly glomming fruit
less endeavor, (a far cry approximating A

Blue Ocean Dream) extremely at wits end tide
feeling the painful impact re: classic mind
paralysis vis a vis Abnormyndeffect (whereat
most diagnoses an Abomination at best,

(strongly resembling, and easily mistaken
for gingerly feigning good knight two step
A BoogieWit da Hoodie), thus mental health
specialists advocate best ditch writer's block

as an Aborted effort gone south (by About a Mile),
yea...Just Above The Golden State (The Ruins),
when...with a whoosh A Canticle for Leibowitz
manifests and Jethro Tull appears waving a

magic wand while issuing Abracadabra birthing
from out The Breach of Silence inspiration met
with immediate backlogged literary juices, and
sudden Abrogation viz A Broken Silence, where

what appeared as a budding **** fantastically
heralded breakout New York Times best seller
collapses into a Uriah Heap of absentmindedness
twisting within psychic wind Abysmal Grief pain

full Acceptance of Absolute Zero literary talent
with strong considerations for an Accidental
Suicide Usher red via shocking the body electric
with maximum AC/DC self selected Act of Violence

deadening this once Acute Mind eve vent chilly Beck
conning Adam and the Ants, the Addiction Crew, and
most Petty full Heartbreaker i.e. A Death in the Family
unexpectedly engendering A Different Breed of Killers

who (Like the House of The Rising Sun nemesis),
essentially a Phoenix villa fied Gorgon Twisted Sister
faintly resembling a cross between Golgotha, Adolescents,
and Adonis, when...Who should appear A Dozen Furies

hence fomenting A Dream Too Late, Adultery admonished
by an Adult Mom with a doctorate in Advanced Chemistry,
and physiology of A Few Good Men inexplicably trans
forming into A Flock of Seagulls After Dusk matter of

fact After Forever leaving an Afterglow Against Time,
a veritable Air Supply ample enough to solve every
Algebra problem posed by Alice Cooper easy enough
to solve by average Alleycats, Stray Cats and Also Eden.

I hope you enjoyed Altered Images (ideally while in an
Altered State) Among the Oak and Ash during A Month
of Somedays assigning Amorphous Androgynous (A Pale
Horse Named Death) naysaying A Positive Life!
Tate Dec 2017
My life can be described as a man on the road
Never ending road trips to god knows where
Beaten up truck
Don’t give  f*ck
Wind lacing grease through my hair
As the radio blares

Hitchhikers hopping along for the ride
We get talking til I get them where they want to be
You know, then they’re done with me
Leave me with a bumper slap goodbye  

Least they had a destination
But see nothing can beat the sensation of finding one
Without maps or gas station attendants
I honestly can’t decide which one causes the worst headaches
Advil a poor girl’s novacaine
So I keep moving forward
Better to just be lost than be reminded of it
I’ll avoid me what shows me where I am
What shows me where to go
But I’ll get there
We always do
Robin MacCuish Nov 2017
She said: You're ugly
not with brutality
not with honesty
but with the sly backhand
look at all that fat
her hand branded me from that time.

nestled me into the crook of her arms
held me under
for way too long
I forgot how to get food without tongs

She was built like a rhino
and I think she wanted a hand

fat fat fat

to stop the hand that had slapped her
so she reached for my thigh
cellulite and stretch marks
she slapped them red.
Wish I hadn't run.

I think I would have smiled at her.
And asked why she thought hitting fat people was fun.
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