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#hitting
“It’s okay.” You actually had the nerve to say it! While I’m scraping my dignity off the hardwood! While I’m scrubbing the copper of my own blood out of the rug! You thought it was okay?! THAT THIS IS OKAY?! LOOK AT ME! Look at me. Broken in the sheets. Tears streaming—not a leak, a flood. Paralyzed while the room spins. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. And you’re standing there... washing your hands of it. My god dam savior comes in a plastic case. Not you. This. The mask I have to craft just to survive the version of “okay” you built for me. I live in the hollows of the floorboards. I dance on the jagged edges of your mood. I am an expert in a science I never asked to study. Yellow for purple. Peach for blue. Green for red. The things I shouldn’t know by heart! The things I should have never had to memorize! But I know this math because of you. I am an artist of my own erasure. But you love me, right??
0
Apr 11
Apr 11, 2026 at 3:52 PM UTC
The Colour Of Okay
hitting myself in the head with a chair leg i sit on the bathroom floor
0
Apr 9, 2023
Apr 9, 2023 at 8:32 PM UTC
selfhaiku 21/2/6d
A True Story by Michael R. Burch for Jeremy Michael Burch Jeremy hit the ball today when he and I went out to play. He hit it, oh, so far away, a neighbor had to throw it back! Jeremy hit the ball so hard it flew into the neighbor’s yard and caught the other kids off-guard; they thought it was an air attack! Jeremy hit the ball again, above the sun, beyond the wind; as we watched it soar and slowly spin ... we gave high-fives for his awesome smack! Keywords/Tags: baseball, hitting, backyard, child, children, childhood, kids, fence, neighbor, yard, play, air, home run, homer, high-fives
0
Apr 6, 2020
Apr 6, 2020 at 3:20 AM UTC
A True Story
Square me up with a new a vengeance Strike thunder of a different kind Pray not to see my gleaming face when you're ahead But hear me first Boom loud with anticipation When you're behind
0
Sep 15, 2019
Sep 15, 2019 at 8:57 PM UTC
Hitting It Out
Thirteen long years spent under his thumb. Sixteen years old is when this begun. I thought I was in love , now I know I should have left after the first shove. I stayed instead, chalking it up as one too many drinks,. Time went on only getting worse, as I got pregnant with his child.  The control he had over me was more than mild. It was a push and a shove pulling my hair but worse than that was the emotional abuse he just didn't care. The longer I stayed the worse it got , now there was another life I had to protect. My story goes on for around 10 more years , another baby with him and many hidden tears . Please don't judge others by what you may see because behind those closed doors is a scarred and scorn woman that wants to be free . Free from the abuse she gets everyday the threats of him taking her life away . The fear of what would happen to her children if he snapped and did what he said, The fear she feels laying beside a monster in her bed, the fear that her children will grow up to believe that abuse is ok because that's all they see , So this is a sickness a disease, to treat any human so inhumane, I don't look for pitty but hope someone out there reads this and it changes their life. You see , I am not a Victom but I am a true Survivor of Domestic Violence you may not be as lucky as me if you stay I promise you you don't have to do anything else just get away . © kimmied 1105
0
Jun 24, 2018
Jun 24, 2018 at 9:59 AM UTC
Domestic Abuse
Joy is the sun's glare, hitting the hot air as I reach the end of a dark tunnel.
0
Jun 3, 2017
Jun 3, 2017 at 11:54 AM UTC
Dyad - 44 -
You knocked quietly, yelled loudly. Sometimes I can't tell the difference. You come in with fangs out ready to pounce. Little do you ever come for a plesent conversation. But Usually just to mark my walls with your claws again. Your voice is growling and your laugh is a long snarl, one that I can not unhear. The roof shakes at the vibrations of your foot steps. Thump, clatter. Thump, shake. Thump whimper. You circle me with your words, like pray, making me trip and stumble. That is how you win, isn't in? Make your opponent smaller then you feel inside?   You're a slob , you say. Good for nothing, you yell. Why are you always alone? You ask. Why ask when you know? Why make the memory of your words and the feeling of your fists brighter and deeper in my mind? Oh that's write this isn't pleasant talk. You are here to win. To mark me with a stamp saying that I am nothing. But as I stood up surrounded by nothingness and darkness, I had to remind myself that i am a human. Flesh and bone. A real person. One with a destiny, thoughts and feelings. Not one less important then the other. I am not little red riding hood who hid under hoods while being consumed by ugly things disguised as familiar. I am not Bell who did something she swore she would never do; she settled for someone she did not love. I am the lady of the lake. I am the tree that fell in the forest and dared to make a noise. I well not be locked in towers by men afraid of fire. I well not stay away from the sea and sun and fly in the same air I have always breathed. I am more, and I am bigger on the inside then you feel on the outside
0
Jun 15, 2016
Jun 15, 2016 at 8:29 PM UTC
Girls and Wolves
You knocked quietly, yelled loudly. Sometimes I can't tell the difference. You come in with fangs out ready to pounce. Little do you ever come for a plesent conversation. But Usually just to mark my walls with your claws again. Your voice is growling and your laugh is a long snarl, one that I can not unhear. The roof shakes at the vibrations of your foot steps. Thump, clatter. Thump, shake. Thump whimper. You circle me with your words, like pray, making me trip and stumble. That is how you win, isn't in? Make your opponent smaller then you feel inside?   You're a slob , you say. Good for nothing, you yell. Why are you always alone? You ask. Why ask when you know? Why make the memory of your words and the feeling of your fists brighter and deeper in my mind? Oh that's write this isn't pleasant talk. You are here to win. To mark me with a stamp saying that I am nothing. But as I stood up surrounded by nothingness and darkness, I had to remind myself that i am a human. Flesh and bone. A real person. One with a destiny, thoughts and feelings. Not one less important then the other. I am not little red riding hood who hid under hoods while being consumed by ugly things disguised as familiar. I am not Bell who did something she swore she would never do; she settled for someone she did not love. I am the lady of the lake. I am the tree that fell in the forest and dared to make a noise. I well not be locked in towers by men afraid of fire. I well not stay away from the sea and sun and fly in the same air I have always breathed. I am more, and I am bigger on the inside then you feel on the outside
Continue reading...
13
Time to think Of what is happening Ambushed in my own head The worst kind Of planned pain I'm deflated to the floor Fixated down Each whip Hammering at my back Tasting the wood I start to count Adding up the licks Like electric shocks Forming patterns in my head Finding logic in numbers When she will tire? This session's termination Seeking a hint of hope In her shortness of breath Whipping the same mark in consistency Until my skin is tarnished An obvious sequenced rule Once my skin becomes raw The sting takes a turn To a sharpening burn numbing quiets the scald Pain I bare Until I hear my Little brother's screams Punishing my core My heart beats out Through my shoulder blades Begging for my mother to hear it Our rhythm once connected Now detached Unable to hear it's plea Captured by this creature Who lives in solitude Her rotten soul   Living in her own reclkless world Where no one belongs It's over finally As she wanders away Ordering us to remove our mess A collection of carnage And sweaty weeps Dehydrated in my cloth of depression Erasing the abuse Where I retreat To my bed And expel cries For my ears alone Protesting against my weakness Refusing to show her How much she hurts me © Jl 2016
0
Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 2:23 PM UTC
Torture Sessions
I drown myself in music So that I cannot hear My own mother beating my sisters There's nothing I can do, and that is what I fear I drown myself in music Because if I don't I'll drown in anger Why the f*ck do you hit my sisters? DO YOU GET F*CKING PEASURE?! I drown myself so I cannot listen To my sister's innocence being beaten out They'll be as F*CKED AS YOU! Driven by anger, primal instinct and DOUBT! I DON'T WANNA LISTEN TO WHAT I WENT THROUGH AS A CHILD SO I DROWN MYSELF IN MUSIC AS IT KEEPS ME SANE! UNLIKE YOU, YOU'RE F*CKING WILD!!!!
0
Dec 29, 2015
Dec 29, 2015 at 2:12 AM UTC
I Drown Myself In Music
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.
0
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 3:03 PM UTC
Bruises
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.
0
Sep 19, 2015
Sep 19, 2015 at 11:31 PM UTC
Daddy Issues.
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,
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Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 2:37 PM UTC
3 mouths down the drain, (Talk About It#6)
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,
Continue reading...
96
i want to walk this bomb field without hitting the bombs no dog with me this time to sniff them out
0
Apr 19, 2015
Apr 19, 2015 at 2:59 PM UTC
bomb
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
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Mar 12, 2015
Mar 12, 2015 at 3:53 PM UTC
Beating
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
0
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 3:43 PM UTC
You
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.
0
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 3:51 PM UTC
Abusers
my body is a jail and I'm hitting and screaming from the inside
0
Jul 25, 2014
Jul 25, 2014 at 8:30 PM UTC
jail
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 .
0
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 3:27 PM UTC
Hit Me