"brusied" poems
This scent of you, it clings to my skin,
it clings like a rash that's boiled over from within.
I scratch at this poison that has marked my flesh,
the scent of you, at your very ****** best.
I throw off the covers and hit the wall with my fist;
should lust be a sin, if lust is like this?
And no matter what with who, how, what or where,
everytime i sleep i can feel your ****** stare.
And the weight of your fingers on the back of my neck
drives me to nightmares, and meaningless ***
Tinged by the moment and forgotten by the hue,
my arms are brusied easily by the scent of you.
I'm running wildly through bracken and fire,
i'm running as a beast would run from apathy and desire.
I, the lone wolf, i'm moonlit, i scratch and i howl,
at the memory of your face, and your sneering sharp scowl.
I, the lone rider, in flight fearless, reckless and abused,
I jump fields, catch branches, torn, bleeding and bruised.
I hide in the woods, and float in the sea
I'm hiding myself from the deepest memory of me.
You're the poision ivy to my deepest forest of bark,
You're the drifting snow to my deepest vision of dark.
This scent of you, it clings to my lips
and i bite my tongue as i stretch my fingertips.
There is no sense in this dirt that flies through my hands
my thoughts are lost as stone is lost in beached sands.
I rip at my skin and i tear at my voice
I made this my dealing, at my beck, at my choice.
I draw upon my body like a breeze skims the ground,
there is no more wanton whimper, than there is my sound.
And at night when the nightmares come and i scream in my sleep,
the scent of you overwhelms my body, and i sow what i reap.
I lightly collect my feelings and throw them in a box,
I wrap in chains and cover it in locks.
I have been fooled, i have been fooled and blinded by you
and this scent lingers, in a memory of a distant bluish hue.
I watch as you walk away, your hips sway, tail high
And i howl and i scream and i sit and i cry.
And whilst i linger alongside this sharp vivid movie scene,
i count my bruises and feel quietly serene.
Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 5:59 PM UTC
Soak the conker in vinegar and a bit of salt
Make sure that the vinegar contains malt.
Place a hole in the middle of each
Suspend at arms length to reach.
Bash them till they're battered and brusied
Clash them, cling them to keep you amused.
The outxome will be plain for all to see
The one that has survived claims victory.
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 9:53 AM UTC
stubborn stoic functionally drunk
my Papa embodied all three
his military hands were
hard & he trapped us
in these vices. “pretty please”
we’d scream, adding sugar on top
was the path to freedom
Beatlebomb
was the horses name, we were jockeys
bouncing up & down on his knee.
Beatlebomb never lost, but Bourbon bread
an early retirement
Once
Jim Beam pushed Papa…plow! Ol’
Beatlebomb brusied and feeble
fell short. Like the liquor, Papa
puddled the floor.
quit boozing!
Pretty please-sugar on top.
his hand harassed the bottle
“maybe later”
Feb 13, 2013
Feb 13, 2013 at 11:25 AM UTC
I tend to think highly of
Unconventional ways to leave
I put the stones in my pockets
And rocked myself to sleep
I kept the stones in my pockets
And waltzed on out to sea
But the stones made holes
And brusied my feet
Before I could wander
Out too deep
I'm in over this ocean in my head
But I've had holes in my pockets
Since I stole my first breath
So I stitched them up, I'm sinking now
But I mended them
Upside down
And I'm not strong enough
To not swim back to shore
But I've lived long enough
To think highly of
Unconventional ways to go
So I'm skipping all these stones
And going home
Jul 2, 2018
Jul 2, 2018 at 9:55 PM UTC
I felt you kiss the back of my neck,
there was nothing there,
just a lack of respect.
And somewhere in your illicit, dulcet tone,
I found the sweetest sympathy of home,
and i found myself walkling back to you.
I heard your voice,
I felt my pain,
I whisphered, a thousand times the same,
Thoughts drifting through my head..
Is this really us?
Are we not dead?
And still i reply with a smile on my face
that nothing you can do will erase,
and with my sweetest tipped monotone
i wipe my hands and make for home.
And how i wish, this was not me or you,
it wasn't something you'd do,
that i could just be there and never far,
never following that elusive star.
And a thousand times i scream your name,
but this is not me
i am not the same,
Every breath i give, heavy and lost,
I gave up your kiss
and felt the cost.
And my head is weary, my hands are tired
my thoughts drift
exacting and wired.
I expected less-little, no more...
and still your breath upon my neck,
I drop my head and close my eyes
forgive myself and all those i despise
Me, us, them and you
there is nothing to prove,
nothing to do, no running away
let me learn to walk before i learn to stay.
And with each brusied moment, each repetitive tone
i take my words to worship at home
as i have no disfigurement, no-one can see this loss
but i wish there was something
but there are no what if's, what now or buts,
there are no scars, there are no cuts,
there is no wonderment or lust
I just wanted to take you here, take you there
hold your hand
feel the weight of your stare
I swallow my breath, i sing your name
i dance in circles around you
and still i'm the same
and how can i end this?
what is appropriate at this time?
I tell the truth, i swallow my rhyme
and on bended knee, dirtied and torn
i forge through the night
close my eyes
and dream of you, and being reborn
Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 5:36 PM UTC
have you ever tried
to open a car door
and get in the car
at the same time
because i tried to do that tonight
and smacked my face into the door
after work
so now my eye is swollen
and probably brusied
so that's fun
Feb 9, 2021
Feb 9, 2021 at 9:47 PM UTC
Locked up tight, like i would never feel again
Terrified,
And all those selfish hands always wanting more,
So young when the pain had begun
Now forever afraid of being loved
I was left to fend on my own,
Im damaged goods and Ive made so many mistakes
that cant be undone,
What happened to the image of being strong
Was I wrong?
Was love never the book i was meant to read.
It got to where they would cut me to watch me bleed,
I was weak and it was inescapable.
And the disney movies never tell what happens after the credits roll
Maybe thats my cue to just let go.
There's only so many minutes left before i ultimately drown,
There's no other way im going down but in the same shame i began with
Let alone, with no love the way i started this
Dying, unwanted, decaying on my own,
Ive been brusied and broken ,
left used and choking
I know ill never fall again,
I cant escape this fate
My life is meant for heartache
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 12:30 AM UTC
YOU LOVE HIM SO YOU COVER UP THE ABUSE, PUTTING ON YOUR MAC MAKE UP TO COVER UP THE BLACK EYE THAT HE GAVE YOU. GETTING INTO LIP STICK TO COVER UP THAT SCAR TISSUE, THATS JUST ON THE CORNER OF YOUR MOUTH LEFT THERE AFTHER YOU HAD YOUR STITCHES REMOVED. YOU LOVE HIM SO YOU COVER UP THE ABUSE, DRINKING HEAVILY WHEN FRIENDS COME OVER SO THEY CAN SEE A HAPPIER SIDE OF YOU. IN THE SUMMER YOUR WEARING PANTS BECAUSE YOUR LEGS ARE ALL BRUSIED AND YOUR HOME GIRLS ARE LAUGHING THINKING THAT YOU DRESS LIKE A FOOL. BECAUSE YOU KEEP IT FROM THEM, THE INJURIES THAT HE CONFLICTS ONTO YOU. YOU LOVE HIM SO YOU COVER UP THE ABUSE, DISTANCING YOUR SELF FROM FAMILY BECAUSE YOU KNOW HOW WELL THEY CAN READ YOU. YOU KNOW YOUR MOTHER KNOWS EVERYHING SO YOU PICK FIGHTS TO MAKE HER NOT WANNA CONVERSATE WITH YOU. AN YOU DARE NOT SPEAK TO YOUR BROTHERS BECAUSE TO HIM YOU KNOW WHAT THEY WILL DO. YOU LOVE HIM SO YOU COVER UP THE ABUSE, NOW YOUR LOOKING AT YOUR SELF LYING ON THE FLOOR IN A PUDDLE OF YOUR OWN BLOOD, YOUR BODY LAYING LIFELESS, SWELLING AND TURNING BLUE. IF ONLY YOU WOULD HAVE STOP COVERING UP THE ABUSE AND RECOGNIZED IT WASNT LOVE THAT HE HAD FOR YOU.
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 4:25 PM UTC
The old soul surprises us all.
In that faint glimpse of something, something we can't quite figure out.
The old soul.
Persistent yet beautiful
Surprises us all.
The old soul is battered and torn in ways, we can't quite understand.
Time it seems is against us
The hour-glass, the sands, the small specs have slipped through our fingertips
It is cancerous, the biological clock, tick tock, tick tock.
The old soul; she is weak
Yet we judge the old soul.
Appearances are decieving, personalities are changed when pushed.
Pushed beyond the limits of our minds.
The cracks hidden in our faces show are real intentions.
Yet the old soul, knows nothing of evil.
I am envious of the old soul.
For she has lived life as pure as one can be.
Living life as one would see fit, not forced, not tamed.
Brusied and tested for the years.
Old Soul has lived life her way.
Free and uncontrolled.
The Old Soul
You are true
and I cannot shake how envious I am of you.
You are beautiful and one can desire to be like you.
Apr 6, 2013
Apr 6, 2013 at 2:58 PM UTC
Run until my feet are brusied..
Run until I get tired...
Run.
Fight until my hands are numb
Fight until my knuckles dent and covered with its blood...
Fight.
Scream until my parents hear me from across the world....
Scream to let God know its pain....
Scream.
Love until you see a smile on its face..
Love until you breathe your last breath..
Love.
May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 2:00 PM UTC
Wrists cuffed by the hands that hurt me
Throat bound by the man who broke me
Legs bruised by the weight of his hate
Arms brusied by his grasp
But he won't have me
But he'll forever be there
In a mind broken by HIM
Dec 14, 2021
Dec 14, 2021 at 12:50 PM UTC
Her breath hitches between each gentle kiss he places upon her neck.
Sighs and moans begin to fill the room.
This is all she really knows anymore.
It's all he seems to want now.
But she doesn't have the strength anymore.
Once she says no, the light touches become rough.
She puts on a smile, along with more makeup.
The thought that he won't do it again replays in her head each time.
Again.
And again.
Tears fall out of her brusied eyes down her busted cheek.
"what did I do wrong?!," she yells to the moon.
But she did nothing wrong.
The walls feel to be closing in on her now.
She can't breathe.
He has her in a corner.
When will enough be enough.
Sirens and yelling fill the air now.
Then everything goes silent.
It's over now.
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 6:02 AM UTC
Broken batterd shattered and brusied with fear. Born into sin but thats not why were here. Blind to our flaws our mistakes and disappointments god sees them and is still not disappointed. He has a plan for our life he knows what you did even just last night. It doesn't matter where you been it matters where your goin. You may think your wise but hes wiser then you. You may think you know it all but only he do. You may think you are weak but he will make you strong. There is no love because our mind has been devoured by lust. We fail to realize that god is the only one we can trust. We want the blessing now but have patience we must. He is always working things out but he will not be rushed. Destiny in his hands mercy and grace in his eyes. Its our choice to sin and him we deny. How can we be forgiven well we just to ask. How can our lifes get better well you have to walk on his path. But keep it up your way and you will experience his wrath. He is looking for those who wanna make the difference. Stand still' be quiet' dang just shut up and listen. He has never changed his way but he is the new edition. Dont wanna give up your tithes well thats why were penny pinchen. Pride will destroy while wisdom will employ. Are you still not ready for him to let you experience his joy. Keep chasing after the world and become Satan's decoy. You dnt matter to him but still you let him use you like a toy. You let him play with your mind to the point you dnt know what to believe. See god is within us so satan has to leave he has no ownership of us but god does you see. Faith is the key and god is our gift. Satans wants to drag your soul down but god wants to uplift.
Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 11:07 AM UTC
I'd love to tell you how i feel
about my day
But you don't care
you ripped my heart out
you don't care
You brusied me
tortured me
For what?
your fun
I hate you
why did i get with you?
Mar 15, 2019
Mar 15, 2019 at 12:21 AM UTC
"i want to make you the happiest girl"
the words grabbed her by the throat.
they stuck there, each syllable a finger
pressing down and down, one by one.
it wasn't a promise, but a confession
and forgiveness was already rising
like bile in the back of her throat.
she knew he could never mold her,
but the words had left their mark.
they kneaded at her skin, pulling and tugging,
she tried her best to bend and break,
and finally, he revealed his masterpiece:
brusied, she replied
"but you have made me the saddest".
Jan 22, 2019
Jan 22, 2019 at 1:49 AM UTC