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Brooke White Jan 21
my knuckles are a sandpaper
stained with cherry wine
a muddied grape metacarpal
as talented as the devil,
yet naive like a child
MeanAileen Mar 2017
I'm in love with a man I know not to love
his heart will never be free.
I waste my days
a slave to his ways-
knowing he will never love me.

He is the secret I can never reveal
the best lover I ever have known.
I've nothing to give
but my body.....it's his-
fresh dirt for him to bury his bone.

Hopelessly hooked on him like a drug
wanting him day and night.
I play his ***** game
I have no shame-
taking it all, knuckles white.

Dead is the conscience I knew so well
and morals.....they ran far away.
Clarity now blurry
in a love-drunk slurry-
the 'good me' has gone astray.

To lay with him is playing with fire,
the flames, they burn me alive.
Leaving me marred,
hurting and scarred-
the pain on which I thrive.

A fool for punishment, I beg for more
even if all I am worthy of is ****.
Loving him breaks me...
it overtakes me-
but I'm not willing to quit.

I die a little more each passing day
until again, I get lost in those eyes....
All doubts go away,
so for now I'll stay
living this life of lies.
You can't always help who you fall in love with...
Azurel Mata Jul 2018
You call me
She, Her, Daughter, Girl
Shhhhh...
You speak with a blind mouth,
Look at me, see me
She isn't me,
Only a fantasy that you clutch till your knuckles grow pale.
I am not broken, I am free
But you hide behind a veil
Afraid to finally let go of...

Long hair, Lipstick, Lace dress
You question each time I show you my truth,
"Are you trying to hide your femininity?"
No, my femininity is simply not my definition.
Spend a day in my skin, in my cage,
And don't cry when the words start to pierce you like daggers,
Shhhh... Stay silent, don't worry, it's just a phase.
Now do you see that "She" just doesn't make sense?
You speak to me but your voice seems distant,
Bouncing off of me and echoing
Like I am the hollow statue of the girl you used to see.
"I am right in front of you, you know"
But my words are only heard when they come from her lips.
Do you see me now?

Mother, Children, Wife, Woman
A silent prayer each night for all the things I am not,
Stomach swollen, hair to my waist
The glow of an expecting mother on my face.
Curves, not edges,
Pink, not blue.
Delicate hands grasping the man who stands in my place.
Do you see me now?


Pants swollen, hair to my brow,
Along my jaw,
Down my legs,
Sprouting from my toes.
Do you see me now?
Bulged, Buzzed, Boy
Blood on my sheets, not between my legs
Stained by the girl who lies in her place
Fresh coat of gel and cologne,
Swirls of shaving cream.
Bare chest, Burning skin
Twitch of an Adam's apple when breath comes short,
Nervous fidgets with a tie,
tick tock,
"Pick me up at eight"
"Treat her right" "I will sir"
"Will you be my..."
"You're going to be a father!"
"You are the best daughter we could have asked for"
...."Son" I whispered.
But you didn't hear,
Please tell me
Do you see me now?
Any one who can relate to this but can’t say it, I hope I can be your voice.
CK Baker Jul 2017
They weren’t all cut from the same cloth
vilified tenders of an iron *****
some were lovers
or lucid dreamers
stage romantics
hidden under jackboots
and skull caps
and switchblade seams

Caste members of a forlorn pack
counting their patchwork and deeds
conjuring demons
around the console
filling their dreams
with radio reds
and dusted quarries
and faded sepia prints

Brass knuckles
and marches of the few
lightening bolt cracks
from a chilling blood moon
death’s dark specter
cold and ominous looms
the cobalt sea swells
near the nestled, and lost
Clubhouse at Kiusta
Show us some light, Mr Jimmy
KM Hanslik Jul 2018
Keep your eyes soft and your dreams
up on the highest shelf so you won't take them down too early;
keep everything that you spill in the dark locked
behind your teeth during the day, don't bring it out before dusk;
like secrets we drip over sidewalk cracks
from cotton-candy sticky fingers and leave our names
dissolved under each other's tongues, the warmth of you is keeping me company
as I try to crawl out of my blood again, they told you to leave
a bread-crumb trail in case your heart becomes too watered down by just visiting
to even remember the vacation at all; you carry
kisses on the knuckles of amputated arms,
driving through parking lots with your seatbelts on,
collections of constellations growing
in the bruises on the insides of your thighs, reminders
of salt & the whites of your eyes;

I'll always carry you around
like scuffed knees and the last time I told you "I'm okay",
I wanna press my fingers into you until your skin is melded
with fire and scraps of things that I could never be,
I hope steel rods grow out of your bones and I hope you gather
bruises before you gather dust,
we are all a little lost and lonely but that never stopped
the accumulation of well-spent nights
coughing up new ways to spell my name
(it sounded foreign before you)
leave this on repeat,
we're going in again.
It seemed the space between us became torn and
Profoundly distanced....................

Jamming bony knuckles and spread eagled fingers,
Lying their mapped out journey.....direction on point patrol....
Adorned by silver decoration, delighting in their skinned habitat
Shafted, deceit punching the recipient of the poison digits
Prodding and pushing their intent....dare you contradict
The intended carved out dose of punishment, Risk and
Safety......not yours and never would be; stooped
Down under the assailing bony palmed attachements
That delivered penetrating power, cupped around
Your arm til it became discoloured, pressure points
Backed you into a corner, up against the grain of the
Brick wall, cold and damp, the odour reaching
And scolding your nostrils with its stale internal vows
Refuse, stretching and protruding its foul remnents
An earlier life, when you were not under threat fades
Your very existance in jeopardy, your eyes pleaded for
Normality, willing someone to hear your silence, grip you
Tightly, not with malice, but with bravery and valour
Right now you need that shining knight, that white
Horse galloping down the blind alleyway, yet you
Know that won't happen for you're already sinking
To the floor, the blow comes sharp and stings, warmth
Exudes and trickles a path downwards, leaving your
Body, finding the cold concrete beneath you, travelling
Outwards................
Austin Morrison Jan 2017
Seven shots with ****** knuckles,
four bottles of letting everyone down,
Eight hits from a disappointing life.

It only took me one trip to the rehab center called your touch. I used the medicine of your love to become sober.

now I am dependent on you, I need you every day and do not feel the same without you. I have an itch when I'm away and a warmth when I'm close. I became addicted to your love.

twelve tabs of compassion,
three pints of self-worth,
five pills of your warm embrace,
And one injection of beautiful passion.

I want you...

I need you...

I have you.

I love you.
One person can change your life in more ways than you could ever imagine.
frosted Feb 2017
The Tuesday in September I woke up to you singing
The Friday in January when my mom sat me down
I know how much you loved him broke a sob and dropped me to my knees
After that it was just broken glass and bruised knuckles
More in love with the memories than the person in front of me
I think I made you up inside my head

Two years later and  
The old you is calling. I want to answer, but he is a whirlwind of
Here and not here, discontent and content
But have you seen him smile?

Wednesday morning and the birds are singing back to me
The old you is calling and I am picking up the phone
Brooke White May 16
he waited outside of my house
over sticky asphalt
the breeze a cold compress
to June heat

chewed cuticles pressed
flat against the doorbell
interrupting our family dinner,
I accepted his invitation

the costume pearls strung across
my mother’s neck spat at his arrogance
and left him dripping with middle class
she ordered me to return to the table

ignored again in her own home
her fist came through the window, pain
French arcs and ripples of glass
her knuckles were a sandpaper

stained with cherry wine
a muddied grape metacarpal
as talented as the devil,
yet naive like a child
from "Evenings in Jackson Heights"
Alan Maguire Feb 2013
Stark naked frame standing in her own feces but does it matter ?, I mean, is she important ? the old woman with the thin white hair that grows down to her ***

She's gnawing on a thought, gnawing on raw knuckles
knuckles bleed recieveing no care, just staring, just staring

She moves like the undead toward the female nurse, moving with time as though it mattered

she recieves a cigarette, she recieves a trickling smile though, the cigarette will surely burn longer than she will
King Panda Jan 2017
the waiting of
knick knack paddy whack
the toxic
neurotransmitters
the corrosion
of my 7th branch
the thought of
the reality of
sometimes lonely
on a little
planet
every *****
thing
evaporated
water
you draw me
your hand
covered in
lyrics
a limerick of knuckles
a sometimes waiting
patiently
a sometimes never
to come
CK Baker Mar 5
Pilsner cap switch blade
tie dye and piccolo
greasers and freaks
with platform feet
muscling in
on the bow legged hoofer
tapping
Bursey Hill Tram

Diamond tuft console
mullets n' ****
angels and saints
(unrestrained)
appropriately trimmed
as 3 mile wreaks havoc
on the nickers and
fighters of penn

Bangers and home boys
hookahs and sheiks
hostile geeks
breaking knuckles and jaws
on the caners and skinners
who are locked
and grinding the root

Desert boot foothills
boardwalk jeans
rainbows and sea fairs
and psychedelic dreams
(the platinum queens
jamming it hard
on the jade room floor)

8 tracks
and fender packs
the hottest summer days
psychedelic haze
center hall, graffiti scrawl
(sinister yet refined!)
covering the subtle
yet striking third ****

Brunswick cues
and red man chew
350 blocks
(on a solid Chevy - stock)
monkeys and beatles
and laugh in scenes
pastel dreams
from the long and coveted
velvet scroll
Tara Sep 2018
Watching the colour drain out of someone’s face,
like ice cubes melting shades out of your coffee.
Branches falling off your favourite tree,
foreshadowing its winter death,
but you pretend you don’t know.

Watching someone you love fall over the same step each time,
like they see a ghost every time they turn left,
so they keep turning left,
And they scream “Why is it always going wrong?”

Watching your brother beat himself black and blue,
like the kids used to do at school,
And now all he recognizes is his beaten back and bleeding knuckles,
but he is so much more than the pain he holds in his hands.

I’ve been watching you break bridges with your voice since I was a child.
I’ve been watching you use fists to communicate since I was a child.
I’ve been watching you self-medicate since I was a child.
I learned from the best,
don’t you see?

Watching you love a woman made me angry,
maybe I knew all along she’d only leave a knife in your back,
after you stabbed her in the front.
At least she saw you coming right?

Watching you break down made me fall apart,
maybe I was hoping I’d become strong,
but watching you suffer felt like being suffocated.
Yet you were the only one suffocating.

Watching you not exist in my life the way you used to took a part of me away.
It’ll never be the same again.
Do you remember all the days we spent doing nothing,
but doing nothing together?
I felt so alive.

I’m watching myself search for you in everyone I meet,
just to get some pieces of you back.
I’m watching myself run away from the person you are,
but I’ve been stuck in quicksand since you left.
I’m watching myself drown as I realize how quickly life changes,
and how quickly it ends.
Stephanie Irvin Aug 2013
Ground littered
with Newport butts
Laceless sneakers
Last nights beer
Early morning
Only me
White skin
They stare.

I ride along the bus route
The weight shifts as people climb on
The smell of half burnt cigarettes
Of sweat and fried food
I struggle to keep my lips together
I hold on to my seat; knuckles white
As I look for alleyways to sleep
If I could leap out of my life.
Christian Ek Aug 2016
You think you know what it's like to give up your heart completely?
To drink your heart break into a shattered glass with your blood & tears?
I blamed myself, I didn't think I was good enough, I was hateful of myself.
**** me, *******, **** everything.
Tears dripping on my pillow like a broken dream.
****, I fought people thinking that it would fix my pain.
Knuckles feigning to fight.
All the times I texted, called, voice mailed, and messaged and nothing.
You don't know pain.
You don't know Johnny Cash "hurt".
The past haunts me like a ghost and it won't let go.
Learn to let go
Zeeb May 2017
Wrenches clanging, knuckles banging
A drop of blood
A  new part here, and old part… there
A hotrod had been built!
A patchwork, mechanical, quilt

I drove past the banner that said “Welcome Race Fans”
Took a new route, behind the grandstands
And through my chipped window, I thought I could see
Some of the racers were laughing at me

I guess chalky grey primer is not to their taste
But I put my bucks mister in the right place

I chugged-popped past cars that dealers had sold
Swung into a spot, next to something old

Emerging with interest from under his hood
My neighbor said two words, he said “sounds good”

The voice on the loudspeaker tells us we’re up

Pre-staged, staged, then given the green
The line becomes blurred between man and machine

Bones become linkage
Muscle, spring
Fear, excitement

Time distorts ….
Color disappears …
Vision narrows…
Noise ---  becomes music
Speed --- satisfaction
Helena Abondano Sep 2018
Looking for the mirrors in your
crystal eyes
I was only, softly, trying
to break this glass of lies
broken knuckles, dyed in crimson
lack of friction, moves my core
wish I could drown in your prison
drown in the smell of our before

my heart again like candle-wax
melting away with you
I can no longer write
I can no longer speak
Without feeling blue
my wicked mind (these days)
seems rather obtuse

And I feel a piece of the rain is lost
only your rough mouth
ever made me feel soft
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