Crystallizing Moments: viii.

Come on
You’re doing it again
Letting him talk to you like that
You’re not useless
And you are beautiful
Toughen up that inner ninja
You promised you wouldn’t let it happen like this again
No more excuses for him
No more stocking up on bandages and peroxide, telling yourself it’s just for the first aid kit
The bruises are there,
Overthrowing your heart,
and now you’re living on fear and pain
You can’t do that anymore
You promised

You promised.


Love Me Tender

Crush me good, baby

I like how it hurts

When my flesh breaks beneath your knuckles

And swells blue in protest

Burn me good, honey

Drag my name through the mud

Spread your lies like my legs

Though you lack my consent

Push me good, sweetie

Further away from all I know

Isolate my mind

And ensure no one can help

Kill me good, darling

Dress me with your finest ring

I’ll wear  it proud around my neck

Until my eyes seal close forever

Agony Knows No Mercy

Tucked neat beneath my bosom
my little pea
coddled by the wind, we sway
its true
the instant you existed, I burst with breath
oxygen filled my lungs and coiled around my throat
and I expelled
with no conditions
a sob of acceptance for my reason of being
and here we sit amidst the bed of soil
evil in its patience
awaiting my loosened embrace
to lay you to your final rest

Literary Clique

A group of various poems that I feel are too short for their own post, so I jammed them all in one.

[1]. “What can I do
to become relevant again?”
I ask to my audience of zero,
as I find myself alone once more.

[2]. She had the frame that shook the world with envy
Eyes more furtive than a true magician
And when strangers approached her rather gently
She’d slice their throats and store them in her kitchen

[3]. No, he doesn’t know that I haven’t been sure for a while
And he won’t if its left up to me
I haven’t the heart to tell him
that I’m not who I used to be.

[4]. Splattering the room like a pot of dropped water,
the blood pours from the gaping wound atop the left of my breast
I don’t feel the maggots nestling beneath my aortic valves
To feel would imply that I am not numb
When I’ve been drunk on pain for as long as I can remember

[5]. They’ll look, they’ll stare as if I’m on display
though I’m merely strolling the sidewalks of the city
“Did you see that?” they’ll laugh as they turn to walk away
Oblivious that my differences make me feel pretty

[6]. Cobwebs in the afternoon trap my nightmares
Feasted on the spiders of the day
Catching flies in payment of our timeshare
A deal made when the devil comes to play

[7]. I’ll grab you by the neck in a cold attempt
to finish you
Your body, stiff, and doesn’t expect a polite
We’ll engage, there’s no time for introductions
Throwing your hat to the floor, your jugular sweat
running down the tips of my fingers
I force you towards my face
With no resistance from you,
and down your suds without a hint of regret.
A satisfying belch and a slammed fist to the table
signifies to your keeper that I’m ready for another.
“Another brewski, will ya?”