The sad case of Domestic Violence...

Been working on a new piece... I was inspired to write this by individuals who stay in abusive relationships. I've had a couple friends- mostly females- who've been situations like this although I know there are men who go through the same. One thing that bothered me is why these strong and intellegent people would want to stay in a relationship where they are getting the shit beat out of them but then I think back to a time when I was in love... or thought I was in love with someone. Would I stay? Of course I'd say HELL NO now but one thing I've learned is that a woman's love (can't really speak for the fellas) is something totally different, delicate, and probably the closest thing you can come to unconditional. Once they're really in love there is pretty much nothing you can do to change her mind on the matter. When she decides to give her heart, you have it to hold... or to crush. So this is my take on the situation. Its still in the rough draft stages but I hope you get the gist and can still feel it...

I WRITE THIS IN LOVING MEMORY OF LOVE ITSELF WHO HAS BEEN MISTREATED, TAINTED, AND FUCKED OVER SO MANY TIMES IT HAS BECOME CONFUSED AND NO LONGER KNOWS ITS WORTH. REST IN PEACE... BEAUTIFUL...

              I live for the pain you inflict on me. Everytime we meet you wrap me up in an embrace of chaos and violence... beautiful in its own way. The painful pleasure of  your fist smashing into my face. A broken nose and a cracked tooth. The sweet taste of blood flowing from my busted lip. The cold from the silver on the knife you held up to my throat... Its almost as if you want to kill me but I smile because I know my truth. I know I can make you love me the right way. There is proof in the way your hands caress and soothe my bruised shoulders and back. The way your lips feel as they kiss my neck. One minute you are whispering in my ear exactly the things you know I want to hear then next you are slamming me up against a wall.  Oooooh baby you love me so hard. I pray that in time you will grow to love me softer but I'm just glad it's with me you choose to spend your time. One day the sound of your angry voice summons me. I walk toward you swiftly and carefully. I stand before you and look up into your handsome face though I can barely see from behind two black eyes. The most ugly words escape from your lips. You tell me that you want nothing more to do with me. For the first time you make me cry. I try to wrap my sore arms around you. I beg you to stay. Your heavy open hand strikes hard at the side of my face. You ripped my heart from my chest... and you left...
                 Immediately she dropped dead. But because love cannot die she simply lays there quite still with a lifeless look opon her swollen face. She lays there on the floor... with a broken body, a broken mind, and a gaping hole in her chest blaming herself, believing that she is the reason he left. She will rise a heartless corps walking freely about the earth just hoping to find a real love in reverse.

Why I love to write

I was talking with a long time friend of mine today. We talked about old times and how much we've changed. A big issue came up that he really seemed bothered with which  was how I'm not really into playing the piano as much as I used to be back when we were younger. I told him I still play but that I was really into poetry more now. I pulled out my notebook and decided to let him read over some poetry I had written... Basically he called me a liar and accused me of plyagerism lol. He couldn't believe that I am able to write like I do. He told me that he didn't understand how I am so nervous, shy, and awkward around people but am able to write the type of poetry that I write. This made me laugh but it also got me thinking of why I love writing so much: I am a goofy girl but I am a very reserved person. I just like to observe and take in everything that goes on around. Some people may not see me as the nervous type but once you get to know me closely you can tell that I often use my laugh as a shield. I have been called odd and weird many many times. I am very shy around new people. Its very hard for me to communicate with people I like. Its actually hard for me to communicate verbally with people period. Its hard for me to stay in contact with my friends. I always get very nervous and and uncomfortable when I am the center of attention which happens to be a lot lately- I have no clue why the hell that is! Dammit! The topic of emotions absolutely scares me. I'm just a hopeless case... BUT maaaaan give me a pen and paper and all of that disappears. Its almost like i'm a different person. I can easily write about anything that feels so uncomfortable leaving my mouth. My thoughts which seem so strained and scattered during regular conversation seem to flow with ease. When I'm writing I feel so sure of who I am and I can become whomever I want. When I write I feel powerful knowing that my words and thoughts are real and are coming straight from my heart. Knowing that my words can touch somebody is a feeling unparalled to anything else I've experienced. I have to write. Its a part of me. If I don't I cannot be complete.

Through Eyes Like Mine

To see beauty and grace

In the most unexpected place.

 

To be in broad daylight

And still be in harm’s way.

 

To touch tasteful sounds

And taste the sweet vivid colors

Of life’s music.

 

To know that darkness is more beautiful

When kissed by the sunlight.

 

To having the strength to stand,

But have nobody understand.

Standing alone.

 

To freeze the time

By simply closing your eyes.

 

To free yourself

And know your worth.

 

To free your mind.

To See The World Through Eyes Like Mine.