I want you to hit me
I want to break the skin of your madness
I want to remember the pain you crept up inside
The stir in your eyes was unremorseful, but at least I grew in your fire
Relinquish your pain, remind me of broken times
Put me on the battlefield and have no mercy tonight
I remember being on the edge of good and bad in your head
I remember singing songs to rock me to sleep in my bed
Kinda wish I hit you back
Kinda wish you felt my back hand too
Tears made their way to my floor
Now it’s your turn to flood the gardens that have dried
Now it’s your turn to feel the murder of beautiful love
It’s a crush, it’s a step, it’s a kick in the side
To lay there on the dirt and see my face forgetting you’re alive.
I’ve got dirt on my knees
I’ve got burns from your outburst
You will make it alright
I did and it’s part of the fight.
No cruelty intended
No pushing allowed
I just want one shot
For the hundreds of lonely nights
(*MESSAGE TO READER: I was never actually involved in a physically abusive relationship. These are just extractions from my experiences with jabs to myself in a non-physical sense.)
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About Woe
- TowardNormalcy
- Words are our outright melody and no one else is going to play the songs you feel but yourself. Let me be more esoteric....just kidding. You may ask when reading my poetry, why do I use metaphors so often? After thinking that through, I honestly don't know why. My guess would be that language, though freeing, can also be restrictive. Especially in terms of expressing ourselves in attempt to understand ourselves. I, personally, get stuck in gears sometimes and I like to expand and break through traditional understanding of the concept at hand. I like to read what I'm feeling in different forms, and see if the language can lossen up more.
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