I close my eyes and dream.
I dream of bloody knuckles and bruised skin
Blood pouring from broken noses,
clotting at the cut on your lip.
I dream of fighting.
Of running my finger through your hair and
tightening,
Of faces being slammed through glass
Of ribs crackling,
bowing under the force of too much pressure
Of dislocated shoulders, arms dangling limp
I close my eyes and dream.
Curl fingernails into sweaty palms until they bleed
Trying desperately to stay afloat,
to let your cruel words, flow over me.
Instead they burrow in through the chinks in my armor
I dream of hurting you in the way you hurt me.
Of stripping you down to your fragile core and squeezing
til you break
Of befriending you and
gaining your loyalty
Becoming your most trusted ally and watching
as you drown in guilt and shame and uncertainty
I dream of arguments that span for hours,
Of screaming until our voices are nothing,
but a distant memory
Throats so dry every cough hurts
Of no longer being considerate and understanding.
Of hot tears and snarling faces,
words tossed back and forth like bullets.
Of backhanded slaps and hair pulling
Of throwing sloppy punches that make my bones throb the next day
In sync with the ache in my heart and the joy in my soul.
I close my eyes and dream of returning the pain you’ve given to me,
I dream of retribution.
It’s a Matter of...
Yes,
Though it may never lose its vibrancy
There is a point in time where
Enough is enough
When you give someone your everything and receive nothing but
Pain
When you put someone else before yourself-
your wants and needs-but
are never put first
When their eyes reflect someone else and you realize
You are a ghost
Stalking someone who doesn’t even see you
Love reaches its limit
It wasn’t a book; it was a series.
They were called the The Magical Treehouse. I say series because I don't remember which one I picked up, I just know I did, and at some point, I'd finished half of them and couldn't stop. Looking back on them now, they seem very corny, but back when I first read them I couldn't get enough. They were my first escape, holding adventures that made me dream and inspired my imagination. Even back then, when kids hadn't learned to draw boundaries, to form cliques, and push out those who didn't fit the mold, I was an outcast. I was different-I didn't fit in perfectly/seamlessly and I knew it. It hurt me and frustrated me to no end, but in those books I found sanctuary. They made me feel safe, warm, protected, happy-a special blend of emotions I(at that point) only associated with being in my mother's arms. I felt that nestled in between bookshelves, sitting on a bean bag until my eyes got blurry from reading and my legs went numb. I reveled in that feeling, in the fact that a mess of paper, ink, and magic could make me feel so much, in finding somewhere I fit. That's where/when I fell in love.
Broken Glass
I hear something shatter, followed by a large thud and for a second I don't move. But they're screaming and shouting and I'm terrified, so I do what I have to.
One call, 3 numbers.
One address, one request, the entire time I move slowly up the hall.
I see broken glass and blood on the floor.
I see my mom, huddled on the floor. Face puffy and bruised.
I'm not one to get angry, I'm the peaceful one, the diplomat, the pacifist. But just this once, I don't I've a flying fuck what is expected of me.
I see him move towards her out the corner of my eye and anger pools red hot in my stomach. I move in front of her and stare him down
Pour my anger into a glare, try to look as rabid as possible, even though he's over a hundred pounds heavier and a good foot taller than me
But that's my mom laying there and she needs me even if she'll never admit it
So I stand my my ground and I fight to keep the tears
The fear
Pain and betrayal from my face
God must be watching because there is a knock
Then the handle jiggles
Then the door opens
And suddenly my uncles are there
With police
For once not pointing fingers, making backstabbing comments or in general, being the insensitive bastards I know they are
For once our family's together
For once I can be a kid and my mom, my mom
For once I can cry while she pays me on the back whispering comfort in my ears while our world pieces itself back together