Victim or Not?: A Poem

We were hurt once
and then they told us
that the pain that
settled over our shoulders
weighted like the world
was our cross,
was our albatross
to wear,
to bear.
A green
badge of shame
to haunt us to (in)fame.

And then the truth came out-
Or at least our perspective did.
When we were allowed to speak
You    called    our    words    venom
leaping from them like they were snakes
calling us liars, calling us naive, calling us ignorant.

And so you blamed us for our pain
and we took it as out due
Let it fester,   turn to hate
What else were we to do?
We waited, bided our time
Wore our marks of shame.

We tore at the twisted stains
that besmeared, besmirched
our    forever    tainted    souls
We clawed with  our fingernails
until we drew     our own  blood
And then we tried   to pass the pain
The same way it     was passed to us

Sunburn: A Poem

The unpleasant
rough rasp
of an unwanted tongue
sliding and slippery
slowly and smell
over virgin skin,
sending pebbles
and tired resignation
over trapped skin.

Dark spots clouding
as teeth join tongue
draining, drawing
out the sexless
hopeless, helpless
touch of the flushed.

Burning too bright.
Burning too bold.
Burning too sun.

Love Hurts: A Poem

“You love me. I know you do.
I know you love me, you know I do.”
And it’s something that you
don’t deny because it’s too true.

But when did love turn painful?
When did it start demanding a toll?
Has love always been hurtful,
something that slowly smothers the soul?

It used to be willfully and freely given,
But now it’s quickly and harshly taken.
Is this the way it’s always been?
or is the change something more recent?

First tiny pushes, then little shoves,
Nothing too hard for you to forgive,
not when you were so sure of love.
After all, wasn’t love more than enough?

But then it started to become more.
Instead of one slap, now there were four.
and he made it clear that it was a chore
to hurt you and love you. But he was still yours.

Then came the bruises and agony.
Always followed by a soft, sweet apology
in which he was so genuinely sorry.
He wouldn’t do it again- probably.

So you dealt with it, or at least you tried.
When others were around, you smiled.
With him,  you held the pain inside.
But when no one was around, you cried.

And then for him came frustration
and for you lots and lots of pain.
But he always hated useless emotion
so you hid your tears and confusion.

Hiding so easily became second nature.
You hid from him when he hurt
and you hid from others when you hurt.
Careful, careful never to tell another.

You made excuses for him in your head
’cause he hated questions that lead.
And you said what you always said,
protecting him from those who wouldn’t understand.

You still wanted to keep him and for him to keep
because he still loved you…somewhere down deep.
And so it was all worth it- the nights of no sleep,
the endless purchase of make-up, all the pain you’d reap

As long as he loved you and you knew,
You’d love him unconditionally too.
And if it hurt, if it was painful to you
Well people said love is pain- now you do too.

Then came the bruises and agony.
Always followed by a soft, sweet apology
in which he was so genuinely sorry.
You thought you knew his psychology