I’m surrounded by the whole world and
I still feel lonely but when you were around
I felt like I had the whole world.
You held so much meaning.
There was a home between your arms and
a whole lot of love in your smile.
You were my missing puzzle piece.
I was never good in art class but yet
for you I tried to behave as a descendant of Picasso.
I took a canvas and made you a painting
to explain my emotions better, to make you
see how much it hurts when you do some things,
to let you know what I need more of so that I
could feel safe and loved around you.
I thought you were such a good guy because you
tried to understand and tried to be better but then
I realized I was the girl that stooped so low as to
be forced to draw you a map to my heart because
you couldn’t find it yourself. I was handing you everything
I was, everything I am and everything I will be and
you were still wandering without appreciating this gift.
Nobody is to know of the pain she endures.
It’s all well hidden in the night, the dark as black
as the bruises on her neck surrounds
the cursed home and the cursed closed doors
behind which she cries for help.
The only number bigger than the number of times
he beat the shit out of her is the number of
makeup products she uses to cover the consequences.
“RUN RUN” she yells at her legs but they aren’t
serving her anymore. It’s not because they don’t
want to, it’s because he broke her spirit and soul.
She didn’t give up, she ran out of time to avoid
the swing of his arm and he knocked the struggle
right out of her mind.
She is so beautiful and so put together and has
such a wide smile but nobody realizes that broken
girls and bruised women always smile the prettiest.
They have to hide that which the world told them to be
ashamed of. They have to keep to themselves the
stories of abuse and rape everyone still believes to be fake.
Oh, the stories we tell ourselves to make
us feel okay, to alleviate the blame.
But under the surface, deep down in the spot
from which your strengths bleed you know
it wasn’t them who didn’t do enough for you.
It was you who didn’t love yourself.
They weren’t trying to knock you down,
you just didn’t know which ladder to climb.
It wasn’t them that made you not good enough
it was your own insecurities that ate you up inside.
And now it’s not them stopping you from moving
past the dead point. It’s your fear of facing
yourself and your mistakes. It was always you.
It’s still you. It will always be you.
It’s a long road and you think it’s straight
but your eyes can’t even begin to see the curves
and many turns.
Somewhere along the way you stumble
or stop to take a break. You turn around and
painfully whisper to yourself: “I got lost. Shit, not this again.”
You live trying to break the loop, hoping you’ll
find the breaking point before you reach your own.
You are going to have to have patience with me.
I am used to relationships failing miserably.
Since I was a kid love was the feeling ending in
punishment, pain is all I expect from it.
If you think it’s hard to read this, imagine how hard
it is to live it. I should tell you that I’ll try to run like
I always do but for once, this time I hope I’ll be stopped.
I hope you read that well between the lines.
Hey there little sleepy girl!
Tonight daddy didn’t fall asleep on the curb.
He is home, punching mom, breaking stuff, cursing hard.
Be a good girl as mommy said and hide under
the bed, hope you won’t end up dead.
Hey there little sleepy boy!
One day you will grow so strong. So strong you will
defend them all, like a superhero punch daddy through the wall.
Be a good boy as mommy said and pray daddy won’t
fall asleep with a burning cigarette in his hand.
Hey there little sleepy kids!
Your window is on the second floor, easy to jump, maybe
break one bone. You’ve already done it twice, what’s some more?
Now close your eyes like mommy said, tomorrow is a brand new
day for you to listen mommy explain how again she fell down the stairs.