Title: She
She was a strong,
black,
loveless woman.
She said,
"He doesn't love me no more.
He doesn't hold me down or beat me against the concrete floor,
doesn't hit me with concrete thoughts as he slams the bedroom door.
He doesn't deliver fists as gifts that fit my tits nor feeds the kids
with love from lips,
nor takes my hints not to brake my ribs,
he's got skills but kills my emotions when he breathes from gills,
HE doesn't love me no more."
She was the type who bragged to friends
about his jealousy, his strength and the power in his hands.
Yet the same hands transformed into fists,
fists that tore her body into bits,
bits that disfigured her body kits.
His hands transformed into fists that beat, bruised, abused and used
her face as a comfort zone.
His hands... landed on her ribcage,
but she wasn't on the same page.
So his rage landed on her ribcage,
told her her friends, "This is love,"
but her friends weren't on the same page.
"Dump the bastard he's got rage,
like an animal he belongs inside of a cage."
"No, no, no," she said.
"He's my man and...
without him I'd go mad and..
he didn't get love from an early age."
Her excuses made him and exclusive explosive in her existence,
but her persistence will ensure that woman like her face exstinction.
You see, if beating a woman was a test,
this man had passed it with distinction.
Every night neighbors had front row seats,
if they missed it today, tomorrow the movie repeats.
This piece depicts,
how on a daily basis a womans life depletes,
how the cycle of her life becomes complete.
See, she grew up in a society where heart attacks
were a result of a very fat attack
caused by ignorance of bioslim.
A society where woman believed a knife should be used for cutting,
buttering and terminating unborn life.
I prayed that this type of woman would never be my wife,
but had Eve aborted...
maybe, just maybe,
the Cain's in us wouldn't have survived.
He doesn't love her no more...
DOMESTIC VIOLENCE IS UGLY
She was a strong,
black,
loveless woman.
She said,
"He doesn't love me no more.
He doesn't hold me down or beat me against the concrete floor,
doesn't hit me with concrete thoughts as he slams the bedroom door.
He doesn't deliver fists as gifts that fit my tits nor feeds the kids
with love from lips,
nor takes my hints not to brake my ribs,
he's got skills but kills my emotions when he breathes from gills,
HE doesn't love me no more."
She was the type who bragged to friends
about his jealousy, his strength and the power in his hands.
Yet the same hands transformed into fists,
fists that tore her body into bits,
bits that disfigured her body kits.
His hands transformed into fists that beat, bruised, abused and used
her face as a comfort zone.
His hands... landed on her ribcage,
but she wasn't on the same page.
So his rage landed on her ribcage,
told her her friends, "This is love,"
but her friends weren't on the same page.
"Dump the bastard he's got rage,
like an animal he belongs inside of a cage."
"No, no, no," she said.
"He's my man and...
without him I'd go mad and..
he didn't get love from an early age."
Her excuses made him and exclusive explosive in her existence,
but her persistence will ensure that woman like her face exstinction.
You see, if beating a woman was a test,
this man had passed it with distinction.
Every night neighbors had front row seats,
if they missed it today, tomorrow the movie repeats.
This piece depicts,
how on a daily basis a womans life depletes,
how the cycle of her life becomes complete.
See, she grew up in a society where heart attacks
were a result of a very fat attack
caused by ignorance of bioslim.
A society where woman believed a knife should be used for cutting,
buttering and terminating unborn life.
I prayed that this type of woman would never be my wife,
but had Eve aborted...
maybe, just maybe,
the Cain's in us wouldn't have survived.
He doesn't love her no more...
DOMESTIC VIOLENCE IS UGLY
Do you care.
In just a single day my life changed
his eyes were so blue
his smile was so genuine
he said he loved me
we laughed a lot and had so much in common
or so I thought
beyond tomorrow there was hope
he made me believe that love was real
that passion is out there for everyone who looks for it
he promised the world and didn’t deliver
Do you care?
My heart was open and willing
to try and trust again
it was broken once before
they say forgive and move on
and I did a thousand times
this time I wouldn’t hold back
I would give him all I had
and hope and pray
that honesty and openness pays
and he would care
enough to do the same
he didn’t
Do you care
He lied
he betrayed
he gave others
all that he promised me
he angered and raged accused and withheld
he beat, kicked swore and punished
he controlled
he gave gifts to show he loved and cared
and took them all away whenever he chose
Do you care
He said I was his soul mate
he made love to me
with passion and intensity
he did that with other women to
he told them I was crazy
that he wanted to leave
and I wanted to stay
he forgets that he did to
we danced
a macabre dance
but we danced
we loved and laughed and cried
he lied
Do you care
It was over and I cried
my heart was broken
shattered into tiny pieces
there was no sleep
there was no tomorrow
nightmares torment pain and anguish
memories that haunted day and night
good and bad
they said move on with your life
forgive him
but the trust was gone
I couldn’t he could
he promised her the same
Do you care
The years have passed
he surrounds himself with people
who all believe the lies
he doesn’t cry
there is no shame or remorse
of course he doesn’t care
the children saw the pain
the screaming accusations
they said nothing
and died inside
they kept their secrets
from their friends
and lived in fear
now they are torn between
what’s right and wrong
who is good and who is bad
will they choose the same
will they find real love
with trust and understanding
kindness and compassion
or choose to fight and kick and punch
or lie betray and say I love you
who the hell cares
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