Mama Didn’t Raise a Quitter -- 23 January 2017

Blooming bruises dot my skin like sunspots

I’ve become so accustomed to them

They’re now like freckles

Just a part of my skin

My hands were not meant to be my own nurse

Stitches and sutures and split lips

I can fix others but never myself

Love is but an economic exchange

And the aches put food on the table

I can’t walk away because if I try

I know I’d be dragged back by the ends of my hair

And why would I even want to

When the moments after are sugar sweet

Gritty like a spoonful of sugar to distract from the burn
And you know Mama didn’t raise a quitter

Expensive Bruise -- 15 April 2015

All my observations may be sarcasm-based
But all you've ever been was an expensive bruise
We both still have so many things to learn
Like how to stop being so miserable all the time
For sharp tongues and biting words do not a relationship make
You know what to say to leave me reeling
And I know how to cut you to the quick
No one ever taught you how to compromise
No one taught me how to please
So we fight with words instead of fists
My pride will be the crime scene
Your mouth will be the smoking gun
The worst part is that I'll kiss away the smoke
And no one has to know what happens behind closed doors