He was my bully

ResLife Crafts

The hitting of the table

graduated to my face

Swelling after swelling,

and bruises that never healed

Marks on my neck,

how could wear a tank top?

His words crushed every bit of life

He barks,

so loud my eardrums trembled

His barks,

they turned to bites

My back he hacked-

leaning was a luxury I couldn’t afford

leaning on you was a wish I hoped for

My pen bled but my heart flamed with anger

so sad songs was all I wrote

He is a psycho,

in my pain he rejoiced

He was my bully


Dogs dark, rains fall

dogs get tired,

rain ceases

wishes are granted,

I’m glad you came so I can lean on you


Written in response to https://dversepoets.com/2021/10/12/poetics-from-a-place-of-pain/ hosted by https://dversepoets.com/author/experimentsinfiction/ Ingrid

16 thoughts on “He was my bully

  1. Words hurt, and those who think otherwise like in that childhood jingle, know something I don’t. Impeccability of the word: it’s important (Don Ruiz, author of the 4 Agreements)
    Thanks for the poem. Lovely.

    Liked by 1 person

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