Hazel and BrownA Poem by kaylaPoem about my ex and I
Dark brown eyes meet soft hazel, Flickered glances, and then they pull apart. Their love is as dark as As hard to swallow as the pills in her hand, seems as odd as their relationship, but they love it. They love each other.
a slam of his fist and she falls to the ground. He has become quick-tempered as a bull, moody as an artist; She is forced to be so careful, so precise, so as not to set him off. She attempts to stay in his good graces She is convinced that if
she hopes and prays, will grow up and change.
She has no choice but to deal with him for her life is now in his hands. She’s just a fifteen-year-old alcoholic at the mercy Of a bipolar grown man who’s driven her thousands of miles away
from her family, She drinks her fear and intuition away, Always afraid of what his next action will be. She stays in a constant
state of alarm, of fear.
Hazel eyes always turn dark, Always searching for a problem that isn’t there- A reason to hit or abuse her. Dark brown eyes sit stagnant at the motel room, Only getting up for more liquor to cope, The protruding air conditioner looking like a mini bar. She waits for his next move, his next action, His moods as different as day and night in rapid succession. She never knows when she’ll be hit.
She never feels safe with “her love, her man”. She soon dreads when he’ll come home, Never knowing his mood, his actions, always wondering “Will I be raped tonight? Will I be hit? Will he kick me out? Will he sell me for money?” He buys her liquor then calls her an alcoholic. Her forces her to have sex with him and then calls her a w***e.
Hazel eyes glare at bloodshot brown, the knife comes out his hand, bold and ready, as she is unprepared, unprepared for the man that used to,
should have, could have, loved her. as real as the police officers aiming loaded guns at her, yelling for her to “Put
her hands up!” painful as her
throbbing, bleeding hand.
Dark brown eyes have lived on without hazel. She is repairing the parts of her that he ripped apart. She is clean and sober, dealing with her past In the most positive of ways. She lives under her own rule without him. While in prison, yet she dealt with life behind bars, Stitches, trauma and all, And she continually moves on.
© 2012 kaylaAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorkaylaLos Angeles, CAAboutBecoming active on this site again! Originally started my account as teenager, but am a young woman now with hopefully still just as much to say. I write mostly poetry (but occasionally short stori.. more..Writing
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