Hazel and Brown

Poem about my ex and I

Dark brown eyes meet soft hazel,

Flickered glances, and then they pull apart.

Their love is as dark as
the Jack Daniel's whiskey he tells her to drink,

As hard to swallow as the pills in her hand,
but harder to give up then any drug imaginable.
Her scrawny child-like body beside his manly build

seems as odd as their relationship, but they love it.

They love each other.

 

Her dark brown eyes meet furious hazel,

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 (however impossible).

She is convinced that if she hopes and prays,
 she and this grown man, living as fugitives in a motel

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,
so that she only has him, if she even has that anymore.

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.
The crimson bleeds through any past denial, any justification,

as real as the police officers aiming loaded guns at her,

yelling for her to “Put her hands up!”
Love has now twisted, dark as his Jack Daniel, dangerous
as the pills he tells her to take,

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.
Hazel is actually dead now, took his own life

While in prison, yet she dealt with life behind bars,

Stitches, trauma and all,

And she continually moves on.

 

 

Author's Note

This is a true story about my ex boyfriend and I. Please tell me what you think.

Reviews

[afra]

very sad and deep ...... keep writing

[Paul R. Watson]

I like the concept you a exposing here. I know it is already a semi long poem but it needs more fleshing out more description. But already your words capture me just make it full and bursting at the seems with rich language! Happy Writing! I really do enjoy your work!

[eglantine]

Very raw, emotive poem. There is a TON of potential for growth--this poem is not finished--it needs more lines and more descriptions, I sense more waiting to be spread onto the paper. Thanks for sharing! Oh, also, walking on eggshells is way too overused--try to come up with a more singular description of how wary she has to be around him.

[Boy of the red]

I love this because it seems like you really have gone through a drug and alcohol abusive relationship. No one deserves this but it happens to often. I like how you wrote it but it was a little hard to follow and see who was who.

[Cameron]

Wow, this makes me think of a situation that scared me. I'm happy you could put it into words, and I hope you feel better now than before.