Talking to these walls
A wounded solider
Dirt and tears streak my face
I am Angry
I am Hurt
Bleeding on the inside a unusual flow
Only allowing these walls to see my pain
I would rather die
Than to let you see
My pain
Someone once said they would strip the paint from my walls
I laughed because the coating is so thick it's impossible
Did they really expect to see the blood on my walls
To smell the saltiness of my tears
To see the blackened parts from the mental and physical abuse
This isn't a pity party
So saver your "poor her"
I'm just a lost soul searching for a savior
These walls understand me
Once the dry wall is set into place
The plaster is added
And then the paint is applied
I use the same color
No one will ever see
The many times I have repainted burying the hurt with ever stroke of my brush
Staying consistent is the key
Sometimes I miss a spot
And theirs always a foolish person
Thinking I wouldn't have a Plan B
In between the chipped paint I draw pictures
Only allowing them to see what I want them to see
So go ahead take a Peek
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OTHER POEMS WRITTEN BY TwistedInk
The Road to my Life
I woke up this morning with a lot on my mind
This rode to my life hasDIPS CURVES BENDSAND U-TURNS I stay in my laneTry and block my path and I will run your a*s overHead held upHigh off life Sometimes it's a upper other times its a downer Not afraid of that one bad pill that might end my life I take them all A straight junkie Hi, my name is TwistedInk and I'll O.D before I just give up My sweet addiction floating through these days on clouds 1,2......Damn how did I end up on Cloud9 Following spoken word like Dorothy followed the Yellow Brick rode Except I'm not going back to Kansas Leaving my past in the past never in reverse I stay looking through my rear view never forgetting where I came from But I'm surpassing that headed for Pluto in my future Yeah I know Pluto isn't a planet So what I'm out of this world I as...
Who Am I?
Walking this road of self discovery a lost my mind a wounded soul Who am I? Where do I come from?
What is my true nationality? I was told I was African American that my ancestors came from Africa tricked by the Europeans ENSLAVED STOLEN BEATEN RAPED KILLED stripped from their heritage and given a religion by force I was angry Why has this happened to my people? Then I was told I was black Webster describes black as without light of darkness Without light of darkness sounds like Webster's just called me a demon Confused as to why I accepted such a title Because I have witnessed a person without light and trapped by the darkness I've seen the color black which is not the color I see The mirror show the reflection of a brown woman Brown define by mixing the colors Red Yellow and Black as of Darkwood or rich soil and I accept that Yes I'm a mixture of the earth I just want to know what ingredients were added to m...
Puzzle Me
I put the pieces to my life together like a puzzle you never know which shape didnt fit until it was all ready there. But you rotate it a little bit and it just might fit. Some people look at this like it's a mistake but the mistakes we make sometimes put us exactly where we need to be. I'm a million pieces but one day I will be complete or maybe not I might lose a couple pieces no matter if I do you still get the picture and if you don't it doesn't matter anyway the puzzle wasn't mea
nt for you rather my puzzle be dark and mysterious or bright and glorious the time it took to put it together rather it was spent with you or someone else the puzzle was still meant for me and it doesn't really matter what you interpret it to be because who are you to judge a picture of me
Could this be
Sing me a love song
Write me a letter Tell me why you can't live without meSee I have been with the guys Who never reached out for me Never tried to grasp my inner beauty Just satisfied with my outer shell To look me in my eye would have been to much not many can handle the free spirit that runs through me pouring over like Angels fallsBut yet they all want to be under my waterfall To stand on the edge to feel the never ending stream of my love that they think themselves so deserving of I want this but how many time does a girl have to hurt before the right one comes along
The Survivors
Sometimes we survive things
But we still feel like we have died People tell you be happy that you lived To see another day How can you or anyone else who hasn't fought the battle I fought open your mouth to say I should be happyTell me what you think death is And I will tell you what I know it is You know those movie's when the ghost is mourning the death of her young child She feels no new pain only the torturesMoment of her life once agoI walk that thin line and I realize I am dead to Not from the pain of loosing a child but that of my childhood which was murdered and I relive those moments over and over Just like that ghost I am dead and yet I am still roaming this earthCrying out to the night sky to send a star down and save me
I Wonder
How do you move forward in life
When it seems like your past is always in your peripheral view Ever change you make the upsets of your life appearOut the corner of your eye you see it But you blink a few times making it disappear Just for the moment But like a pimple it always comes to a head Before it pops all all over your face Like the F*CKING FOOD CHAINFirst your at the top Next thing you know your carcass Is being devoured by insectsThe past is what shapes you Pouring out of you like melted steel Molding you into the person your supposed to beBut what if that Man or Woman is not who you want to be Do you get to place yourself back under the fire Meltdown and reshape againI WONDER?
So you say
So you say she's a Hoe because she spreads her legs different ni**as in and out
NO KISS ON THE FOREHEAD
NO KISS ON THE CHEEK
Damned she must be some type of freak
Wait let me speak this b*tch so to speak is a confused little girl
Yes her a*s is fat
Yes she shaves her cat
But think about a time when her as* was flat and their was always this rat
Who always found away to creep in her room
NO KISS ON THE FOREHEAD
NO KISS ON THE CHEEK
Y'all not feeling me so watch me switch this up a bit
So you say his a thug because he's posted on the block
No love in he's heart for anything he's getting to the money selling drugs
GOTTA MAKE THIS PAPER
WATCH THIS YOUNG NI**A MAKE THIS PAPER
Mom's a addict for these ni**as she ain't worried about me it's four of us and I'm gone make sure we all eat
The Switch
Looking in this mirror I see a person I don't even know
She has my face Her mouth and nose are mine the fullness of her face belongs to me But her eyesHer eyes are not minesI can't figure out if the fire in her eyes smoldered out Or if its burning brighter than everHave I lost myselfOr came into the person that I was always meant to be Is it a look of determination or a look of pure failure She is like a game of poker and the winner takes home millions Unreadable She has her cards so close to her chest I wonder does she even know what she is holding Has all my rash decision Made my inner self not trust me Has she given up on me and decided to take over from here on outHave I lost control And then I look again and I see myself My mind is playing tricksHave I lead with my heart so much that my brain started keeping secre...
The eyes
They eyes stay sleep on The Queen
Seeing only a pretty faceA arm piece Blind to the that she's a killer To wrapped up in her beauty The eyes never see the moves she's making Her shapely thighs The rising and falling full breastThe arch of her back Seems like a invitation She's a diamond stuck in stone The eyes see her believing she's a prize One's hands cannot resist the urge To touch her But touching her comes with a price Not to get this confused She's no call girls She's a Queen remember that Think of her as Madusa She's a deadly hustler Never mind the story over her turning Men into stone She like the thought of your family Buying you a headstone Getting rid of the men Who wait in alleys for your wives The family friend who preys on your daughters Or the spineless stepfather who suppo...
paint on the walls
Talking to these walls
A wounded solider
Dirt and tears streak my face
I am Angry
I am Hurt
Bleeding on the inside a unusual flow
Only allowing these walls to see my pain
I would rather die
Than to let you see
My pain
Someone once said they would strip the paint from my walls
I laughed because the coating is so thick it's impossible
Did they really expect to see the blood on my walls
To smell the saltiness of my tears
To see the blackened parts from the mental and physical abuse
This isn't a pity party
So saver your "poor her"
I'm just a lost soul searching for a savior
These walls understand me
Once the dry wall is set into place
The plaster is added
And then the paint is applied
I use the same color
No one will ever see
The many times I have repainted burying the hurt with ever stroke of my brush
Staying consistent is the key
Sometimes I miss a spot
And theirs always a foolish person
Thinking I wouldn't have a Plan B
In between the chipped pain...