Pi3c3s of M3

My body bears the battle scars of countless times I've fought
But for me there were no victories and there were no lessons taught.

Each mem'ry that I recollect is filled with pain and screams,
I'm haunted when I'm wide awake and terrorized in my dreams.

Blood and sweat and salted tears, agony held in check,
By the fear that some may pity me and shatter my self respect,

Which already bears wounds that just won't heal no matter how hard I try;
So at times I feel like a walking corpse that doesn't have the sense to die.

Emotional intimacy is hard for me 
it's a 'hide' that I can't seek,

Because I've been stifled and trifled, my heart's been rifled
It's beating is shallow and weak.

I want to but I don't know how, I don't know how to heal
I lack the courage to open up and the will to share and feel

I feel like I am all alone, trapped by the walls I've built 
Others crushed my beating heart but it's me who carries the guilt.

At times I do see a little light, but it's faint and dim and bleak
It flickers like a candle in the howling wind, it's fading and it's weak

I smile at times but they're rare and few, they're the mask that only I wear,
So no one knows I'm alone in a crowd, so they don't have to pretend to care.

I guess this is the end of me, because I don't know where I began
All I've ever been is an afterthought of family, of love, of friend.

So this is where this Pen will end, the finish I supposed...
So I won't try to think of any winsome quip or soliloquy or prose

Like me this poem will fade away and silently come to a close.

By: Nate Booker, Sr.
"Genius under Construction
Copyright © 2023 Nathaniel A. Booker, Sr.

When is it that love is not enough?
When is it that a kiss just won't do?
And why is it the love that he very often professed
has transformed into hatred for you?
 
Why is it her best suddenly isn't enough?
Why do you suddenly loathe her presence,
when all that she does is love you completely,
with her heart, her soul and her essence.
 
So you endure the slaps that have replaced all the kisses,
you endure the nightmare that has replaced all the wishes.
Your ankle’s been sprained, your wrist has been twisted,
when all you did was hug him and said how much you missed him.
 
She wanted you to feel what you seem to have forgotten,
all she wanted was love but you treat her so rotten.
And now on your anniversary, the gift that you give her...
A blackened eye, a broken wrist and a kick to her liver.
 
She lies in intensive care, a heartbeat from death,
tubes down her throat and she labors for breath.
Love is what she gave but it wasn't returned,
a happily-ever-after that’s now crashed and burned.
 
He looks out at a world in which he'll never again live,
But only 5 years for manslaughter, that’s what the courts give.
He treated her bad, he hurt and abused her,
he extinguished her light because he chose to abuse her.
 
A marble headstone marks the spot where she lies,
her funeral was so sad, but that’s no surprise.
Her epithet read what has shaped my future,
“How many women have to die 
before domestic violence is considered abuse 
in the Eyes of the Abuser?”

By: Nate Booker, Sr.
"Genius under Construction"
Copyright © Nathaniel A. Booker, Sr.