Family Portrait
Words like concrete
Form into bricks
Slamming against my heart,
Indenting
Bruising,
Leaving permanent scars
The cruelty from your fists
Makes my body bleed, too much
Suffocating me
I can't breathe
I'm trapped here, slowly dying
That you can't see withering away
I despise what you’ve made me
Forced to believe in cunning lies
It’d be so much easier if you’d
Just slit my wrists
And slash my throat
Cut me between separate elements
Into fractions and ratios
One bright splash of color wont hurt
I’ve done it myself
A few scattered drops you’ve never seen
Never knew what I did for comfort
A story on photographs, a mistaken family portrait
No cyanide to add to a drink
Or substance to cause death or injury
You’ve corrupted enough
Without strangling my dreams
The past remains undamaged
I can't withstand a future with you
If I do I may as well be dead
And I wont stop living because of you
I’ll disappear before you change me
I’m not a device for cutting or molding
Something to stamp your design to
I’m myself, a form of art
Not a shadow
An expression of creative skill
A voice
That succumbs to your visits
Of disease or injury
Your love that’s twisted into prejudice
It won't save you when I'm gone
Not even your hands
When the fingers are bent towards the palm
And held there tightly
To cut off your own existence
No
I won't be your mistake anymore
So take those pictures and tear them
Into two halves
Because
A family portrait holds nothing
If we’ve been separated for years
Form into bricks
Slamming against my heart,
Indenting
Bruising,
Leaving permanent scars
The cruelty from your fists
Makes my body bleed, too much
Suffocating me
I can't breathe
I'm trapped here, slowly dying
That you can't see withering away
I despise what you’ve made me
Forced to believe in cunning lies
It’d be so much easier if you’d
Just slit my wrists
And slash my throat
Cut me between separate elements
Into fractions and ratios
One bright splash of color wont hurt
I’ve done it myself
A few scattered drops you’ve never seen
Never knew what I did for comfort
A story on photographs, a mistaken family portrait
No cyanide to add to a drink
Or substance to cause death or injury
You’ve corrupted enough
Without strangling my dreams
The past remains undamaged
I can't withstand a future with you
If I do I may as well be dead
And I wont stop living because of you
I’ll disappear before you change me
I’m not a device for cutting or molding
Something to stamp your design to
I’m myself, a form of art
Not a shadow
An expression of creative skill
A voice
That succumbs to your visits
Of disease or injury
Your love that’s twisted into prejudice
It won't save you when I'm gone
Not even your hands
When the fingers are bent towards the palm
And held there tightly
To cut off your own existence
No
I won't be your mistake anymore
So take those pictures and tear them
Into two halves
Because
A family portrait holds nothing
If we’ve been separated for years