Lyrical poetry – Singing Over My Bones

There’s no diving into deeper waters with you, You are surface level, ankle deep, I cannot continue to feed this thing, Cause I only put out and I never receive

Like the eyes watching from underneath my bed, When I turn out the lights, you take over my head, and I can’t do this, I’m spent

Tonight my thoughts won’t let me sleep, My voice won’t speak, But the silence screams

I pace the floors. Knowing for sure That there isn’t a cure

You’ve got a hold on me, my codependency, And I can’t break free

Because I like my arms tied above my head, I like when you grab my throat just a bit

Caught somewhere between ecstasy and abuse. You are the rope to my metaphorical noose

Pressure on my neck. Try to catch my breath Before you kick the chair Out from under me again

I could fight and try to break loose

But instead I walk a little closer to you

And tell you- you can have me however you choose

This is a cycle, My day to day I get up ask how’s the weather, babe

Inside I’m scheming bout the sun, the moon, the stars. Reading bout our ancestors and humanity’s collective scars

I’m channeling the wisdom of those gone before, I’m gathering their courage to fill up my jar So I can drink it in and maybe move on

I pace the floors. Knowing for sure That there isn’t a cure

You’ve got a hold on me, my codependency, And I can’t break free

Because I like my arms tied above my head. I like when you grab my throat just a bit

Caught somewhere between ecstasy and abuse. You are the rope to my metaphorical noose

Pressure on my neck. Try to catch my breath Before you kick the chair. Out from under me again

I could fight and try to break loose

But instead I walk a little closer to you

And Tell you- you can have me however you choose

Written by: Stacy Johnson 7/8/19 (Mother cycle day 12)

I’ve never been more scared to have this paper near my pen

I cannot control the words pouring from my limbs

Sometimes my words are my tears

Then again, sometimes they’re my peers

See, if I let you read them, you can use them against me, you could beat me with my own bones, instead of just throwing stones

I like stones better, they just peel off my skin-that means you’re not using my own thoughts as the weapon…

If my bones are my words, then I’m built by them, and if I’m built by them, and you look in, then you can see how close I am to crumbling

I tell a different story from the outside looking in, And no one really knows in my mind what’s happening, Not until I sit down and put some paper near my pen

And if I let you in, you win

See, I’ve never been more scared to have this paper near my pen

Cause I cannot control the words pouring from my limbs…

Written By: Stacy Johnson 7-4-19 (maiden/mother day 10)

Tag: Lyrical poetry

Arms Tied Above My Head

Paper Near My Pen