Bruit

Hear the words,

Bouncing in my ears,

Ignore the stares,

The whispers and leers,

Look above,

For help I pray,

To leave these cares,

That I cannot throw away

Rip from my chest,

My soul and heart,

Feelings I cannot handle,

They're tearing me apart

Dew drops on grape vines,

Tear drops on rumors

Rising a scandal,

For the hungry consumers

A mouth resists,

A chance to say no

Tasting salty drops

That are not just for show

Streaks on a face,

Red cheeked and screwed up,

Wishing for stops,

I'm not ready for my closeup

Eye to eye, nose to nose

When they're not going to letup

I can't get a grownup

Or else this will get blownup

I don't care about their breakup

Nor do I need a followup

Looking for a coverup

As they knock for a checkup

At least I got the headsup

To put on a little makeup

With these bruises, Contusions,

Black eyes falling to eyeshadow illusions,

Careless whispers of a drunkard father,

I don't care if they say it's no bother.

I cry, I crave, I rave,

For another life yet I don't want to leave,

But I don't want my  friends to have to grieve

For me

You shouldn't have

A little reprieve is enough for me

What they percieve, my relieve

He does not aggrieve,

My heart for him is not broken yet

Nothing left that I can bet

But my future I not only predict

I know it's set

The path I take,

I leave in my wake,

Salty dew faces,

And yet,

I cannot feel

Surrounded by the silence

Of an absence of grapevines,

Nothing but relief.