the endi trust you with my burning tearsand with all the secrets that I have kepti give them to you for all hope is now gonethe fears have overcome my lifeguilt is now my overwhelming enemymemories of sunsets are forever fadingi embrace the dark as an ever present loverthis embrace of yours sears my soul to the coremy end is now rapidly approachingthere is little left for me to do nowafter all that I've tried for all these yearsit seems like a poor excuse of a lifewhen it is finally over I will still not be at peacemy soul will be condemned to wander eternallyto seek forgiveness from those that I have harmedfrom loves lost and promises that I made that were brokeni drop to my knees and scream at the sky and shoutremove this burden and let me finally be at peace
wheresome of us laughsome of us cryothers ignoreuntil one of us diesthe dark turns to lightclouds move awayrays of lightilluminate the waythe path that was chosen
holidays and hell daysholidays are hell daysthe things that wereperpetrated against mewhile at the very leastwere criminal actsbut more importantlythey removed allhappiness from my lifebeing molested and yesraped on every singleholiday and birthdayfor a four year periodeliminated anything joyousfrom my entire beingi now find excuses to spendsuch days alone with my tearsmy fears and my angeri cannot feel like you dochristmas holds no specialappeal as does new yearseaster is but a time of painand birthdays are days of horrori am and always will be alonemy year holds but 365 daysand none of them are specialthey may be especially painfulbut that is about it they arejust another day for toacknowledge them would beto let him win and by not acknowledgingthem i let him win anywayso my options are to put ona false face and die insideor to just lock myself awayuntil the joyous occasion haspassed beyond existence
Battle Lifeas i sit and enjoy my coffeein the stillness of predawn hoursmy mind suddenly slips into nothingnesswhere it wanders to i haven't a clueIt is in the stillness,when my mind is allowed to roamthat i find myself thinking backto times not acknowledged in the waking hoursbut it is the time not acknowledgedwhich gives me cause to pausefor memories of the past are plagueand i wish not to suffer from themDays gone by, the battlefield,my mind, the perfect enemy,thoughts and feelings attackfrom every corner of my mind.memories are what frightens mei know not what lurks in those cornersshall i embrace this fine madnessor should i just drown the memoriesThe onslaught of attacktorrents my stream of consciousness,so, in defeat, I retreat into my head;there I wait until I am strong once more.
Longing for GraceChaining you downI see your eyes dilateI see your muscles tenseI see everything I want in front of meBut I can not have any of itAll that is within my grasp is but airUnseen forces are holding me back from youI see everything I want in front of meMy vision is messed upNot what it once wasMy need for you has increasedDespite my unwillingness to make you mineI feel the restraints that are holding me backA dense fog clouds my visionThere is a hunger for you that I have not felt in agesAnd I am not willing to succumb to these devicesI don't want to want youAs much as I doI want you to want meFor you to feel this feeling tooMy hunger for you is voraciousAll I need is to hold you within my armsOur bodies pressed together as oneMy whole being aches to be yoursAnd then when you give inAnd press your lips to mineI know that you love meYou were just pretending all this timeMy mind and body are not oneThough our lips are locked togetherMy body is screaming out yesBu
confusioni've finally made up my mindmaybe notis this what they call insanitybipolar maybeand this is my normali want to be alonei hate to be alonei can't stand the silencei need the silenceis this what they call insanitybipolar maybeand this my normali know what i wanti'm not surei'm upi'm downi'm all aroundi'm here i'm therei'm every whereis this what they call insanitybipolar maybeand this is my normali'm calmi'm uneasyi trust youi don't trust you...
a ravaged heartoncethere was a soul insidesomething to keepthe shell togetherbut that's been deadfor a long time nowand any vestigesof hold that once werethey are now goneand there is nothing leftto keep me from falling to piecesso my skin rips itself apartto show what little remains insideit solely consists of asmall, frozen and broken heartit used to be a human hearta heart like any otherhere lies what happensto a heart in the real mortal world
some call her Xactoher bodyso long and slenderfits perfectly in my handshe comeswith many differenttypes of bladesshe livesin a comfortablepadded wooden boxshe likeswhen i take her outfor our special datesshe alwaysis prepared for anythinglines, curves or wordsshe ismeticulous abouther cutting edgesshe takegreat pridein her appearanceshe hatesher given name Xactoi call her Opheliashe onlyspeaks to meshe ignores the rest of the worldshe willcompliment meon a job well doneshe saysthat my blood is likea fine wine sweet yet mellowshe hasnever broken a promise to meunlike most of the other womenshe isperfect in all manner and formshe is my Opheliaand I'll never leave her
the sun ... my enemythe sunmy enemyrecharges my mindmy thoughtsbegin to raceway beyond their normthe sunmy enemyrecharges my illnessi begin to shakemy hands tremblei can't focusthe sunmy enemyrecharges my nightmaresi can no longersleep to dreambut i sleep to screamthe sunmy enemyrecharges the urgesi fight to control themand all there nasty thoughtsof death and harmthe sunmy enemyrecharges my death wishsuicidal ideationsplaque every waking momentthe tools of destruction are handythe sunmy enemyrecharges the painpain so intolerablethat I wish to perishto wither awaythe sunmy enemyis also my friend
AnswersI don't write poetry.I just let the pen DanceAcross crumbled pages.I let my soulBleed into ink.As my way of askingStatues and glowingScreensFor answersBut They never answer.
we used to fly togetheri've got a good memory,but i was surprised to find the box;full of our scribbled conversationsand protestations (no, that's not right)declarations, no, dreamsof what the future might look like.we were young, vibrant, andbeautiful (and inseparable, once)and we thought we knew how totake hold of the future.for my part, i struggled withage as if i had a chance of winning;our battles were the talk of the town.you, you took to the passing of time with an eagerness that showedjust how ready you were to put away the notions of childhood.i've got a good memory,but it's easy to be selective,pick and choose the momentsthat i want to relive.we were foolish, confident(and oh, so alive)and we fell into our roleswith a predictability that is near miraculousto behold.i doomed myself to the role ofthe forever-child, always looking back,always dreaming of the carefree days.you quickly ran out of adventures,and set about finding new myst
Call it Fallthere's a soft kiss ofmedium-rare sunlightin the barelybroken bonesof this October dayjust warm enoughto think that summermay have stasheda day or twoin our pocketsbut each tomorrowreminds us morethat it didn'tthat this autumnknows little lifeoutside its barrelof choking appleswhere yellowjacketsbore, conquer and,still sweet,curl into a coolslow sleepof frozen dreamspaused in dawn'sblanket of frostthese short daysunder long nightscount down toa new beginningof the enda dark springof bright blushand angerthat will burn this forestnot down, but nakedand we call it Fallas if there's a misstepor slip involvedas if we make a choiceor skip the chanceto not veerfrom daylight's trailonto these our printsso well worn and re-worninto timetwo human sets enterand where it goesfrom theregets lost in thecrunch of leavesbeneath usour moon stays lowgiving trees new lifeand wind carries crieslike song, for miles
Empty But Alivebreathing you in, octoberi taste the numbing agentseven on the very surfaceof your conspiracy, thisprepping of the patientthis unworking of the earthsealing it as-ishardening the sitesof future graves, forced shallownot harvesting, just weakeningarranging late-year stacksof blurry panic, while disablingthe defensive responseso much decline to wagebefore the winter killsoctober knows i'm a foolfor the dark underbreathof its dead open airthe howl of the breezethrough its night fields, emptybut alive, and so very not emptyits rhythm of silencebetween barks and callsstalls my heart mid-beati used to pray for its enginesto restart, before it hit groundbut now i realizethat there is no floorto this dreamand no bottom to this fall
decodei pinedunequivocallyfor the quillin soft shadows:the swallow's smileand toothyflightthe curveof treebowsrotting-freshto planta buduphigh andhemlocking-mebetween a dreamand sleepand sleepand sleepyou musn't worryI have foundan ink-sourcethus:a quibblingcreek -my soul!It willblossomlike poppieson the pagebefore me,myfingertipthe pen
hummingbirds only fly in the sun hummingbird girl,you are the sunlight twinklingin my eyes. a letter addressedto no one ended up on nobody'sdoorstep, dancing around odysseusand his iliad. the gods whisperin your ears at night, lending youtheir words to paint onto brittleparchment. you are a mysterycloaked in fragments and fabricatedwings, the taste of the universeon my tongue. if i could unlockthe cage i would set you free,but my nimble fingers aren't goodfor anything except tying knotsin heartstrings that aren't my own.
tired...its no usethis may bemy swan songthe last hurraheverything isnow headedin one directiona solutionall oflifes problemsare weighingme downno one toturn toand nowhereto gothe solutionseems simplejust put an endto all the pain