Holding me firm, I can feel it incarcerating me.
With my ankles bruised from carrying the same heavy chains, day by day.
Chains, that will keep hurting my ankles with every step I take.
I can hear them squeak, tearing my tympanum with every drag.
Reminding me remorselessness that I am one more slave.
Working under its rules, shaping my life with my every breath.
Punishing me with all my memories and rewarding me with an unknown future.
At night it laughs spitefully seeing that it has caught me in its timeless web of an insomniac hex.
And in the morning it plays the same joke seeing that it has caught me in an eternal doze.
I wake up , following the ritual it has for me, slapping me in the back with its whip declaring its power over me, as my owner.
At 7:00 am I wake up indoctrinated by a false faith" Thank You 'God' for this new day ( I thank a 'God' I do not know a 'God' I do not follow)" I suddenly feel confuse.
7:30 am; I shower.
7:40am; I choose my outfit, one in particular that will disguise my insecurities.
7:50am; I have breakfast. My palate already knows the taste, and it protests intensely for a new tang.
8:00am; I walk out of my house, feeling the wind through my body silencing the cacophony of the chains and the beeping of the time clock they hold.
With every beep, I realize I can be late. I rush.
9:00am; I start my ritual, managing papers in an office full of sick people, just like me. Moored by their own chains to their own sorrows, with different time clocks and slaved by the same owner.
4:00pm; I plead it to go faster, to show me mercy. It laughs.
7:00pm; It frees me from my work routine, I thank it before it slaps me in the back again.
8:00 pm; I'm home the chains feel looser now, and I have a break.
9:00pm; I eat dinner same flavor, my palate prepares to taste the same.
10;00pm; It orders me to go to bed, to laugh again about by insomnia and wake me up with no pity.
It doesn't care about what I need, I go under its rules.
It threatens me everyday with my memories and it frightens me with an unknown tomorrow.
And, I only have 24 hours each day,60 minutes in each hour and 60 seconds in each minute to do what the calendar of life has for me .
I was convicted with a human felony, and I am currently serving a life sentence in this time machine.
I am cursed by time and my challenge is to defeat procrastination and monotony.
The sun sent a kiss through
The window but it never landed on his lips.
The sun tried to feel
his rounded his face
but he left with the shadows
Preventing the sun's radiant fingers
Caressing his face.
I too sent a kiss
Tried to feel
but my advancements
were met with
dodging behind the shadows
Pulling back at the last second
avoidance of any kind.
We stare with tear stricken eyes
from a distance
while our anger
Consumes all logic
A friendship formed from the start
I looked beneath
I saw her heart
No malice found
Just love and grace
Reflected upon her face
She had no friends
She lived alone
Her weight ballooned
To 30 stone
Her house unkempt
Her life a struggle
Lots of children
Who lived by
Through rocks and sticks
They made her cry
They laughed at her
Called her names
One of there favourite games
She did look different
From the average
Person that we see
But she held a lesson
For us all
Don't judge by appearance
This lessons tall
I wondered why
We ever met
Each second spent
With no regret
As I now reflect
It's plain to see
The lesson learned
Was meant for me
To look beyond
What the minds eye told
As deep within
Was a heart of gold
you're not him
and I love you more
for sticking through
when I was a bitch
and remainig to hold
my hand whenever
I get scared of big
wanting to delve into
the darkness that is me
I love you more
for being alive
I love you
maybe the sun looks different in california;
maybe the stars are duller, the water warmer.
maybe someday i will visit you,
and i will taste the west coast in the form of wine coolers
or a stranger's lips.
you promised that minutes and miles were weaker
than our secrets, our confessions, our connection.
but california smells like train tracks and your mother's marijuana
and brightly-colored sea glass, and sometimes i am scared
that i only love you so much because blue eyes and best friends
are hard to find on the east coast.
i don't care.
i miss you.
Your body, is a story for me
The story tells me
We've all been through something
And it hurts and it stings
But with struggle comes strength
-as cliche as it is-
Connecting your beauty marks with my finger tips
my lips on your soft but thick skin
deep smells, deep spells
Intertwined with love and compassion
sex and lust
smelling scents that are addicting
your noises, my reactions
Is it true?
Scared and frightened
But its a breath of fresh air
Because I've been craving and wanting
someone who responds
With a ring around my neck
Cross your fingers, hope to love
Slit your thoat, with hope
Whatever disease you have, you catched me
And its truth
I feel for you
torn down sympathy
i weep not for you
but those around you
who are covered in your darkness
spewed across their white clothing, are you
mocking their purity with your sullied words
they stand there still
too sunken to move again
their will has been removed
and now they stay with compliance
your ability for worship ties them to the ground
never allowing them to drift
peacefully away from the pain you provide
wide awake and torn
praying for your forgiveness
if that is what you intended
forcibly, i rip
the threads of your manipulation from my back
and struggle to my feet
you impress your power over me
but i refuse to linger
with my new found freedom
i spit at your feet and turn from you
walking into the oncoming slaughter
of distant storming clouds