Beauty is a beast
          Underneath all of her makeup and lies

The wind howls
outside my bedroom window
shaking me
my heart; my soul

it screams
while you sit there
drinking sweet-smelling coffee
a baby boy in Africa
cries of hunger
and aching ribs.

while you are curled up
under warm and soft blankets
an old and lonely man
wanders the darkest streets
looking for warmth;
a home

while you hide there
surrounded by light and family
with an aura of ungratefulness
you are lost in the rays of your technologies
with a frown on your angelic face
when a weeping woman
shakes and prays
for her gone children to reach Heaven happily
but you dare forget God to a screen?

my house shakes
from Wind's agonizing words
and a streak of cold
trickles into my haven
along with the words
"what am I doing?"

somehow
my stiff legs reach
a window
and the arms in front of me
pull it open
to reveal no sound at all

where is the wind?
did he leave just as
he touched
my heart; my soul
making me waver?
or does a gust not howl ,
speak,
and isn't heard?

no
the wind was here
for how else did the once-twinkling snowflakes
suddenly freeze
and lose all of their beauty?

no one but Wind
would take the innocence
of such young and beautiful white specks
just as they landed
in this cold,
dark world

no one but Wind
would flare you with reality
enough to make you cry with obliviousness
for this wind; my Wind
he is the voice off all those
who have faced
life's stinging brutality;
him
instead of
hiding under covers
and whispering morbid lies
that
everything is okay

The proudest of men that walk the earth
Have been doused in glory since the day of their births
They chase after those who've run away
Speak when there is not a word to say

And their greatest endeavor is to convert the innocent
Hungry for the women striking young and brilliant
Unbelieving of a lady's independence
Sure that all women crave their presence

Like rabid dogs, the proud men search
For those to quench their undying thirst
To be loved and accepted of men of the heart
But these men only search in the emptiness of dark

How can they deny the truth in their faces?
They imbalance the world and its natural paces
No one can love an arrogant, proud man
But they search and search, yet they never understand

That love is for those who are willing to fail

Artist
The only description of her
The way her eyelashes glitter
In the shining sunlight
The way her pale face
Is angled to imperfection
In a captivating way
Where you have to feel every curve
Every indent on her cheeks

The way her wrists are stained
With the color of her hair
A raw red
Exploding into the world
Exposing her
From all the rest

It's just a shame
That art is only admired
After it's lifespan is gone

Men I don’t love
Send me emails telling me that they care about people like me.
They say,
I am committed to helping people achieve their dreams by providing the right support. I want to thank you for your interest in utilizing this opportunity.

The boy I know
Sends me a message saying he saw potential in us.
He writes,
I wanted to help you become better. And when you spoke to me that first day, I thought that maybe we could become something greater than we are now. Together.

Men that know me
Send me emails saying that they liked learning what’s in my head.  
They say,
I recognize the time and effort you put into this and truly appreciate that you shared your thoughts and ideas with me.

The boy that doesn’t love me
Sends me a message saying he knows what he meant to me.
He writes,
I know how hard you tried to make this work. I think you’re amazing, how you always give your all into everything. How you gave your all to me.

Men I don’t know
Send me copy-paste emails that I have memorized.
They say,
There was an outstanding selection of applicants this year and the competition was intense. I regret to inform you that you were not selected to receive an award.

The boy I love
Sends me a message saying what Men I Don’t Know couldn’t.
He writes,
*It’s just that this isn’t what I’m looking for.
You’re not who I am looking for.

Within the lonely tunnels of the underground
lurk soft honeysuckle smiles.
These young hopefuls are surrounded by darkness
but in each one, there is a hidden light.

For some, this light is an idea.
For others, a burning passion waiting to be exploited.
But for a select few, this light is their whole self
- their being is a treasure yet to be released into the world.

He is the first light that shone so wildly,
I could see it even from within his mind.
He is dipped in talent and purity,
unseen in the higher, filthier realm.

One day, these hopefuls will surface from the underground.
And he will be the first spark of this fire
that illuminates our hopeless world
with the eternal flame of art.

As my Bright Hopeful shines above
I will remain in the dark underground
where my light has long since dimmed out.
And i will wonder if he remembers the match that lit him.

she is not afraid to love, she is afraid of being loved. she is afraid of him putting all his faith in her, just so she can break down, as she does so often, and shatter a bond not found in anyone else. she is afraid to see him cry and to tear the heart he so willingly exposes.

when he needs her, she is there. she uses that time to help him just as she does to help herself. as they speak, she tries to memorize the sound of his rumbling voice. her words are soft with him but never so soft as for him to fall into a slumber and never desire to wake up. she wants him to find a replaceable solace within her presence.

she loves him silently, cares for him without pay. she acts like she doesn't need his money when she aches for it, as we all do. eventually her heart will break from a lack of reciprocity. she knows this, yet she has set her path onto love-bound self-destruction. as long as he doesn't love her, she can keeping loving him. such is the life of the volatile.

he scraped his knee once,
when he was young,
and began to weep as
his blood trickled onto the sidewalk

his mother cleaned him up,
rested his head upon her ever-bruised shoulder,
stroked his hair,
and sang

     hush little baby,
     don't you cry
     it'll all hurt much less
     when you die

she scraped her knee once,
when she grew old,
and began to cry as
her blood trickled onto the floor boards

her son cleaned it up,
rested her head on his sturdy shoulder
stroked her hair,
and sang

     *hush now mama,
     don't you weep
     he's long gone now so
     you can sleep

his roots are hidden
no one knows where he has been
or what he has been through.
they only know he was elsewhere once-
an elsewhere where experiences are best left hidden

his stem is course
composed of hardening resistance,
stiffened from a difficult childhood.
this is his base, a stability within him.
these lessons hold him up and keep him going

his thorns are soft
they only look rough to give the illusion of being guarded,
but his defenses are easily torn through.
if you touch him, he knows he'll bruise
but he will never make you bleed

his petals are wondrous
their velvet smells of boys' cologne
and are dotted in dewy teardrops.
he flourishes for the hands that dares to stroke him
but the hands only plucks his petals and leave the rest of him behind

Stress has carved its scars on your forehead.
Joy has softened the edges of your eyes.
You wanted beauty, but you got wisdom instead.
To you, the years have not been kind

I do not know you,
But I feel you.

The way your words brighten the page
Makes my heart ache.

I want someone to love you back
To be yours
And make the glossy tears in your eyes become those of happiness.

I don't know you outside of poetry
But I know you must be a wonderful person
So please
Feel free to pour your heart into these pages
And know that I'm listening.

I want your memories to light up the dimples on your face
Your broken heart to make you stronger
Because I can feel you,
Your presence in your words.

They're beautiful.
And so are you.

I don't know you.
But I wish I did.

You are you.
You care about the little things;
About money and status,
About love and power.
You care about right now.
And about nothing more
     But there is so much more to see.

Take a step back
Now you are human.
Your place in society is precious.
You, just as everyone else, are worth something .
You care about justice,
About the state of your world
And it hurts you
     But you know you suffer less than others.

Take another step back
You are a body.
Your presence is replaceable and unfelt.
Your days are spent seeking pleasure and pain.
You live only to feel alive
Knowing that you’ll soon be dust blowing in the wind
And it makes you feel temporary
     But you last longer than you know.

On your last step back
You are a soul.
You feel no pain nor pity- nothing at all
You live in sickly silent peace
As you float aimlessly through time.
You are a piece of the universe
Hoping that the clocks will stop some day
And you will be called to rest
     But your piece in this universe will never die.

You are so much more than your shell.
You are the past, the present and the future
Embodied in a distracted human being.
You are every fibre of the universe that has created you.
You are eternal yet temporary
And it’s confusingly simple
     But you won’t realize your worth unless you *step back.

speak up darling, you've got a beautiful voice.
speak of the worlds inside your head.
tell me about the poems you wrote when you were young,
tell me off all the nights you haven't slept.

you sit away quietly, with your head in the clouds.
you're much too far, can I pull you down?
your voice is my reality, it never fails to remind me
that there are mysteries in the world and I can't wait until yours find me.

Welling up inside of me
Like the guilt from things undone
Lies the horrid emotions
We don't deal to feel
For each other

Deny, deny, deny
The word has become the playlist
Of our lives
Bobbing in our heads
Wherever we go

Keep your thoughts hidden
Like the treasure of your skin
So preciously unique
Unlike any other I've heard
Rough like the tide washing me away

My heart no longer speeds
Up at your sight
My head no longer dizzies
As you speak your careful words
I've learned to burry it all in a well

Deep, deep in a well
Somewhere in my chest,
In my thoughts
Where you can't retrieve it

Deny, deny, deny

On evenings when my blood runs thin
But my spirit aches for release,
I pull out my pen and paper
And begin to write
The words I cannot bring myself to say

My hand does not move
As the paper beneath it
Grows damp under my ducked head.

I am not a poet, I think.
Who is a poet other than one who captures
emotions inside words?
I am not a poet, I think,
Because emotion does not drive my pen.

I am a translator.
I translate regret into tears,
And the tears smudge the empty words I wrote in ink
To paint a portrait
Of myself:
the one who tried to feel but couldn't.

Excuse me
For being a little pessimist
But are you forgetting
That everything you do
Since birth until now
Isn't at all
Steps to success
Everything just leads
To the same dark, death

I'm too young
To know
To care
To understand
To bare
The situation and its importance

I'm too short
To reach
High enough for the stars
To ever make it far
In life
Because I extract it into bleach

I'm too ugly
To understand
How hard people work
To keep themselves neat
With perfectly pressed shirts
And gorgeous pearl eyes
I'll never realize
Never stop the lies

I'm too stupid
To care
About people
And what they wear
What they say
What they do
How they think of me
What they prove

I'm too
Fat
Idiotic
A druggy;
Alcoholic
High on the world
And drunk on loneliness
An alien
That is their specimen

I'm not.

I'm older than you can imagine,
Reaching farther than what you see,
Beautiful, for I am God's creation,
I just think a little differently.

If you're afraid of the unknown
Or of "things" who differ
The world will move on without you
While I run ahead
Quicker
Than light can travel

(Is that "too" much for you?)

Each line on your tiny palm
Engraves a moment of life
The sound of your first cry
The cut from your first fight

My dear, the wrinkles around your eyes
Are not from the gain of age
But from the years of smiling and laughter
They'll continue to pile through even the last stage

The whiteness of your hair
Is not the lost of your beautiful youth
It is the sky and heavens calling for you
Your weightless body is nearing the truth

Once you are gone, my dear
I'll remember not your age, but our times
Your smiles and wrinkles and supple skin
Is all a marker of your climb

Every step you took on this rotting Earth
Kept it one second from being destroyed
So when you can no longer walk and talk
My dear, this heart will be just an empty void

Longing for what once was

If I ever told you
That in my heart
I carry a stone
Weighing down my feelings and hatred
Would you so kindly believe me?

If I ever told you
That sometimes
I cry too
Because I can't make sense of anything
Not anyone
Would you wipe away my tears?

If I ever told you
That I need you
To tell all of these things to
The ones that weigh down my chest
Would you ever listen?

Maybe
Just a one-in-a-million maybe
You would
But

If I ever told you
That you'd never be able to lift the stone
That it's been on too long
Would you still try?

I guess I don't know
I guess it doesn't matter
Because, baby, as long as your happy
I never want to tell you
What's on my mind
And ruin your smile

I guess I shouldn't care
I'll just be here alone
And watch you smile
From the corner of my eye
Pretending I'm fine

And singing to myself
*"If I ever, if I ever..."

Tell Them
My Sweetheart
That I never wanted a funeral
But it was only
For tradition

Tell Them
Not to cry
Not to mourn
But rather
Sit in a circle, knee to knee
And share stories of me with them
Bad ones
Good ones
All of them so that I am seen
Even after death
As an imperfect human being

Tell them
To wear black skirts and no makeup
And high spiked boots
With skull rings
And silver chains
So that they remember my dark side

Tell Them
Not to miss me
Not the slightest
And instead
Await the day
They can see me again
If they pray I make it to heaven

Tell Them
To tell me their stories once in a while
I like a good laugh
I like a short smile
But even if not
They can tell me their doubts
And I'll listen
Because I love voices that talk to me
And reveal a journey

And when They bury me
Will you all pray
That I end up safe
Many many miles away
Away from you all
But still in your hearts
I'll be sewn
As tightly as my
Pursed, frowned lips

Tell Them
Sweetheart
That I never
Left
(because I was always right)

I watch the tear leak down your cheek
Escaped from your red rimmed eyes
In my arms I feel you shaking
Trying to so hard to say good-bye

Darling, don't make it ******* yourself
Wasn't it easier to grab your bags and go?
There was no need to tell me you'd be gone
I'd settle for a simple 'I'll see you tomorrow'

I won't believe I've left your heart
Until the day you've completely left mine
Telling me you're leaving doesn't make me believe it
Until you're truly gone and we've run out of time

When you'd come to my window while the world was asleep and whisper into my ear, "You're beautiful,"  I believed you.

I don't think I was, though. I don't think I'll ever be.

I think your magic momentarily blinded me from seeing my own distorted reflection.

I'm ugly. I'm twisted. But that's okay. We all are.

We are all desire and desperation held together with illusive morals.

I know now that your whispers were that of lovely lies.

I was not beautiful and you knew it. I am not beautiful and you love it.

I’ve never been so alone since last October
When you thought six feet under  was better than being with me
It’s never been so hard trying to stay sober
But what is reality when you’re all I can see?

Darling, we had the world but you chose to get swallowed
And left me up here with the an unbearable curse
I’m followed by the remains of your lost shadow
It never lets me forget how much I can hurt

In the middle of every night, I feel your weight beside me
Drooping down the bed and creaking the wooden floors
But when I turn to look, the room is but empty
And I know your ghost is waiting by the door

Your memory is haunting and I have been restless
The feeling of your presence is still alive
And although I can’t see you, I know they exist
Your ghost will be the last thing I feel tonight

Can you see
Beyond my eyes
And deep into my soul
Where the truth really lies?

Can you hear the voices
Whispering in my mind
Reminding me
That I'm running out of time?

Can you feel
My slow beating heart
Deprived of love
And falling apart?

Or do you just see
The face I put on
Of no emotion
Of no lively song?

I rather you look
Beyond the eyes
Beyond the lies
To the messed up being
I really am
Yet beside me
Is where you still stand.

My name is my submission to male dominance
     I am somebody's daughter,
     somebody's wife.
I willingly call myself so
     It's because I love my father
     I love my husband
And I am honoured to be called
In his name
Usually

But sometimes
When a ray of anger rushes into my heart
By the feminine idea of self-respect
I wonder
     if my father loves me, why is his love trumping of my mother who bore me inside her body for months of restless ease?
     if my husband loves me, why has he never consider calling himself Mr. Mine, where he my husband and I his wife?

But I tuck these thoughts away
They are too balancing of power, too simply different.
I mustn't let the patriarchy hear, or I will dishonour my worth
As a woman.

Today
A child of nature walked out under the bare sky
for the first time since she broke

The Sky,
So joyed to be able to see her beauty,
began to weep a wondrous rain storm

But
The girl thought The Sky was upset
and hid back under car hoods and roofs once again

Its Tears
Flooded the world as The Sky wept harder,
wondering when its kin would return

The girl,
So beautiful that she was comparable to the sky,
would hide away until she would be fixed

Next spring,
She would try to be a part of nature again
but this spring she must heal before she can blossom

I do not long for what once was
I do not dream of what could be
I only think about what could have been
I know these regrets will be the end of me

Everyday
The weight machine
Tells me a higher number

I think it's broken
Because surely
My soul is weakening and thinning out

Into nothingness
And doesn't that have a weight?
Or is this feeling inside me
Merely pretend?

Sweet smiles lined with lip gloss
tell the most articulate lies.
These girls have learned to deceive the weak
using their soft voices as a protective disguise.

They're trained to think it's easier to inflict pain
rather than to live in it themselves.
So they set up walls incapable of being breached
and in this womanmade pit of loneliness, they fell.

I always saw through their false lashes
and into their coffee-black tainted souls.
But it wasn't until I met the all-star actress
that on my heart, my mind lost its hold.

She became my treasure box where I stored
my secrets and stories for her to keep them safe.
Yet her snake-like tongue repeated all I invested
into building a world filled with my own self-hate.

Now, I miss her lip gloss smile
but no doubt her smile had always been a sneer.
These two-faced girls will hypnotize  you into believing
their soft-spoken lies are all you wish to hear.

The skin on my legs is exposed and bare as the cold cuts through my many layers.
How long has it been since I felt warmth?
Since a gentle heart defrosted my sore bones?
Since someone whispered to me that I'll live another night?

I cannot recall, so the answer is simple:
Too long.

The cold has this affect on me.
It makes my mind blurred, my memories and emotions congested.

The frost on my face has made it impossible for me to smile,
So my expression is tinted blue with a hint of lifelessness.

How do I feel?
Happy? Sad? Hopeful? Hopeless?
Or nothing at all?

I think I am numb,
But I don't know it.

I know nothing.
Well, almost nothing.

It is the Weather, I think.
All the Weather's fault that I suffer.
That I'm freezing, lifeless and alone.

When the pressure builds on your shoulders
And you’re on the verge of breaking
Let me be your first call
To stop your voice from shaking

When the nights are achingly short
And the days seem to drag on
Know that I’ll listen to all of your worries
Until the crack of dawn

When you find your life is hostile
And the world is harsh and cold
Remember that you are fragile when alone
But together we can be bold

When these days are long passed
And our memories become foggy and strained
I hope you’ll remember your friend in high school
That cared for you when it rained

When we grow old and tired
And our days are filled with regret
We’ll look back at these high school years
And friends we hope we won’t forget

I’ll be glad I had thanked you then
For shielding me from the eternal storm
And wish that we'll meet in sunlight soon
Where we are not our thorns

When I hurt I feel alive
To feel nothing at all is a desire to die

If I ran
The longest distance
Climbed
The highest mountain
Jumped
The tallest troubles
I still wouldn't be
Trained enough
To dodge your **Big head

every night, before I let my mind rest
     I slip off my clothes
     and indulge my raw, naked self
in a bath of memories.

I let the harsh water
     trickle over every inch of me,
     until it reaches my chest
and fills my heart with frost.

     I try to scrub the guilt
off my skin,
     I try to lather the regret
out of my hair,
     and to ignore the feeling of the memories
hovering over my femininity
    
until I can't take it
                                       anymore.

so I drain the water out of my tub
     and the memories out of my mind
     and i slip on my robes
     and try to stop thinking
for a while, as I sleep.

but tonight*, when I pool in the water
    and it trickles all over me
    my heart is not filled with frost
it is filled with rigged ice.

i am filthy,
     the guilt does not wash away
     the regret still clings to me.

and as I try to breathe
     I want to ignore the memories
     that flood my femininity
     but they make their way up
and into my body
and into my mind.

today, I can't ignore it
          it's all too much to bear
and I can't take it
                               anymore

so I slip into the water
     and it suddenly becomes warm
     and washes away my clouded thoughts

I am flooded with a new feeling
     of pooling red peace
     as I sink under
and try to *stop thinking, as I rest

and hope to never wake up
                                                  and have to think again.

I take my final guilty breath.

Underneath laughing gowns
And clicking white heals
Fall lost hopes and dreams
Things we used to feel

Each red petal; now dead
Used to celebrate a new start
With friends and family and something blue
A fellowship of two hearts

And here I sit at the last row
Watching young flower girls sing
And clatter sounds as hands clap
When a finger bears a wedding ring

But those petals; red and crumpled
Lay suffering as they all applaud
And my memory recalls two more suffering flowers
And my fingers plucking a petal
And whispering
"He loves me not."