Shasta Lee

Shasta Lee Jan 2011

This love;
the innocent coo of a sweet dove.
This moment;
the arrow of a cupid battlefield.
You;
my warrior,
and I;
your forever.

Shasta Lee Jan 2011

**Die Holy, Live Sinfully**

Dear God;
Can you see the flaw in me?
Harnessed in my immortality?
This velvet heart and its scarred reality;
the evidence of my morality.
This damaged skin,
caves my soul within.
Oh, God!
Please save me from my living sin!

Shasta Lee Jan 2011

**White drunk**

Yellow colored words, innocent white smile, disguise the black and red behind.
How dare I do this to me?
I breathe heavily,
weighing the importance of everyday I spend living.
How dare I feel this way?
How dare I live as though I am drunk on sin?
I am everything I never wanted to be.
My white intent is blood drenched,
I slit myself on my purpose.
Now I ask for help,
the only way I know.
I look inside myself,
and reach for my hope.
Now there’s
…nothing.

Shasta Lee Jan 2011

**Judging Dreams**

Smiles and speech are the clouds of heaven and fires of hell;
what mortals see, and judge.
We never see above the flames,
or past the clouds,
yet we think we know.
Mortals’ lacking wisdom is believing before seeing.
I have never dreamt a dream so imaginary as what most humans do in their wake.

Shasta Lee Jan 2011

** "Character?" **

Our confinements, our limitations, are set within “character!”
I sway, I bend, I move with the breeze.
“Character!” cannot define me.
Everything I am can vanish-
Everything I am can change.
But what am I always?
I am beautiful.
That is what defines me-
the sheer beauty of whoever I decide to be-
no matter who is looking.
I have no character;
but that is how to characterize me.

Shasta Lee Jan 2011

**Pregnancy**

Is that a child I hear?
Rumbling in my future, a-near?
Noisy, messy, restless,
tumbling down stacks of toys, and my hopes and dreams.
Is that the birthing poison traveling down my throat?
But stop! The child scraped a knee-
and so the cruelest thoughts of pregnancy slip behind me,
replaced by a maternal love that I bleed.
I bend down to kiss it, make it better;
with dire hopes that I succeed.
To hear the child’s laughter, to see his brilliant eyes light up like
New York city lights,
is enough of a thought to make me drink, willingly.
A mother remembers her child before anything else;
is it a curse, a poison,
or a beautiful part of pregnancy?

Shasta Lee Jan 2011

**Dear Diary**

Dear diary,
Can anyone see this pitiful,
being inside of me?
Broken hearted, yet always singing?
Nothing to smile for, yet always smiling.
Torn apart, and never put back together?
This wound is young,
but it will stay forever.
I’m drifting into nothing-
numb, but breathing
dead, and living.
This emptiness…
is like a glass house.
I’m waiting to crash.
Can anyone see this pitiful,
being inside of me?
Broken hearted, yet always singing?
Nothing to smile for, yet always smiling.
I’m waiting for someone to inspire me.
I’m pushing through this life-
is it breaking?
I hope that I can-
save me.
From this numb,
this stranger to you?
I feel abused.
It’s so illogical-
I always was a little bit irrational.
I don’t deserve to feel this way,
karma owes me a better fate.
But then again, I need to be grateful-
Can anyone see this pitiful,
being inside of me?
Broken hearted, yet always singing?
Nothing to smile for, yet always smiling.
Emotion is chasing-
and I’m hiding.
Why won’t it find me?
Maybe I’m just too delusional-
Maybe I’m just a fool, but-
I can’t help but feel this way.
This numbness is choking me.