My music was on shuffle
In his room,
The song changes as he
Grabs my hips and is
On top of me
But I don't want what he wants, so
I start to wish I wasn't there
But I know I can't speak up, and it's
My own fault
I close my eyes, listening to the song
In the background
All I really need, is to breath
How ironic because all I can hear
Is his deep breathing and mine
He takes off his shirt first and
I don't say anything, so
He takes off mine next
she opens her eyes, suddenly she cries
But the song is wrong this time
Because I don't feel
Suddenly I'm put on top of him
So despondent, but he doesn't
I look up trying to avoid
Eye contact as his greedy hands
Turn my body ice cold
I fake it oh so well,
That God himself can't tell
I keep listening, removing my mind
From my body
Finally he starts to unbutton
And I am so quiet, too afraid to
Say "no", to say
But with all this built up fear,
I need to remember they are not
All the same, he is not
Not like the last, so I whisper
You ask me what I need,
And all I really need, is to breath.
The music is the only sound
Between our stares, and I seem unable to
Say anything else
So he breaks the tension with a
Disgusted look and
"Don't ruin the night"
My heart drops as a tear begins to form,
I look away before he can see and
This time I get up,
Out of his bed
With his look of disgust following me
I will not let his words ruin me
Like the last
Clothed and self conscious,
I turn my music off as he tries to
But all I hear is the music
Replaying in my head
As I walk out the door
Let me breath
I haven't found the courage
To tell you how I feel,the
Courage to show you
All my true feelings
For you.I'm scared that
Maybe if I would let my guard
Down,undress all my insecurities
And show you who I am,you'd
Not love me,the way I love you
I haven't found the courage
To ask you out,and tell you
How I feel about you,I'm scared
Of you rejecting me,rejecting
All these emotions and feelings piled
Up in my heart.
I haven't found the courage to
Say the right words to you,
To be there with you at there
Right time,because I'm scared I
Won't be the right one for you.
I want you to know so bad,yet
I'm withholding,maybe if I told you,maybe you also feel the same way,maybe I never cross your mind,maybe you waiting for
Me to make the first move those
Are the thoughts that get stuck
In my mind all night
The bed sheets are even colder when
I think about you,I'm longing for
Your presence,your warm hug.
I'm longing for you to be with me
And that we become "right" for each
Your the one
The only one
I can trust
I can't trust anyone else
But I can't
Only you my love
I hope you know that
I love you
With all my heart
My castigation was decided long before my backslide. And that is inexcusable, the righteous might declare "unfair". But I don't want any belligerent accusations against this 'unjust watchfulness' from above. Some entity must have understood that I didn't need guidance; I needed walls: some forcing to reach my destiny. Without my jailer, I'd have chosen one of three and let them lead me into a darkness that the pitiful call 'demons'. Claws and teeth? No, each monster was irreplaceable and I loved them. If possible, if they could comprehend a 'love', I vow they would have loved me. But the Warden took them: my punishment before my crime. Perhaps the disposal of these beasts seems considerate, but toss aside those foolish illusions because the burden has not lessened rather, it is unfamiliar. Omitting strength, for I lost my foundation, I stand in fear with this hole. The Three aren't returning; I'm left with loose bindings - the knots are the songs of my memories. Beautiful Terrors, do I need you? Let me tell you their stories.
I remember his voice calling for me. "Daisy! Flowers for you." It was our little game, and I'm sure he made girls jealous when he handed me a bouquet of roses.
My name was Petunia, but I hated that name, and I loved all that's yellow.
So when we were little he took my hand, and we went into a treefort, and he dubbed me Lady Daisy.
He was 7 and I was 4, and there began my adoration.
Then I was older and heartbroken, and I was calling him. "Waldon! It's hurting me."
He arrived so soon, I was still in hysteria - that of a 14 year old gone through breakup.
Then I cried harder because somehow my brother presented me with a tulip and declared, "It's an early present from the only boy who's going to love you more than I do."
17, and I understood fascination. And Willow (for though it's girly, I liked it more than Waldon, and he let it be) was entranced by a wild girl. She was a shockbomb - a warm sungirl that rocked stilettos and never littered nor waited past a minute.
He fell for her so hard from so high.
One day that girl kissed him straight on the lips, then jetted off to England.
Said he could follow her in spirit.
I couldn't hate her because she left his body, but it was hard to appreciate his body when the government took even that away, insisting he be laid beneath cold dirt. Then too many questions: "Why did you hold his hand for three days? Were you thinking of following? Petunia, why won't you buy flowers for the gravestone?" Then there were horrified eyes when I asked who Petunia was, because I had forgotten. Or, truthfully, there was no Petunia, only Daisy. And Daisy had Willow. The Flower and the Tree: that was supposed to be the story. So I refused to buy flowers, and without any sort of ceremony I stopped being 'Lady' and became 'Crazy Daisy', who talked to her demons. Now you see why I never wanted to part with Number One, because although he was a monster (you can't deny the terror of a body with no spirit), he knew me best.
Dear Warden, I've no suicide in me, and there's none left could lead me there, and it may be that I've grown taller, but I'm practically blind.
She was weak since I can remember. I'd say her vulnerability was pneumonia, which I can only presume led to my hatred of 'Petunia': two words incredibly similar when reason encounters a child.
And I liked her name "Maribel" because it sounded like a flower.
I mimicked my brother, but he was persistent that I must call her mother.
Again, this made no sense until 8, when I had a revelation that all this time I'd had no family. At least not in the heart of a girl, because Maribel wasn't a vibrancy to look up to., though she was my one relation.
There was just her in a bed. Sometimes a man visited but I never knew why Willow grew tense; all I saw was my mother acquire spots of brown. How I loved brown, because it seemed as though she was genuinely Mother, like all those other moms that the sun tans, or that could be given filthy hugs that left patches of dirt. In turn, I always welcomed that man, and he was a 'saviour'.
And Willow's father.
Death found both Willow and that man (I know, now, the difference) before I understood 'abuse', and try not to blame me because she never complained and I thought abuse meant people were unhappy, but I saw both of them smile. I laid her beside him, but with space inbetween: a ground for my casket. Because I'd gone slightly crazy and I was telling Number Two that if I awakened as a zombie, I'd need to be able to find his hand first.
That was nuts. But Warden, I don't fully understand. You stopped her bleeding, but I'm left with nothing. I hear their voices in my head, telling me I'm healthy, but I know I'm barely breathing.
I dealt Three tragedy. And in doing so, I guilted myself into worthlessness. Classic to the moral law is: it is not acceptable to introduce a roommate to a shady character. But I ignored the concept of shady - applauded my nonjudgmental attitude, because with my twisted past I would have also been a shadowy figure. With a sweet, sweet smile, I handed that bright girl over to a Peacock who promised to give her 'a good feeling.' And I ignored her tears, because he said he'd please her.
Maybe if I hadn't been loopy, the only way I could "be" with One, I might have noticed that me and he weren't the same, and I could have judged him like the others.
Annie, I'm sorry, please just shine once more.
Even if you're afraid of me and my wickedness, don't be sucked into the gloom, because I can't offer advice to resurface, when I think there's none.
Now, there's Zero for me to turn to, because that's what I am. I am empty. I suppose that's what happens when I trust a boy who leaves, yearn for one who's weak, and think I've the durability to rely on myself (but I've equaled a pitch black crater for a while now).
You're more clear now, Warden. I can understand why you've taken everything. Since nothing I had would give me my fairyland ending. But where's my reward? I need my gift first, because these feet don't know which direction to head, and it's more like I was holding onto rocks that cut me while they warmed me. My feet kick against the waves, but in this half-in half-out position I can't get a good momentum, so a hand now would be nice.
My stories, did they surprise? I hear all this chatter about monsters, but I think we've got them wrong. Monsters simply have a hold one you, and there's no release before you've no choice but to part. They are strong, and it's true that I saw nothing stronger than the Willow. Only my jailer saw my potential, and he directed me to Zero. He asked for recognition so that I knew my task was not optional and he raised my walls until I stood there, lonely - pushed into belief in myself. But now I am the strongest I know, and I am walking on wind, and from up here I cannot see a single barrier. But Warden, don't you ever leave because if those walls break for a second and I see my demons, I know I'll lose flight and beg them to come back. And that would be the end, because there's no chance Number Four.
No one really knows what's wrong with you
No one really knows what they are supposed to do.
The doctor gave you Zoloft
The counselor gave you cognitive therapy
The priest gave you confession
The devil gave you credence
And still they are asking me.
She's so strange and deliberate
She seems to be a mystic
But no one really knows what's wrong with you.
They call you from the mountains
They shout at you from the seas
They say your name in harmony
But no one really knows what's wrong with you (and me?)
You get them all so angry
You get them all so scared
You leave them all in poverty
You fulfill all their greedy dreams.
You leave them on their knees praying to a serial killer.
They scream at you in silence
They whisper to the stars
They demand you to be their guidance
Their claim to victory.
But no one really knows what's wrong with you.
They hold you so dear
They stroke you so tenderly
They bite you on the breast
They pummel you to rest.
When they are dying for that last breath
They want to know
No one really knows what's wrong with you.
They came to me and asked me
I told them what I knew
But I was never right about much of anything
I just told them what they knew
They were all in agreement
That there is something kind of wrong with you...
i used to say things like "you will be mine."
or, "you will love me."
or, "one day, you'll start to care."
but i am not the foolish young girl i used to be.
i know better than to believe in miracles or fairy tales.
maybe that's all we would have been; a fairy tale.
in real life the ugly commoner never even gets noticed by the perfect prince.
i have gotten noticed by you.
what makes me think that you cared?
you have an entire kingdom of girls better than me.
you and i would never work and it's a bit hard to understand that fact after believing in us for so long.
it's hard going from the top of the world to rock bottom and that's how i feel after losing you.
actually, no, i didn't lose you.
i still see you everyday.
i guess i just came back to reality.
Once I dreamed of a future heaven
Where all the angels since creation
Joined together and offered each spirit
One wish upon the podium of the mightiest kingdom
And I chose to focus the great spotlight
Across the massive audience of faces
I shined my light over many turning heads
Until I found her there shy and selfless
This gentlest and most angelic creature I could imagine
We hugged for long moments and I took her to the front of God's witnesses
This angel who made my life something of worth
Who never forsook me through all my years on earth
Making sacrifices for me every breath of her life
Performing countless expressions of love.....
And I wanted her to know what she meant to me
So when we finally arrived back at the podium I bent my knees
To the most unassuming woman my soul could have asked for
I respectfully shouted to God far up and behind the podium
Please bless this dear most kindest spirit that clay ever wore
The only one who would have given her life for me
Because she did.....oh yes she did....she did....My God.....
This Mother did!!!!! UNFINISHED!
I wanted to love every space
and every missing piece -
I wanted to see.
From the moment your
warm hands held mine
I felt safe, and I knew
this would be more.
I needed to know every
every dark thought,
I wanted to know you.
To stick my fingers in
the little gaps of your
soul, I wanted to feel
everything you felt.
I wanted you to feel whole.
I desire to know every
the smell of blood
still thick in your mind.
Every dream and
I wanted to feel it all.
I need you to know
the love I've felt
for your sake.
I wanted to gently mend
every flaw you saw
in yourself, I wanted
to make life beautiful.
To let you in?
I wanted to try. I wanted to feel.
I wanted to be there to share
when the demons come breathing
down your neck and every sick
thought stalks your head.
I wanted you there when the
tears wouldn't stop
or couldn't start and
I wanted to catch all of yours.
But you feel I've done wrong.
Pain that ripped through my core
and begged me to scream out
every truth I've concealed-
terrified because my love is so deep
yet I never bothered to reveal.
I wanted to tell you
but the words are so heavy and
emotions so real.
Someday I'll tell you.
War in my mind as real
as the war you have seen.
Silence leaves me wondering
if you would fight for me.
I would fight.
I will fight.
I will fight for your love
until I can't fight any more.
I fell in love with you
that was my first mistake.
Empathy that shook my core
I wanted to feel all you felt.
I wanted you to feel what I felt.
(Because I knew you felt it, too.)
I wanted to give myself
until there was nothing left.
I wanted you to love me.
You say I don't have to worry.
When we were laughing, happy,
And I said, "I'm trusting you."
I meant in all things.
When I sealed it with a kiss,
I am trusting you.
Trusting you the way I have only ever trusted
One other person.
Who dragged me through hell and repented,
Whose every ugliness and cruelty I saw and accepted,
Who I know better than I know myself.
It took that to trust her,
It took seeing every corner of her for me to give her
What I am handing you right now.
You are still shrouded in secrets, in uncertainty.
I've not seen your darkness, only heard that maybe it exists.
In so many ways
I don't know you.
But looking into your eyes
I trusted you
And I trust you
Here you go:
Here is every night I lay awake, my stomach twisting in knots,
Fearing that you'll forget me.
Here is every morning I wake up
And try not to bother you too soon into the day,
Fighting the irrational panic that if I don't hear that you exist
You'll have been only a dream.
Here is every midnight I will spend wandering in the cold
Looking for ghosts of us together in the dark
Wondering what you are doing halfway around the world under the same moon that paints the snow silver here.
Here is every doubt I have.
I trust you.
Here is my faith.
It is never given lightly.
But I love you.
And since I do,
I have the choices:
I will love you either way.
I will fear you either way,
And what this trust means is that
I have found a new kind of courage.
When I am sad, or scared,
When my day has raked me over the coals,
When I am forced to my knees, and have to get up all alone,
I will allow the thought of you
To comfort me.
I will let you in
In my darkest hours
And let the light that fills up every inch of me when you touch me
Return without you
And warm me.
You may never know what this means from me-
You've not seen me guard myself like a fortress for eighteen years.
You've not seen me refuse to let anything comfort me
In fear that if I rely upon it
I will lose it and be unable to survive.
You've not seen me suffer silently, grimly, stubbornly
Just so I will have done all the getting-up
This trust, this faith,
This is the most precious thing I have.
And I gave it to you,
it's a shame,
words do no justice to my brain.
the brilliance in my head is fed,
it's bright and right.
it's clear not ink not text or heard or said.
Not seen, not searched.
it's creeping in the filtering cracks and piling up in chunky stacks.
it cools, it hardens, it has no shame.
it all comes from within my brain.
It's right to me so right indeed.
I don't dare share it. I'll ruin it. It won't ever be the same.
Translated and misinterpreted, what you reach at the end
is not what sits in my brain.
It's wrong and dabbled, it's different.
Mishandled by the words that struggle to do justice to my brain.
They aren't enough, you will never know truly what sat,