Razors pain you
Rivers are damp,
Acid stains you
Drugs make you cramp
Guns aren't lawful
and nooses give
gas smells awful
...you might as well live

I don't quite remember where
I heard this little rhyme before
but it has kept me from doing a lot of things

all the videos on YouTube with there promises
"IT GETS BETTER"
the words circulate the world
through the copper chords
that connects us all

the shrinks and the doctors
and the counsellors and priests
with all there powerful words
...words that empower you for a while but
sadly fades to the back of your mind as
tears fill your eyes

and someday, with the instrument of death
at your fingertips..
you realise that all these words and revalations are all just empty lies
empty little lies
empty little lies
empty little lies
empty little lies
empty little lies
empty little lies
empty little lies

one for each day of the week
one for the strong
and one for the weak
one for the man with riches and fame
one for the woman in filth doth have lain
one for a smile that should not exist
and lastly one...
for those who insist
that nothing matters
and nothing will change
tomorrow brings tears
yesterday created fears
this problem has no solution
my soul is lost amidst confusion
I don't believe the lies no more
but I won't answer the truth, knocking at my door
I choose to end not my life
but the potential I have
the beauty
the radiance
the hope I might bring to the hopeless
the health to the sickness
the laughter to the tearful
the protection to the fearful

I choose not to end my life
because I believe that my path is set
not for the benefit of myself...

we have no happiness on our path
we must create it...
find it in giving that which we do NOT have
to the ones we do not love

this is our curse...
and don't say it's not fair
because life is not fair !!
because Angels and Saints
...which we seem to be the chosen of...
rarely gain fame while living
or being happy,
or loved

no... we are the angels
we will only be recognised as soon as we lay our heads down
and all the bricks we have laid in this world
start to radiate with our legacy!!

Be strong, for sprouting feathers is a painful process
Be heard, for the voice of justice has been silenced to long
and be proud...

...simply...

because you are

Dear *,

Please forgive me, I'm not paying attention.
Things on my mind, that I'm refusing to let in,
have taken over and I'm feeling rejected.
******* heart and my mind is infected
with twisted words and they're starting to set in.
My brain is soaked and I'm acting decrepit;
I'm freaking out and I forget how to help it.
Please don't mind my belligerent melt down,
I don't mean it but I mean it for right now.
My thoughts break off and I'm screaming about how
I went crazy and why I'm staying there for now.
Stomp on me and try to toss me around;
my ragdoll syndrome is taking it's last bow.
Forget this, but I really despise you.
You twist my words and you ******* unglued.
Throw out my heart and it's shattered; well that's cool.
I'll break your back with all my burdens you'll go through.
It's no big, but I'm feeling relentless.
I try to sleep but my body is restless.
I toss and turn but my thinking is endless
just imagining the ways I insult you, my princess.
Say you're a man but it makes no difference;
I try to tease (and I'm a good temptress),
you pass it up like it's of no interest.
Make up your mind; I'm starting to feel stressed.
Don't even tell me you aren't paying attention.
Things on my mind, that you're refusing to let in,
have taken over and you're feeling objective,
empty mind and your heart is rejected.
Believe my words and they're starting to set in.
My brain is soaked and my writing is decrepit...
I'm freaking out and I'm not gonna help it.
Remember this, I'm a force to be messed with.
I'll twist your words and I'll call it semantics.
No need to yell, your words never sink in.
You'll sleep better if you let me just win this.
I lost my point but I'll place the blame on you.
I digress, not like it's such big news.
Why stay here? I've been feeling the abuse
of abandonment and all of its issues.
I try to block, but blocking is misuse,
I try to stop, I can't help it...
I miss you.
Forget this letter, I know it won't get through.
Just keep on leaving. I'll get over it so soon.

I had chewed up lips and a consciousness that slipped between your fingers and my thin laced skin. I was fifteen, in love with you and pointy objects and the desire to one day feel alive.

Nights were our favorites. You held me high on your shoulders while I spread my arms and screamed. Your fingers pricked my thighs and I could feel your molecules forming with my molecules and when I saw my breath coming in little puffs of cotton ***** in the air all I could think of, Is this what life is?

Sometimes you would run with me on your shoulders and I had to latch on for dear life. My nails in your gold speckled hair, “Don’t you dare close your eyes,” you’d say and I’d cry from the wind, from the adrenaline, from the thought of you ever letting go. Little crystal streams ending nowhere.

But eventually, you did, you dropped me hard and fast and I fell upon the cold frosted grass. No warning, no squeeze of assurance. The wind knocked out of me, tears freshly stained upon acne scarred cheeks. I tried to lift my head to see you, but you were gone. All I had was the tethered swing set, the stars. And this is what life is, I thought. It’s flying until you can’t. Falling until you cannot breathe and then it’s over.
With a thud.

I know I've been your worst nightmare,
i know you had given up on me.
I know I've made you angry,
I know I've even made you cry.
I am sorry for all those times you've thought of yourself as a bad parent,
coz i know how lucky I am to have you and how precious you are to us.
Your soul is sweet and full of kindness that no matter how hard and hurtful I've been to you,
you've always forgiven me.
No matter how harsh life is for you ,
you've walked through it with a smile.
Many a times I've heard you say "I am perfectly fine",
but still I've seen you go to your room,sit on the bed and cry.
I know many of my words have hurt you really bad and some have even left a scar
but still you've always come and hugged me and said 'i love you my dear child".....

Yes, I use violent imagery
Correction: I love using violent imagery
Does that annoy you?
Somehow set you off?

Is it because you wish
That I was a bit more 'normal'
A bit less pronounced, obvious
About who I am?

Are you annoyed because
You wish I'd feel embarrased
Of this part of myself?

Does it **** you off
To see me proudly display
My inner self-
all of it-
Without any of your foolish
Censoring?

Is it perhaps because
I am attempting to accept myself
Whatever I might be, its entirety?

Does it anger you
Because you
You bowed your head
And conformed when
Someone else came
And censored you?

But I
I refuse to do the same
For this is me
And I am not going to
Pick apart and,
Cut out
The bits of me you don't like
The shards
That form the complete picture

I refuse to allow
You to touch them
For this is ME
ME
Not you
Not your domain
**NOT under your control

Yes,
Yes it sounds a hell load more sexier
To say I nearly jumped off a terrace
Or
I used to slit my wrists

Than tell you that
yesterday
The lights
Went green
And I
I don't know what come over me
But I walked to the middle of
One of the busiest crossings
And attempted
To peer into my future
In the headlights
Of a bus

I find it easier
To tell people
That I am a head-case
And they should stay away
Rather than tell them
That I sat up the whole night
Crying
On my birthday
Because I felt like a Giant Mistake

I find it easier
To tell people these lies
I still call myself honest
Wonder if that makes me a liar

I find it easier to describe
The pretty way the lights danced inside her eyes
When I brought her something entirely unexpected
But I won't talk about the dark, gaping hole
In my heart,
When I realised that I wasn't worth a **** to her

I don't talk about things that affect me
If my face goes pallid
And someone asks me why
I'll tell them it's cause I didn't sleep
What I won't tell them
Is that half the night was spent
Wondering how I came to be
And the other, thinking about how repulsed I am by myself

I won't talk about the way
I flinch
Whenever someone touches me
I won't mention the fact that I was molested
By my best friend
But I'll sound close to tears as I describe
My sorry friend's case who didn't know what to do about it

There are some things
Which aren't any of your ******* business
But it's **** difficult
To keep everything to yourself
When you've got anonymity protecting you
And no shoulder
To cry upon

As a college freshman
I find myself time traveling.
I close my eyes and
I appear
in the classroom where a group
of over-confident, lazy, too smart
for their own **** good
students stood on the precipice
between leaving and staying
regretting and dreaming.
Leaving would give us freedom
Leaving would fill the creases of
our palms with sweat
We kept our palms outstretched and empty
not daring to grasp anymore of home
because the weight would only
anchor us to the vines
we spent 13 years unraveling from
our ankles.

Maybe we should not have been
so eager to leave, maybe this is a mistake.

The girl with the mermaid hair
The boy with books stacked in
a corner of his desk
They both, we all, sat dreaming
about the same thing while
Ophelia drowned herself in the river
Shores of the ocean and city skylines
Classrooms that did not feel like cages
and eyes that did not reflect a memory
every time you glanced into them
In a high school English class,
a group of over-confident, lazy, too smart
for their own **** good students,
stood terrified and mystified
stood united in there persistence to become
something more than test scores and
the ability to memorize facts.

Fact:
Some mornings I walk to class
and I can feel the girl with the mermaid hair in Los Angeles
walking beside me and when I sit down
I can see books stacked on a corner of a desk somewhere in Berkeley.
I wonder if they wake in their bed and hear airplane engines roaring
somewhere above a valley.
The engines roar with warning.
sometimes it sounds like hope.
Baby, something is coming, we promise

We all began at the start,
dreaming as one and fearing as one
Today, she is five spaces forward
He is ten spaces forward
The others are halfway down the **** board
and I find myself back at the start
every few weeks.
Four spaces forward then three spaces back--
I don't know where I am going.
But I know where I have been.

I open my eyes.
A college freshman.
I hear the engines roar above me.
*Something is coming.

"I'll be stopping by tomorrow with something"

I ask if it will explode when she leaves.

"No not  a bomb, just a box"

I wait and worry regardless,

"I'll be there in ten"

I brace myself as the blue Toyota pulls up.

"I don't think we should talk for a while"

I struggle to respond as her tears begin.

I am helpless to stop them.




She walks off and the car drives away.

I open the box and it explodes,

In it is every gift and every card I'd given her.

"How can you be hurt? You broke up with me."

Maybe she was right,

Maybe I didn't know the pain she felt before



But now? Now I know.

"I couldn't bear to see these around my room"

How the hell am I to live with them?

A necklace I had crafted,

Her favorite candy,

All gifts to her, now punishment to me.



But the bomb,

The true explosion,

Hits me with a blast I dare atoms to match.

An insignificant little plush toy.

A beautiful little Orca,

Soft as her caress once was,

Silky as her hair in my fingers,

Murderously painful like a knife in the gut.

The little card dangled innocently,

"Happy Anniversary Honey! XOXO"

It would have been today.