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Dec 2022 · 950
Your season
Chelle Dec 2022
This is for the boy.

The boy whom I watch drag his heart around, getting bruised and battered from the rocks thrown at him.

I see you. I see your despair and I see your hunger.
I am your season. The temporary breeze to help end the insufferable inferno of torment.

Let me be that cool water dripping down your chin as you numb the pain.
Bury yourself deep inside my kindness.
Allow my nurturing hands to touch your scars and rather than run away, allow me to run my fingers on them as I trace each imperfection into hope.
Let my heartbeat steady yours.
Let me be feed you confidence and love.

Your heart is still dragging behind, you must be so tired, so let me use mine for you to rest your head.
Then I hear that sigh of release, thinking I am helping you. I am healing you.

The light of the moon leaves my skin that’s soaked with your kiss. As the moon leaves, so do you.

You leave my bed and allow your rested feet to lead you back to her.
To the one who carved out your heart in the first place.

That’s when I remembered, a snake’s venom injects itself without approval. The flower’s nectar is only accessible if you truly want it. One is poison, one is nurturing. I am the flower, she is the snake.
Mar 2021 · 510
Burning house
Chelle Mar 2021
You look like a dream
You sound like my favorite song
You smile like the sunshine and it reaches every crevice between the darkness I carried for years.
Your giggle is my own personal antitoxin to this ridiculously chaotic world.

You were like a storm cloud on the hottest days of summer
Yet, when the rain comes down and kisses your skin, it's hot and unforgiving
Like the rain, you tricked me and I was deceived.

You were the sweet humming in my ear on a late-night walk
The gospel of your energy was contagious

You made a silhouette of our future
Molded my mind to fit every crevice of your needs
It wasn't enough, it never would have been enough for you.

You took my reservations and replaced them with reassurance. You were confident in the way you took down my walls. Every brick you removed was replaced with conviction on how strong you felt for me.

You built a safe house around me, I thought I was protected. You filled the house with ideas of the future. Words of commitment.
I was open, i was free now living in that house with you.

Then, with no warning you burned it to the ground.
I realized as you were walking away from it, watching me burn,  that you have done this before.
Dec 2018 · 265
Emotional Sadist
Chelle Dec 2018
Empty carcass of full defeat
From lives of loveless solitude lost at sea
For if the sea were my tears, I would take you away
On a sailboat made of my heartstrings to play

You graffiti my person with sweet venom you speak
I try and walk away, but like in a circle…you  just keep coming.
For when the hurricane of  pain hits, its simply a breeze
Because love mends those more than harsh things.

The things that ache in the 3am hour.
The things that make you sit on the floor in the shower.
These splinters that are fragmented into your soul,
Are nothing more of a reflection of our relationships toll.

Yet, my heart anchored in the tears you’ve cried over me
I sleep with the wolves howl of your heartbeat
Because the sorrow of loss and emptiness without you
Is far more than a few splinters stuck in our shoe.
Toxic or not, it will a,ways be you that I choose
Oct 2018 · 710
Field of pleasure
Chelle Oct 2018
Kissed by dawn as I recollect the dreams of you.
I became unselfish in your light
Your essence flowed like a river down my  cold body
It craved your warmth.
Hatching into a new mindset with you as my head
You awoken the woman and lay her gently in a field.
Your mouth filled my voids with sweet nothings and flowering promises.
Our pleasure is married together in unison
And my heartbeat takes relief as it finds yours.
But as the Queen of the silver night faded, so did you.
My scorched arms turn to ice once more.

Until tonight, when you find me again.
In my dreams is where you find me. I will wait for you there, always.
Mar 2018 · 600
Parchment
Chelle Mar 2018
Hello boy.
You picked up my book.


Open me up and flex out the spine
Dust off my pages, it’s been quite some time.


Your hands feel so good on the skin of my cover.
Take me home boy, and read me forever.


Read about the time when I cursed at the moon.
Or the time I was so lost, and dreamt to find you.


Skip the dark pages that haunt my parchment. Move back to chapters of happier moments.


Don’t put me back on that shelf boy, don’t be done with this book of mine. I love the way you read me, you see the beauty between the lines.

Add your own ink onto my paper, your story would look so good mixed in with mine. We could be a bestseller, something our children would read over time.

Keep my book boy, don’t let me go.
Mar 2018 · 423
Thorns to my Rose
Chelle Mar 2018
You say I’m a rose,
As beautiful as can be.
Yet, you say your love is like thorns, painful and undeserving.

Don’t you know sweet boy, how beautiful they truly are.
They protect the rose against threats of all kind.

Without the strong thorns you provide me, my rose would be plucked so easily. So, stay on my stem and shelter me from the harsh reality of living in a garden.
Mar 2018 · 364
Puppet
Chelle Mar 2018
Poor, sweet boy.
Tell me why you’re sad

He replied:
Blind, naive girl.

You just don’t get it
The pain i carry is heavy, it’s hard to admit it
Baby, it’s past the point of pills and talking things out.
The darkness that ate my soul is causing a drought

For no tears are shed, in fact I’m incapable of the act.
My emotions are vacant, it’s the ultimate hack.
The shackles of my depression are tight and unforgiving.
So much so that I give up on living.

I am dead inside, but my heart is still beating.
Every day feels the same and I’m just tired of repeating.

Your love is strong, but not strong enough.
It’s like puppet strings that help hold me up.

It’s better in the long run if you cut my puppet down. It’s better for you to let me go while I continue to drown.
Feb 2018 · 416
Beautiful Soul
Chelle Feb 2018
She was drawn to him.

Like a predetermined destiny she had no control over

He was her Pandora’s box. She opened him up gently, carefully unwrapping his delicate layers then sat back to gleam at his beauty

He hid from her, thinking his person was broken and bent out of repair. As if he was not worthy of love, not worthy of connection.

She only saw perfection. The seventh wonder was held in his eyes and a abandon world of enchantment in his soul.

How could he not see it? How could he hate himself, his perfection that much?

He would spend his whole life figuring out why she stayed beside him, and she would spend her whole life trying to make him see it.

— The End —