Crushed flowers are beautiful,
dried, pressed
not useful but certainly nice to look at
My sister affectionately called me a 'delicate little flower' one of the many times you made me break down, crushed from false accusation
until i eventually dried up
pressed myself until the pain no longer hurt.
I wondered why i had become such a fragile thing
shouldn't heartbreak build you up, a learning experience rather than reducing you to a few petals and a stem.
i feel more like a tree
green and great during the warm summer months
unaware of the freezing winter winds that will blow away all my protective leaves. barren. cold.
i hope someday i will become evergreen
beautiful, tall, luscious and full- pine or cedar or spruce
staying fragrant all year round

but for now i remain a daisy
nothing special
dried, pressed and crushed between these pages, within these words.

There was once a man
Who looked at the moon and asked
"Is there anything I could ask,
that you can answer?"
There was no reply,
as expected.

The next morning, there was a dog.
The man crouched down
in front of the dog and asked
"What are you up to today?"
The dog walked past,
as expected.

In the afternoon, there was a girl.
She was sitting on a bench in the park.
The man sat beside her and asked
"Are you waiting for someone?"
She kept gazing at the sunset,
as expected.

Night falls in a pub in the city.
There's a drunken man, had many bottles.
The man approached him and asked
"Is something the matter?"
The man finally collapsed after too much drinks,
as expected.

Lastly, in a room there are antiques.
One is a mirror in an intricate frame.
The man looked at the mirror and asked
"How do you feel today?"
There was no reflection,
as expected.

Lovely broken bibles,
Tearing at the seams,
Holy words unravel,
Praises hide the screams.

me and God took a hiatus

I found someone to blame.


I miss my man in the sky,
Most nights,
It was nice,
To have something to stand for,
Someone to look to,
An example,

A father.

Me and God took a little break,
For a long time.
When I was 9,
Where was he?
Goodbye house,
Goodbye parents,
Goodbye dreams.

I went to churches that preached hate,
And lost someone I loved,
To wicked, wicked drugs,

where was he?

I tried to find him in my heart,
I feared he'd fled,
I didn't know it was I,
who chased him out,
I didn't have him
Because I didn't want him.

We were on a break.


Then i got dizzy,

Randomly,

I made a lot of trips to the emergency room my 13th and 14th year of living,
Spent most of my time on hospital beds I began to memorize the E.R. nurses faces,
And which shifts they worked.
I became so familiar with pain,
And not being to breathe,
And medication,
After medication,

WHERE WAS HE?

now I am past most bad days,
And no longer need drugs to keep me sane,
But every once in a while I feel my faith flicker.

When I felt him the strongest this year,
I was in the middle of a field at 2am.
I was with my best friend,
And we were lying down,
Looking at the stars,

I stood up and felt so small,
So insignificant,

where was he?

I felt like the world could have swallowed me whole,


I felt that way when I was 9,
But I was on a car trip that would change my entire world,
I felt that way when I was 12,
But I was on a roof.

I hadn't felt this way in years,

It reminded me what it was like to want to die;


But I didn't.

Ah,

*there he is

Save me from my fear of vulnerability.
Save me from my denial.
But mostly
Save me from my manners.
They keep me from honesty,
They fill me with lies
To fill others with comfort.
There is nothing attractive about them.
Please
Save me from myself.
I am my own roadblock
On a road to recovery.

- p. winter

Spreading darkly from within
A cloud filled my breast
And slowly pulling me in
Ground me into the dust, depressed

On the dead earth below me
A dripping black hand
Struggled fiercely up to free
The shadows of the demon band

Others nearby glanced my way
Smiled at me, or cursed
With a venomous red spray
Fed my dark and demon-made thirst

Looking behind them I saw
On great poison wings
Creatures, crimson mouths all raw
From speaking unspeakable things

If we had courage to boast
Allied, we could beat
The hellspawned, bloodthirsty ghosts
That hungrily follow our feet

The other side of the coin
Fearing the unknown
No one dares to join
We each have demons of our own

Imagine
Perfectly normal house
Perfectly normal girl
Perfectly healthy body
Chaotic mind.
Her thoughts
As loud as waves
Clashing on rocks.
Yet a voice
So quiet
Like a breeze
Through palm trees.