"Even your own body hates you,
enough to betray your mind."

The coldest thing
I could have heard
on that day
was what you said.

It was a bad day,
A hot day
full of my burning fear
and your scorching desire.

But what you said was so cold
So cruel
So utterly and completely terrifying
and absolutely humiliating.

"Even your own body hates you,
enough to betray your mind."

I don't want to write about
Love and the way you taste,
The gentle way your hands feel
when tangled in the curls of my hair.

I don't want to write about
The rain and the way it smells,
The calming pitter patter
beating against the window.

I don't want to write about
The monsters I know,
The way they haunt me
with their inescapable whispers.

I don't want to write about it.
I can't write about it.

So we beat on, boats against the current,
     borne back ceaselessly into the past.
I hope she is a fool, a beautiful little fool.
Absolutely real, pages and everything.
The loneliest moment in someone's life is when
       they are watching their world fall apart
       and all they can do it stare blankly.
And I sat there brooding in the old and unknown world.
You can't repeat the past.
You can't repeat the past? Of course you can.
They're a rotten crowd, I stated,
         You're worth more than the whole **** lot of them.
When you feel like criticizing, remember not everyone
          has had the advantages you've had.
I thought of Gatsby's wonder.
So we beat on, boats against the current,
          borne back ceaselessly into the past.

I could tell by the way
that she ran her hands
across her own skin
that she hated herself.

The way she stared
sadly into the empty space
That girl would never
love herself enough.

But she never gave herself
time to learn how to love.
Dead by her eighteenth birthday,
no one ever claimed her.

Whether it was the drugs
and alcohol and sickness
or her own hatred that killed her,
I will never know.

You made me promise
that I wouldn't fall apart
when you were gone.
You made me promise
to eat when I needed to,
to draw like I always did,
and not to cry too much.

But the spiderweb cracks
only lead to shattering
far worse than a simple break.
I guess I broke my promise
because I can't breathe
without your scent in my lungs.

I know I promised to stay whole,
but this is one promise
that I cannot keep.

You keep talking,
but all you ever say
means *nothing.

Lucifer, the one that shines,
the morning star,
God's favorite,
cast from heaven for his sins.
And by that sin fell the angels.

but do you really believe that the devil is a monster?
That he, who was an angel, is grotesque?
No, he is beautiful and tempting,
an angel dwelling on earth,
and, god, he knows how to play a person.

Lucifer just wanted to be more like God,
is that so wrong for him to desire?
Thrown from paradise for
wanting to be like his father.
How sickening.

Someone protected me once...
It was a nice feeling.
Not lust, not fear, not hatred,
There was anger,
But it wasn't directed at me.
He looked at me with care,
Like I was a real person, and not a shell.
I felt like I mattered for once.
To have someone step in front of you,
To gaze up at their back as they defend you.
I could have sworn he had wings,
Like a guardian angel.

I had a nightmare
where I had the wings
of which I'd always dreamed,
But they claimed it broke laws
so they tore my freedom
from my back
and I swear that
I could feel
The tendons stretch and snap
And the delicate bones shatter.
And it was agony
as they ripped my limbs
and stole my freedom.