loitering between
         earth
                       and air,

A cord of
                in-between
moments.

As we regret or
                breath relief,
of life's final moments..

Sometimes,

I think of taking my hands
And ripping - splitting - cracking,
My ribcage in two.
                                                            ­            
The breastbone splintering apart,
My torso opening like a rotten tree.
The inside hollowed,
Like a lake that has been emptied
 
I've convinced myself that
Fragrant flowers
Would grow there.

That they would grow feverishly
In the gnawing gap
I had created.

And that time would preserve
What I had done.

You lash out at me
Hoping to make me weaker
Hurt by the blade of your words
As tears fill my eyes
The first crack starts

"I'm fine I promise"

Knowing these lies
That they keep you away from me

I am stone

I lie to myself to block you out
Another fight, fills the air like fog
Ah yes, another tear to a company my eye
I hold back my anger
This volcano building inside of me

I am stone

The anger keeps building inside me
But I suppress it, to hold it lock and key
More fights break out
More deadlier than the last
Each time the cracks becoming deeper

I am stone

Now I've blocked you out
No longer respond to what you say
You yelling I'm like talking to a stone
Hoping to get through, but it's not working

Because I am stone

A porcelain doll of such perfection
  how they love your skin so fair
  and the depths of your dark eyes
  and your long and flowing hair
What an adored, beautiful angel
  truly the perfect porcelain doll
  but on the inside you are hollow
  there is not beauty there at all
A porcelain doll of imperfection
  with beauty that lies skin deep
  there adoration of you is a
  misconception
  a tragedy for which I weep
For I know that you are no angel
  that you have fallen far from grace
  you are just another devil in disguise
  with a perfect porcelain face
And when that porcelain shatters
  they still refuse to see
  all the cracks in your character
  that are very plain to me
A perfect, porcelain goddess
  an ever radiant porcelain queen
  how they worship the mirage of you
  blind to the truth that I have seen