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 Aug 2020 Alexa Pishtey
Simoné
It took me seven years
to realise
the words in my mind
were too deep for
my mouth to dig up
I thought it was easier
to open my skin
and let the truth
pour down my arms

It took me seven years
to realise
nobody should be allowed
to touch parts
of your home
or hold pieces  
of your heart
that you don't yet understand

It took me seven years
to realise
I will wear these scars
forever
I'll carry them
through every smile
every kiss
every concerned gaze
I'll carry them
to my grave

It took me seven years
to realise
the pain carved
into the walls
of my castle
etchings of
attempting to disappear
are not a story of weakness
but a tale of
how I survived
I’m a Heartless Romantic,
I used to be a Hopeless Romantic,
but my heart has been ripped out so many times I forgot to put it back in. I mean what’s the point when each time you Love it feels like you’re having an endless sugar rush. You’re high for so long that the crash throttles you so far down that you’re in an endless abyss. And once you stabilize you realize how deep into the abyss you went. As high as you went up is as low as you go down. You stay there for a while, trying to figure out what to do. You forget what light looks like and you walk further into the darkness. Dumbfounded by not knowing which way is up and where you’ll find light, you are lost. You are lost and in pain, a perpetual pain that never healed, because you didn’t let it. You realize this and you put your heart back in, and you heal yourself. Through this healing you find your ground, and you feel more comfortable. You finally found some light even though you’re still stuck in darkness, but you slowly get out of it.
You recovered!
just to do it all again...
But I’ll forever be a Heartless Romantic,
No a Hopeless Romantic.
Maybe just A Romantic
four jobs in two months

and it wasn't even his
fault. He just
left because they didn't pay him

"Nobody works for
free," he said as he closed the
fridge, the
last can of beer in his hand,
not too cold

"Hey, leave some for me," his
girlfriend said

He threw himself on the couch,
careful to avoid
the spot where
springs poked their rusty
silver heads out

He opened the beer. "I keep
tellin' you I should
just open
my own business."

"Um-hm."

"No really, you know what this
town has in abundance?" He
took a sip

"Poverty?" she said, already stretching
her hand for the can

He handed her the can. "Yeah, poverty.
And poverty means homeless men.
Men nobody gives a **** about. Hell,
everyone wants them to
vanish. I was thinking,
maybe I can cash in on that. I could hunt
them down at night and
use their meat in a fast-food restaurant. It can
pass as pork. Everything passes in
this town.
What do you think?"

She took another sip. Handed
the can back to him. "Yeah. I know
where you can
begin, by the way. Tonight I'll show
you the alley my dad
and uncle sleep in."

He raised the can. "Cheers."
I met a friend today
His name was Death
He smiled big with pure white teeth
And minty fresh breath
I asked him what he did for a living
Staring blankly at me, batting his eyelashes
He did the opposite of giving
What did that mean?
But the closer I got to Death
The better I understood his scheme
In his sharp black suit he won me over
I felt an irresistible draw
Like to a diamond in the rough, or a four leaf clover
He convinced me of the beauty in the night
That when the moon was hidden from view
There was nothing better than the lack of light
He led me from my lust for life
Sang to me in my sleep
Whispered sweet nothings and handed me the knife
I tried to pull away from my newly found friend
But his choke hold was so tight
On him I started to depend
The world could see me deteriorate into nothing
He held me harder and closer
With shortness of breath I stood huffing and puffing
Enclosed in the lackluster of our friendship I became numb
The emotions drifted with my vitality
I tried to retrieve them but could only attain 1/5th of my former sum
The more time you spend with a person
The more you become like them
I suppose I couldn't see the situation worsen
Collar around my neck he leashed me like a dog
I cared so deeply for him
My haze filled mind ignored the dense fog
I came to terms with my life long trap
Death circled like a satellite around my position
No matter where I went he found my place on the map
Eventually I succame to this fate
Despite his control
Death, I could not hate
I loved him too dearly to notice the signs
I couldn't think clearly
His presence was odious and it wasn't benign
 Aug 2020 Alexa Pishtey
Mateah
What if every little thought
That lives inside your head
Instead of hiding away in there
Was spoken out, was said?

Would you be embarrassed?
Would you hate your mouth?
Would you rather be mute
Than let the truth come out?

What if every little thing
That people thought of you
Instead of being tucked away
Was heard, was listened to?

Would you be ashamed?
Would you cover your ears?
Would you rather be deaf
Than let the truth come near?

And what if every image
That passes through your thoughts
Was freed from its prison
To roam until it rots?

Would you be disgusted?
Would you look away?
Would you rather be blind
Than see your thoughts at play?
you can’t unlock the door
when there’s a key
inside the lock
from the other side

right,
all you can do now is
to plead with your kid to
let you in

it’s 12:47 AM
and kid’s got school in the morning
He’s not asleep
because there was no one to tell him
to go to sleep
There was no one home all day
and this late into the night
and he’s ******
and very hungry, tired and
full of rage

Where have you been all this
time, mom?

Indeed, where have you been?

Better leave the answer
for tomorrow
when the spirits will sizzle
a bit less

Until then
take off your high heels
and the glitter from your face
and the ***** from your hair
and lie down on the
doormat and
maybe pray yourself to sleep

It’ll get better. One day
you know it will
He made his heart flame resistant, so no fire could march in and set it ablaze. It seemed like the perfect strategy to keep the unwanted out.

No Love, no joy, just sadness and tiredness.
But she. She was different. She walked into his life unannounced. She walked straight into his heart. She did something no one had ever done or attempted, she lit up his heart.
One day closed off, the next set ablaze by her.

He was confident he could make her happy, he was confident that would make him happy too.

She had problems from the others,
ones that she carried on her back every single day.
Loneliness, anxiety, and distrust were only a few animals that she carried each day.
He wanted to help her, he wanted to keep her happy.
He slowly took on a little of each, to help her carry that heavy load.
Soon he took those problems as his own, she unwilling, and unknowingly was destroying him.
He needed an out, he couldn't stay. He decided to leave and breathe for himself.

He lied to himself constantly looking in the mirror and seeing his fake reflection.
The reflection was perfectly fine, so he was too.
But in truth he was hurt, tired, and lonely.
New problems that arose for him were solitude, lonesome, and silence.

He realized he needed her back.
He loses his freedom when he returns to her, he can no longer fly.
But instead he gains a grasp over his problems, and knowledge of his time apart.
But did the girl who burnt his heart and set it ablaze, make him happy or content?

Did she really heal him?
 Jul 2020 Alexa Pishtey
Iremori
There you go again
Sailing against the stream
Of endless mistakes
And deafening screams

You sail your version
Of the river of Styx
Where words, reason
And discarded bodies mix

Your broken armor
And rusted swords
Your broken dreams
And unspoken words

Your heart became alloy
And your skin became steel
Your mind so twisted
Because of those that you killed

The versions of you
That you need to ****
The weakest ones
So you start to heal

You sail them again
For you have more to throw
Into oblivion
So no one else knows
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