You are a bicycle,
your rims are rusted;
Rusted to the overblown rubber tire.

Your chain is broken.
We've tried to splice it so many times,
but I'm running out of links and I'm broke.

You broke me, you ran over my foot.
No apologies. Only the reminders you leave like leaches.
"Well, I told you. I'm a bike."

Well, I told you not to hurt me.
Then you deliberately sought out to run over my foot.
Then ask me "Will you pump my tires, will you oil my chain."

I do these things for you, without being asked or appreciated.
Do them because you're my bicycle, and I appreciate you.

For getting me places, and knocking me down
to give me bruises, bumps, and scars
Scars that remind me, I am not a bicycle.

I am the flesh and blood of the world.
I am not a hollow iron cast;
My innards are in motion with my mind and heart.

I gotta stop pumping the tires on this bike, and toss it.
This bicycle gave me tetanus from it's peddles trying to run away.

Stop cutting up my ******* feet, bike.

I don't think I have quite matured to my fullest,
but I am most definitely matured above cruelty.

You may not mistreat me, lie, cheat, or steal.
You may not crumble my walls that I must rebuild.
Most importantly, you must beware of me.

Beware of my tongue, for now it is sharp.
For now I am bitter, rather than enraged.
I have buried my faith so deep into you,
With nothing left to show for it.

Nothing but the scars on my psyche.
The scars that will blossom into buds,
Beautiful yellow buds that bloom in time.

In time for me to learn my worth, and value.
In order for me to regain the strength I once carried.
It is within, it has not escaped.

It will be freed in time.

I carry burdens like anchors tied to my ankles. They’re pulling me down, and taking me under. I couldn’t forgive myself for the things I’ve done, not even if I tried. Oh how I’ve tried. They weigh me down, and take me out. There’s nothing I can do to be set free, there’s no way for me to feel the way I did once before. They’ll stick with me throughout it all, They’ll stay with me until I fall. The heavy conscience of my regrets, the hardened heart of my own chest. I feel ashamed, I feel no claim. I’ve lied, and I’ve lied. Only to cover my own mistakes, only to dig myself in deeper, only to deal myself no relief. Burdens of anchors, and a conscience of heat, I deal myself no relief. I carry burdens like I carry anchors.

I spend my time awaiting a relief for further acknowledgment, eager to learn and carry on. Excited to see the change beneath my feet, I await patiently as time goes on, and I stand still. I want to move on, I want to grow, I want to get past the rut I had made so long ago. I wait, wait, and wait. It comes. I have received my notice of relief, I have been approved to carry on. I cry for my time is here, I am able to leave this all behind. I am accepted, appreciated, and approved. I will soon be with the moon, High and tight leading the tide to carry on.

I've gotten a couple of busted lips,
bruised hips,
migraines, headaches...
Insults,
sarcastic compliments,
and maybe even a single armed hug every other Wednesday.

But no I love you,
I respect you, or I want you.

No initiation to put forth love and express affection.

"Stubborn as a bull", I say to you as I climb your trunk and grab onto your horns.
Can't get away from your demons, can't hear my angels cries.

Throw me into the wall, call me wrong for feeling it.
Reject my wishes, and shame me for wanting something more.

But I weigh it all out and I'm just 7 lbs too few, and I need more.

Because I got too comfortable in your violent mind.

I have not shed a tear since we last spoke, I have not tried to speak to you.
I have not worried about what you're doing,
and when my mind wonders to you I remember what you said.

I remember that I am better than that, than being treated any less than a Queen when I treated you like a King.
No excuses, no exceptions.
You're not loving, and we're not making any of it.

You're exempt, and *I'm moving on.

You put your life on hold to examine the past, recalculating the out come and what came out. Who knew we’d be sad again, exempting everyone from the relationships of others. Swallowing acid, eating away your insides. Lying to your heart through the skipping beats, and *** stained sheets. You’re crying in the bathroom, reading a graphic novel in a hot bubble bath. Trying to relax, and forget about the past. Failing to tell yourself the truth about your heart-shattering memory and crushed up crush on whom you left behind. Can’t face the truth, so you’re chewing your teeth and swallowing in the shards. Your gums bleeding trying to spit out what’s in front of you but you draw a blank and the targets leaving sight. What are you going to do, you’re going to lie some more and hide it deeper down. You are, you’re going to taint with the tainted and dance with your demons. But they’re leading, and you don’t know how to tango. Getting dragged down and busting your *** ******* the ground, you plummet from Earth and fall to the hell you created yourself. You think back again, to what it could have been. If you’d kept your mouth shut, and just let it in. You cry.

*******, ******, molly, lucy, shrooms
chosen over my kind caress
i wish to help
i am condemned, you are condemned

blame me for seeing it with my own eyes
blame me for loving you with my whole heart
what was i to do, when you asked me to be your boo?

turn away and deny you when i want you too
but i more, you lied; then denied proclaiming accusations
i can't be with you, but god, do i want to

children, ex wife, unemployment when we met
what the **** is wrong with you, and me
what is wrong with me? nothing
just faith

too much faith
maybe it's the ***
maybe it's the snot or the tears
or your tearing through the sheets
trying to get to me as i hide from your rage

too much faith for today,
spend it on yourself
but i dont do what you tell me to
i keep trying to win you

but you're not a special,
especially when you're mean or green with envy
one sided only

but still...
*******, ******, molly, lucy, shrooms....
**** if you went deep sea fishing

any of it over my love
my beautiful kind, understanding love that lingers

You’ve proved them right in your strive to prove them wrong. You’ve shown me the light, you’ve thrown me in. I realize now, I should’ve realized then. I’m just another unfinished book to add to the shelf, I’ve never made anything of myself. I’m wasted youth, like wasted *****. Nothing more, everything less. I’m just another hole in the floor. I’ll grab you by the ankles and pull you down, I’ll tie you to the bottom and wear a crown. But who’d want a crown of this, practically a crown of ****. I sit on a throne of wasted desires, and wasted dreams. Ask what it is to be, I’ll tell you what it’s been for me. I know now, I knew then. I’m a queen, but no queen of men. The crown I hold means just one thing, the throne I own has just one meaning. I am the Queen, no queen of men, but the queen of them. The queen of a lost cause, and a broken power. A queen of losers who will devour, my meal though is not of food. My meal for certain is only you.

I spent years in a seemingly endless depressive state in which I constantly reminded myself of my own mistakes, and tragedies I have been blessed with. Well, they are now blessings to me. Before I was not able to say that, for before they were curses. I am not glad to say that I have grown from them, and no longer let them run my mind on a daily basis, bringing me down in a miserable downpour. I only hope to help others who are stuck in the ruts that I have been through. It may not seem as much, but I was pushed through a lot, and I had never ending depression from the day I turned 6. I am not free of my pain, and I want to free you. Let me free you, let me inspire and challenge your mind. Adventure yourself.

The feeling inside when you realize something you never had even thought before, and you feel so powerful. Feel so immune to the crushing hand of others. Feel as though no one could ever defeat you or take lead. You see they took something so precious from you, but you’ve forgiven them so easily due to the seeing of joy in them. Seeing that it truly has no face on you. You were not harmed, it had been a gift. You were set free, and you were lead onto the strongest path. You’ve taken the lead, and improved yourself. Become so much closer to success than the others, and had no struggles hold you down. No insecurities or mistrusts. You were forgiven by a Godlike force, perhaps God himself implying his own existence. No longer lead astray to confusion and complexity. With this pure simplicity that has been given from hard work, a good heart, and humility. You have won, and they have no yet reached a joyful mark. So set back by their own minds, so confused and unsatisfied in their own complexities. Knowing you no longer have to struggle with this worry, and dishonor of yourself. You are free to decide your own destiny, set free by them. Do not shield your own immunities.

simplicity is so beautiful
i cant stop hearing its sweet whispers
they encourage me to believe

to keep my faith, to keep my perk.

i am here, i will be here
don't stop speaking so softly

i love you, simplicity.

Over time I grow in wonder, try to find a little more of myself. Discover the unknown to grow in a new moon. I search the valley's underlying bed-frames, the heaven's above taking up the dead again. Time after time I just try to find a shred of self reliance. Feeling as though the grass of my life has only been mowed never given the time to grow, I am dry like dirt. I thirst for some knowledge, throw me over the ledge and sacrifice what's all been given just to know. I want to feel it, I want to feel the seductive grasp on my throat being thrown at the wall discovering hard hitting new personality like one of an edgy feminist. What is it to be feminine? Grown from males, filling the wells with blood and testosterone. Why is this my home? No woman for me to learn from, no mother for me to cry on. She tried her best, but the best is of sad wealth when her mind is in a drought. Barely able to help herself, and stand on her own. She's not prone to motherhood, a family to her is of a prison cell mate. Tortured by children of the past, making me feel just like trash. A dump abandoned with not even a pup to protect me. It feels so alone, I wish I could go home but I am home. I'd find myself asking "Where's my relief?" but, for I was young. Young and naive, with no Steve or Eve, a family of my own, I was drifting alone. I once was this, but now I am above it.