it's hard,
my story is of love and of strength,
in which one i do not possess,
walls of water leak into my room as i wait to drown,
but my soul says be free,
it so badly wants to be,
but it be,
trapped.
In a web of lies,
a maze of confusion,
but a window of certainty.
Knowing what it wants,
but not knowing what it creates,
knowing that it is me,
but knowing it isn't what they want it to be.
My soul is at war with it's truth,
but in battle with it's reality.
What do I do?

i am lost,
in an abyss of never ending confusion,
coiled in thorns of hollow,
rooted in fertile soil

the days before twelve haunt me still,
expecting those to die on the eve of my hallow soul,
it is reborn nine days afterward,
i am afraid,
i am drained

i have lost all hope for the things i hoped
my body has been at war with itself,
physically and mentally

i sit long days staring at walls
thinking of failed dreams and aspirations
as i struggle to live the life i lived before my nightmare began

i am here,
writing,
not fully healed but forcing these wounds closed,
taking my steps back into this sanctuary as if it is my first time,
as if it is my first step

i cannot let these wounds remain opened
i cannot allow my soul to be ****** from my very being,
i have to live,
i have to stand in me and you,
and live,
and love,
and learn,
and be,
strong

A boy sits alone blinking away falling rapid tears,
lipstick in hand,
eyes glazed in eternal pain.
She sits in shelter,
tears in hand,
dripping like lilies falling through shimmering thighs.
She thinks of him as his lips,
red as crimson,
eyes shimmering like the glitter she uses to hide her pain.
Their love broken by acid tongues and toxic systems,
they remain fragile.
Fearing the letters that were long created by no one.
Face painted for lights to see,
his tears have ruined this canvas.
He hides the rain deep within,
in order to maintain the desert his flesh must remain.
Bathed in strong fumes,
clothes engulfed in flames,
she feels sorrow.
The only light is the multicolored flames slowly dying in their eyes.
She kisses his lips in silence.
Lips of cherry and mango dipped in crimson paint,
oh how sweet.
False labels tattooed upon his face,
while rebellious truth seeps from his wounds.
Her skin rains as his soul dies.
He slips from life all because...
dictation,
creation,
labels,
mentality

glistening wings shimmer deeply through unearthly winds,
a child striding past a field of poisonous thorns,
tongues providing false shadows blinding my sight,
i can now see,
the sky cries,
puddles give off reflections,
sunlight bounces off of each false shadow,
lighting the child's path,
open mind safety resides within this pure misguided soul,
immunity to poison,
resting,
deep within my mind,
foggy roads and clear paths,
angels guiding me to my wings,
wings soar above the things i once knew

love is a golden being traveling through fields of war