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  Sep 2015 Izzy
mystique
Do not choose the girl who is battered and bruised,
the girl who always lost.
Do not choose the boy who is hurt,
the boy who never knew how to care.
Do not choose the girl with fears,
the one who never lives and is always scared.
Do not choose the boy with scars on his wrists,
the boy who has only one friend and that is his blade.
Do not choose the girl with a fake smile and drowsy brown eyes,
the one who only gives love but never accepts it.
Do not choose the boy with a loud laugh and a big crowd,
the one who has loneliness tattooed near his heart

Do not choose someone  not "normal",
by normal i mean someone with no flaws.
Do not choose them if you know you will constantly hurt them and learn new ways to tear them down.

Do not choose imperfection if all you wanna deal with is perfection.
nobody is perfect.
  Jun 2015 Izzy
Ellyn k Thaiden
When you date a
Poet
Author
A person blessed with talent for words

Expect
Dramatic texts
Meaningful talks
And emotions stirred

Be prepared for
Long nights with us reading
Or writing
And crumpled papers on the floor

Don't try to comfort us with
Fake compliments
And "you tried" speeches
Just hold us and tell us to start from scratch

Because when you're in love
With a
Poet or
Author

They will offer you a
Love unfathomable
And continuous
And inconsistent

Because love is
Not perfect
And we will never
Claim to be
Izzy Jun 2015
The Joker, they called him.
         Your fate resting in the cards he held

The deck he carried
      kings, queens, aces and jacks.
but, no joker.
    Why?
Well because, that was he.

"Smile, its your turn."
          He'd laugh,
   A sinister smile staining his lips.

"Lets play a game, my dear."
    "What game?"
The question always fearfully asked

"Well...
         simply,
                     a game of Russian roulette!"
He'd gleefully exclaim.

"But, just one question....
                                  What's your lucky number?"
He'd say, shuffling a deck of knife sharp cards.

"And in the end we all lose!"
He'd grin, before going to capture his next game.
Izzy Jun 2015
Lines randomly surface from the chaos called my mind
then
         in the dark of the night
i stitch them together
                                  piece by piece,
                                  line by line
       just as a seamstress would

but when day comes

demons and monsters alike
                                             attack
ripping through my creation
                             much like Cinderella's evil stepsisters did the night of the ball

as day turns to night
and
night turns to day

the process repeating

until armed with a silver needle and a red string
i piece it together for the final time

now it stands in front of me.
and i watch as
it joins the many pieces that have journeyed through hell.
  May 2015 Izzy
Mercurychyld
Only you can translate
where you are
on your voyage through
this varied farce
called “life”.

No one else can dictate
to you…
or should even dare…
how to phrase
your feelings,
your thoughts,
your personal moments.

Who is anyone to
cause another to feel
inept or inferior
for wording their
experiences as they will?

We are all both
audience and poet,
consumed by the
powerful spell of words
and meaning
we are bonded
in ink.

It takes gumption
and courage
to give voice to
your vision of
the world.

It often requires
resilience and nerve
to open your heart
and peel back the
layers of skin,
and let others take
a long look at the
inner workings of YOU.

Be brave,
take courage,
let your soul speak
in its very own
language.

People will read
your words and
listen to the sweet
whispers
and thunderous shouts
that flow from pens
and keys
to release the
inner demons and angels
and the lyrical
vines that bloom and live
in our individual
landscapes,

fluidly coursing from
our own rabbit holes
with fortitude and grace
and our neverlands,
where we need never
grow up,

to share with those
that need to see
and hear and feel
and wonder.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights
Izzy May 2015
I am a witness
A girl unknown to me caught my eye
Debating and questioning myself
I messaged her
2 days and many questions later
I asked
It lasted two months
My birthday had come and gone
Each gift playing a role
Another question asked
Her answer determining what I would share
I explained the sides of myself
And begun to crack the walls I’d built so long ago
Between what the world  sees and the darkest parts of me
Slowly but surely my mask unknowingly fell
Until one night
Sitting huddled over my phone
My heart pounding in my ears
Blanketed in deafening silence
The noise of my family, distant
I revealed to her the last layer of myself
The one that no one had ever seen
The last thing standing between the real me and her
I warned her
My voice shaking with uncertainty
Confidently she stepped forward
And uncovered ….
Moments passed
With each one
I fell deeper into thoughts of regret
“Perfect.”
That one whispered word brought me back
blue eyes shining with uncertainty
met,
her green eyes, shining with love and acceptance
My shoulders dropped
Relief washing over me
Through my own eyes…
I am a witness
Izzy Apr 2015
you never really understood why I couldn't meet your eyes, or anybody else's for that matter. Eyes are the windows to the soul and i have more secrets than you could ever count. i never met your eyes because you'll read me and I don't want to be read like an open book. I don't trust many people with a secret but a total stranger could look me in the eyes and know everything. i guard myself with maximum security, my eyes are the only part of me that ever gets a break from the cage i locked myself in. you never really understood why i talked low either. someones voice could give away everything they're feeling, no matter how strong the mask they've pasted on is.
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