Freud says tattoos
Are
The Manifestation
Of a
Trauma

Every point
A
Separate pain
We
Have
Suffered

It took
Two
And a
Half
Hours

To complete
The
Diary
Of my
Trauma

And half a million perforations

To convert
Those
Memories
Into something

New

And

Beautiful

To finally
Let go
Of the past

I saw something today
That reminded me of you
So I picked up my phone
Put in your number
And excitedly waited to talk to you
But with every ring you didn't pick up
My heart dropped lower out of my chest
.
.
"I'm not near my phone right now.. that or I'm purposely ignoring you Shanon just leave a message at the beep.. or don't whatever"
.
Beep
.
.

And it all hit me all over again
The feeling of choking
On my own tears
Drowning out the rest of the world
Because it had been so long
Since I last heard your voice
Yet it seemed it was only yesterday
We were playing street hockey
And making fun of eachother
And talking on the phone all night long
Just to hang out all day after
...
We would talk about our past
And what our future may hold
We talked about our demons
And secrets we never told
...
I remember being so angry
The day you left
After all we've been through
No sorry
No goodbye
Not even a single note
Explaining why
You decided I wasn't enough reason
For you to not climb into that bathtub
And press that razor blade onto your skin
...
How dare the sky rumble
When they took your lifeless body just to throw it in the ground
How dare the others cry
When you didn't make a single sound
How dare the birds still sing
When the world was falling apart
How dare the moon still come up
When nothing in the universe seemed to make sense
How dare they believe poems had to rhyme
How dare they still talk about the good old days
How dare they believe for one second they knew you at all
And most of all
How dare you--

How dare you leave me so broken
How dare you leave me so alone
How dare you call me your best friend
Just to leave me on my own?
...
The darkness lingering around my past
Found a deeper grip around my soul that day
As I watched pieces of my heart
Leave with you
.
.
.
Now I find myself sitting here awkwardly
Finally being able to string these useless letters
Into coherent words
To ask you if you're still listening up in the clouds
How dare you not pick up anymore
When I call you on the phone?


~Who else am I supposed to talk to when late at night my demons won't be put to sleep?
Who else am I supposed to talk to when all I want to do is curl up in a ball and weep?

My mind is a room of scattered papers;
Crumbled up suicide notes hidden
Beneath thousands of love poems,
with ink bleeding through
from this all-compassing missing you
until I'm left with only black.
Now the floor is stained,
and my hands are stained,
and I think even my lips are tainted.

An amature artist paints on her face.
Each stroke of the brush is another mistake.
Her natural beauty's concealed away
beneath a thick mess of dark colored paint.

Masked and hidden,
Tucked away and unknown.
Her pain is unseen by the smile painted on.

The thoughts of suicide
and all of her fears
are displayed in a battle between paint and tears.

So she starts all over,
every day.
To try to forget all of her mistakes.
One pat for the failure.
One stroke for the ****.
One sweep for the talent she lets go to waste.

Blends it all together.
Pretends she's okay.
The piece is now ready to be displayed.

Under an immense amount of stress,
Never showing her true pain.
Holding back unwanted tears,
Already feeling them fall
Past her blurry-visioned eyes.
Praying to regain her strength,
Y**earning for a single source of peace...

You brought me down
Broke my strength
Drained me of life

I built myself up,
Fought the lies
Tried to stand

You threw the knives
Made it rain fire
Stole my smile

I flight the mirrors
Became a sea of power
Learned to love

You lashed out with poison
Made the bruises bigger
Became the dark of my nightmares

I became strong
Learned to fight and live
I walked away,
And never looked back