I am weak, petty, small.
I am the torturer of all.
My tendrils close around your neck.
I kick your feet out,
And you fall.

I strike you through as you descend.
I twist your mind.
Your spirit bends.
Actions inflict pain.
Words lack respect.
I pull back to strike you through again.

I exhaust your mind, tear your soul, leaving not a nerve to rend.
Absently abusive, and stretched.
Twisted in violence, bent.

I create pain implicitly, just as I expect.
And I inflict the torture that I never, ever meant.

Let Me inflict the torture that I never, ever meant.

I don't burst into tears
I fall into tears
silently
gracefully
like a practiced maneuver
like a missing piece falling back into place
I fall into tears
like they can somehow protect me

Someone once said
when you're happy
you enjoy the music
when you're sad
you understand the lyrics
and that just
makes
sense
because when you're happy you don't worry about anything
but the sweet melody breezing into your ears
and when you're sad
you focus on the deeper things
the real meanings
the connection you missed before
the words

do you ever feel like
your internal clock is ticking
ticking away
like there's so much to do
before a certain age
and if you don't get it done
you're behind?

Now I'm sixteen
going to be 17 in a month
I thought by now
I would have my driver's license
had my first kiss
had even a clue
about what I want to do

but I don't and it makes me feel
so lost

I used to bruise easily
both on the inside
and outside
words used to grab
me like a vise
and leave bruises under the skin
mottling my confidence
with their ugly black hue
fists used to bruise
my eyes, my legs, my arms
on the outside of my skin
leaving marks for all to see
but over the years I built up tolerance
nothing bruises me anymore
nothing can cut me anymore
nothing can hurt me when I don't care
anymore

you-taking me driving when no one else would
you-letting me talk and telling me I'm understood
you-have a checkered past and so do I
you-making me laugh and making me cry
you-have a voice that makes me love my name
you-I love you but I don't think you feel the same
you-always and forever you

my dreams are often twisted reality
a distorted version of real events
and sometimes predictions of future events
that later give me deja vu
but sometimes they are whispered secrets
of things I didn't know happened, or things
I didn't know I wanted
I never remember them, except in small snatches the morning after
but the nightmares resonate, every second after
and they are always always always my reality

I hate having good days
because it means bad months are sure to follow

When happy,
she heals
with her beauty.

When angry,
she kills
with her fury.