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It will sting; sedative, seductive, relaxing your body down soft.

Bittersweet poison,
burning away what no longer serves you.

I invade.

I melt inside of you, mending ourselves.

What’s you is me, what is me is now you.

A melted identity.

Bittersweet, togetherness.

To know I am always there.
To feel unison, undivided.
To see truth and trust.

You taste me addictively; trickling acid down your tongue.

You hear my whispered sweet nothings, covering the sizzling of my work.

I am passion;

Pouring my heart and soul into everything and everyone.

I am the Scorpion’s sting.

Will you love me?
12.27.19 | This is an older version of myself. I loved so hard that it consumed my identity. Love is always a tricky thing, whether to give more to them or yourself.
Renée Brookes Jul 2017
Here I sit, as always.
I am waiting for life to find me.

Upon this ledge:
uneven pigtails,
cold glassy skin,
shattered chest,
for a nest of spiders
covered by frilly cloth.
It makes me feel beautiful.
The patterned plaid,
sewn by my mistress.

She made me without love,
untaught to my sisters;
handled, mishandled, carelessly.

My shell sits here like always,
waiting for love to find me.

The spiders tickle; so many.
Dust cloaks me from interested eyes.
My stare is blank,
HORROR movie scary.
I'm sorry, I don't know another stare.

Please someone see me,
deep where something should be.
I will wait atop this ledge forever.
Renée Brookes May 2017

I reach for the blur above me,
grasping for my own circles of life.
They, in return, float to abandon me.

Keep Breathing

I'm thinking,
didn't you all see me;
witness me throw my shoes to the side,
pull my pants down to my ankles,
then off around my feet?
Didn’t you watch me
lift my shirt above my head,
and dive in head first?

Maybe you didn't hear the splash,
the hard deafening sound of my body
crashing into waves.
Maybe you didn't feel the splatter of the ocean across your faces as you onlooked;
Or just maybe you walked away at the perfect moment to be able to say,

I had no idea she'd gone and done such a thing.
My baby would never do something like that.

Just maybe,
*It's time to learn how to swim.
You might be thinking, "you should hold your breath under water not breathe." I mean keep living and not give up even though sometimes you'll be alone.
Renée Brookes Apr 2017
She is a moth to flames,
fluttering so beautifully.
The night's light sparks her heart,
pumping doses of adrenaline.

           Thump Thump


Music booming, cocktail burning;
an Orange Twist in her hand.

Hey baby, can I get you another?
*******! You fine as hell!
Hey cutie, wanna dance?

Yes, she is a moth to flames,
always fluttering so blindly.
***** scalds her tongue and down her throat;
confused yet she twirls in the blaze.
The strands of her life unravel into
another unfamiliar home,
with another unfamiliar face.

The smell of white lies lined across the table,
a familiar friend to ignite her heart's beat.


Renée Brookes Mar 2017
I purchased a ticket to your matinée.
You sold me on the storyline.
Boy likes girl,
girl likes boy,
live happily ever after.

Everyone loves a happy ending.

Here I am, front row and center,
popcorn in hand;
clueless as to why I am alone.
In this dark, cold, empty place,
I am alone.

Nonetheless, here for you.

The curtain rises, it's your time to shine.
It's just like you said,
boy likes girl,
girl likes boy.

There are no two hearts more in unison,
though it seems something unsettles his mind.

Thoughts of her lying,
Thoughts of her cheating,
Thoughts of her leaving,
bestow tragedy.

I am waiting.
Where is the happy ending?
I am here waiting to watch you love,
to watch you hold,
to watch you unite.

I throw popcorn at your deceit,
at your paranoia,
at your hysteria.

You ripped me off.
I now know why I am alone.
In this dark, cold, empty place,
I am alone.
Renée Brookes Mar 2017
3.05.17  /  8:00AM

No more. No more. Please, I'll stop.
Please.. Please.

He says to me after.

After, dragging me
from the living room floor into the bedroom.
After, lifting me up
throwing me down to the bed.
After, pinning me down,
my arms above my head.
After, spitting threats into my face.
After, muffling my cries,
slapping me until I stop.
After, I don't stop.
After, I cry harder into hyperventilation.
After, my breaths become shorter and shorter
making me light headed.
After, he realizes what that means.

After, he begins crying too.

No more, please. I'll do whatever you want.
Please.. don't leave, *
Renée Brookes Mar 2017
He has two heads.
I don't count the one below,
as some would call it;
I mean two on his shoulders.
One is for lure.
His mouth breathes love and fantasies,
caressing with words of nurture.
The other is to ****.
That mouth breathes toxins, poisons,
rotting you slow from the inside out,
still leaving you to feel loved.
This is just how he is,
wandering around with two heads;
And the body of a snake.
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