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Shay Nov 2015
Who Am I?

Am I the mistakes I've made?
Am I the scars made with a blade?
Am I insanity?
Am I the bad side of humanity?
Am I the inches around my waist?
Am I supposed to be easily erased?
Am I the imperfections I see every day?
Am I the monster that tried to take my life away?

Or...

Am I the books I've read?
Am I the love I spread?
Am I the dreams I've made?
Am I all those kind words I've said?
Am I the bright light in a world so dark?
Am I the bonfire spark?
Am I the creativity I emit?
Am I the hidden soul and spirit?

Who Am I?
Shay Jan 2016
You fell in love with my crimson petals so fragile,
and the way I'd laugh as I danced around the room so agile.
Though you could not handle my treacherous thorns incredibly aculeate
which could cut you like a knife in the blink of an eye; a particularly mad trait.
Always so willing to thrive upon my kindness and my nature of a good heart
but never could you deal with the madness that came within every time I fell apart.
Shay May 2016
I want to run away to wonderland,
away from these tough times I'd never planned.
Away to find my own Cheshire cat smile,
and to forget all my troubles for a little while.
To smell the perfume of roses as I run through the wood,
falling through the rabbit hole as elegantly as I should.
To have tea parties while being kissed by the sun
with a touch of warmth and a promise of more fun.
I wish to become as lost as Alice in the forest
and to find the madness the Hatter possessed, if I'm honest.
And once I am in wonderland
I'll stay forever, just as I'd planned.
Shay Jul 2016
Explosions of blue and purple cover my skin;
like fireworks where raining punches have been,
and my scarlet gashes are dolorously healed;
harsh memories of my war on the battlefield.
Shay Oct 2015
How satisfying and sublime it is to know
that each wrinkle deep rooted on your face is to show
each of life's wonderful and more difficult points in time wherein
our moments of laughter, tears and frowns are ingrained in our skin -
marks of life and a sign of a beautiful soul within
who has truly experienced life to it's fullest form -
a person who knows existence can be a violent storm.
Shay Feb 2016
Pen in hand waiting to glide across the lined sheet
and yet no blood is spilling upon the page so I admit defeat.
I am void of prodigious literary expression;
my spark has gone and now I must face temporary repression.

— The End —