The bodies
Thumping
Pounding
Drowning out
My escape

The bodies
Quiet
Soft
Savoring it
The rush

Legs pried open
From
Africa
To
Australia
And the compass needles in between
Girls locked quietly down
As the
Thumping
Pounding
Drowning out
But there's nothing but the wrong to drown out

Bloodied
Beaten
Broken girls
Stripped down to the concrete on the corner streets
Sought out shelter
Somebody see me in the light of the  street lamp

Stripped down to the shock
Of the same language
No matter what continent your feet are on
It's all the same

Thumping
Pounding
Drowning out
The wrong doors close
And the wrong sounds made
With your manhood thrusting apart her gates forcefully
Why would you not just ask

Bury me deep
*****, dark, dead
Let me go through the nights swift hand
Gently and softly
Abruptly, surprisingly
Unpreventable close
Bed of papers
Littered in the streets
Where the angels came to claim me
And He needed another heart and hand
But he does not set me free, he chains me
He does not bring good, he buried me  in the deep.
Now I am soiled
In the dirt of a martyr
In the dark of a beggars hands
In the dead of winters soundtrack

But he did no such thing as disrespect me

Just an e-mail
That floods the dam
And shoots a smile onto your face
That no choir director could ever put there

Just a connection
That crashes over the waves that drown you
And holds you to the stars in the night sky
That shine only in your eyes

When a simple e-mail
Makes you smile a childish, pure smile
And makes you cry after the first sentence,
Knowing
You have a connection

That somebody will ALWAYS be there
That you will NEVER be abandoned, stranded
It's quite honestly the best feeling a human can have
You have a reason worth more then gold
To pick yourself up
Put your feet one  in front of the other
Battle each battle like its your last

Just from an e-mail
Just from a minute to keep me alive and assured

I was falling from a skyscraper
A few seconds, a few more jokes
Until I hit the concrete and the light
flickered out into the black night and fog.
But you saw me frozen, lost
And you reached out your hand and gave me another chance.

A fighter, survivor
We're all one in the same after those 9 months of Hell

I love you more then words could even begin to describe
I don't think you truly know just how much you saved me.

We were supposed to let go of each other,
supposed to walk different ways
and
never
talk
like the beginning of awhile

We were supposed to split,
supposed to fall out
of a first love
and
keep the emotions
inside the chambers of a heart

We were supposed to,
But why does it still hurt
Raw, tender, stinging
Nearly 12 months
Later

We were supposed to,
So why can't I wash out my feelings for you
Love, admiration, security
Stapled
Into my heart
And I don't want to rip the remaining ones out

Were we supposed to
Bleed out?

I want to see the beauty
Of the winter skies crashing, drowning the soft summer night waves
I want to see the frailness
Of the leaves cracking beneath the tires, the feet, the paws
I wish to see happiness
Casting it into the purple grey skies too far for me to grasp between my sleek, scarred fingers
I want to see history
From the little flag crushed in the season's frayed grass. The pink seeping into the roots of the stripes and stars. My muddied blood.And I wish to see the wishing well sparkle in my war-zone eyes, as I toss not just a penny, but a past for my future.

I'm stressing
Present slipping downhill
Future not good enough
Past drags me down

No motivation to start working upwards
No idea where the tunnel leads to
No strength to let go of the old days

I'm stressing

I'm struggling
Chains wrapped around my neck, turning the lights down, even though it's my encore, my last shot to be here.
My family is chipped and cracking and fading colors of love and closeness are being wiped away with every independent meal we eat by ourselves.
My chains, I think they broke and one landed on the shoulders of my mother.
The one who can carry all of us out of a burning house..

A chain that's an anchor, that you can't just throw off or ignore the weight of.
No good morning or sleep well?
No more asking for help when she can't lift something too heavy
No more family dinners and talks
No more security

I'm growing up
Independent
Flying solo
Maybe
Maybe I'm just not ready yet, to be fighting the world myself and have the chains choking me.
Maybe my mother's voice is fading out because those chains of mine finally fell onto her shoulders. And it's all my doing, my weakness and my fault.
Maybe I'm the earthquake that's fraying and shredding our family ties.
Maybe they were right, maybe I need to go...