I'll be smarter this time
I'll hide the scars under a cuff of beads
bracelets and jewelry
shiny things I adore so much
because if you find the blood again
I won't hesitate to tell you the truth this time
that I've relapsed again
because you make me want to die

I am peaches, the color purple and weeping willows
summer, pool parties and fireworks
I am roses, dark chocolate and cranberries
true crime documentaries and spicy books
I am mountains and rushing creeks
long runs and misbehaving hair
I am the scent of strawberries and watermelon jolly ranchers
huge libraries and rain
I am dandelions and volleyball
homemade jellies, pasta and long hot showers
I am photography, pencil lead and llamas
scrapbooking, gardening and shiny things
I am beaded bracelets, ripped jeans and hoodies
mascara and braids, bruises and scratches
I am all that I am

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office


                                           Died While Trying

                                  (prompted by an idea by Nagi)


                     “Every day you play with the light of the universe”

                                                 -Neruda

          
The glory of killing an old man already dying
Is heralded by the clinking of colorful medals
As a president is helped into his Mercedes
By white-gloved lieutenants wearing golden aiguilettes

The old man dying in his bed was a challenge to evil
Through the love-letters of freedom he wrote to the world
Ambassadors of hope that could not be recalled
Just as a subtle injection cannot be withdrawn

A flowering of ideas in verses freely exchanged
Crushed beneath boots polished by frightened houseboys

Mr. Selfish loves himself
He doesn't care about anyone else
All he does is spew spew spew
About how much better he is than you

Mr. Selfish is a liar
He doesn't care if your mind is on fire
All he cares about is himself
And couldn't give a **** about anyone else

Mr. Selfish pretends to be sweet
He fools everyone into thinking there's nothing to defeat
If you are hurt he wouldn't cry
In fact he'd laugh and wish you'd die

Mr. Selfish is my name
I am evil and I am insane
All I care about is myself
Everyone else can go **** themself.

Art is supposed to be beautiful
My mind is far from that
Memories and dreams mix together
It was far too much to look at

Blades and apologies
Water bottles and gum
Anything to pretend
Anything to be numb

Creating a person
Made out of emptiness
Morphing myself into a human
Because God knows I wasn’t one

Blonde bits of hair
Tears of despair
Long letters with kisses
Flowers for your stitches

I never forgot the look on your face
When I told you what I’d done
Regret and disappointment
Fear and uncertainty
I hate for you to see me
Your face painted lovingly

I’m more than a mess
More than a dumspterfire
But I’ve been broken every now and then
And through the darkness
I’ll find a way to be pure once again

Pictures of her hang quietly on my wall
Carelessly tracing her fingertips along my jaw
Gift wrapped chocolate
Secret handwritten letters tucked in my pocket
Unspoken words
Never to be heard

This feeling of belonging
Unfamilar, but sweet
It enveloped my soul
Making me feel oh so complete

This feeling, so fleeting
So bitter and painful
All I wanted was something real
But I always end up with with someone hateful

In the end, I’m glad you left
We weren’t meant to be
But I still think about you, sometimes
As my own bittersweet memory
You never really loved me

Apologies,
Just words,
Words anyone could say.
Did you really mean it?
You say you did,
but why did you do it again?

Please don't say sorry,
While pretending to feel regret.
Thinking after just one word,
Everything will be fine,
That three simple words,
Will change how I see you now.

But I can't.

How are words supposed to erase
The pain, tears, and scars,
already made?

I used to think blue eyes were pretty,
his were not.
his were not cornflower, sapphire, baby, indigo, azure,
or cloudy sky blue.
His were midnight where the light pollution from the city blocks the stars.
Iceberg, squall, hypothermia, eventual death

I want to break the cycle of abuse
that I was subjected to
I don't want to be feared
I don't want to be known
by my footsteps
I don't want to scream at the slightest mishap
I don't want to beat people
or push them down
or place their worth on grades
I want to be loving and kind
I want to be loved
and be a safe place to talk
I want to give comfort instead of pain
I want to put value on effort
not a letter grade
kids might not be for me
but if they are
in the future
I don't want to continue the
cycle of abuse
I will break the cycle
when/if the time comes