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AavelinaJaden Mar 2016
Lend me your voice like a Shepard guiding me home. Tell me how you see yourself, not like in a picture or a mirror,  dig a hole inside your chest like a grave digger and unearth the ***** reality. ***** that consciousness until there isn't anything left holding you back and stare it in the face. Those eyes are yours, those lips that nose this whole ******* body is all you actually have so don't tell me you treat it like a tombstone just taking up space. Remove yourself from from the cemetery of self misery and plant yourself in resurrection.
Tell me about your drug of choice as I pull the needle out of your arm for what I hope is the last time, you absent-mindedly pick at a scab and say that it feels like your first tattoo, an old clock, a wristwatch that says time isnt ticking by fast enough
You said that it started with nicotine because girls could be so mean and you didn't understand why the first girl you ever loved choked you in bed and you said that you started to confuse *** with death, Tell me how it’s so easy to fall back into routine, how its just like breathing and how you cant seem to catch your breath, you tell me running from your problems isn’t a good idea when you have asthma and you know youre killing yourself but cant stop
Tell me your sign, whether its yield or “no right turn” so when youre left standing on the corner of suicide and denial I can come pick you up.
AavelinaJaden Mar 2016
Now
We study the bible religiously but maybe if you lived with God in your head and off your tongue you'd act as if the devil weren't the only one on your shoulder.  We are not equal so shed that skin like the snake that you are and reveal your true colors. You are not sugar and spice.  You are everything but nice.  Sin, corrupt infallible undeniable undeniably selfish, you are.
I'm ashamed to be part of a world that only sees black and white when there are a million shades of grey and why we value one over another.  Why we see the world only through stars and stripes when it's been proven round.  Round and round history goes, repeating like a moral debate. Separation of church and state? Eve was our first lady. What a saint, what a martyr, what a *****:  women should be liberated not just furniture with pretty upholster designed to do nothing but gather dust.
The only mark left on a body should be that of Cain, to serve and to protect, to hold one another up like the atlas held the sky. Be the map, not the fire and lead the way to a new era, a generation that generates art instead of war, a world that doesn’t take lives, just gives more. We are the salt of the earth and you are the salt of the sea, can’t you see? Open your eyes, step from the shadow into the light and then maybe you can understand that two wrong turns don’t make anything right.
AavelinaJaden Mar 2016
O' Blackbird cant you see in good faith what you've done to me, surely you must since you never blink an eye, O' blackbird how under ever such a watchful presence could I lie, early bird catches the worm but neither one of us rest, please O' dear let me leave the nest, I promise I wont stray near of far or reach for any a star, I just want a break
let me fly  O' blackbird,  let me be unconfined, I will always be yours and you will always be mine, I just long to let my wings stretch and soar, me and the sky forevermore, how the blues and greys are nothing compared to ours
AavelinaJaden Mar 2016
His touch was light as a feather
                                  Made of metal and coal
It burned a mark into my heart
                            And into my cheek as well
Swaddled me in layers of warmth
                                         But left me so cold
It tickled my nerves
                                  And tested my patience
I fell in love with a bird
                               The wind could not catch
AavelinaJaden Feb 2016
what is a paper without lines
these sullen faces show no decline
     or any remorse for their action

     im not a poet if I cannot write
     about these tragic spiritual beings in my sight
          you, beautiful devil, are my inspiration

               this square paper and these four walls
               so whitewashed with ambitions so tall
                    holding my pen like I wanna hug my freedom

the silence is suffocating
nails on the chalkboard, mandating
     every thought in this epitome of a prison

         the clock is tick tick ticking down
         tick tick ticking without a sound
               the boredom gaining excellent momentum

                   I ran out of ink, ill have to use blood
                   im running out of sanity, 6 feet under the mud
                          I guess that would mean that I am done
AavelinaJaden Feb 2016
Appalachia did cry out home to me
my young mistress ne'er  could compare to
the love felt in thy heart and soul for thee
she smells of early morning petal dew

why does this land captures me so troubled
these branches have become a rustic cage
beaten and bruised thoughts left me white knuckled
she entrances and entices no matter age

I hear the whispers calling to my veins
held in open arms, immortalized dream
you are thy only breath, wide open plains
she hints at lust of remembrance, a scheme

           long to rest my feet upon thy soul
           thy roots and mind so constantly toil
AavelinaJaden Feb 2016
to put yourself in my shoes
is hard when they have holes
filled with dirt from the heart
These Appalachian souls

we work
from night till morn
These rough calloused hands
so tired and worn

a love like my pillows
after a long day
though do I complain
‘nay

These hills have ears
that I ain’t wishin to disrespect
so I whisper and pray
and hope to connect

to the rolling meadows
and slopping range
my deep roots
who have no desire to change

when times get tough
ill never miss
the land that loved me
that beautiful whiskey kiss
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