So tired of feeling helpless,
So tired of feeling low,
With a past this dark and loveless,
It's the only way I know.
I've been bent
And I've been broken.
Fell from the rooftop
To the floor.
Now I'm restless,
But I'm hopeful,
Tho sorrows stirring in my soul.
As I tumble through my darkness
Crying softly to myself,
I only wish
that you could hold me,
I think your love
may break the spell.

after you left
i couldn't stop feeling your touch all over mine
and i could feel the pressure
of your sweet addicting lips
and the pulsing beat of your heart in my veins

and a week after
of sleeping alone
i tried to cut you out of my skin
and no matter the amount of blood that ran
or the number of times i've blacked out
you're still in my veins


you won't get out

As I lay here
Encapsulated in softness
I close my eyes tenderly
For my dreams are placid
Gossamer, floating wild yet gently
My dreams are the sparkles
My dreams are the ambers
But my dreams are not dreams
My dreams are honeyed streams
Manifestation
Of bliss, of love so pure

I am witness of a miracle
I was born once as mortal clay
Buried deep within, seeds of my dark fate
They said,
“You can change not,
Your fate is forged,
On iron pages it is wrought”
Exclaimed I;
“Does not moisture crack the seeds?
Does not I carry that grows to reed?”

So I marched on barren lands
Wildly searching that could damp
Scared,  a step with each heartbeat
Thorns piercing and bleeding my feet
To heavens I prayed in desperate I cried,
Tears of agony in my eyes
That moment bestowed upon me
Our blood is the water that damps the seeds
The more we bleed, the more we reap

Hence I was reborn amongst sunniest rays
To taste the sweetness in bitterness
To experience the noise in silence
To listen the music in smiles
To see the laughter in eyes

As I drift to sleep now
I will not dream, I can never dream
My reality is too beautiful,
My reality is all I dream

Until that day when,
My reality becomes only a dream,
When my lids would turn stones
And the blood in me runs dry
Till that last day,
I will use my blood
To moist my seeds of fate

charlie chaplin
once told his daughter
that her naked body should only
belong to those
who fall in love with
her naked soul.
now,
my soul’s hardly naked.
it wears layers and layers
to keep hurt out,
sometimes to keep love out.
but if you can manage
to strip me down,
my soul bare,
and the rest of me clothed
but ******* shivering
like a little kid who got
caught in a blizzard,
trying to catch snowflakes
to keep under my tongue;
if you manage to pull that
all away
and strip me down
to a mess of
private parts –
the parts i don’t tell people
about,
the parts i sectioned off
and hastily labeled
mineminemine
because i wasn’t ready to
share myself,
and the parts of myself
i deemed too fragile
to withstand
your gaze.
you see,
i don’t dismantle
my walls
for just anybody.
but if you strip me down,
past the things we all use
to hide out,
maybe you could love
my naked soul.
i’ve never been the kind of girl
who liked the idea of
“belonging”
to someone but
there are much worse fates
i could think of
than belonging to
you.

The tragedy of technology
The power of the written word
We're all just writing our thoughts
Waiting for our minds to be heard

Many emotions, fears and horrid dreams
Our deepest secrets exposed in a few lines
Never getting the rhymes right, or so it seems
Life, love and the future we see in our minds

Though the words may be small
Poetry says it all.