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Alexsandra Danae Nov 2022
My beautiful ******* monster
My delicate orchid of raging war
Our time has not yet
Run out, because -
Beyond right and wrong
Beyond out dated concepts of
Good and evil
I will find the space inside
Deep in the middle, and
Hidden betwixt infinite worlds
A field of wildflower rainbows
With ribbons of colors swaying
Art forms dancing
The song a peaceful wind
Come, My love! Seek me out!
We will be reunited there, after
This moment, this then and gone
Timeless blink has lifted its eyelids
Mine, yours, ours and
Everyone, just the
Energy and passion
The true  existence beneath
The love of The Universe,
Our igniting force; a lullaby
Melody so perfect, created
And our laughter following, when
We realize the truth, see
What is genuine existence;
Remember our essence, our truth
And are restored
Because we are dualistic
We have been split apart -
Temporarily severed from
Our eternal state of being
Where we burn as
Our own selves and yet
We are also each other
And when our souls collide
We will once again be made whole
In the infinite, My Love
We are in fact already
Reunited in our love there
More beautiful than before
Friday, 29 July 2022 (edited+ Sunday, 21 August 2022)
For Warren, My Love, My Person, My Heart. Always.
No matter how bottomless your hatred of me in this life. Still always and forever.
Infinite.
Mar 2021 · 114
Unsalvageable Ash
Alexsandra Danae Mar 2021
It's been nearly seven years since we first met
Memories a jumbled blur of discontent

I've let the uglies swoop and swirl about
Preserving my calm, my silence more days than not
A toxic attempt for securing peace
With only a mere handful of drunken outbursts;
Alcohol the doorway to displeasure leaking
To melancholy creeping, precursors to the eruption of my hidden turmoils
Breaking free from their cage of suppression

Pretending not to notice as pebbles -
even boulders
Of mephitic waste began to dimple our bond
A connection already held by fragile, whispy strands
For convenience, I denied and ignored -
with such vehemence!
The growing weight of the unacknowledged stones
Unfortunate truths granted undisputed leave from my cognizance
Moments to days to this verge of seven years

This burden of ignorance has grown heavier than I can continue to bear
And fewer of the rocks can be hidden away
The truth of the sickness living amongst us;
The severity of the cancerous tumor
Spreading like wildfire,
Turning all that I am into blackened smears
of unsalvageable ash

Now after years of slowly fading away, and
Parts of who I was obliterated beyond repair
I stand in shock, and bundled in shame
Over how I've allowed you to treat me
The complete control my negligence (allowed?) You to take
And while I blame you for the bullets you used
To shoot down my self worth and vibrancy
I blame myself for the self loathing,
Already quite enough in the very beginning
To hand you every key you needed to
Unlock and dismantle me

I'm too tired to mine a shard of empathy from the darkened cave protecting my heart
And the time to repair the fractures has passed
Your words and accusations, throwing the blame on me, even as you beg me to stay
I'm sorry but this time I cannot stay
I have to salvage the remains of me before I'm entirely dust
And admit to everyone, but myself most of all,
That some things were just never meant to be saved.
04 November 2020
Mar 2020 · 99
Untitled
Alexsandra Danae Mar 2020
**** this nonsense
I used to be
I was a human
I had feeling
Now I'm empty
Without words
My language fails me

I settled for you
And I closed up
Like a cocoon
But this butterfly is dying
I don't think
I don't
That this butterfly is going to emerge

You've pushed me so far down
I've forgotten who I am
You're murdering my soul
Shredding my essence

And I didn't notice
I just forgot
I forgot I was a living being

But now I see
And I will fight
I will brawl
Until my death
To set myself free
And be who I am

How did I forget?
Feb 2014 · 810
rubber band
Alexsandra Danae Feb 2014
pushing, pulling
stretching, contracting
so back and forth
almost as if
our relationship is
made of rubber bands

so I am trying
training myself
to be more flexible
but there's something
I can't seem to
accept; I can't
just let go and not
dwell on with
such unproductive
worry, worrying...

how long do I possess?
just how long until
this rubber band grows
brittle and snaps?
how long until
we're devoid of our
elasticity
and left with
only scrap bits
of ugly little pieces
repulsive grey shreds
scattered about randomly
- mere garbage, serving
as nothing more
than so much *******
littering our floors?

maybe I should
just ask this -
how much time
are you capable
of giving to me
without your being
within my presence
a forced effort?
and not a
personally desired
behavior of choice?

because, you see
although I will hold out
until the last
moment possible
I want to have
at the least, a
meager pathetic hint
warning me and
giving me time
to prepare
my mind and
my scar-riddled heart
for another lashing
so I won't be
entirely broken and
worthless when you
go and break it
break and shatter
chip another chunk away
from what little
I have left
that deformed glob
of an *****
pumping my blood
throughout my veins
and keeping me
a lost ******
I loathe this that
I am already
a weak, ugly
prisoner of my
own malicious
and traitorous
****** beating heart
Monday, 20 January 2014
Alexsandra Danae Oct 2013
I'm writing you a note
just because
because I'm feeling like
I have to
feeling like I'm
helpless here
and without your rough
forceful touch
I'm angry and aching
craving my bittersweet
agonies
wickedness creeping up
from the black hole
that hides behind
my human skin
please
pathetic and weak
though I likely seem
I'm willing to beg
down on my knees
grated concrete
scraping against my flesh
scratched and bloodied
and I'm pleading
make your palms, your
fingertips, piercing stings
hold me down
**** me and take any
notions of my possessing
power far away
make me see how
I'm nothing, just
worthless and infuriating
and you, so much like a god
why yes, you're the god
god of everything
so break me down
and rip me
limb from limb
and seam by seam
for I am merely a
servant girl
and you've the part
of the cruel king
come to me now
please come
come and punish me
I am nothing, lost
perplexed thoroughly
without you to bring me
to life
for I only become truly alive
in moments of raw abuse
so won't you come now
please
you strong, glorious man
and help me live awhile
inside the blood and bruises
that'll be left by
your pounding, ******
hands
you're exactly the one
I want to deliver
deserved consequences for
my countless sins
a beating into submission
my soul
for a little while, at least
alert and cleansed
pleasure me by flooding me
in an ocean of  hurt
every wave some new sort
of pain
your lessons are the single
part of my existence
I long for so desperately
most passionately crave
I'm begging, come
now please
remember me, helpless here
and share the beauty
only your own source
your inner darkness can so
easily create
October 2013
Sep 2013 · 1.5k
Satisfied with Fucking...
Alexsandra Danae Sep 2013
It's cold and it's empty, this
hollowed out feeling of pleasure...
I focus on the rush of desire -
desire for the sensations alone...
The sweet friction in my center,
the pounding force of what is
you, merely a tool for my cravings'
fulfillment; an object for nothing
but my physical satisfaction;
a satiating of my burning lust...
You're worthless to me outside
this externally needful task...
Not my heart, neither my soul,
have even the smallest holding
pocket, cradling some sort
of love or care for you...
Tell me, please, why we do
this to ourselves, over and
over, again and again...?
Are we honestly contented by
the passionless movements of
our graceless pieces and parts?
Is this animalistic ritual
the solution for what we so
desperately search for; that for
which we agonizingly struggle,
crawling down confused, tangled
paths, looking without knowing
exactly what we seek,
despairing, sickly, exhausted, and
so pathetic; so pitifully weak??
Are we satisfied with *******?
Just *******: could that be
the answer to the question
that, from existence becoming,
the human being has been,
from the depths of the soul,
constantly, repetitively screaming?
I cannot bring myself to
believe such a notion could hold
a sand grain's worth of truth, but
you seem to have accepted
this joyless, hope-crushing idea,
and as for myself, I know
I'll only continue ignoring that
which my heart keeps urgently
speaking with a driving,
whispering voice, from my
inner-most recesses, and
continue on with the oblivious
dance of this pretending; this
charades game all the world
eagerly strives to play...
I will bottle the juices of
my self-deceiving, self-depriving
fruits, borne of my guilt, my
denial birthed shame...
Yes, of course! I'm absolutely
satisfied with the act of
mere *******! Feelings of
wholeness sweep and flutter,
butterflying the insides
of my body's unseen puzzle pieces,
and I'm simply overflowing
with this ever so peaceful calm...
Lies, fiction, deception, robed
by willfully grasped ignorance,
keeps us marching, two-by-two,
silently miserable husks, just
living until it's time to lay
in another void-like place, this
one our grave, lonely and cold...
And now it doesn't seem like
there's anything left, for
any one of us, to say...
I just wrote this poem, and I'm uncertain that it's wholly just right. For now, however, it will suffice.  Sunday, 15 September 2013 4:50 AM
Aug 2013 · 707
Nameless Fragment of a Poem
Alexsandra Danae Aug 2013
I'm so cold without you possessing that piece of myself
I was perfectly warm before you though; there weren't self requirements
So there must be a way I might rediscover freedom now that you're gone
And reawaken my inner freedoms, that've always lived, all on my own
More random old ******* of mine that I stumbled across...
Aug 2013 · 1.0k
Faithlessness
Alexsandra Danae Aug 2013
Hope so often feels foolish
A belief of reasons, purpose
Such a dismaying risk to trust
But in doubting, what if we sin?

If indifference is potentially easier
And our desires are left without expectation
Are we merely protected from possible disappointment
Or are we trashing our faith in God's abilities to keep us free?
I found this saved under a strange file on my phone. It's obviously my writing, but I don't really have any memories of the composing. I don't think it was finished, but I'm over it.
Jul 2013 · 1.2k
Darkly Cloaked
Alexsandra Danae Jul 2013
ANGUISH,
a wicked, deafening drum
synced with the brutal,
monotonously thudding rhythm
of my own jaded,
bitter heart's sickly beat
each throb of my
pulse rips savagely
at my seams
the wretched sobbing
of a crumbling soul
trickles and weeps out from me
and darkly cloaked
within the furthest reaches
of my disassembling being
secrets spun into silky
spider web strands
ensnare any shreds of light
holding truth and hopes
captive until they can be
drained to lifeless husks
****** to infinite suffocation
struggling with an unconquerable  battle
a war, the likes of which
no human has ever,
even just once,
managed to have won
there's no cure,
no remedy to mend
what's broken, breaking,
shattering all around

I'M CRYING and begging at
an unseen God to come
come to my rescue
pleading for an intangible,
omniescent being to
destroy the tower built by
my own sinful nature
my own deceit
praying to a Creator
whose very existence I
still can't help but to
question and sink in doubts
but for that miniscule chance
He's real and might
maybe help me...
because the very reality
of such mercy and grace
could bring this
otherwise undefeatable
curse crashing down,
down, down, down...

THE DRUMMING,
banging out its mad rhythm
of anguish
changing, changing now
changing its infuriating tune...
with the final
dying grains of
my imagination,
I'll shove aside my
terror; my unholy fear
of the relentless
force of disappointment
I'll indubitably feel when
I reach my finishing line
clutching onto a
hideous fail
such an asinine act,
this allowing of a bitsy
fragment of hope
to creep and crawl
inside the walls
of my mind
but I've nothing more
left beyond this
bleak black floor
sagging beneath my feet
and a hope,
regardless how quiet,
no matter how
pitifully dim,
could quite easily be
the absolute  final
spark of light that
my eyes shall ever see...
Jun 2013 · 781
My Slaughtering Hour
Alexsandra Danae Jun 2013
Well *******, Mr. High and Mighty ******* Man
Don't give me that ugly face, squashed into a most vile shape, a pitying look
I'm not your concern, and I'd never wish to be for one so emptied
I haven't forgotten how to stand guardian over my space or grounds
I'm liquid in movement, effortlessly able to ****** from the air every stone my enemies throw
Breaking down their walls, their homes with their own weapons, dancing and singing while they run and weep
I can find laughter in their crushed despairs and mangled hopes
So how is it that ignorance gave you the courage to dare allow me to see that face?
Your disgusted pity bright as day and glaring in the sweltering heat
I can clearly tell how you play, imagining me as someone you could victimize; someone weak...
I won't deliver a verbal warning, but regardless still, if you haven't removed yourself promptly from my sight -
I'll show you just how mistaken your judgments passed in blind idiocy have been
You'll fall face first in the mud with all of the rest of these, my victims
For now time is out, and mercy is all but extinct
And anyway, what's one more self-righteous ****** going to change?
As so many pigs are now to be lead to their slaughter house curtain close
I'm too bitter, a irreversibly jaded executioner, lacking the patience to mind God or grace...
Well ******* again, lingering unaware of my rage, you've earned my vengeance as your fate
Jun 2013 · 813
Poetic Garbage
Alexsandra Danae Jun 2013
Who is this? This melancholy, lusterless, sad-eyed girl?
Sitting there, in an anguished silence, only hollowly responsive
Perplexed and dismayed by the qualms this life has rapidly unfurled
A heartbroken, lonely ghost of a woman, stripped of all treasures she wished to give
 
Who is to blame? Who forced her to board that otherwise lifeless train?
When it reaches its final stop (the end of the line...) fault shall be hung on what sorry name?
As this girl steps out on to the platform, destination-less, cold and soggy in the rain
To whom might she raise her finger, pointing out the wretched being who first began this ****** game?
 
What if an ugly truth, her answer, is a monster, too hideous to stand and face?
Might she recognize the feet that carried her, each of the steps past, leading to present grounds?
Or perhaps she'll cling to denials, fearing her sins too heavy to be lifted through grace
And regardless, what of hopes, acceptance and loves still hiding? For this girl, could they yet be found?
 
I watch while she sits, waiting vainly for some resolution; her guiding light to come take her away
Of my presence she seems unaware, and I've seen her eyes fill up behind a quiet blink, then spill
In those moments, I cry as well, and beg of God to take the chains from her soul, let her lovely spirit again play
Left to hold her own reigns of mercy and faith, her hands will create the misery-rope she'll eventually be hanged with and killed...
 
We are the same, but divided ourselves; split into two fractured pieces of one broken whole
I've held on, held out for her, yet she's all but forgotten me
And I'll never let go, because that tormented, splintered heart inside of her is a piece of me that she stole
So I'll pray, plead, console, call out to her, for without her acknowledgement of herself, we'll never be one again; we will never be free
Alexsandra Danae Jun 2013
Standing, soaked, out in a storm, gusts of wind whipping my hair around wildly
Unruly strands sway with the song of chaos, pulling at my scalp, snapping, lashing at my face
My existence is all reality as this whirlwind tempest frantically thrashes about my flesh
In the complex puzzles and foolish games, a simple madness lives, and therein lies my freedom

My tongue and lips sometimes flap boisterously from their spot on my face
And the noises risen up from my throat, and passed through my mouth are meaningless blubberings
Involuntarily, I grin, tasting the nonsense's unique sweetness, and I swallow
My laughter rings out, a vociferous and untameable sound; humor, the voice of a crazy woman

And I spin! Oh, I spin and spin and spin, savagely, in ellipses, ovals, and circle shapes
I've no shame, and this dance is all mine, so I maniacally fling my arms through the air
And as my body makes its revolutions, a fierce smile curves the shape of my lips, wrinkles the corners of my eyes
Inside my mind, wandering - wondering if there's any real difference between elated insanity and that which I crave...

Most people use words such as eccentric, strange, whimsical, and peculiar for what they cannot understand
So very often I hear these such words being used from those who speak of me
But it is them whom I perceive as being rather off, so habitual and boring, living like routine enslaved, joyless zombies
So unfathomable to me, why most everyone seems to desire nothing beyond a passionless, hollow schedule to, every day, just repeat

Me... I'll race barefoot down a gravel path, through lightning, thunder, and rain, only to feel my hair being twisted and tangled up in the wind
I'll jabber absurdities, laugh like a loon, all while I spin contentedly around and around, until, stupidly dizzy, I crash and fall
Madness pays little mind, stands without worries or concerns, because it believes - it knows, most nothing matters
This is my freedom, freedom that cannot be shared, for what it is, is something that's only freeing for me...

               ~A. D. Smithson   MARCH 2013
Jun 2013 · 481
Change & Release
Alexsandra Danae Jun 2013
Freedom from our selfishness
Past behaviors, dead
Butterflies shed of cocoons
Feb 2013 · 549
Blood
Alexsandra Danae Feb 2013
There's blood on my hand
That same "**** spot"
It won't go away
I will get caught

There's blood on my face
Shame to wash it away
But I mustn't lose my composure
The spot, though lovely, cannot stay

There's blood on my chest
I can't seem to find how to remove it
I do so like it, just where it is
But there'd be many of those who'd pitch a fit

There's blood upon my feet
I must find the way to make them clean
Not at all because I mind
Because blood ought not be something casually seen

The blood, it's stretched itself to be everywhere
With that savory, metallic scent
Sweet and salty, this crimson, tacky blood
And I'm the keeper of the secret; what this has all meant

O these slashes of blood, the drying puddles, brimmed with love
The power that is the grip of life
Shed now in a glorious display of our purest contempt
Flesh weeping after the stabbing, mangling by a bladed knife

The blood has painted me
Always shall it be there
No amount of scrubbing could wash these marks away
Scent eternal, lingering in the air

This bloods borne a stain on my soul
Death a companion who'll never be far
I'll hold hands and walk with it
To hell's blackest star
Feb 2013 · 490
Like a Black Sun
Alexsandra Danae Feb 2013
My mind is circling
my brain aches
all I crave is love
but at a touch I break
there can be no love
when emotions are impossible
outside of your own control
so I let chances slip on by
weakening, saddened through to my soul
as a child I bore composure
but now I have none
it was stripped away from me
leaving my heart cold; cold as a black sun
my life, my world so foggy and dark
hurting silently deep, deep inside
all I wish, someone to love, to caress
though I can't stop myself
from running, every time, to hide
there is one I could blame;
make my misery belong to him
he broke me;
wronged and defiled me
but what of myself,
my own inner faith and strength?
buried too well to exist,
or just too covered to see?
there's a high chance that I
do possess it within myself somewhere
but to seek it, my lack of courage
begs me not to even try
it may hurt but its easier
to keep it bottled up
yet I must persevere, or I'll never
find freedom;
I'd miss my chance to fly...
Feb 2013 · 683
Digging My Ditch
Alexsandra Danae Feb 2013
I think that you loathe me; wish curses upon my head
I can hear you now as you scream your obscenities to my name
Just because you know I can see you twitch and squirm
I'm waiting to witness the end of your doomed survival game

I may quite likely live on awhile longer
Still kicking and running while you sink and die
This brings me a power I can't help but to hold over you
There's not a thing I could do though, and my words are without lies

It was the divine creator who made you exist as my underlying *****
And I've no responsibility for my superior advantage
Never though, would you be capable of maintaining the tiniest semblance of control over me
Perhaps it's due to my choice made some days ago, and because I have been digging my ditch...?

I see no reason I shouldn't insist on finding enjoyment in all of this
For once I'm not the weaker being, and it's a long-standing dream coming true
Nor have I forgotten your fleeting moment of success, and feel peace knowing you'll never have another chance to hurt me ever again
Now a toast to my victory, and a toast to your demise, for we're arrived at the precise time for the ending of stage blue...

...I win by my perseverance's sweat, for I did as I was instructed to, and spent the necessary years required digging my own ditch...
Feb 2013 · 800
Simply Words
Alexsandra Danae Feb 2013
We write the most beautiful things
and then, so abrupt is time, we end; pass on
after our deaths, we're dead and forgotten
unacknowledged, unmissed; just simply gone
every one of us lives this life with the need to be loved
each of us goes through life craving to feel as though we're needed
so we can write our lovely sentences
but it's worthless, for we can't escape our fate, and in the end we'll still die
the beings we were to become, no more than mere ashes in the wind
not worth even whispers to carry on our memories
so hurt thus fell these, our flowing words
our hearts consumed with bitterness; grey
years will continue to pass, none will visit our graves
our pages, our legacies shall sink; take solace with us in the ground
so we mourn now, thou still alive; oh how we sit, sit and cry
we don't really make sense
for why wouldn't we be loved by another when we for another can ourselves love?
perhaps unconscious self-contempt leaves us craving to feel neglect for our return
or perhaps we're just so terrified of being broken
we use our fears, rejections, anger and abandonments to write our most magnificent verses
why punish ourselves so, when time will still in the end overbear, and we'll all eventually perish?
oh, the merest of acknowledgments to such notions may as well rip our hearts from our chests
we may have fled truth, begging, pleading as we birth rivers of our blood, sweat and miserable tears
all alone then, without another soul in sight to wander with us while we roam deaths rocky beaches
So it's all of us who are broken, after all...
Nov 2011 · 908
His Beautiful Daughter
Alexsandra Danae Nov 2011
I fear it from an inside
My lips ~ refusal to move
Seeking fervently, shadows to conceal
   my existence; to hide
Drowning; morbid dying in the
   sorrowed soul's tears
Scavenging for my god
Digging for redemption, for salvation
Questioning my faith

I'm told, once again, to believe
That, only then, there will be a
   hope in which to receive

He calls out to me
Audible to my ears
His beckoning reaches to even my
   recesses darkest and deep

I'm washed away in a flood
Self-inflicted, torturous death
Fading
Then the whisper
'Go back to sleep'
Still, my weary mind rambles onward
Shattering into puzzle pieces
The artistic portrayal of who I
   truly am
Though, I find no one who could
   reconnect those pieces to again
    build ~ again create, a whole
So, I am broken, shattered, crumbling
   on a downward spiral

Yet again, He beckons
Calling out my very own name
"Oh Beautiful Daughter,
"I see not, your sins."

I fall to my knees
Utmost gratitude conceived
Though I remain too afraid to believe
I trust Him; words flawless to
   every form of life
It's, alone, myself I cannot face
My mirror's as shattered as my soul
Those weak, disgracing, foul steps
   I daily take
As I trudge down my chosen life
   path of misery
A path to spawn animosity, contempt,
   bitterness throughout
Victimization

And nevertheless, He follows
Offering continually His hand
The Divine Hand

I shutter at such a notion!
Oh! How I don't deserve!
My broken puzzle has cracked
   open my mask
Lies to be uncovered ~ lies of mine
Revealed by my subconscious' truths

I collapse to the earth
Piercing my body with stones
   and thorns
Pierced flesh, it bleeds
As was once shed upon a cross

Stop my feet now, please! Oh, stop me!
I'm running... running away
The light, so beautiful, so pure
I, a stain, to be cleansed; washed away

His voice, so powerful, yet gentle
   and loving
A child's perception of her father's
   tones
And now, a message He declares
   unto this mortal me
"Quit your resisting,
"Oh Beautiful Daughter of Mine
"It was for your sake I created
   the light of day
"Come now, My child
"I've spoken, and you are worthy
"Bathe yourself in the oceans of
   My grace's eternal waters"

My shattered fragments arise
Fitting together a work of art
   too undefinable to speak of
In this new found light of grace, I bawl
In new tears, I rejoice
I have felt my Maker's unconditional love; His grace
I've been possessed by His showering of love
Nov 2011 · 847
blinking
Alexsandra Danae Nov 2011
a soft, slow-motion like blink.......
eye lids, heavy, pulling down
then, now, raising back up
open... close... opening again
lashes gently, briefly collide; brushing
nearly inaudible whisper of sound
Nov 2011 · 431
sunshine gone
Alexsandra Danae Nov 2011
shivering
it's so cold
where has
the sunshine gone?
it's dark
and I'm
alone.
Oct 2011 · 720
Don't Bother Listening
Alexsandra Danae Oct 2011
Words, phrases, exclamations...
great efforts to birth well-articulated strings
sentences, paragraphs going nowhere
just evaporating into the air
- after their pleading, violent spewing forth!
mad workings of mouths and lips, of tongues
raging torrents of language
worthless, pointless, meaningless...
one could say anything -
say everything!
enunciate; flowing, eloquent
or ranted, rambled
lightning-speed creation: disastrous!
no matter to be coherent -
to be nonsensical
speech is of absolutely no value;
devoid of all worth
perfectly useless, audible abyss...

So I'm finished and ******* surrender
it's been a journey traveled far too long
hope has long been departed and gone
painfully overdue, it's undeniably time
-So I'll shut my ******* blabbering, jibbering jaws
and I'll do it RIGHT NOW!
Oct 2011 · 659
I Am Who I Am
Alexsandra Danae Oct 2011
BURN me, HATE me
You cannot defeat me
I am who I am
And you cannot change that

ACCUSE me, TWIST me
You cannot shape me
I am who I am
And you're no part of that

BEAT me, TORTURE me
You cannot hurt me
I am who I am
And you cannot break that

**** me, **** me
You cannot burden me
I am who I am
And I am NOT part of you

FLOCK me, **** me
You cannot bury me
I am who I am
Steadfast, in life and death alike
Oct 2011 · 690
Nothing Left to Find...?
Alexsandra Danae Oct 2011
THIS icy cold water sort of, almost helps
but my throat is still thick, hot, and dry
caked and clogged, choking on nicotine phlegm
and oh God, how I long to just be high...

MY skull's a million pounds; head, so heavy
suffocated with thoughts, swarming, squirming, zipping around
my consciousness' holding capacity is entirely used up, one-hundred-ten percent spent
it's matter-less though, as I've nothing left waiting out there to be found...

CRACKLING, pop-popping~ there's a ringing in my ears
and I'm nauseous, my stomach aches and aches
I can feel my face, squished and crying, though I haven't any tears
my spirit feels on the verge of a complete and massive break...

I"M overwhelmed and broken~ too much, the physical hurting
I'm psychotic, shattered and scattered~ ugly emotional and mental pains
what if I'm destined to never find a cure that would make this sickness end?
and what if I can't, either, find a way to save the little left in me that's sane...?

HOW can this filth and destruction only be seen through my eyes?
perhaps I'm delusional beyond reason, perhaps nowhere, only inside my head?
am I possessed of an illness, hideous and wicked, hiding deep inside my soul?
should I relinquish this breathing now; maybe just be better off dead...???

OR maybe I should merely write another of my nonsensical, depressing poems?
in a fantasy world where there's truth to the notion that words can heal diseases such as mine
is there any purpose or point? - do I even have any strength to hold on to a fragment, so delicate, of hope?
how sure, how certain can I be, that, in my continuance of life, the days will always pass with, still, nothing left for me to find.......???
Oct 2011 · 654
The Old Man Told Me
Alexsandra Danae Oct 2011
SUCH an ancient wisdom radiating from HIS words
chiming through each syllable this wise, OLD MAN spoke
granting me visions beyond the obvious of my world
a time to uncover comprehensions that have not yet awoke...

KISS the man - the boy, then rip out his beating heart
eat his pulsating ***** as it fades, as it pumps, dripping its final blood
savor the sensation of terminated life gushing through your red, sticky fingers
watch his flesh, sprawled on the floor, die in its own flood

THE OLD MAN knew - HE could see through to the true me
though I had never encountered HIM in this life before
HE told me to, "**** the man, free, and
"Repent of all the years spent wallowing in monstrosities and sin..."

"LOVE the man before you rip out his heart
"Bite by bite, be nourished as he dies in hell
"feel his life-blood smearing on your face, dripping off your chin..."
all of this the guidance, all the OLD MAN had to tell

THE OLD MAN whisper-spoke with a cracked, arid voice
crowned tones birthed of a knowledge, a wisdom, the man never possessed
for all of this, I have cried, but now I am done
the OLD MAN, to me, also said, "now to be blessed..."

I'LL kiss the man, then, heartlessly tear out his heart
I shall shred it, destroy it, spit as I throw it to the floor
****** spatterings, glistening red, surround me
and it is by this end, le fin, that I'll reach out and grasp the **** of my new door

OR so the OLD MAN told me...
Oct 2011 · 513
hands & eyes
Alexsandra Danae Oct 2011
for** many years
I have dwelled
as a prisoner of
my own mind
constructing a realm
meant only to
possess nothing, but
my impenetrable cage
I was just
so very afraid
I hid myself
hid myself away
away from the
world that I
could have known
perhaps, the world
I should have
should have known...

forever to remain
camouflaged by the
by the dark
in shadows, deep
hidden from others
kept from the
the sunshine's light
kneeling in a
dark corner while
while I weep
...my rolling river's
pained, murky waters...

it was only
only no one
no one, but
myself and my
own heedless fears
I, a captive???
restrained and
tortured, tormented
by a being who
shows their face
a familiar face
every time I
I look into
her empty eyes
as they gaze
through abandoned,
forsaken abyss
into my own
where I stand
peering into my
my destructive mirror...

my innocence has
has been stolen
was ripped away
by the hand
the hand that
belongs to me
thrown into this
this strangling cage
this awful dungeon
a captive soul
made slave to
my very own
inner, quivering doubt
forced to wallow
in eternal blackness
just as one
one miserable, exhausted
sad and dying
one dying fool
... solely self-
-created void...

[ a prisoner who
who resides within
cold prison walls
in another's cell
that was made
built up around
the ground where
their feet, first, stood
fervently constructed
with very, very
very powerful
efficient hands... ]

eventually she'll meet
her cold death-bed
life's breath, wasted
wasted, worthlessly away
cruelty in her demise
the conclusion her
her own hands wrought
meticulously designed
her own personal
damnation portal
and just as her
world while living
she'd conquered nothing
nothing, but her
her dark, lonely tomb
airless wasteland
of timeless death...
Oct 2011 · 443
She Says
Alexsandra Danae Oct 2011
SHE SAYS** I have an old soul
But I feel so young and vulnerable inside
I'm lost, weak, and very naive
All I want now is to run, to hide...

SHE SAYS I possess great faith
Why then, do I doubt within?
I feel less faith in me with the passing of each day
The hole filling up with regret and sin

SHE SAYS I'm just so intelligent
Yet I'm truly lost and confused
Just a child, broken and bent
My soul already torn up and used

SHE SAYS I'm so inspiring
How could that ever actually be?
I've surrendered to the misery paralyzing my body, my mind
So how could anyone- how could she learn from me?

SHE SAYS I will be wanted, loved
But all I've known is my own self-contempt
No one could love such a foul, loathsome creature
My future holds only a deep hate to tempt...

SHE SAYS I will thrive, that I will be great
How shall that happen since I've already given up on my dreams?
My death shall arrive with naught accomplished
Or at least presently, that's how it would seem...

SHE SAYS, again and again, I have an old soul
Tell me then, what does my soul know? What has it learned?
Is it truly worth the suffering for me to continue on?
Or will I find my fate to be a girl left abandoned and burned?
                                                         ­        .................................................................­
Oct 2011 · 718
Portrait of a Metaphor
Alexsandra Danae Oct 2011
Hear her screaming
       paint brushes
       of sound
       an art form
       of echoing fear

                     Feel her heart
                     in her chest
                     it pounds

              And her breath
              rushed, but hollow
              can also be
              found

    Move with the
    softly thundering
    whispers
    of her feet
    running down the
    path, smeared red

                     A metaphorical
                     twine of story
                     is coming
                           Unwound...
Oct 2011 · 997
Cradled in His Arms
Alexsandra Danae Oct 2011
CAPITULATE YOUR VILE EFFORTS to tempt and grasp hold of me
my eyes have been opened, and you have lost your control
you're no longer able to sneak up and confuse me
I've been granted a repossession of all that you stole ~ ~ ~

I'VE RELINQUISHED MY REFUSALS, and am now His beautiful daughter!
I surrendered and He said I am His sunshine!
I am His princess for every moment of eternity!
I am His alone, and you have been left far, far behind ~ ~ ~

GONE ARE YOUR POWERS to imprison me here
His glory has left you pitifully, hopelessly weak
He holds me, lovingly cradled in His strong arms
and vainly sought shall be all your further efforts to seek ~ ~ ~

HIS GRACE HAS REMOVED my shackles and unlocked my chains
so oh no, never again, shall I be a demon's captive
He holds a key for every lock you might use to bind
and His desire is for my soul's freedom to live! ~ ~ ~

GRATITUDE'S TEARS RAIN from my eyes as I fly in His realm
my burdens, my deep, piercing pain, my misery - He has thrown them all away
His light has overflowed me and I know only the purest peace
I have been washed of my darkness and with Him I shall stay! ~ ~ ~

HE KNOWS ME! He loves me! He wants me! He has forgiven me!
with unconditional love, He has wiped the stains from my face
I, merely a sinful, repulsive wretch and He has cleansed me!
so wholly undeserving, I am in awe of the miracle of His endless grace! ~ ~ ~

OH! HOW I MUST forever thank Him and serve Him!
I shall worship Him as I live and breathe; as I play, run, sing and dance!
I am His child and shall take refuge in His perfect embrace
so you may as well forsake your games, because, for winning, you have not a minute chance...! ~ ~ ~

       ~~ I am HIS! ~~
Oct 2011 · 800
A Zombie's Laughter
Alexsandra Danae Oct 2011
ANSWERLESS RIDDLES are mating with my squirmish thoughts
they swirl and ferment inside my skull; pulsating neurons in my head
I feel it before I hear it, as the laughter bubbles up from within me
but there is nothing to find amusing, and my hope lay dying, now dead ~ ~ ~
the last of the cords holding together my sanity are frayed and slipping quickly
I am helpless to restring them alone, so far beyond my arm's reach
I can sense this rushing of maniacal laughter building up within me again
and then my fear seems to dissapate as my mind travels to lands with too strange a concept to teach ~ ~ ~
in years gone by, perhaps I have known traumatizing troubles too intimately
maybe I have allowed myself to, continuously, keep detouring from a wholeness I possessed once before
this sound escaping my strained lips right here and now is speaking of a new, different story
oh thief!! sanity has become a stolen piece, and not again shall it ever reside in me, no, nevermore ~ ~ ~
I am, and yet, I see nothing, save for some undescribable, disturbing chaotical nonsense before me
failure... I cannot create any sense or light to manuever these biting, foreign seams
I cannot help but to question whether any true relevance will ever actually be found here
this laughter just, unfaulteringly, sings itself to and from anywhere - even in my resting dreams ~ ~ ~
this sudden, burning desire fills me, and I think I'll cut myself loose, allow myself to go now
I'll float on down this hideously contorting river of giggling screams that I've dreaded to face
yet all such fears have begun to fade as my undeniably worthless grasp is slowly released
destined in time for me to reside, here is a numbing, emotionless, vile and heartless place ~ ~ ~
I cannot hault this shrieking laughter that bursts forth, exploding from my lungs
yet, I feel blank, so somehow this, and all else too! - has found its path to indifference here
my few, meager joys may have run away, escaping along with my misery and sorrows then
I have grown numb, become spiritually void, thus, I feel none of this, and I've no worries, despite my sanity's departure (forever disappeared...) ~ ~ ~
Death's threatening gaze carries no weight in an existance which lies always so lifeless as this
already, I've relinquished myself to surviving as no more than a zombie, a vacant shell, chained and bound in a permanent, deep and impenetrable trance
I once clutched an empty chalice to fill the hole from whence my inner peace had, long before, fled
abandoned then, abandoned again, my only company fated to be the humorless laughter that comes flooding from my open mouth and leaves me a twitching death-maiden, bound to a passionless, eternal dance ~ ~ ~
but none of it matters, oh, not in the least, minute way, oh no no, not anymore
I haven't even the faintest hint, nor trace of awareness remaning for me to care
here, there isn't a god, there is not a satan or devil - no heaven, nor hell, nothing to inspire your soul
AND IT IS HERE, to this place, we shall all eventually belong, and together spend eternity, with naught but expressionless stares... ~~~
Oct 2011 · 631
While I Reach for Him
Alexsandra Danae Oct 2011
I am an ocean
fierce and untamed
a powerful beauty
unburdened by shame

I am unbounded
exquisite and free
an unstoppable force
unchained; let be

I am a hurricane
wild and unrestrained
a compelling storm
untainted by pains

Because I am a miracle!
Oh! Mercy and grace!
a taste of freedom...
now undaunted in this place!

                                               *Written June 2010
Oct 2011 · 1.4k
Silent Storm (John's Poem)
Alexsandra Danae Oct 2011
"LOOK!" So quietly you choose to speak...
I hear the sweet vibrations of your voice
my eyes lift to search a dark night sky
and you say, "There! Did you see?"
miles distant, shadowy light flashes
flickering over the mountain shades
lightning slicing through that atmosphere
and I answer you, "Yes.
"I wish that the thunderstorm was here."
you respond with your enigmatic silence
yet still I strain my ears
hoping to somehow maybe hear something from inside of you
even just a faded echo of your unshared thoughts
because you are my deepest desire
it's you alone that I most desperately crave
I'd sacrifice everything I have in this life for you
for only just a fleeting moment, I would
a moment in which you were solely mine,
worth more than I could ever have to give
my very soul cries out, agonizing, for you
my heart begs for your love to fuel it's own love
my flesh, my bones and blood burn to feel the warmth of your embrace
my lips quiver at only a thought of brushing against yours
my entire being tingles and aches to find solace in your affections
I'd rip my very soul from my deepest depths and place it in your hands
my heart I'd also eagerly tear right out of my chest
my promise, my solemn vow I'd gift with my bleeding wounds
never would I- could I, forsake you
if I could keep you, keep you, I would, indeed
a treasure I'd never relinquish willingly
passion, grace, unconditional love, yours forever and free
A picture of these, my most fervent of prayers and dreams...
split- second bursts of color and light
electricity, a bringer, a conveyor of destruction,
birthing fires in the brush and trees, and, mocking, denying me my love...
in that far away storm, a creeping portrayal; image, stretching wide:
I see a vision of your cherished face
I feel unbearable, disabling pains commencing
there's unfathomable sorrow, misery within me
I realize my heart is about to crack, break, shatter to dust and ash
no mind to how great and vast my love for you
no heed to my willingness to give up everything; anything
I glimpse it all in that fraction of a second
those stars; twinkling eyes, tell me an entire story, at the speed of light...:
so unfortunate, that you won't be mine now,
never else either, shall you ever belong to me
my gaze is drawn away, and departs from the place where the mysterious and celestial dwell
relinquish their view of power unleashed, blinking far off, in the sky above
I turn my head; swivel towards you,
for dire, is my need to take in every aspect of your beloved face...
maybe I'd misunderstood; maybe I'd been mistaken,
maybe a bit tired, rather easily confused,
or perhaps, it was a lie that the lightning storm's vision, sly and sneaking, portrayed...
but I can see the tangible, physical you, before me right now,
and, the truth - - -
(which I cannot positively know, for certain,
perplexed and having some doubts...)
- - - an obvious, unpleasant, ugly reality...
my tears have already begun brimming, as I watch, through a blurred void,
and prepare, because that mouth of yours is, once again, opening to speak
a bullet, slivers, pierce through to my soul when I hear you softly utter my name
"Alex, what's wrong? What is your problem now?"
how can you be so oblivious, as I feel so transparent? I ask,
but only to myself; not in such a way for you to actually hear me,
giving you, instead, yet another of my head shakes; slow, speechless reply...
I'm broken, and it's painful when you look at me,
what if you were to notive the sadness and hungry longing buried within my eyes?
please, please don't you look at me!
all of your questions, I'm incapable of answering,
never could I openly share with you how I so intensely feel
my fear of rejection has given me an answer in your stead
and, thus, this love shall go on only inside of me, in silence, secretly
despair, loneliness, burdens so heavy; wicked,
thick enough to rot me inside-out...
torn down, destroyed by love; my very own love - - -
(mine, a love undescribable... immense, immeasreable love;
love which was borne of my seeking indifference, but finding you...)
- - - until my savior of death comes,
will be working diligently to ******, slowly and bitterly, my life force
and impatiently, I'll live out the remainder of my days waiting and suffering;
looking forward to the moment when my black-robed executor shall, at long last, come,
and set me free of these suffocating bindings scarring, straining my heart...
for without you to hold, I am empty and lack purpose
I've no other hope on which to let the weight of my hurt bear
still hoping, inanely, for some unforseeable chance;
a growth of buds sprouting forth from the blooms of God's grace...
"Alex...?" oh, the way you say my name...!
"Say it if you have something to say!"
but still, once again, I say nothing at all,
just give another of my small, weak, neck-twist type of shakes;
a minuscule gesture that gets neither of us closer to anything, or anywhere...
I wipe away, quickly, a single tear that's escaped to leak down my face; slide down my cheek
you are the happiness of my world; my everything,
and yet, here I am, excruciatingly frightened, and left alone with that fear
paralyzing terror, stalking, menacing me into remaining silent;
horrors feeding my tentative heart cruel and brusing, nasty notions,
convincing me it's my destiny to uncover a crushing ruin of defeat, unavoidable,
if ever I was to make an effort to reach out
pitiable... I'm a motionless, frozen captive to its stagnating, discouraging taunts,
a demon, so intent upon pushing me to my hope's final demise...
until then, I'm just some pathetic subject to ludacrous torment; prisoner to torture
shuttering, I hear gleeful whispers in my ear - a surreal voice saying that all my fears could,
maybe, just possibly, maybe, be a confining falsehood; a tower of cruel lies...
...but then again, how could I ever find out and know for sure...?
condemned I am, by my own terrors; haunting fears of loneliness and rejection,
and so, I suppose, I'll never discover what you truly think and feel...
as I sit here, the passenger in your car, I'm so desperately wishing,
~ wishing that my lips and tongue could remember how they used to work;
~ wishing, so fervently, that my mouth, sewed, cemented, and stapled shut,
would somehow break itself open, and then, free, suddenly speak,
something! anything! any words at all!
a simple sentence could potentially be sufficient; could be enough to break these chains, to set my thoughts free...
perhaps, all it would take, language - me, bringing myself to fearlessly say,
"John, do you think you could ever love me?"
but no, I stay void of speech or sound
for now that's it, and there's no more to do - that I can do...
maybe the strength to ask will arrive on another, different day,
only, I hope, that if that could be true, it won't be too far off from now,
because, by then, it may have gotten to be too late...
SILENTLY, secretly, my very pulse screaming of my emotions;
declaring, to no one other than myself, my feelings, my love for you...
and without my vocalization, you just may never know,
but still, sweet man, my beautiful John, I so very greatly love, love, love,
everything about you...
Oct 2011 · 625
human & weak
Alexsandra Danae Oct 2011
hand on the smeary glass pane,
staring out this window ~
separating me;
refusing me my right to freedom...
the sun shimmers, golden,
like a bright, hot, cruel joke
I feel my pulse racing;
chest tight with anxiety, despair
these butterflies squirming in my gut,
making me nauseous...
I cannot have what I most want;
that which I most painfully need
- denied what my heart so desperately craves ~
shivering, sobbing in cold anguish;
spirit shrieking in piercing agony...
soundlessly, I plead for time to sew up my wounds
- I don't know how much longer I can stand to watch them bleed:
just oozing forth from my desecrated insides,
as if my soul is slowly being drained...

Lord, I beg of you,
help me overcome this plight ~
alone, I'll never find enough strength;
unable to rid myself of this grief,
powerless to shed this burden, this weight,
and all my life's joy would be lost ~
just wasted, neglected, thrown away...
so please, lift me, carry me,
for I am only human
- and I am so very weak,
so very weak...
Oct 2011 · 1.7k
Storm Slave
Alexsandra Danae Oct 2011
lightning, thunder
pummeling droplets of rain
vicious, forceful hurricane winds
sweeping, spinning
swept violently away
whipping, ******
dragging me
a helpless rag doll
tugging me around
- by my ravaged soul
dizziness, nausea
fractional-seconds, flashes of light
circling; bewilderment
world rushing past
lost in this predicament
having been carried away
...so far away...
prisoner of this whirlwind
fearsome, raging tempest
powerful and raw
merciless desecration
mindless murdering of innocence
inescapable prison walls
captive of this sociopathic entity
hopelessly enslaved
****** and over-burdened
foul irony, my fate
- my only companion
pressing, constant reminder:
I AM TO BLAME...
chained to my own
passionless, encroaching storm -
this loathsome,
jerking, twisting, spasm-wracked,
hurricane monster
a destroyer -
- my destroyer!
the homicidal destroyer,
that I have made...
I am, my own, storm slave...
Oct 2011 · 830
Stupid, Stupid Girl
Alexsandra Danae Oct 2011
STINGING* twinges of bitterness,
and pale shades of hurting,
pang inside my chest;
throb within my center-most core...
I've been skinned, ripped raw,
by love's unrequited grief ~ ~ ~
I can't *NOT
hear the raging voices -
those that are bellowing, screaming,
bouncing about, their echoing words;
accusations, deep inside my brain...
misery-bearing voices, incessantly asking,
asking their intrusive, probing questions,
and demanding that I see;
that I recognize the truth,
the truth behind my suffering...

                     (THE voices speak...)
"are you ******* stupid??? -
as well as beyond any and all hope insane???
it's forever the same!!!
an unavoidable occurrence!!!
the outcome destined to never change!!!
but somehow, this is where you've come,
the grounds upon which you've landed,
once more, yet again, despite!
thus, it is held in your own hands,
the significant bulk of the blame lies... ~ ~ ~
"your unwillingness to relinquish,
your loathsome, hoping dreams,
pleading vainly on for a change of results,
while ignoring, forcing into hiding,
how well aware you are,
deep inside of yourself,
that all that will be, shall be the same;
precisely identical,
to each of those times gone before -
exactly matching, the consequences,
eventually to arrive...
shameful, your stubborn, fierce determination,
so encumbering, powerful, so strong -
you fought, knocking down your knowledge,
and your own inner truths!
an utter foolishness -
foolish and ludicrous, the denial;
the denying of that which you should,
instead, be all too closely acquainted with...
refusal to acknowledge the power that is,
in this, contained, and ought not,
without dire repercussions,
be lightly ignored or denied ~ ~ ~
"strange, it's so vastly idiotic,
and now, the pitiful disgrace that is-
-is you; what you've allowed;
permitted yourself to become,
just for the sake of that-
-that nonsensical, ugly emotion;
the feeling which you call 'love'..."

I'D watched while, my misguided,
rebellious self, went sneaking -
crept up to the forbidden door within-
-within herself, and,
ever so quietly,
reached for the lock to unlatch,
then saw as it was freed,
swinging slowly, silently open... ~ ~ ~
this door, that I've been taught,
in a past chapter of life, years ago...,
to be a passage far better left and ignored;
one better kept shut up and locked tight ~ ~ ~
but this door, so irresistible -
...one I've forced myself to learn of,
yet repeatedly, purposefully,
have allowed myself to forget, and,
indubitably, come to be reminded of,
after a time, incessantly over and,
then over still, again and again...
I brought in pain and animosity,
and they've found a realm to reign here ~ ~ ~
how sickening, that through fault,
that it's all only mine,
and mine, alone, to conquer;
to settle this, my creation,
this that is, my current fight...
so oh yes, regretfully, but true,
I must be stupid,
stupid indeed -
- just a stupid,
stupid little girl... ~ ~ ~

— The End —