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Alyanne Cooper Sep 2015
A silent room's embrace,
Cast in neither darkness nor light,
The only thing of note
Is the bass drum thump
Of a heartbeat.

Two worlds collided and this its aftermath.
Numbly watching the swirling chaos
Through glazed dilated eyes.

The demons of the past haunt
Like parasites in the blood.
Can't live with them,
But no longer can we live without them.  
Every action and reaction made with this in view.
To guard and protect the innocent
From a hell they were never supposed to know.

Hate us for who we were,
For who we are,
For who we will always be.

But do not hate us for separating ourselves
So as to spare you, the innocent and naïve,
From the horrors and hell
That now call our souls home.

This was never meant for you.
Alyanne Cooper Aug 2015
We stand alone so often in the world.
Under the midday sun,
Under the cloudy full moon.
With strangers and loved ones surrounding
And yet still on our own.

I think that's what I miss most about you.
See, you were the rare thing,
The elusive dream,
My best friend who made me feel
Less alone.

We would talk from sun up to sun down
And then through the night
About anything and everything,
Our blessings and our plights.
And I knew with every word that we breathed
That I could trust you.

And that feeling of having someone
We can trust,
Someone who's always got our backs,
Someone with whom there's no hesitation,
Isn't that feeling what we all want most?

I had it
With you.
And I'll always be thankful
Even though I lost it.

I just hope that one day
There'll be someone else
Who makes me feel
A little less alone,
Like you.
But not like you.
Because next time
I'll make sure to do
What I never did with you,
I'll make sure we're on the same page,
And that we want the same things.
I'll make sure that
That someone
Isn't just someone
Who makes me feel less alone,
But also that I am someone
They can trust
With each passing word
And thus they too would feel
A little less alone.
Alyanne Cooper Aug 2015
My great grandma used to say
"Child, life is what you make it to be."
Those words should be framed
And kept alongside me.

She was a bashful violet
Amid a profusion of wild roses.
Hot tempered Irish
Who never stuck up her nose
At anything.

Though she had her faults--
Could hold the longest, meanest grudge--
But at the end of her day,
She never regret
Because she knew
Life is what she made it to be.

I probably could learn a thing or two from her.
Alyanne Cooper Aug 2015
They say time slows down
The closer you get to the speed of light.
I must be flying through space
Leaving a trail of blaze
Streaking through the sky
On this midnight train
Called Insomnia
Because these last few seconds
Felt a hell of a lot longer
Than all of last year.
Alyanne Cooper Aug 2015
I will gladly get ******

Stand as guardian and protectress
With sword and shield in hand
Readied to hew heads from bodies
Without batting an eye,

I will gladly get ******

Sear away with every ****
The humanity in my soul
So no one else need be soulless

I will gladly get ******

Rush the battlefield
In berserker fashion
Taking no prisoners,
Sparing no breaths,
Not even mine,

I will gladly get ******

If it means I keep them safe
In body and soul,
In life and limb,
In thought and future

I will gladly get ******
If it keeps them away from you.

YOU were supposed to bear this role

But you bore us
Only to abandon us.

So now we take up the mantle,
We must protect
Our sisters, our family, our self,

From you.
Alyanne Cooper Aug 2015
You didn't even recognize
Your own ******* daughter.

After
Seven years of absence.
Seven years of change.
Seven years of silence.
Seven years of growing up without you.

And you write a ******* email
To reiterate how good life is
Now that you've abandoned your family
To pursue the life you felt
We kept you from?
Never asking how your daughter is.
Never asking if the child she held in her arms
Was your grandbaby, your ******* flesh and blood.
Never asking a single question
That would focus any shred of attention
On anyone but you.

What. The. Hell?

Sometimes the universe is gracious
And answers our theoretical questions.
Mine had been "What would you say to me?
What would you think of the woman I've become?"

Now I know the answer because
Your dead soulless eyes and selfish letter
Say everything for you:

"Frankly, I don't give a ****."

Well, guess what,
Woman-I-will-no-longer-call-Mom,

I don't give a **** about you either.
You're dead to me--just a ghost.
And we all know the truth about ghosts:
They aren't real.
Alyanne Cooper Aug 2015
Red hued water swirls round the drain.
Bloodied hands wash themselves of sin.
Vacant eyes glance briefly in the mirror.
As the once temporary mask grows permanent.

The charade will continue.
The show must go on.
The bright and magicked aural lies persist.
For this is the reality of life.

Every human is an actor.
Every life has its stage.
And there is none willing to consider
Taking a peek behind another's curtain.

Too many acts to follow.
Too many roles to play.
We're all grifters and cheats
Trying to make a way in our worlds

And get everyone else to believe
We belong here as much as the next.

For the broken don't belong.
The wounded and bloodied don't belong.
The scarred and marred don't belong.
Not in a world that prizes symmetry
And wholeness and uniformity.

What is uniform about the bags
That darken our eyes?
What is whole about the scars
That shade our arms?
What is symmetrical about the sad smirks
That crook our cracked lips?

What is prized about our brokenness?

So we play our roles
And we play them well
So no one knows
Our brokenness.

But we do.
For our reality is in the mirror.

The now shattered mirror
Streaked with blood
To match the cuts
New to our fists.
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