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Jan 2014 · 692
empty eyes materialize
Amelia Jo Anne Jan 2014
earthly friction: voice
falters to passionless lack-
luster conviction.
What is simple in the moonlight
by the morning never is.
What's so simple in the moonlight
now it's so complicated.

http://imma-duck.deviantart.com/
Dec 2013 · 1.8k
Exist Contemplate
Amelia Jo Anne Dec 2013
I am alive & just barely;
my throat is closing off
with hard, precious cancer eggs
tucked safely where my tonsils
are supposed to sit.
my fingernails this lovely
shade of purple, a deeply
blueish tint influencing them
almost indigo. They tattle,
silently proclaim my complacent
malnutrition. the moons of my manicure
have sunk backwards, eve
returns to dusk, my favorite
time of day, where the quiet
begins, the candle may be lit,
& the eyes I always feel on me
are at least shadowed from my vision.
the coffee is so black
pulsing through my shrunken veins
that my tears are caffeinated.
even when I don't hold a cigarette,
I see the smoke under my breath.
my hands & feet are always cold,
my muscles tremble & I swoon
when we try to stand strong together.
there is turmoil
constant static
in the fissures of the grey matter.
well? tell me! does it really matter?
my bones ache
my face breaks
oh, this Exist Contemplate.
my government has always
been corrupt; the city walls
are finally wearing, having
borne the onslaught for decade
& decade. oh, the Burn & Blister.

I crawl to my coffin without your permission;
Where are you, my Handsome Benediction?
Dear Baby Love Princess
Nov 2013 · 1.6k
Falling Back Down To Earth
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
forever coded diaries since I found trust lost on her and him. I hate that the only people willing to listen to me are getting paid for it or beside me in purgatory. don't assume I'm being over-dramatic; I'm not saying my wounds hurt the most, but understand me: deal with half the **** I have & then walk a straight line again.

I am the one who dies a little every time I wake up & realize I'm exactly where I laid myself down. I am the one who breathes corrosion, feeds distortion, bathes in corruption. I straddle fences & hem and haw, biting nails & wraps arms around legs to hold self together. I am the one who cares so much I cannot care. I am the one that uses each breath to fuel my obsession with asphyxiation. I am the borders of the spectrum I see the symmetry in opposites, I pause on polarities. the Yes! Sure. Why Not? I am the moment & I wish that I wouldn't have to live in it. I am the lifter, the sorter & sifter of things my parents over looked or over turned.
Quiet hours,
You will always be my wildflower.

"I am the one..." journal entry exercise (edited and partially rewritten later)
Nov 2013 · 1.7k
moth
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
single flame in dark
brighter than one hundred eyes
peering through bushes
Nov 2013 · 855
lust
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
swallow & fill the hollow
place where my soul's face
is supposed to sit. ****
makes me smile, takes
away the belief I can do nothing. today
I am someone. tomorrow I'll buy
****, feel empty, remember your seed
in fondness or regret. my favorite sin.
forgive me or **** me. I take what I can get.
Nov 2013 · 699
sad
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
sad
every stage of this session
this press & decompression
feels unbearable
memory like pond water
hazy copper-toned
recollections of clarity.
this melancholia
is supposed to be an omen,
a sign of tides turning.
resurfacing from depths despicable
yet, they are familiar, recognizable.
the world above
moves overwhelmingly fast
for a shipwreck whose
every sigh is an essay
each blink creates ripple-wave-typhoon-tsunami--
feeling forced,
but too medicated
to crawl back to
that which my fingers twitch for.
bubble: rising to burst?
Nov 2013 · 1.1k
the divine plan
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
marrow is restless
decaying in it's own boredom
swaddled in the uncertain
shells of rigid lifestyles,
determined to hold this meat
husk up, resolute in assuming
its role as the foundation
for a great church (to be laid
down, no words uttered, as her
****** made plain to be the alter,
her pain in providing the fruitful
womb her apparent penitence
for the sin of not being born bearing,
proudly, a ***** to punish with).

marrow is restless
with cells that divide & die off
to continue the straight & narrow
path to marriage, to God, to
righteousness, to be citizens upheld
by morality, that multiply & die off.

marrow is restless
of endless toil
with profits withheld
until returned from whence it came;
ashes to ashes.
restless of the only goal:
to carry itself
from the gates of a mother's legs
into the gates of the Father's arms.

Marrow is restless
of
One purpose One use One end.
of
a son's cannibalism, a spirit's contempt, a father's genocide.
of
only living to please another.
dedicated to he that works in mysterious ways
I keep waiting for you to miraculously ease this pain
Nov 2013 · 1.6k
rebirth
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
I am just this girl sitting recovering after walking in a store where I had to use my passport and looked like a teenage ******* with my sunglasses and father's coat. my eyes were red because of allergies and I cried a little on the walk up and, well, I was high; "shook like a ****** at a wienie roast" as my dad always said. I was standing there and forgot what brand of cigarettes I wanted when I had to repeat myself (I stutter when I'm nervous); I thought I could get away with it if I said 'I just started a new medication' and get the assurance from a cashier whose face I recognized. just someone to give me a boost.

then I went outside to a bench on the side of the building. the traffic and parking lot were in the way, but the clouds and birds around everywhere were brilliant against the bright sky, the trees were magnificent and striking, the sunshine was on my face; I can do this. I am a Tree, reaching lower then growing higher: and I am Magnificent.

The walk before was nauseatic cuz the meds make me dizzy and vomity and of course, I was high. I wear sunglasses to distance me from the people I'm about to see, from all these people that I'm scared of. the wind is bitter and cold, I'm nervous and shaky. I haven't been able to stop playing scenarios out in my head that panic me, a reaction to my active travelling anxiety and the stress of keeping up a conversation with a soft as oatmeal woman who asks me personal questions and is very pleasant to talk to, though kind of doughy.

--my dad came into my room one night. I was having a minor meltdown coming down from the Night of Hate the previous night where I pulled all my eyelashes out and I pulled my hair and I chewed my cheeks apparently, grit my teeth apparently, hit myself hard and hateful. My dad came in to talk to me and I asked him when I knew I should go to a hospital. I cried and I'm honest that I still don't want to be Here, that life is still unbearably grating. I'm just letting it happen I do what I feel like doing to keep me up. I don't tell him that I choked myself with sweater strings a week ago on the living room couch while my spirit mother was in the other room and all the precious ones down the hall asleep. dad sits down on the bed and admits he's "never dealt with this side of things" and rubbed my back while I sobbed. when I calmed down and I was finally wiping the tears away, cleaned up and I was mostly able to breathe again, he got an idea that comes from the most loving heart and his quirky way of cheering me up. when I was a Trouble Child, my dad would take me out and do something with me. just talked to me, paid attention, joked, laughed: he always says when he's like this he always says "I know I can make you laugh" and usually does. so he looked at me that night and said "I know of something to make you smile; a pill that makes you smile Instantly!" I choked, sunshine smile burst and still wiping tears, 'exstacy?' and received my favorite dad laugh, the one when he really finds something perfect. The one I got when E stepped on the coffee I'd accidentally spilled in the hallway, and she said with a voice so full of disgust that I bent over, tears rolling, hands on knees, laughed til it hurt "I stepped on ****". he recovers from the e-joke says "That was quick!" in a voice that loved it. The opinion that deeply approves (when most times he is disappointed, interrupts me, tells me I'm wrong, more like mum than he'll ever see) lifts me up a little: gratification soul--

I sit on the bench and smoke with shaky hands and sunglasses giving me space, people looking at me (iknowthey'relookingatmeiknowitiknowit); I eat two sandwiches. the prescription makes me tremble shake queasy nauseous, now dizzy. I didn't sleep last night because I was too nervous.

I smoke another cigarette and cry a little, less than ten scared tears slide down my cheeks. Another girl slips in and I calm immediately. There is a guy hovering near me with his own cigarette. It feels like he's loitering in my awful day: I don't trust new people. I've noticed he thinks I'm attractive. he finally leaves and I finally drink my coffee that has finally cooled; I can finally leave in a few minutes. I did it. I failed a month ago and my heart broke...This is the first time I've seen so many people since...I did it. I walk home and sob. all I want is you, Handsome.

If the construction worker who was scraping away at the pillar bottom not ten feet away from me, through the entire bench scenario, had come up to me and asked what was wrong, I would have told him "I tried to die a month ago and failed. This is the first time I've been out in public since, and it's really hard."

But I did it.
Nov 2013 · 221
I
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
I
love ******* molly
we roll on the floor; make love.
Us Girls, we swap: fluid.
Nov 2013 · 187
revelations
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
i didn't Real Eyes
i live so many illusions,
the many ways i crawl.
Nov 2013 · 490
wanna be? (well, I Am).
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
just hold me, make me feel like I'm not alone right now; I'm scared. thank you for letting me slip into another girl's shoes for a while (other girls would step up later). I just need the attention & a reason to feel confident like I can do this. 'I like that cocktongue', he smirks & I **** his stranger **** like the cocky girl I want to be.
I need to control.
(I got this all under control)
Nov 2013 · 939
disjointed
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
as the sun filters through the trees & I whip past them, eyes closed but still seeing; flashing kaleidoscope fractals, alternating milliseconds of red & yellow & blacks & white. swirling oval ripples; am I looking up at or down upon the surface? checkerboards & squiggling bubble worms. between the seizure warnings & REM flickers, there is this unblinking eye, staring me down. my dad thinks I'm a seer. I see this cemetery, a church to the left. rolling fields of blueberries redwhiteblacknyellow a white cross, an arrow on the eastern arm. I stare down at my feet in the water. so I'm above the surface then - wait, those aren't my feet; they're much too slender. a close up: the southern corner of the cemetery. I have never been here before. a giant, passionate waterfall healthy forest surrounding it. My dad thinks I've dropped acid. a close up: the church. I have never been here before. how am I seeing this? swirls. ripples. checker boards. puzzle pieces. blueberry hills. trees trees trees churches cemeteries & those long slender white feet.

where the hell am I?
Nov 2013 · 365
I'm with You
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
heartbeats on repeat
rattle photoframes on walls
they match pace with yours
always.
in everything.
Nov 2013 · 569
bruise
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
Scattered thoughts & bricks
of concentrated Otherness pile up
atop the desk. To read is to
escape. To write is to try & form
sentences; collect the puzzle
pieces, holding them each to the light,
sit & consider where they
might fit together.

Happy Sunlight
filters through the glass
& becomes Sad
in the stuffed room.
It stretches out on the floor
& waits until it is finally
time to go to bed.

A painting hangs on the wall
of a woman who is either in pain
or in rapture; there are birds
in her hair (flowing beyond her) &
they hold colored strings gently
tween their beaks: memories of lost
loves, probably, or
something that deep inside,
She will always carry with her.

The aching emptiness
of the room seeps through
the vaguely floral wallpaper
& evaporates into the air,
already heady with it.
I breathe it in, & feel it
reverberate in my lungs, my heart, my
veins, in every pore. my body arcs
in what I suppose is passion.
Nov 2013 · 527
sophia
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
yarn ***** stringing themselves over mountains & oceans, tugging me & reminding me there are people who briefly have said my name & held onto it. It's reassuring to know other people smile that I remember them; wave at cars on busy highways. I still stop to smell the salt air. I still pause at sunrise. I still turn from the cold wind & cover my ears when she yells. Stop in the silence with me; hold my hand and read my life. I want you to have a piece of me, a snapshot of my memories. You are so different from most people. You don't have an aura, just a certain way about you. To be perfectly honest, when you found me reading on the park bench (in between admiring you from beneath my lashes) my heart melted. I wrote your number in my comic book & went home to think about you. You have something in you that made me stop in my tracks. Hold onto that. xo. Sophia.
Nov 2013 · 678
commit?
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
I've always been accused of being greedy
& maybe I am
I've just never felt comfortable
without two things on the go
a meal I don't know how to end
seeming tunnel vision on the picturesque doe
the frolicking, seducer little fawn in my peripherals
in case I need something to tide me over
Totally just found this in my stash... I do not remember writing this, but I have a nasty habit of logging onto DA when I'm drunk, so this may be a product of such a night. Whatever. Enjoy <3
Nov 2013 · 1.2k
overdose
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
one time
I took it farther than expected
(fits of numbness; fury
rattles me & fingers trembling
fumble with straight edge
razors. no bullshitting around)
yeah let's be honest I liked it
when it ran down my leg
in streams so fast & flooding
foot soon an island in the
puddle spreading around.
but the relief & satisfaction
dulled & shifted to panic
when realization struck
that daddy would find me
a burden & find me more ******
than previously suspected;
panic that I'd have
to ask for help.
yes. yes. nononono
Nov 2013 · 244
un vs. real
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
I'm your stupid ******* sweetheart
& I lie in bed
not falling asleep
so I think of you
in between
failing not to think about
how much I want to tear
my skin open
over &
over &
bleed
until the walls are
red for Real
and Not just
In My Head.
this isn't that good, I know.
just frustrated.
Nov 2013 · 666
the scent of yesterday
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
maybe it's just me but the thought of you lately makes me sad. your skin five shades darker than a double-double; you remind me of almonds, hazelnuts, snow and full lips. you've got this little mole about two diagonal inches up from your ****. it's the inward sigh i stifle when i tell you i love you that tells me i don't. when we're in bed, the way you look at me makes me feel like an heiress, a goddess. when you pull on your boxers i see you: a spoiled brat. the way you speak to me makes me feel like i should apologize. i guess i'm looking for someone a little less shallow; when i started sinking i realized you didn't have the depth to understand a shipwreck.
..it's really over, isn't it?

I don't wanna let go.
Nov 2013 · 364
speaking of which..
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
four hundred new macabre tattoos
dance up & down my thigh.
my whole life made up of untruths
it's not necessarily a lie.
and maybe I love you and maybe I don't
I haven't decided yet.
and maybe I'll live and maybe I won't
I'm still trying to grow a set.
forever's forgotten when right now is too much
some things have got to change.
my lover, Yesterday, has the strangest touch
like holding fingers over a flame.
tomorrow's a sigh
today is a burden
living is but a joke.
blink fast, don't cry
nod through the sermon
shut up & light a smoke.
look at me rhyming like I'm big and stuff.
the depressed dr. seuss.
Nov 2013 · 485
i keep hurting you
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
you rewrote the alphabet
as you read me lullabies
you gave me a new way to spell my name
it kills me to have to say goodbye.
I thought you could hold me
& I'm so sorry I misjudged;
I was only thinking of your built, strong arms
& didn't calculate my dead weight.
It's not that you aren't what I want
(or else this wouldn't be so hard)
it's that you aren't what I need
& I realize now that you can't save me.

I'm gonna be my own white knight
find myself in the searing light
step out of my victim's shoes
work through the blackest of blues.
unfortunately,
painfully,
without you.
I've been putting this off
& leading you on.
Nov 2013 · 522
meddle
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
help me help me I need you like the summer rain blood in my veins like the white needs the stain. the hurt needs the heart the pain needs the years I loved you from the start the paranoia needs the fears. I'll sift my tears from the soil throw my guns down, no recoil. I'll rip apart the curtains to let a little light in. my nails grow my hair grows my soul has been stunted. you are blood on my floor & the knock at the door begging me to open up. baby steps are a crawl away, don't want to see another day; I feel I don't have a choice. your arms stifle & embrace me, lift up & maim me; hear the sob in my voice?
My life has slowly been turned upside down & I'm just trying to sort through the mess lately.
Nov 2013 · 466
(censored name)
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
baby baby baby baby
slipping in & out of excess
you're more than just a mystery:
you're another possible me.
the weight of our worlds
rests on sunken shoulders
so pour us a shot
smolder.
teddy bears & vermilion sheets
to pull closer after every bad dream
I wish it were you instead
give up your scarred chest to rest my head.
pass back & forth the needle
to stitch our broken hearts;
trade hurt obscurities obscenities
hope we deserve these new starts.
so keep me in mind
when you lose track of signs.
leave a message or two;
I'll still remember you.
Nov 2013 · 403
Portrait of a Girl(s)
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
a branch is a struggle
every leaf a memory,
each smile a victory.
growth is patience
the winds that blow may bend you
but buds become twigs become branches become limbs:

the trains of thought that are faucets of the Whole;
Trinities' sum is still 1.
Singular & Complete
but controlled, organized,
knotted & divided.
nourish me
Nov 2013 · 1.0k
bullshit
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
'I think you know what you need to do'
he says. Shut the **** up.
You don't know what it's like to live
your whole life
walking on ceilings
then have to adjust when the meds
swivel you upright
feet on new floorboards, eyes on old skies.

It's a little backwards, I know
but I'm so ******* ****
& when everything is spinning,
the way my shade of lipstick smoothly glides
under my cupid's bow & the
shimmying twirl of a mascara wand
give me some sense of control.
mreehhhh
Nov 2013 · 437
Dirty Magdalene
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
I want to lick your feet clean
just so I know where you've been
just so you know I'm aaaaall yours
oh hi jesus
didn't see you there
Nov 2013 · 761
who I live for
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
stare at my unfinished tattoo
hand-sewn heart & letters
stretch the skin & trace the lines
remember who I live for
how proud I am of them
& excited for who they're becoming.

A, now so much like me
but so young, naive, pure & green
came to similar conclusions
when we asked different questions
I didn't know she liked hockey

J, newly enamoured with books
so handsome & ever-increasingly charming
all the ladies (even the older, 'taken' ones)
swoon when he flutters his long lashes
& he blushes with a shy boyish smile

T, my girl. little doppelganger
reincarnation of myself, for better or worse
especially connected always
20 & 5, brunette hair from both heads
thrown wildly over the pillows,
foreheads touched together,
eyes closed & sleep blown,
arms flung over the other

E, little kitten, family baby
never fails to bring a smile
bubble of sunshine
laughs constantly
except when she doesn't
hand sewn <3 AJTE
Nov 2013 · 1.0k
Be still. Listen.
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
black coffee right when I wake up
two ice cubes to cool it quicker
& a cigarette to drink it with
looking out
over my surroundings
bleary & unfocused
honestly, still cross-eyed
mesmerized by the way the trees move
the bird's disagreements,
their restless indecisive curiosity
& the swiftness of the cloud's divorce.
I never realized before that I am an artist.
Nov 2013 · 2.3k
fallout
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
anxiety attacks like
volcanic eruptions
buildup unbreakable.
the explosion is
the worst kind of release
it seems like the scariest
part but don't forget
the fallout
the devastation of
any living thing
nearby.
boom. sizzle.
Nov 2013 · 544
But
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
But
the prettiest woman in the room is
a little blonde girl
flower in her hair
sports jacket on
quietly listens to music &
entertains herself
by studying all the
loud adults around her
I don't know
what the question
in her eyes is
but
I wish
she would ask
me.


her father
sitting across from her
is a man
who at first glance
exudes boredom
but upon further inspection
the sad way
he holds his mouth
& looks down his nose
at the magazine that keeps him
mildly captivated
give him away;
wanted a beauty salon,
settled for Avon.
People watching.


just checked out an elderly woman's *** by accidentohgodohgodohgodohgod
Nov 2013 · 653
grail
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
lying in bed
teddy bear in one hand
& cigarette in the other
maybe my whole life is
this dialogue of me:
on the search for a
Holy Comfort Blanket
and
and
it must be a comedy
like all the kid's shows
where it doesn't matter
if a character dies,
the next episode
is a new story
    same ending.
little girl in my big girl *******
Nov 2013 · 416
1
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
1
crimson ribbons round your leg
delicate trails
quickly blurred
make you feel better yet?

nah, wipe it down
wash away
pale pink feathering reminders
all I need. never regret.
I missed this. Sit down. Write. Flow. Uninhibited.
Better than scuttle forward. cut. tip toe. sealed up & gifted.

sarah jaffe - swelling
Nov 2013 · 350
um. no name for now.
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
drinking alone & unwise at the table
watch me tremble; shook from the core
I say you're lonely, you say I'm unstable
I give all I have & you ask me for more.

⁢'s hard for me to breathe
through the needles & pins
hard for me to see
I'm giving in
you would love if you could be
a little under my skin
it's hard for me to see
I'm letting you win.

sinking inside in a fisherman's stable
cigarette ashes cover the floor
I try not to need you & find I'm unable
I give all I have & you ask me for more.

⁢'s hard for me to breathe
through the needles & pins
hard for me to see
I'm giving in
you would love if you could be
a little under my skin
it's hard for me to see
I'm letting you win.

oh, what a beautiful day:
I know that I won't always feel this way.
oh, this ocean I'm in;
I've already decided I won't swim.
I've already decided I won't swim.

losing myself in the old rhymes & fables
a candle to fend off my wandering mind
I told you I loved you, laid my heart on the table;
that's not what I got so I'll burrow inside.
this is a song
Nov 2013 · 1.2k
Pinocchio's Placebo
Amelia Jo Anne Nov 2013
how many pills does it take
to trick a mannequin into
believing she's real?

how long was the child
hungry before he
started to steal?

how much sun
can you take before
your skin peels?

how many promises
will I break
before I seal the deal?
endurance.jpg
Sep 2013 · 188
i hope...
Amelia Jo Anne Sep 2013
i laugh after i cry;
i sink before i fly.
...I make it
Sep 2013 · 359
Masks, Pedestals.
Amelia Jo Anne Sep 2013
try to keep going
let them live peacefully
as I fake it
let them keep
the illusion that
I am Something.

honestly,
when was I ever
Anything?
the symmetry of opposites
Sep 2013 · 1.3k
neural pathways
Amelia Jo Anne Sep 2013
layers of scars
over your heart
sedimentary footnotes
pages of insults
stacked one atop another
novellas of reminders
select a spot on the bookcase
pray to forget
Sep 2013 · 383
sink to me
Amelia Jo Anne Sep 2013
you're on the other side
but we stand
just a breath
a heart's murmur
a spider's sidestep
from touching.

i'm the duck who doesn't fly
& you've spent so long getting high
now that you're finally
touching down
solid ground just seems
like rock bottom.
Sep 2013 · 453
RPS
Amelia Jo Anne Sep 2013
RPS
Hallmark of good poem:
when paper softens rock and
scissors are laid down.
drunken bradley
Sep 2013 · 403
Promise
Amelia Jo Anne Sep 2013
lifting sifting
drifting intense
pouring distorting
apparently blessed
breathe high & divide
love myself, then the rest
I'll never stay with anyone
I can stand to give to less.
Sep 2013 · 490
headabovewater
Amelia Jo Anne Sep 2013
sweet soothing rhythms
& drip drop words
rain drop grooves
through my mind
a sheen of pink syrup
drips down my rib cage
staining my core &
strengthening me  
makes me feel regular again
I ***** & reject troubles
with a magic that bathes
my body; leaves me gleaming
as a goddess.
otherworldly & yet swimming
close to shore

die to keep myself alive
laugh for every time I cried
drink water straight from the tap
don't crack
don't crack
Sep 2013 · 1.5k
Swim inside
Amelia Jo Anne Sep 2013
I hate how naive I am
how twisted I grew
always struggling for breath
strangled & contorted
wrong air in the greenhouse
that outside seemed a dream house.

grew painfully pressed
soft & depressed in those places
shield of armor & tree trunk legs
strong & sturdy
waterlogged soul
I carry the ghost of every snowflake
every storm struck passenger's spirit
lost love & one glove.
Sep 2013 · 372
Promise
Amelia Jo Anne Sep 2013
lifting sifting
drifting intense
pouring distorting
apparently blessed
breathe high & divide
love myself, then the rest
I'll never stay with anyone
I can stand to give to less.
Sep 2013 · 590
headabovewater
Amelia Jo Anne Sep 2013
sweet soothing rhythms
& drip drop words
rain drop grooves
through my mind
a sheen of pink syrup
drips down my rib cage
staining my core &
strengthening me  
makes me feel regular again
I ***** & reject troubles
with a magic that bathes
my body; leaves me gleaming
as a goddess.
otherworldly & yet swimming
close to shore
die to keep myself alive
laugh for every time I cried
drink water straight from the tap
don't crack
don't crack
Sep 2013 · 1.4k
Swim Inside
Amelia Jo Anne Sep 2013
I hate how naive I am
how twisted I grew
always struggling for breath
strangled & contorted
wrong air in the greenhouse
that outside seemed a dream house.

grew painfully pressed
soft & depressed in those places
shield of armor & tree trunk legs
strong & sturdy
waterlogged soul
I carry the ghost of every snowflake
every storm struck passenger's spirit
love lost & one lost glove.
Sep 2013 · 816
focus
Amelia Jo Anne Sep 2013
let myself just stop halt, just for a second. let myself be myself, surrounded in music & by people I don't know..and some of them that I Do. stop for a moment & let myself just focus on their hands, their lips on me, working mine in the rhythms, those slutty club hypnotics crafted by sound manipulators. wait, Focus. Their soft, demanding lips on mine. not the ones I want but hey. Focus. Those slender fingers reaching up the nape of my neck- my arms give me away with natural goosebumps, my skin hacking up, reflexively, not aggressively, but with fondness & heated chills. those fingers, nails trailing my scalp...****, I wish he could do this - wait. Focus. her lips still demanding mine, but liquor likes to press the 'play' button when you're not looking, leaving you to stop. look at the mess you've made. children have a funny way of breaking all their favorite toys. stumble to the bathroom you half hoped you'd be tasting danger in about an hour ago. can't even be angry enough to flip off the other girl at the sink, too ashamed to look at yourself. the pressures of hating yourself some days unbearable because you get claustrophobic when the door closes with only you & your Savior inside.
Sep 2013 · 549
retreat, defeat
Amelia Jo Anne Sep 2013
our love was uncomfortable
made her reel
skyrocket
lose control
lift from the ground
with not enough momentum.
what might have aided
forced her forward,
conspired against her
& pulled her down
contact & corrode.
made my skin itch
tormenting, restless fingers
rub away the best parts
& reveal the scabs beneath.
At least she's propelled,
going somewhere. I'm stuck
sitting with how unhappy I am with myself,
& she's tumbling, tossed away from how unhappy I make her too.
Sep 2013 · 420
XVIII
Amelia Jo Anne Sep 2013
standing on
crossroads
binoculars tell me
each is a dead end.
try to pick the best bad option.
Sep 2013 · 487
Zero
Amelia Jo Anne Sep 2013
you continue to confuse & bemuse me
god little girl tease & please me
hair raven black
pouring over me when I lay
beneath you
rocking swelling rising rebelling
your hand holds my eyes closed
& you silently whisper
the secrets etched into your bones
skeletal hyroglyphics
you let me borrow your skin
feel the muscles under
read the scared scrolls
& reveal transmitter pathways
behind soul windows
you give me every piece of you
& to me you're just a piece to be used.
Sep 2013 · 622
scre-- ...fuck. sigh.
Amelia Jo Anne Sep 2013
twenty years have gone by & I'm not living yet
not comfortable in the climate of my home
I always seem to be pulling on sweaters
turning up heaters piling on blankets
when everyone else seems fine.

thirteen years have gone by & I'm just starting
to remember
just starting to sit down shut up listen
to the things, people happening in, around me
really hear; really appreciate,
let myself be moved honestly
when everyone else seems hurried, unaffected.

seven years have gone by since I
stopped being like other kids my age
started walking with bricks in my bookbag
scars on my thigh & the constant threat of pins-&-needles headaches
endless lists & workweeks
never getting everything done
everyone else seems lighter, walking in other gravity realms.
not done yet but I'm still thinking of where I want to go next
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