just another day
of racked
tangling
mangled
emotion

-

{(+)}
we are all okay
until you come in
{(+)}

Closing my eyes
Accepting the darkness
Isolated from the crowd
And I'm a confined human
Bathing in laughter that isn't mine
Living a lie in the oak tree shade
Shivering in the hail that covers the land
Around me. The hail that makes everything ice.



Accept it. Please.
*PLEASE

a Rhythm is what I dream of.
One that can flow
So I used (parentheses) to make people think that I have a rhythm.
Or italics, or bold words.
Maybe commas, or periods.
Or something among the lines.
What I'm really doing is
Finding a Rhythm.

I play with the fonts, with the size, with the writing.
It doesn't really help.
But, if I cause enough damage to the original text,
I forget what's happening outside of the screen.
I guess I want a Rhythm.

Finally, I found a Rhythm.

bleh.
its worth it
but
i cant seem to wrap my head around the fact
bleh.

the longest runs
are the things that **** us
we can train
we can raise our knowledge
but we can never prepare for the hurt
the anger
the tears
the scars.
when i say what's happening
people pity me
they try to 'help'
they look at me with sad eyes
and tell me to just solve it.
i can't, now can i.
it hurts.
i love.
i hate.
when you think you get out of it
it ropes you back in
if i cry
you don't care
if i yell
you don't care
if i leave
you hit me with words
you slap me with insults
tell me
i'm stupid
i'm an idiot
i'm worthless.
you pull me back in
into the fishing line
and i'm caught
caught on the hook
you trick me
say that you'll always love me
no matter what.
then you go along
and shed your hateful words like a snake
still,
i'm caught in the fishing line.
i'm stuck in the hook.
and there's no getting out.

The people are running by me
I eye them with distaste
While the sky smiles upon them
Leaving me in the dark

"Come quick!" The clouds shout to me.
"I'll stay in the dark." I say to them.

I leave the sun to its people, and enter the shadows once again.

happy mothers day
to those who have brought life
to those who have cared
to those who have welcomed the actions
to those who have shielded us from the world

happy mothers day
to the person who gave me life
to the person who cared about me
to the person who welcomed my actions
to the person who hidden me from the harsh world

i love you mom
so happy mothers day to you.

The singing flowers
The dancing rain that patters
On the roof above.

In the colour that I hope
I believe deeply that they will come to life
And dance around the children
Helping them bloom into themselves
Letting them see as I stare in awe


The rough shades of gray and black
Get chased away by the light
I smile in happiness and join the children that are playing
But they stopped the jump roping, the smiling, the laughter.
I sighed and turned away, but the light chased after me.
I ran away, but they still followed.

*So now I'm on a forever run.

My name
Is
Allie

My story
Is
Lost

My past
Is
Absent

And
Me?

*I've vanished.

{+:+}
Is that my name up on that list?
Does someone know that I exist?
Is this a mistake?
Am I even awake?
Pinch me now to make sure...
Ow!
Is my name in black and white?
Maybe I'm doing something right
Wow! I feel so much better than before.
{+:+}

ThE (leAvEs) fAll frOm The (treEs).
(ReD), OraNge, aNd YelloW.
SIftLy, (aNd) sLowly, buT sUrelY.
BlinK and tHey'rE sTill (thEre).

jUmpIng, and yOu (see) fLashes of reD, oranGe, and (yEllow)

LeaVes (arE) hEre

i remember a few months back
i was lost.
i was betrayed.
i wanted to die.
i guess its the feeling of life
that keeps my chest rising and falling
that single feeling of possibility.

i remember when i wanted to die.
my sister uttered a single sentence
that changed my course.

life is hell. it's ruthless and cruel, but death is ten times harder.

Locker room talk.

Yes, it's 'cool.'
Sure, it's was considered 'awesome.'

But have you considered that
Women
Are humans
As well?

Locker room talk.

No, it's not cool.
No, it's not awesome.
No.
It is not what makes you tough.

1 out of 4 women are sexually abused.

And I see you.
I see you.
Your eyes are glazing over.
"What joy. It's* *this talk." You say.
Yes. It is that. talk.

What if,
Though.
It was her.