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You see my thoughts as I do.
And before I get a chance to shout them to the world,
there you are, beating my declaration,
claiming your own.

Your eyes see right through me,
to the brick lain so heavily in cement.
Your breath is a tornado.
Your gaze is its storm.

Just as I’m beginning to think I have some grip on this world,
that I can make a difference,
that my life is a significant, precious jewel
so rare that even the richest of men wouldn’t waste me…
I see you again.
And I see a man so in tune with his talents,
yet so lost in them.
And everything else.

Stop reading my mind.
Stop understanding me.
Stop knowing me.

Because you don’t know me.
I convince myself of this over and over
until the words in my brain are moving so fast
that even I get dizzy
and must rest my weary eyes
‘til the morning sun evaporates every leftover
drop of dew that may have tainted my soil.

Until the clouds come again, my friend,
I have conquered my soul.
She had eyes like caverns
The crystalline water flowing endlessly through
They were the gateway to her past, to her loves lost, and her regrets abound.
"I'm a strong female"
She said
"I can take care of my self"
She screamed, just wishing she could believe it, knowing deep inside she was only hurting herself.
The demons she hides, Clawing their way out, scratching at her
"LET ME OUT!" they scream, only so that she can hear
Never showing anyone her inner most depths.
Never showing vulnerability
For fear she would be cast aside, like a stone blemished and broken.
But I see you, I see your demons, and I see your fears, I see the darkness you hide so well
And I am here to tell you that youre beautiful, if no one else will.
There is so much more to you than you know,
More than you will ever know
Nothing you say will ever change that
Nothing you do, will ever alter that
Because I see you, For who you are.
Your life sprawled unto a sheet of parchment
This isnt your life!
This is what you want to believe is your life
What makes you, Who you are, is the darkness that resides inside of you
It is the fear
The Hate
The Pain
And the Emptiness you feel.
We ALL feel these things
We ALL experience, these emotions, but it is My place, to tell you that I think you're the most lovely entity I have ever witnessed.
"Too much?" you ask.
It is never too much, nothing is ever too much.
The things you fear, are too much, are the things that draw me closer, like a shark closing in on a drop of blood.
These things, that you fear make you ugly, or freakish, I think are what makes you a goddess, amongst average peasants.
I long, for this darkness
I long, for these demons.
Because you are not a monster, you are an angel, in mortal being
Because only in you, does the necessary knowledge, and empathy reside, to understand the broken man inside of me.
Dont you ever forget, that youre walking this earth because you belong here, to counter-balance the atrocity that resides in me.
I will never truly see, how you could sit and watch
As they grew without you or your presence
You knew they needed a statue to grow
Like ivy climbing a wall
Yet instead, you buried your head in the alcohol
No one forced your hand
No one held a gun to your head
It was your choice, YOUR choice to sow the seeds of these vines
Yet you turned your back, and like a careless entity
let them grow, all alone with nothing to cling to but the crumbling walls of a downtrodden building
Built up by man
Strengthened, by his desire to create
Weakened, by his neglect, and the maltreatment of others
Why, Why would you sit by and watch, from a distance?
How could you stop caring?
These vines were yours, this ivy, YOU planted.
And like a child, you chose to throw them aside like they were nothing
Years go by, the vines have climbed their way up the wall, thick, and strong.
Surviving on their own, with the wall to support.
I guess, maybe you thought it was best?
Maybe, it was what was right, to let them grow on their own, to fight, and scratch, and claw their way up on their own.
They became stronger that way, relying on a broken surface to guide them.
So that they would not become like you.
The withered, hollow hull of a man, longing for a second chance, to tend to his ivy.
Maybe your chance isnt gone
Maybe, there is still time.
Not for the grown, Lush ivy that stands, but for the ivy they will one day themselves, sow.
Amongst a sea of dark.
a glimmer of light presented.
like hope for the hopeless
a light for the lost
a vessel to contain a wandering soul
at arms length
yet ever so far off
just out of reach
for the time being this is life
but one day, the light stops trailing away
and allows itself to be caught
the soul that which so longed for purpose
floating through a sea of dark, alone
found the light, found its home.
 Jun 2013 Chelsea Codrington
Ben
peel my flesh and crack my ribs
excavate my chest cavity two fists deep
a ******* futile exercise grasping for nothing
my much neglected heart has withered
shriveled turned to dust on its aortic vine
intimacy, love, a human connection
a half remembered dream it's fleeting
hold me close cause all I feel are ghosts
In all my years here,
I will not remember what's on page five of my notes
for that one class I took last semester
or the one before,
but rather the lessons I've learned along the way.
This,
I would say,
is what I have learned in college.
This,
I would say,
matters:

Live your life.
Don't let others live it for you.
Act your age.
Mind your own business.
Be there for the people who care.
Be there for the people who don't.
Be independent.
Get over yourself.
Love.
Let yourself be loved.
Be honest.
Hold on.
Let go.
Change things.
Accept things.
Break things.
Fix things.
Win.
Lose.
Cry.
Laugh.
Mess up.
Step up.
Be better.
And whatever you do, don't let someone else take the best of you away,
And if you do,
forgive them,
but mostly,
forgive yourself.
Your image in my eye

dries and dies;

what could live in this desert place of mine?

One day you’ll have the death of me

splattered all over your stark-white shirt

the most soft and tender breath

could be lost on your face.



-She’s sitting between crumbled sheets,

bones squeaking like a cat;

the illusion of happiness-



I could never stitch you back

head and heart and limbs together

properly joined-

it would take more than my life

to make you whole again.
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