The sink clogged, with the hair I'm pulling out.
The deranged dripping of the pipes on the veneer...
A marvel.
To see what people will do to feel like they have some sense of control...

The window sill,
covered in dust, paint chips, mold,
The carcasses of dead flies...
There is an exquisite beauty to lonliness.

It's something relatable.
A way of being that is attainable, but unwanted.
It's just like this day,  
unwanted by all.

Some may though; want it.
Perhaps they are simply afflicted,
In need of a shoulder for their worries
and a day to hold them.

I don't think they would rip their hair out to do so.
Not like me.
Who cares?

I'll just watch now,
as the blood drips down the sink,
on the day they all needed,
when the pipes burst and dripped the mudded water
onto the the fresh veneer...

There is an a c h i n g in my bones.
                                     A raw power.
         A thirst for desire… A n e e d.
      This night in all its innocence…

                                                              is nothing but a distraction to me.
               A way to elude the demons.
                      To resist the temptation.
                                                              To fight my urge.

Let me forget myself.  Lose myself.            

                                                               It is terrifying to think…



Yet, I will.

Can you taste them?
Those slow melting morsels of sugar,
just lingering on the corners of your mouth...

You let them drip from your spoon,
let them roll off your tongue
and dress your intentions.
As they try and undress me...

Everything's inviting,
the presentation, the flavor, the texture...
Like Bartlett pears:
"Granules of sugary sand, made to melt and fill every taste bud."

The warmth of your phrasing,
reassuring with their momentary high
and their lingering desire for more...

Heavy with mood,
rich with aphrodisiacs'
and smooth like that cocky-*** grin...

These words are like ants,
attracted to the smell of decadence...
Sweet rotting decadence...

Watch them decay,
as the truth beneath...
Reveals the lack of sustenance.

Live on these words?
On these hollow, sugar-coated statements,
and be satisfied?
*******.

I need more than that.

You left me nauseous,
and filled with this stain...

Keep rolling those lines,
make them smooth and inviting,
make them enticing,
make them all yours....

Never again,
will I indulge you.

I need a tall drink of water,
the wind wiping through my hair,
and this pavement,

To guide my sullied feet,
as I "beat on against the current..."
of my self-indulgent past.

I had a dream...

That one day the screaming would stop ringing in my ears.
That one day the tears would no longer stain my cheeks.
That one day,
The pain would end
and not by the bottle in the medicine cabinet...

I was right.
It stopped.
At least the actions did.

But what was the price?

Abandoning the problem?
Realizing that you are better than what they made of you?
That you are not a *****?
Not a horrible, numb excuse for a human being?

Sounds easy to throw away, doesn't it?

They why do I keep looking at the bathroom door?
Thinking that bottle is the only thing to make it stop hurting...

Anything.
I would do anything to break free of this depression.
This pain that encompasses my every spoken word,
my every thought,
my every step...

Makes you feel like you're losing it...
Like nothing you do, matters.

Just turn off this ******* song and shut the **** up.
I can't stand it anymore.
These jumbled words, jostling around for release...
Never hitting their mark with their poison tipped arrows.

Just **** it.
**** this longing...
For what?
Who the hell knows.

We always want more, right?
What's so ******* bad about being happy?
Maybe because I don't know what that means...

Just go.
Let my rotting carcass stay in this chair,
watching the shadows dance across the walls
while the demon whispers in my ear...

*Burn it down.

Feel the rhythm and wake the dawn.
Show us that you care.
Needles fall to the sound of silence,
To your bed of questioning air.
Your wake unreached.
Drown me in desire,
But resist temptation.
Feel the drummers beat and
Motion to the sound.
Addiction.
Unfold me into light.
Blur my weaving qualms.
Rest your worried head,
And let me know you.
A taste of hope...
Unsteady hands,
Answer my soul.
Witheld motives and
Dangerous notions.
Penetrate my heart and
Devour me.
The rhythm moves us,
Lulls us,
Aids us.
Breathe.
And you will know desire.
The truth.
The answer to your hunger.
And I shall bend,
Within your demons
And your saddened eyes…
Then blur this illusion.
End of sight.
Break me.
Now breathe.

When does strength mask emotion?
I'm so in control I don't feel the need to write.
Yet, I want to.
A place for me to admit my short comings,
A place to merely be real with who I am becoming.
A woman who doesn't settle,
but hides behind her face.
No one will see this pain.
Suicide before they see me cry...
No. That's silly.
Life is a bigger and better adventure than that.
Then why is it still on my mind every week?
At some point I'm alone and something happens...
It points out a fault, a short coming, a failure ..
Then my mind wanders to all the pain,
the lies, manipulations, loss..
and I can't hide from that truth.
That behind this mask,
no one knows me.
This too, is my fault.

I'm a fool.

Lost between something truly comfortable
and an old spark.
Why the **** do I do this ****?
This feeling of lost time,
Of constant yearning.
The result of a lifetime of unsatisfactory relationships; especially the one I have with myself.
That's the answer isn't it?
Nothing.
Just me, myself and I to figure it all out.
100% acknowledged.
Yet my heart...
Could not yearn harder.
It's defining... This constant pulse in my ears.
Makes me want to curl up and sleep it off...
No hangover in the morning,
No missed messages,
Nothing.

Just wash my makeup off,
And still think I'm beautiful.

Wait...

I know why I don't write anymore,
everything I write is dull and out of pain.
Nothing new, nothing amazing, nothing even worth while.

I apologize if you're reading this new *******;
wasting your time if you want to be inspired here.

I used to have a strength,
that picked me up every time I fell,
but I don't have the will to even try anymore.

It's never worth it anyways.

Maybe it will be easier now.

Easier and Numb.

Why should I bother, when it never amounts to what I aim for?
I've lost the want,
to be better than I am.

Now I'm just rambling;
just looking for a reason to actually hit delete on my account,
and I truly have plenty.

It's sad frankly,
in my writing this,
I'm asking someone to give me a reason to belong,
which is pathetic to me.

I'm not a beggar,
but no longer a fighter.
What does that leave me with?

The honest,
heartfelt truth,
is the hardest to except.

The truth,
that I can fall if I want to,
and I don't expect anyone to help me up.

I'll watch you walk away from me,
I won't judge you for it;
I expect it.

With that one look as you pass,
I see the truth in your eyes.

So go ahead and say it.

Go on, tell me this is ****.
Tell me I can't do it.
Tell me I'm pathetic.
Tell me I just want attention.
Tell me I'm wasting my time.
Tell me everything you want,

because I already know.
I already agree with you.


I finally agree with you.

Congratulations my dear.
You win.

The eggplant baby ***** of this ceiling seems to swirl.
I am consumed in my own rhythm,
My own longing...
Just pull my ratted hair,
Tie me to the chair and make me shake in anticipation...

You don't.

Just a delicious little daydream to keep me company.

Wallowing in my ecstasy with no relief.
Watching the wallpaper peel slowly with my heavy breathes.

A chill runs down my spine,
As my head rolls back,
Eyes sigh,
I bite my lip.

Waiting.

Cutting into my fingertips,
Trying to stagger this urge,
This urge to let go.

To feel relief.

Bliss.
Kiss my eyes,
Roll my shoulders and extend your hand...

Build me up baby,
Watch me break you down.
Lose myself in your smell,
In your arms,
Your smile...

This is a mere desire.
A naughty little line,
Consumed in pure need.

I'll wander for now...
Until you feel the need,
To come and play....

Once again...

My fingertips are numb.
The fear of my words swallowing me.
Just as Eve devours the apple...

The Truth.
Is nothing but a feeling in the form of words.

The Game.
Just a way to make you understand.
Make you see...

But you were not the one who lost.

Light swims within these shadows,
reminding me of my uncertainty.
I lay here, drowning in my thoughts...

I did not understand.

That a game,
could be so dangerous.

The war rages on around you, around everyone.
Yet, none of you see it.
Why would you?

Your eyes do not know me, though they wish on...
You know my face.
You know my words.
You know my game.
But, what else do you know?

You do not know about Autumns leaves,
piling up around me.
You do not know about Winters grasp,
holding me to the ground.
You do not know about Springs puddles,
how I drowned in them... Begging for air...

You do not know about Summers fear,
how it held me in my tracks....
Daring me to touch its face.

I wanted to know what it was like...
To be wanted for more,
than what I have learned I am worth.

The water, will never wash that from me.
This you cannot realise.
I do not blame you.

I have lost it all.










The trembling lips of a broken woman.










You could have had it all.











My heart of ash...
Now watch it crumble in your hands,
and float through these numb fingertips...

Unforgiving secrets; truth within lies?
A strangers words haunt this daydream.
A flood of unease; the forgotten storm.
Accusations: creatures of snow.
What should I think?
When the truth is such a fickle thing...

**** your demons.
Haunt your ghosts.
Burn your ashes.
Wipe away the tears.
Break down the walls.
Let everything go.
Fall off the edge.
Lose your mind;
And discover how good life can feel.

I don't know how I feel?
Is that wrong?
Or bleak?

Lying here naked,
Body drenched,
Yet,
I do not know myself.

Tears spill from my tired eyes,
Laughter fills my lungs,
And still a feeling of longing...

Why do I feel this...
This emptiness...

I wish for nothing more...
Than to not lose that longing...

But to understand it.

The crows feet that bore lines through your skull.
The scars on your arms from distant pains.
The way you bite your lip when I roll my eyes.
The way you play with my hair.
The sound of my name on your lips.
Little things.

The way you make me stand on your feet whenever we dance.
The way you make me blush.
The safety in your eyes.
The way you accept me,
For exactly who I am.
Little things.

Who knew such little things, could mean so much more than anything else?

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder they say.
I say,
I have never known such beauty, such grace, such divinity; until you.

Since you.

It was always you.