I'll clench my teeth until they break
Before I ever let it out.
I'll clamp it shut as they crack and shatter before I utter a word of the pain.
I'll bite through my tongue before you hear me say how bad it hurts.

I won't give that to you.
I won't give it to anyone.

And if the depths of my painful screams could echo loudly enough, booming like sonic waves throughout the universe,
they'd ripple out and shred tears in the dimension to bring forth a timeline where
I never lost you to begin with.

I'm so desperate for peace
That a part of me
Is tempted to do something
Drastic to get it.

Like jump off a building
Thinking I'll fly.

I have a wishbone

Where my backbone should be

And I bend over backwards, snapping myself in half,

Trying to manifest my dreams.


I don't know how I developed such a spineless way

Of walking through this life,

But I know I need to get a grip,

and charge forth towards the sky.

I will rip out every key to every door you think or ever thought that you had access to.

I will go down the line.

Slowly turning each lock,
As I whisper under breath,

"*******."

All is temporary
Through the sands of time.

Nature and the seasons.

Emotions and feelings.

Stories and history.

Who even am I
And what does it all matter
As it disappears in time?

I can't seem to fill
The endless, gnawing void in my stomach
That infinitely expands with age.

The black hole in my stomach
That keeps me from truly feeling home
With anyone, anywhere.

They say home is where the heart is,
And maybe mine got unknowingly
****** in too.

Everything consumed by the pit of loneliness.

I can't wait to shove hot knives down your throats after all the times you made me swallow hot truths that even my tongue didn't want to have to spew but you cowards could never.

So who will stand for justice if not me?

I won't apologize for my skewed ways
Of execution either,
Because its your fault im twisted baby,
Let's play five finger filet,
Whats wrong?
Don't you trust me?

I still am not entirely sure if free will or fate exists
or
if somehow in this chaoticly ordered universe that they overlap randomly in time.

Life is a **** deal.

No matter how great the cheap thrills, tricks, and food is,

It isn't worth its counterpart.

The pain isn't worth this chaos carnival ride

And the only ones who think it is

Are the clowns.

You thought you were the angel of death?

You thought you could hide your shadow forever did ya?

How clever you think you are.

Are you excited to play with demons?

Are you excited to see what I can do?
What kind of games I'm capable of?

Fallen angels know nothing of hell.

Our deepest natures are poison when mixed.

She dances in the Underworld

because it's the only place judging eyes do not see.

Dancing in the dark,

Elegantly twirling and falling back into the arms

of the Great Unknown.

Maybe there should be a different word for forgiveness because there are two kinds.

There is the forgiveness that we all automatically think of when we hear that word.

The kind where when they apologize and you feel the betrayal and pain come crashing down, collapsing on top of you all at once. Your world falling apart, or maybe just the walls of defense but as they begin to crumble, you can hear their, "I'm sorry," echoing through the back of your mind as you let the pain wash over you.
With each wave that comes you begin to bathe them in the cleansing waters too.
Your pain transmuting through a hug and three little words and you can feel it all wrap around you both like a big warm hug and you just...
Let go.

Then there's the kind of forgiveness that happens with boundaries.
This kind gets you stuck in your anger because more than likely the other person isn't going to come to you at their knees and try to show you they wanna make it better.
Or maybe, they just plain have run out of chances and your good graces wore thin but this kind of forgiveness will bring you to your own knees.
Begging for reprieve from the knives that have been stabbed into back. You just wish it was the person who put it there to give it but it won't be them.
It'll be you.

And you don't ever really "forgive" someone when you've finally removed THEIR knife the way you do when someone takes accountability for their half of the pain.

The other half of forgiveness is painful and lonely.

But you do it for you.
Just like they did it all for them.

You don't get a loving hug.
You get rug burnt, bleeding, hot trembling hands as you finally let go of the weight that was slowly about to drag you off the cliff from holding on.

But the minute you let go you find relief as the cool wind lightly kisses your callouses.

So you let it go.

Let go.

Maybe we cry sometimes

to be able to see with fresh eyes.

You make Tomorrow sound so beautiful baby.

The way that the false promises
Fall right off your tongue
So gracefully
Like silver waters.

I love the ways we're always waiting,

Waiting on Tomorrow.

Artists
See the deepest beauty in things

The simple minded never could.

Simple minds lead to shallow hearts.

Artists create

Just like God creates.

We are all artists within because we are One with the All.

If you don't see beauty, feel beauty,
You don't create or express, and if you don't create, you are seperated from the God Self within.

Express the Soul within
And show em your work of Art.

Stars begin to doubt their shine

When surrounded by the blind.

The cry it out method must have
Stemmed from God.

Because you know
They hear the wails
yet they do nothing.

They let themselves feed off my light
So that they could remain sustainable in their void.

Choke on the darkness.

You opened up my Pandora's box
And out sprang forth a geyser of forgotten traumas.

Years of hard work of disassociation,
Wasted.

You yell at me for not loving you better but I was loving you just fine before this and if I didn't then that's on you for never speaking up.

Your intimidation isn't my problem.

You yell and kick and scream
About abandonment
While I'm fighting off the demons
You activated for abandoning yourself and with that, your life.

You don't get to dictate how I handle the pain YOU opened up.

Idc about your half hearted attempts.

Admit that you're weak and you fell and you're knocked out and stop pretending to play confident king.

Delusional men who think they sit on a throne of truth but they sit upon half-truths, broken to pieces by your fractured perceptions.

Just admit it.

You are defeated and I refuse
to lie down and die in your coffin with you.

Humans aren't experienced with
"Intricacies."

The world sped up and shifted away from meaning.

They don't have time
To stop and think,

Let alone,
Stop and wonder.

They need things simple and quick,
To the point and definitive.

But I never was any of those things.

Anomalies stitched together with
deep complexities.

A walking contradiction
To all that is non-fiction.

I'm like ridin' waves,
Up n down.
Never staying the same.

I don't make sense, they say.

Is it because I can't make sense of me?

They wanted what was whole but couldn't have it all
So they took pieces instead.

And when they came back for another,
they came to realize there was nothing left.

Such hot tears, that sizzle and evaporate
as they drip off the sides of hot cheeks.

Mist slowly rising off my shoulders,
out and off my head, and down my arms and legs.

Smokey fog swarming me from the humidity that begins to emit in the room from the heat.

Anger that boils blood
Now secreting through the skin
Through sweat and tears.

I clench my jaw, cemented shut, and squeeze my eyes tight.
Hoping to wring out all the pain and anger through the tear ducts.

Juice it to salty pulp.

Such hot tears pooled on top of burning cheeks.
Turning into hot springs.

One of the warmest things I have felt

In such a long time.

I hear a lofty siren's song that often calls to me.

A voice that sings like fae in Spring.

A voice that sounds like Destiny.

Even though I hear it ring,
Somehow I know,
This goes beyond the sea.

To stars far away,
Other world's the human eyes may
Have never seen.

Angelic tones, calling home
My aching soul.

I take small shy footsteps,
Come what may.
Let's hope trying to be brave,
Leads the way.

I sometimes wonder if it was fated.

Maybe it is my job to be the evil one now.

Maybe we were meant to switch roles this way

And I was meant to experience this pain, this empty, this hatred

For everything for being nothing I ever wanted.

Lately I find myself stopping and wondering,

"Did you feel this way too? Behind closed doors and in your waking every day life, were you also consumed by this?
Have you wanted to be better but every day become
Jeckle and Hyde even though you didn't want to?
Did you experience the loneliness?
The distance? The fear? The panic?
The pure hell that is this existence?!"

Sometimes I really do wonder.
Sometimes I get curious enough to want to ask.
Sometimes I am really glad I can't ask when the moment sparks
because that means opening a whole new door,

Building a whole new bridge again
And DEAR GOD how it hurt growing up and watching the ones
I put so much work into get blown apart, repeatedly set ablaze by the dynamite you set off again and again and I just watched.
Like a child who just had their tower of blocks pushed over
I watched my bridge constantly decimated by fire, as each piece fell into the moat you built around your castle that you built around yourself to continue to waste away like the skeleton King you are
as you whisper your last breath, "You never really loved me."

Now look at you.
King of Nothing.

Who had a skeleton princess who swiped away her father's ashes from the gold laced throne and she took his place.
She dies waiting for her Prince that will never come
because she simply won't let down the draw bridge.

Is it normal to have old dreams past slosh from side to side in your head?

A sea of old memories that were never real,

Yet you remember them sometimes better than the ones you collected from everyday reality.

Is it normal to have your mind somewhere in space?

Or possibly it fell out and down the drain instead,

Maybe it is sinking to the bottom of the ocean by now.

But seriously,

I don't know where I am.

Walking between worlds.

I feel so spacey.
Like I'm falling and there is nothing to hold onto.

Like there's a cannon ball
Rolling. . . side to side. . . and side to side in my head. . .

Is it all my thoughts that I could never make sense
now condensed?

Weighing me down further into the silent void.

The Emptiness, the stillness, the calm. . .

People talk of these things like they are comforting

But to me I feel like dry bones walking around,

Dead inside both in heart, and in head.

Crack the sky open

And spill forth all that was hiding behind the curtain.

You will not hide the Truth from us much longer

and you will die trying

as we die fighting.

God always wins.

I twist the black smoky quartz crystal between my fingers,

Staring into the void of the darkness in it's shimmer,

Remembering how the stars predicted

That I would be, and am destructive.

I used to be the angelic who thought they could do no wrong.

Never fathoming dancing with the Devil.

Oh but not I, no longer.

Satan himself sees me at the ball and bows.

He knows to kiss my rings

Cause what a privilege it'd be to waltz with me.

Lilith my Mother, the one who will never bow.

I glide my tongue across my canine's

Only imagining the fangs of a lion.

I am a fallen angel, who painted her wings black.

I stare with blank deranged eyes, knowing I could disconnect

From whatever little soul I have left at a moment's notice

If it means ripping out throats to get what I want.

There is a fire roaring in my charcoal heart

And all I want is pure power.

More power, ferocious all consuming power.

But nay, not over the everyday people,

Only those who dare cut their eyes at me the wrong way,

the ones who question what I am capable of,

The ones who try to steal freedom,

and most importantly,

The ultimate power over myself completely.  

I stare at the crystal and throw my head back in a deep maniacal laugh, reverberating through my throat.

They have no idea who I am to become,

and really neither do I but one thing I do know is,

No one will be able to match my fire.

I want a man who remembers his Divinity.

In his full spirit, ready to create with me.

I want the woman who has remembered she is a Goddess.

Let me worship them in love and gratitude.

I want people who remember,

With Me,

Who we really are.

I already Am that I am,

Where are those who are?

How I long for a place of green.

Trees that give the freshest air.

Rain that washes away everything.

Cleansing the land, and cleansing me.

I am so tired of feeling dead inside

from seeing the dried out death all around me.

It feels like I can feel the land screaming.

Screaming like me for just a drop of water.

A drop of life.

I wonder what it must be like to constantly
Degrade your garden,
Neglect your garden,
Give it just enough water to survive
Yet never enough nutrition to thrive,

AND THEN

Still have the ******* audacity to blame the ******* garden
For not producing enough for you.

It feels like my heart

Doesn't have much room to feel

That much of anything

Other than fear.

You will only ever get slivers of people

Until we learn how to mesh souls.

I realized that day

that I would let love slip through my fingers

every time

before I ever swallowed the knot in my throat

and accepted my pride.

I would set the world on fire

and relish in the burn.

Even if the ashes only bring misery,

watching my painful fire consume everything in it's path

is somehow the only temporary relief you get

from your very small pathetic power trip.