Let the stars tell you my story,
Of how I fell and rose, but crawled back inside.
Of how with I wind I conquered the skies,
But with the rain I fell to the ground.
Let the stars tell you my story,
Of how I let my heart have its way.
Of how I sat alone by the river
And felt the wall around me grow taller.
Of how I loved but never felt loved,
Broke my self and never stood up again.
Let the stars tell you my story
How I'd look to them every night.
Sit there by the window,
And sing the saddest song of plight.
Watching them shine with brilliance,
Wishing for it to shine through my mind.
Let the stars tell you my story,
Let them sing to you the song I taught them each starry night.
Someday when I leave through the back door,
Maybe then you'll get to know why I cried,
Maybe then you'll know the pain
I hid from you all this while.

I believed in the word "you"

She said people were seasons,
and when I first met her, I couldn't agree more.  
After getting to know her, I wished that I didn't.
Her ex-lovers were Winter, and her eyes were a shade of Spring.
I could see the vulnerability of a car crash
swimming in each fountain trapped behind her emeralds.
She was beautiful in the way that could cause suicides,
and fix spider-webbed windshields after each collision of,
“Are you okay,” and, “I’m fine; I promise.”

Every story was Winter, and she was always left alone in the snow.
Mauve lips mouthed words that silently whispered,
"When is this too much? When are you going to leave?"

People are patterns,
and all she knew was the tessellation of temporary love and permanent loss.
Her hands trembled as she looked down.
She was in transit; moving after each hope of home fell apart.
And I wanted to kiss her like the world was falling apart.

I have the muse
I have the words
I have the need
I have the force
yet when I try, I come up dry
and end up, for the worse

the words you speak send razors through my chest into empty spaces between ribs where butterflies once use to live and where a heart would beat at the sound or sight of a dream i wanted. you moulded me into a woman too sickly filled with poison that could do nothing but wait and cry, wait and cry, waiting on the arms that matched your false superhero cape. its not fair how you use recycled words and i always fall for them. you've knocked the wind out of my chest and left me crawling for air on my knees. you have made me feel like i didn't matter, or that i wasn't worth the time or commitment, and instead of a soul you saw me as a body. you have taken the appeal of life out of me and have taught me what it feels like to heal without passion or interest. you rooted a hatred of myself inside me so deep i would have to scoop out my organs upon finding it. i give my applause for you putting yourself above me because that shows self appreciation; i just wish you could appreciate the butterflies a little bit more.

-mixed thoughts series

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