i.

Inamorato's and inamorata's
Hath lost the meaning of amour';
Being two separate entities.

ii.

Me and mine lass
Shalt forever last;
For we art one spirit, one soul, one destiny.


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication

She stood still before the choas; unshaken.
The wind blew its mighty breath against Her core but to no avail; unmoved.
Her coffee'd skin warm like the sun that kisses the Earth's horizon.
Something within Her had risen without warning nor permission:
She was a Goddess, in Her own right.

Brown. The soft tone of the Earth.
Golden hue painted widely across the canvas of Her *****.
Her skin like caramelized silk, with the sunglow of Egypt itself.

She pressed Her face to the Earth's floor and moved mountains with Her prayers.
Queen of the meek, ambassador of the poor.
She was the perfect amalgam of beauty and brokenness.
~The Goddess of Humility.

She said you can hate me as much as it would hurt. She sobbed as she cried those words. For the love of my life to ever even consider that I could hate her, it broke my heart.
How could I ever possibly hate her, she created me.

not here, here, here

-eyes closed-

a bath rub filled with bubbles
shaped like balloons rising in the air
her heart cut open, she can’t preclude
the secret nature of her love

and, he loved her, he loved her
he watched her every ballet she danced
a butterfly moving on tiptoes
tripping the light en pointe with
painted pale lips, winged eyeliner
silk Lacroix corset and feathered tutu

performing Swan Lake
at the Palais Garnier
the promised faery tale ballets
graceful movements to Tchaikovskys’s
compositions, telling the story of Odette
drowning in the lake falling to her fate

-KNOCK-

not here, here, here

-eyes open-

his voice; Laurier
her soul; punctured by her lover
a locked bathroom door
she kisses away her melancholy madness

not here, here, here*

© Sia Jane

1.)    I don’t want you to think I’m crazy

2.)    People see your pain and they see an opportunity to play the good guy. The hero in your twisted little fairytale. The public finds out you’re chemically imbalanced and the magic spell is cast! Like Cinderella’s dress, their contempt for you transforms into love and admiration. They now feel the need to let you know they are there, they care, they pray for you. When they can’t even remember your name.

3.)    Expression of my depression is not a cry for attention. You asked me how I was and I’m really tired of using the word “fine”.

4.)     “Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem” **** THAT and all the same psychobabble ******* that’s recycled over and over again. If you want to help me tell me what you think. Tell me how you feel. Don’t google mental illness and memorize the wiki page I already did.

5.)    Self-harm gets enough publicity already. If you want this trend to go away stop drawing hearts on your wrists, wearing orange ribbons on your chest, and telling people you love them but only if they hate themselves first.

6.)    And while we’re on the subject what’s this obsession with kissing scars? You're not the lead singer of some punk band you’re my boyfriend. Kiss my lips or kiss my ***

7.)    If I wanted another therapist I’d buy one

8.)    What if you think I’m weak 8) What if I am weak 8) You’ll know I’m weak

9.)    How am I to explain to you what’s wrong with me when I can barely admit it I have a problem in the first place.

10.)  I want you to know my favorite songs, Why I hate my name or how I once ate 50 starbursts in one sitting. I want you to know the good things. I want you to know me. I don’t want you to think I’m crazy.

When men cheat, it's below the belt. When women cheat, it's above the neck.

You said you like S

                                 L
               U
                            T
      
        S.

I am glad I'm
N
O
T

What
Y
   O
U

W
   A
N
   T.