When I was a child,
People said
About me:
She will be a
Builder, or destroyer.

As an adult,
I never got to
Build anything,
Or destroy anything,
But myself.

leaving me to drown
would be a fate less cruel
then falling asleep in your arms
and waking up
next to an empty space

you blame me from all the crimes you've committed,
yet you're the one to blame.

She doesn’t always look the same
Sometimes she’s a silver sphere
Fooling you that she is bright
But she’s just a mistress of the night

Sometimes only half of her you can see
Following you wherever you’ll be
She hides while dancing in the sky
Half, still a full beauty up high

In time, she becomes thin, crescent
Like a smile, a blissful moment
She looks delicate, discriminating
Only a part of her, still breathtaking

And only those prison of the night
Will witness the euphoric stint
Of showing pieces of her then
The beauty of becoming whole again

“Eyes are the windows to your soul”
      And while that may be true
         I see an entire doorway
           When I look into you
            Corridors full of art
             Leading to eternal
                     sunshine
            I see a friendly door
          With a welcome home
                        sign.

oh darling,
your words are too sweet
they rot your teeth
poisoning every kiss
you plant on my lips

Artists are often
broken people
using the fragments of themselves
to create something new
and although
being healed
feels so complete
sometimes i want to be broken again
sometimes i want open wounds
so i can use the blood
to paint sunsets
so i can use the torn off pieces of skin as a canvas
so i can carve
masterpieces with the jagged bones left behind
but I can't bring myself to break my own heart in the name of Art

The sharp point
Brings relief
I can’t explain
The release

The quick pain
Frees the hurt
I hold inside
Like poison

The afterward
Uncovers a calm
I crave
Despite the scar

Some woundes can’t be healed with love.
Especially those which were made by the hands of anger.

My back is barely a canvas
as my blood drips between my shoulder blades
creating a destructive masterpiece
from allowing the cuts to be visually stimulating
rather than attempting to treat them
with the love and respect
that they deserve.