today is your birthday
I hope you know that if I could
if I could say it
I would say happy birthday
but I cant
I can't congratulate you on another year
but I hope there's cake
and candles too
like the ones I used to do
but that's over
however, your day is not
so take a shot
"cheers to 28"

I feel like I have lost my words.
Once they flowed so easily
Time has ripped my mind from the flow of my mouth.
I fell in love with a someone else's soulmate.
I became selfish and jealous and pushed myself to a point that my words became useless.
When you choose emotions over words instead of bringing the two together
you create a self destructing version of yourself that lives on the outside while the true version of yourself watches on the inside.
Hiding writing is the hardest thing I chose to do with my life
I would look around at creation and say to myself, 'that's nice.'
Only my insides are screaming, 'describe it! write it down!'
Or something dark would encompass my being and instead of fighting with a pen, I cowered, crumbling.
I allowed myself to be swallowed, digested, and even parts left behind, scattered around a crime scene where my words made a difference
Instead I chose a cowards way, pretending I was incompetent
And my words slowly dwindled down as short as I could possibly make them.
One day, I saw a baby chicken have a seizure, and I started to cry. And as my tears flowed, I thought to myself how would that chicken describe me ?
It seems extremely odd I know, but in that moment I couldn't think of a single word. My lungs tightened as I continued to hold this now lifeless creature.

Lifeless
Breathless
Speechless

No one knows the darkness I feel under my skin
How twisted I felt, trapped beneath a weighted cloth
Yet your hands, rough, removed the cloth and inspired my soul to be genuine
To no longer hide beneath a veil of innocence, but to embrace the dark and love deeply within its covers

You walked in as a gentleman
You would leave as a wolf
Making me yearn for memories we had made together to happen again
giving anything to relive the movie of us, the moment I kept staring at your lips wondering what they would taste like

Now I am unable to breathe, feeling a constant choking in my throat, a squeezing in my stomach.
Your cologne rips through my body, makes my mind flash to the night we rubbed against each other, how much passion how felt after I realized I did not kiss you correctly

I am sure I did it all wrong
I am sure you do not feel the same
And since I am treading with my lips barely above the surface of the water
I know you will not extend your hand
Or even offer an assuage for my broken body

And yet you smile, you laugh, knowing how I must feel, being unable to breath around you
You intentionally speak my name with a ragged breath, which again sparks another cluster of memories
Im dying inside, collapsing within leaving nothing more than an empty seashell that rattles because of the broken pieces

Part of my mind wants amnesia, to forget about the way you make me feel
however the other part begs me to keep memories fresh, feeling your flesh against mine
Never stop
Don't let the wounds heal

I know you bite,
I again feel the pressure of your mouth against my throat, my heart racing as I beg for you to rip my innocence open
And allow the weight to flow freely from my veins

Eventually I need to move on
I have to stop looking your way, or driving the same route home that you do
I have to tell myself that you never truly wanted me, that you just used me, and now your memory is simply a poison in my veins that burns and adds more weight to my cloth

if only your venom would stop tasting so sweet

I've got the children to tend
The clothes to mend
The floor to mop
The food to shop
Then the chicken to fry
The baby to dry
I got company to feed
The garden to ****
I've got shirts to press
The tots to dress
The can to be cut
I gotta clean up this hut
Then see about the sick
And the cotton to pick.

Shine on me, sunshine
Rain on me, rain
Fall softly, dewdrops
And cool my brow again.

Storm, ******* from here
With your fiercest wind
Let me float across the sky
'Til I can rest again.

Fall gently, snowflakes
Cover me with white
Cold icy kisses and
Let me rest tonight.

Sun, rain, curving sky
Mountain, oceans, leaf and stone
Star shine, moon glow
You're all that I can call my own.

We are critical.

We find flaws in
everything we see
because nobody
wants to write
about perfection,
even though sometimes
we wish we could just stay
staring into that
unblemished surface.

2. We are never satisfied.

We live our lives upon
mountains of
scrunched up
bits of refill and
ideas we gave up
trying to
express.

3. We never forget.

We write words about
eye contact made
three months ago
that we replay over
and over in our minds
even though it
stopped
being relevant.

4. We are fickle.**

Our emotions flash
from one
to the other
like strobe lighting that
disorientates us
until we feel as if
the world
will never be still.

5. We are exposed.

We don't know how
to keep our feelings
to ourselves so
we'll write them
down for
you to find
'accidentally'.

6. We are vulnerable.

We wear our
hearts on our sleeves
and won't lift a
muscle to fight back
if somebody tries
to break it
because we thrive
from the pain.

7. We will never stop.

We will never stop
feeling and
we will never stop
hurting,
we will never stop
breaking and
bleeding and
loving
even though the cycle
is endless
and we know what's
coming next.


We are addicted
to agony,
but we agonise
for the art.

You said I love you.
I say I love you more.
But love is a prime number,
and zero squared is still zero.

r ~ 5/10/14

When I dropped the plates,
When he pushed me against the wall,
When his hand was at my throat,
When nothing was right,
And I wasn't good enough,
When I was bleeding on the floor,
And the crimson stained his shoes,
When I fought his lecherous touch.
It wasn't enough to save me.

If I should have a daughter,
Well, I'd probably lock her away and buy her a suitor
Because I wouldn't want her to feel what I felt.
I'd probably buy her everything
So she wouldn't feel what I felt.
I'd most probably
Eventually
Turn my house into the greatest functioning dystopia
A pill would take away the pain
Everything was chosen for you
The giver, the receiver, everything mapped out
So she wouldn't feel what I felt.
I would probably find friends for her that she could trust
And she would never fight with
So she wouldn't feel what I felt.
If I should have a daughter, I would cry each night
Because I would know
Eventually, she would feel what I felt
And quite possibly more
And I don't want her to feel what I felt
So I don't think I'll have a daughter
So she doesn't feel what I felt.