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Dior Sep 2015
Mirrors
they crack beneath the weight of my stare
the scrutiny
the hate

Walking, my feet bleed, upon the shards

The shattered remnants of my once-
confident
beautiful-
visage

A mask
porcelain
delicate, yet strong

Now broken.

Always Broken?

Tears run dry.
Reflecting reality
my reality
Dior Sep 2015
I'm sick of being told what to do
I'm sick of being told how to act
I’m not to blame
Your woes are not my fault
The weight is not on my shoulders
And yet,
I carry it.

I don’t understand why you do this
I care so much
You’re throwing away everything
It’s your life,
You’re a loser-
I would tell you, but you it’s too painfully true
I can’t hurt you
I won’t
Let myself
But you,
you hurt me
knife after knife straight to the heart
At the flip of a hat
I, I would drop the world.
You could whisper my name
-no matter the distance-
I would hear.
I shout your name
and you, you run.

You live your trash can life
I stand by and watch

I can hear the loneliness in your voice,
see it in your smile.
Yet, I’m here.
Waiting, always.

You don’t have to hide
or throw yourself away
YOU deserve better,

but so do I.

I won’t take it anymore,
I cant.
I’m done turning the other cheek

Masochism isn’t my ******
no matter how many punches you throw
no matter how many punches I take
I’ll never enjoy it.

I’ll cry for you.
I’ll cry for me.
I cry for us.

I may never forgive
I will never forget
but
I will always love you to the moon and back.
Dior May 2015
Im afraid;
That they will take my emotions
Make me someone that i’m not

I’m afraid;
That they will take my tears and my fears
And turn me into an empty shell

I’m afraid;
That they will take my creativity
That only seems present when I’m not

Flip the switch
and it’ll be off

So will I
It’s all that I’ve got

I’m afraid;
Of what they will do to me
How they will change who I am

I’m afraid;
That I won’t recognize who I become
Will it be me?
Who I should be?
Or will it be a mockery?

I’m afraid,
Of what they will change inside

I’m afraid;
That if I flee from them



I’ll die
Dior Oct 2014
Our eyes met,
My heart stilled
You talked for hours
I listened rapt
Your laugh, I loved
Your smile, I loved
Your lips, I watched

You held me in your arms
We spoke of our lives
Whispered secrets
Counted the stars
You kissed my hair
I touched your chest
You guarded me
warmed me

Shielded from the wind
A fire was ignited
Protected from the cold of loneliness

One sided, short lived
Turned cold, turned back
I didn’t interest you, wasn't enough
I understood, accepted

Friends?

Gone
I reached out, cried out
Crystalline tears
Once warm, Frozen
You left
My heart, you took
I am hollow
Aching;
uncertainty, self-loathing, unworthy,disgusted
Burning for you;
I, am an ember
You, are a tundra
Frozen,
Your soul

My warmth is gone
I am gone
Dior Oct 2014
Can you hear them? The screams.
Turmoil, pain, guilt, shame.
Humanity is lost.
Our souls are as broken as the pavement,
as chipped as the doll’s porcelain face.
We ask questions we deem meaningful;
what are we doing to make a difference?
In a world with souls black as tar, is there a difference to be made?
What will you do when you grow up?
Is it possible to grow up in a world where even the adults are surrounded by toys, spending all day in daycares?
How much money will you make?
Money that will buy you proverbial joy, but will burn with you in a temporal hell
Royal we.
We are doomed. 
Society is dead.
Heathens.
You scoff, you shudder, you fear.
Truth.
Humanity is hedonistic, selfish, sick, broken.
Prehistoric.
Don your black lace, cover your visage with veils; look away from the future for there is no future. Not here, in a world as flat as the screens we see it through.
Flashes and glimpses.
History books,
Juxtapose our worlds.
We are no longer the people of the past;
nor those of the future.
Back in the day.
Get off my lawn.
Laughter.
Caned, Alone, Confused.
Disabled.
What were your parents thinking?

Blame a generation but, who raised them?
Cracked Soul.
Death comes.
We run, where?
Accept your fate.
Humanity is fallen.
The time has come.
Bravery.
Staunch Courage.
Look Death in the face and smirk?
Cut down.
Over.
Souls as black as tar.
Broken like the teapot on the floor.
Liquid, from the cracks.
Your standards.
Who are you?
Doesn’t matter.
End it.
He did.
Tears. Why?
 Humanity is over.
Fallen.
Gone.
Prehistoric.
Dior Oct 2014
The sunken ship has burst its bounds, sheltered in the ebony. 
Carefree smudges and distant pounding endowed the harpy’s song. 
Terrestrial slivers have cost the giant its full stature. 
Its lackluster peers watch, miserly 
At the beauty’s casting up of its final luminous rays, 
Attempting again to catch the lilting air.

— The End —