This cigarette is barley a source of serenity. Smoke doesn't taste sweet and hits aren't releasing anxiety.  Tonight I look up to see stars and stars are absently replaced with only troubled gray tones and foggy clouds. Locked away thoughts streaming together are brought out.

Like one giant psychologically damaging moving that's so disgustingly beautiful it's as though it's a train wrecks in effect that you refuse to look away from.

Im examining trees with dark branches twisting and winding in erie beauty. Tonight  I think of people close to me and try to believe that they weren't all the death of me. That hard times didn't come to me subjectively but faithfully.

I hate when my heart pounds because questioning humanity overwhelms me. And sadness always seems to hit me like a ton of bricks and I feel naked or exposed as everything everyone doesn't want me to be.

Wanting to not be dictated by my  past but also wishing I had the ability to go back and alter those  memories that turned my heart from crimson to black.

I want nothing more then to look into his eyes and let my heart go. To not question if you will be the one to officially shatter this fragile soul. I used to think I could see myself crystal clear. That I was so absent from being discrete my eyes shown like glossy glass that caused exposed fragility surrounding auras atmosphere.  

But this constant battle of mental stability has had my conscious slipping on black ice. And the problem with trying to keep up this wall is that I am to transparent of a person to let my minds memories sacrifice.

The good bad and ugly are all one trifecta of chaotic beauty, and as they say pain and beauty are one in the same. It's seems sometime that I'm a pawn in gods inevitable game.

And this whole idea that I can reach my full potential only day is slowly starting to stay away. But **** I hate the idea I'm not so ******* sweet and innocent as I used to be back in younger days.

When optimism wasn't questioned and glasses were always half full of happy energy and not half empty of liquor used to hold everything together. Sobriety hasn't been a friend iv had close to my heart lately and that girl isn't me but the image of my pain that hopefully won't be around forever.

Friends and family don't know what it's like to look at those stars and be searching for someone who has been taken up in that divine infinity. That the mystery of what resides above isn't myth and that one day we will all be looking down and trying to get through to that one special person staring up that they actually are there with me.

Time heals but it is also moving back words. Having time lines only show that there is ultimately an end but there is something calming In that as well as worried concerns.

That maybe when you have nights where a cigarette doesn't taste so sweet or you can't see the stars, it only shows you that what hasn't killed can make you stronger in turn.

Emily A. Grande

The sting it stays and hurts and burns. Heart is thumping intentions are cursed.

Innocence lost in mindful bliss. Winking at sin with tempting kiss.

Upon my lips the bitterness teases. Should be bothersome but only pleases.

Blood is rushing hot and bothered. This feelings exactly what iv wanted.

Teeth and skin they sweat and chatter. Pulses of pleasure please and rattle.  

My minds escape just beginning to get started. Tongue is tight from craving water.

Saying no should have been easier this time. But being caught in the moment continues inhaling of lines.

Flick, breathe in, exhale, watch smoke. This addiction is familiar the most. The combinations of mixed substances are making me choke.

Feelings heightened and free are only temporary. Coming down has been to realistic and scary.

Shaking and sore until your trapped in your head. Unable to sleep or gain peace in your bed.

Caught being dead and awake in one body. This has been the downfall of preferring to stay faulty.

And for the first time in a while it showed me with surprise. Being sober was a high of my most preferred kind.


Emily A. Grande

The glasses you peer over have lenses thick but entice the people you want to discover and do not change the fact you can stare into their souls.

Retrieve their hardships and feel them as your own.

Your words flow with truth even when truth is something you haven't been given opportunity to ever know.

There is beauty in a tortured soul and from that thrives like vines with tangled mind and suddenly you have managed to gain some mental control.

Auras of green yellow and pink like changing leaves that fall only when your internal seasons have to release the memories burst like a gust of wind craving to be exposed.

But this, my giving tree, is the beauty I need you so see and not dispose.
That when you write it's like planting an impact in someone's mind and allowing it to grow.

Smoke of cowboys killers and vices of late night talks and wonderful company. Have honestly helped me create the person I can allow myself to be.

The saddest thing I have seen was when you sealed that envelope. Put it in that mailbox and we drove down the road. Leaving behind your past pain from years of hindered hope.

As your story on your shoulder says you are always a free soul. And helped me discover the meaning of hope. And I want you to know how much you mean to me. That together we bind through our ideas of humanity.

You thought me to tap into my darkest through rhythmic repetitive jabs at my temples. And revived the only person I didn't know I could resemble.

So this family tree your now apart of can only be determined improved. And my sister is how now I'll always think of you.


Emily A. Grande

And as I walk away in that familiar rain I feel as though I am floating on a dark cloud accompanied by erie silent screams ringing loud. I want the water to douse me of my imperfections but my imperfections are just that of the falling Water. And as I think of you and your skin close to mine I realized that this lie has taken something special from my heart this time.

The pavement is cold and dark shadows induce thoughts that cause bliss to turn from amber to black and not even cigarettes can help me get my dignity back. That tiny tube of rolled hope that's  hits heavy on lungs like the dry heaving of guilt sitting on shoulders before relaxed.

And in my mind the clock ticks with silent echoes of aches and hidden secrets. Feeling helpless of my own discreet indiscretions on sheets of passions burning crimson red like a letter stamped on smooth with devastating  costs at best.

I am  traveling in the valleys of my mind with only forks in the road and destinies map has become blurred with perceptions of flashing cars and road trips at large.

Thinking of my old soul is like missing a step in the dark with anticipated acceptance that false awareness is still marked. And as I look down that familiar road I see only streetlights paving the way to clichés home embarked.

This routine has my mind high like always and honesty has become two faced. Is this idea deceptive of my own memories or have I built tiny walls around this beating cause of my pulse to race?

Once again I am captured in bed looking through broken blinds reminiscing about newly discovered cluttered minds. But guilt and satisfaction are becoming a common  bind.

And as god as my whiteness let me accept this sign. That when anticipating hope has no faith to bestow, it's time to continue on making decisions judgement of others chose.

Emily A. Grande

"The pain is here, it’s real, it’s new.

I thought I knew who I was talking to.

Darkness resides heavy in my heart.
Just waiting for sincere healing to start.

The fire was real and I fueled the flame.

So guilty I’ve been carrying this pain.

Being a prisoner trapped in my own mind.
This high’s all I wish to feel this time.

So sad, so strong, so weak and true.
Slow songs induce strange thoughts of you.

Not common or right for binding me to insanity.

Oh how my veins pulse with this conflicting tragedy.

Hard times of each life are unfortunately common.
Why the **** do I feel so unnatural and bothered?

True, I had invited that feeling so fake that it’s real,

but only Satan’s heart could feel.

The crack of light in the darkest of indiscretion.
Hope sin won’t taint skin and take over my soul’s possession.

Memory is faulty and haunts my mind.

I want no one to be a victim of my kind.

What happened that night follows me around.

I will no longer stand back or bow down.

For these people who lie and cheat and steal.
Innocence taken only for fast thrill.

Hope of forgiveness grips my mind.

Just wanted to feel more than fake sincere of some kind.


The roots they can’t unwind this time.

Still…I sit, I wonder, I wait.

If one day I will escape this twisted discovery of fate.

So gripping, so chilling, so ghostly I subconsciously feel.
What makes this purpose of life so real?

And yet, I thrive in the hurt of deceptive captivism.

Still it leaves me tangled in bitter cynicism.

To decipher what feelings are true and sincere,

For tragic time has dragged me down, my dear.

For each soul not to to see what I see in a day.

So blissful and unaware in their mind’s they will stay.

The heart it beats without time in mind.

Wish others could see things on my side.

This kind of thinking isn’t simple or plain. 

Everyone else seems stuck in this game.


Of greed and lust and experience to blame.
Spiders only weave webs of shame. 

This dangerous adventure has many to claim.


Hypocrites have only themselves to blame.

As I realize this life I’ve continuously made,

Memories of sadness get locked away.
Healing begins and time takes charge,

Of keeping the soul you recognize at large.

And one only knows how far that goes.
To each other’s own personal experience we toast.

To the keeping of safe things around to stay.

Hoping for those demons to just stay away.


But simplicity of shame has no beginning or end,

To staying indefinitely happy forever my friend.

This idea has sparks that your conscious mind ignites.
To crave staying out of the darkest of times.

Your mind will spin and won’t win at first.

Playing tricks through your darkest treats that leave burns.

Scratch and itch until these marks bleed.

This method of recovery doesn’t work it seems.

Leaving scars seen only through subjective time.

That taunt until your hinges unwind.

Consistency in mentality is major, it’s crucial for change.
Taken aback by simply just hearing his name.

My identity tainted, shocked and shaken.
What has this occurrence ended up taking?

Not the love I wanted.

So unrealistic, yet I can feel, 

That after carful recovery my insecurities will yield.


That light in the end can draw back my shield.
That this shadow uplifts and leaves me for real.

Medication of mind is found only through time,

Through genuine acts of someone truly kind.

Souls slowly die when they question hopeful living.

My sincerest apologies for the lies I’ve been giving.

It’s a cover, a mask, and the truth of pain.

I refuse to stay stuck in this cycle of shame.

Stay strong.
They say that’s all you can do.


And true as this is, I’m still stuck thinking of you.

That night is over and so is this blame.
Sometime I believe I will be able to tame,

These thoughts that flow so easy to spark,

cannot **** my faith in humanity to start.


I refuse to give up on this battered heart.

I will not become what I fear in my most secret confidential.
One who only sees light in the shadows and ignores what is stressful,.

Through highs and excuses I will no let them take,

That piece of my heart I’v trying to wake.

Though struggles seem unavoidable and consistently collected. 

I truly do not want this free spirit caged and affected.


This stand of my emotional recovery is not of physical kind.
This healing begins with the true detox of my mind.

As I end on the note of freeing of my soul.

I hope this helps others who want to console. 


The heart they knew and wanted to keep.

There is undiscovered hope for you and as well as me.

So take these words as a binding contract.
That cleaning of wounds only reach pains surface.


That believing in reaching that once discovered place,

though damaged and battered is still accessible to face.

Easy satisfaction and crossroads emerge.
I was easily one to allow the temptation to purge. 


In sins that are quick and easy to explain.
This will not help but add to each pain.

Listening to others tell of their relatable mistakes.

Only add to our internal blames.


And conclude the point of truth and pain.

Advice refuses credibility once harsh realization is triggered,

The angel on your shoulder only begins to shiver.


Will power and self esteem being to wither,

and trust can’t help but to surrender and quiver.

Every profoundly denied claim being kept locked away,

Comes clean and draws free to cause damning dismay.

Worst part is knowing this ideas been exposed and hindered

Also tainted by reality my soul will forever carry this pain with her.


Admitting the second it surfaced it was what I had subconsciously figured.

This must be forgotten and thrown away.
The business of the mind must retain a stance to not play.


With ideas that settling on perceptions of others is craved,

And the idea a veiled mindset is what should be portrayed.

The strongest hearts beat to sounds of their own drum,

Flying freely above others actions that stung.


Still keeping in mind humanity in other kinds, 

And believing they can soften others relatable pain that binds.

And this I have to know is true.

Because it takes just one soul to have faith in you.


It’s the strongest of souls bitter sweetly kept insane.

And believe, after time, life can be beautiful once again."

Take inhibitions away and embrace artificial drunkenness.
who knew I'd ever be involved in this.

Perceptions are tainted by my mind and from others,
but we condone by letting collective anxiety recover.

With flower and wax and fire and smoke.
Seems not to be the road we had hoped.

The road is winding, oh that we know,
but staying bound by function is our favorite act to bestow.

On friends and family who don't have a clue,
who we are because it's safer for you.

It's the shoulder holding temptation with sweet whispers of sin,
Which got a hold of my morals and changed this sweet kid.

My blame is this mind...

So curious but never shy.
So things I swore off I decided try.

Regret and relieve can go hand in hand.
So curious are those who fail to understand.

When decisions are made it is never done by chance.

Weakly balancing on split tracks.
Please don't look at me like that.

Judgement returns my while insecurities are sold.
Heat can sometimes burn too cold.

The fire played with holds my mind tight.
Trapped inside it dims my own light.

Wanting the pain that hurts so good.
Doing things I don't want to think I should.

To those little moments of being pulled away by time.
Forgetting the conscious that draws clear lines.

Between quick satisfaction as the heart runs wild, and choosing satisfactions lasting longer than fake smiles.

I think I need to run away for a while.

I need you to hear me out this time.
While holding together my severed spine.

Time to start  keeping discretion in mind.

A mind open without haze, struggles or stories.
To see what can hold true in faiths controversial glory.