Bom bom
Bom bom
Bom bom
frantic beats in the dark of the night
no light
in sight. my heart beats
Bom bom
Bom bom
Bom bom
take me away fairy duster of thoughts
with your promises of
fairy tales and god mothers
with wands. my heart beats
Bom bom
Bom bom
Bom bom
quickens. the footsteps in my ears
echoes through my head
the dread
of a life of shouts, terrors, drained beer bottles
with napkin coozies.
Bombom
Bombom
Bombom
my heart beat quickens.
i won't be you with your needles and your lines
and your maybe next times
your promises and failures
your ***** *** 60 dollar trailers.
i'm not your ***** OR your daughter
not your plastic little dolly
i ain't here to give your life a reason
to help you pass the seasons.
i'm a woman, a mother,
not a **** under covers
i'm no coward or saint
with every gosh **** word I paint
a reason, a rhyme
a purpose for time
to escape your thumb
your legacy
your guilt and tragedy.

Bom bom
Bom bom
Bom bom

My heart beats a drum
Like the wings of a bird
Carrying away the pain of yesterday.
My heart beats.

Sometimes I think I'm crazy, lost in my head, spiraling downward in a world of cynicism and faded darkness-
but I'm not crazy.
Those are definitely two little pink lines
lines that scream life
lines that scream be  scared  because  you're  not  alone  anymore­
....lines that say hey  mama....

Sometimes I think I'm crazy
but now I just think this is crazy.

I got your facebook message that wasn't even sent to me. You
lost me long before you sidestepped our
friendship.
Maybe
it was that time you had *** with a stranger while I was sleeping next to you
on the same bed.

on the same bed

Or maybe
it was that time that you said you'd DD but
got too drunk to walk
leaving me to drive                             drunk

I got your attempt at reaching out. Your feeble mind's endeavor to taint my life with your existence. At one point in time
you were my best friend and I
did anything and everything for you. Even sit, or rather, lie by
while you ***** the whole city.

I got your letter and
I'm not interested. I'm
not interested in living a life where you're of involvement.
A life where I worry about your well being all the time
and forget about my own. I don't want you
and I don't want what you offer.

I loved you. My Kayci and the Sunshine band. You were it.
No more searching for friend soul mates
because I found mine.
Then you took a knife and you ****** it in my back with all your weight til I ached deep in my bones and to the bottom of my heart
bleeding the remnants of you. You're a virus
a *succubus
draining the lives of the ignorant fools dumb enough to care about your whims.

I was an ignorant fool.
If I could rip up your pathetic facebook attempt, I would.
Maybe I'll print it just so that I can find
satisfaction.

You're 26.
Start acting like it.

You're slipping baby girl
you're slipping from my reach,
my fingers straining to keep a grip on the thread that holds us together
while I slur my frightened speech.
You're slipping baby girl
into the farthest beyond,
a space where your light dims
and from which this eternal darkness without you spawned.
You're slipping my dearest and sweetest baby girl
to a place where dead trees live and hearts are cold,
where winter's chill falls upon us all
and desperation sinks into our skin and takes its hold.

Like fangs sinking deep into captured flesh
the reality of losing you stills my breath.

I ache for you to make me whole
to return to me the heart you stole.

This mirror is the only thing between us
as it's me that's slipped away,
and the darkness has taken over
it's come, it's conquered, it's here to stay.
So goodbye baby girl,
we are just a shell.
No longer the lively woman
but a desperate soul roaming freely in hell.

It was good while it lasted,
**my sweet baby girl.

I found out that Taylor Swift wrote off country music today.
At times I wonder, who do we think we are?
Owner of our own hearts?
Sinkers of ships?
Destroyers of dreams?
Children of destiny?

My name's Monica and I don't own my heart.
I borrowed someone else's though and he's quite kind to mine in return.
I don't sink ships unless I have to and I'd never give up country music no matter who I thought I changed into.
I laugh too loud and I spend too much money of coffee, energy drinks, and boba smoothies.
Honestly, I could use a real makeover.
I try my best not to destroy dreams
but I find myself clinging to the thought of fate and destiny as much as the next cheesy romantic.
I cry too loud, too much and too often.
God has a special place in his heart for people like me.
I crave attention but only sometimes and it's usually accompanied by a dull ache in my chest.
I'll get back to you when I come to a conclusion on what that is.
I don't say "no" to a cold one at the end of a long day.
Sometimes -and this one is embarrassing- I yell back at the guests when they yell at me.
(I may be in customer service, but that doesn't make me a verbal punching bag.)
I've got issues and attitude and an inability to stop putting myself down.

Who do we think we are?
Everyday I change my mind.
But not about country.
Taylor, what were you thinking?

Sometimes I see familiarity in strangers as they pass, going about their lives in oblivion. I feel a ***** of nostalgia as ocean waves of memory collapse my breathing lungs, seizing them into a fit of painful gasps and muscle spasms.
In. Out. In. Out.
I breathe in the exhaust fumes and grind my feet firmly into the now. Smell the wind, feel the sun beating relentlessly on my bare skin.
It's just a memory, but those eyes held the same darkness I once saw, a long time ago in a plane of desperation and fear. The sweat would bead on my forehead as his fury wrapped around me like a blanket of suffocation.

Sometimes my stomach falls out my **** and my heart hitches in my throat. Sometimes I think I'll die from the lack of oxygen and my entire existence will cease and slip into meaninglessness and THEN.... then I remember I'm not your pawn anymore. I'm not your effing punching bag and I DO mean something. I am SOMEONE. A good someone. A WORTHY someone. Not your nothing. Because I am my own now. I love me even if you never did.

Now I walk with my head high, a purpose. A reason. Because I'm no longer your nothing.

You're like sheer fabric
  the way your smile can't hide your bleeding heart,
you used to know love.

Some people walk with their heads so high and their hearts guarded by 30 foot walls topped with barbed wire fences
that you'd mistake them for being put together.
  What you don't see is the devastation behind the giant structures
the reason for hiding
and complete fear just behind the surface of their eyes.
  They're like windows to the soul, we're told,
the seeing glass to the ocean beneath the surface
rolling with it's tempestuous waves,
lying to surface the depths of pain caused by memories passed.

You're like the books I like to read,
deep in their conflicts and swirling emotions
swimming in the complexities of their fight for will.
  You're a resolution in yourself
you just don't know it yet.

You're like the fabrics I sew and the cards I make.
You're like glass,
I see right through you.
  Even through your laughter, the same one that hides your tears.