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A day off from school, and nothing to do.
So here goes nothing, another letter to you.

words uttered and regretted
but silent still-
just ghosting by,
leaving no kind of trail.

a series of letters,
you somehow bother to read.
a lack of responses,
to which I have "no need".

A dull sort of pattern:
lines and spaces-
ink and not-
yet with so much meaning,
that the world has forgot.

still, they drift off
some grow heavy, and sink straight in.
reluctantly fleeting,
cover blown.
Whispers heard.
All senses now, on full alert.
Wanting a reply, but not at such a cost.
Knowing I am undeserving,
yet deserving of all the loss.

A dull sort of kindness.
an unsugarcoated truth.
I can't help but wish,
I wasn't a disappointment to you.

I can't help but bother,
wishing you wouldn't even dare.
giving words such meaning-
even words such as "care".

I am a sad kind of poet-
yet most never know it.

Just that kid in the corner.
dark room,
never known her.

Others, how they claim to know me-
But my sculpted facade,
hand designed-
by the clear streak of tragedy.
that is all they see.

Center of attention.
laughed at, and never with.
Respect my form of hiding.
It is all I have left.

Shape me, & mold me.
ground me down-
stand me up-
Dusted remnants standing still.
Blinks and stares,
tear through the silent air.

A shake of annoyance.
A twist of my neck.
"can't you see this isn't you?"-
"how dare you think like that."-

You're right.
It's not me.-
As cliché, as that may be.

A puppet at your service-
Fix the outside.
Top performance so they say.
But just one look inside,
and not a single light of day
rusted metal, grit, & oil.  

Fix the strings,
of most importance.
Once broken, soon brand new.
Nice firm tug.
just to Test Performance-
Aesthetics
Appeasing Quality
Of course, Don't you see?

Why of course not,
I would never hurt you.

Tug 'n tighten. Pull the cord.
until the collar stills no more.
Too numb to feel it, Tired & Tried.
Drug back against my will-
Fighting just to close my eyes.

One door closes, another one opens.
keep them both closed.-
Can't you listen?
Too much noise.
I can't stand it.
The door stills. Oh, for a moment-
but is yanked free.
The laws of nature,
so kindly ignoring my only plea.

Reality's firm grip on that cold handle.
Never giving.
Never quelling.

The only note of my existence,
forcing me to note such memories.

They flood back in,
through hidden doors.
Seeking refuge,
from places once stored.
The door always locked-
.. oh so long before.
Now open, mocking.
Here to settle the only score.-
The only thing bothered to be accounted for.

Revamp this puppet,
play my strings.
Gears groan from overuse.
Oil thinning, straight to thin.
Disappearing from existence,-
getting lost too deep within.
Gears grind in dissatisfaction.
Angrily forced to play along-
with such a sad,
unheard,
unforgiving song.

Giving in. Giving up.
Finally, to the abuse.
Just my luck, so lost and alone.
Doing this all, on my very own.

Don't touch me.
I can't take it.
Dizzied from the noxious fumes-
the memories spit back,
toxic to my wounds.

Never resting
always scared
of what lurks "right over there".
Childish fears never quite disappeared.
Gruesome company.
to one already so lonely.

So she slips down the hallway,
hair covering her eyes.
Nervous & skittish,-
Her hearing on overdrive.
One last glance over her shoulder
before slipping just inside
Sliding down,
echoes resound.
Cold tile, sniffling nose.
Vaguely aware of the chill spreading in her toes.

Arms crossed tight, protecting what's left of within-
Reminiscent, barely so
of just one missing, true friend.

Finally safe, my breathing escapes.
paper full,
pen in hand,
smears of ink-
just some peculiar squiggles.
Lines stilled, spaces dots
Dashed & Dotted.
Ink & Not.

My mark on this world,
One that can't be forgot.
Time frozen in place-
A gift for me, that you can't seem to see.

You walk right on past.
Reluctantly so,
sneaking glances through the glass.
Everknowing of my presence,
& that I hide myself away.
To you it is a dark corner.
Not a haven, a place to gather my thoughts.
Sorth them out & string them along-
until I reach the coherency of a single thought.

Peace at last,
my mind can rest.
Demons at bay,
no silent regrets.

Oh me?
I'm just that kid in the corner.
Dark room,
you've never known her.

A sad poet I may be-
But sad to you, isn't sad to me.
A mere relief.
My saving grace.
Just one of the pieces, I choose to embrace.

But that is that.
And I am me.

not quite as wrong, as the world fathoms me to be.
Really long. I'm sorry. had a lot to say.
I wrote you a love letter

It was all dolled up

Pretty words to
make you fall in love

Some parts dangled
With the charm of
golden bling

Then another part
you could smell
the lather of my skin

But I didn't stop there

I conjured up cupid

Then wrote your name
in blood and burnt it

Placed the ashes in a honey jar
with lavender and rose

Whispered your name 69 times
under a blue red moon

Now
I watch you in my crystal ball
and wait for you to come to me
https://soundcloud.com/ladyofire/rose-quartz
Dysfunctional families
Gather together
In crises
Like fallen leaves
At the base
Of the family tree
In a hurricane
The constant churning
Charades
Keeping up appearances
Wasting
Precious resources
Lives
Cast to the
Wind
As Hurricane Matthew barrels down on Florida I was thinking of how some of us will come together while others ...
Governments fall from sheer indifference.
Authority figures, deprived of the vampiric energy they **** off their constituents, are seen for what they are: dead empty masks manipulated by computers. And what is behind the computers? Remote control. Of course. Look at the prison you are in, we are all in. This is a penal colony that is now a Death Camp. Place of the Second and Final Death. Desperation is the raw material of drastic change. Only those who can leave behind everything they have ever believed in can hope to escape. Don’t intend to be there when this ******* goes up. Nothing here now but the recordings. Shut them off, they are as radioactive as an old joke…
from The Western Lands (1988) by William S. Burroughs.

https://connecthook.wordpress.com/2016/10/07/material-seven-souls/

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