Am I the only one that has their demons feasting upon their souls?
They say it is easy to tie a noose around your mind,
To overcome the urges and temptations of ending your life with a suicide
They don't know the true pain and torment that is going on in my head
An epic battle that leaves me with restless nights in bed
"End your life already" they say, as they prey on me during my weakest hours
Sometimes I give into the voices, carrying the sharp blade to my wrist
Crying as I struggle to mutter three powerful words that keeps me going
Choking on my sobs, my lungs deflate with a desire to say that God loves me
I try to convince myself that God is trying to test my faith
And to just wait, wait and wait
Then my Demons will eventually go AWAY.....



~Imperfect Desire **

She read my journal
My internal thoughts spewed out of her mouth like *****.
Anger. Regret.

I saw him as a book then
And he was easily read
Flipping through his memories, I found tainted history
Tears

Oh, woe is me
this girl, she knows everything.
My incestuous mind
unkind and dark
genuinely written without hesitation

Yet here I stand
Confused, taken aback
Stricken with...
...curiosity, perhaps
Sadness and unknowing
And his eyes apologize while his frown regrets

Perhaps she now feels closer.
There's nothing to hide inside
A relief.
I am disgusted by your actions.

I wonder if he still loves me
He won't take the words back
Ink never erases, and scars remain
And so does my heart
Rooted to my sleeve yet chained to his palm

"I'm sorry", I forget to say
Words so typical end up filling the room
breaking all glass
You made me like this
my words are a byproduct of your insanity
You're sad.
Yes, sad. We are all sad.
You are not entitled to read such things
wretch

I peered into your soul today
Something twisted and half alive
Fault?
A face, my face to place blame
I'll never walk away
Without another war wound
But I'll bleed you dry
Should I question morality? Am I human?
What happened to us?

You seek knowledge, yet cower in its presence
" all loving" I mock the idea
for you despise my words.
My work.
What are they, but a part of me?
Your voice is timid
Your despair, unsettling..
speak

Silence is all I want to hear anymore...

Benign, benevolent ballerina bubbly bathing by beautiful blossoming balsams.

A gander I took and I was a statue, still, allured, and enchanted. my lips basted by beauty, before her I was an apparition, lost in forests of adulation.

A vanishing spirit soon to be a vestige of a vestige. I shall wage wars, arm myself and battle my way to her hands that can melt the glaciers residing in my heart.

To feel blank,
Tasting a bland substance
Staring into nothingness
No room to ponder
Suppressing limits
Failing emotion and
Breathing follows up to a
Slow apathetic pace--
How I've grown fatigued of it.

Sometimes I wonder why things happen
i know i have a good life
i do.

but i know that I'm not alright always
and its because people leave
and they don't come back

i was little when you left
so I've always been broken
but when you meet someone who knows this
you think they can't break you like that

you couldn't survive another break

then it happens

To write food in the stomach
Of every hungry child.

To spell war as peace,
Metaphorize flowers into the barrel

Of every gun on Earth.
The poet has responsibilities

Beyond those of mothers,
Of kings and presidents.

I refuse to give up hope;  
This could be a poem world.

Come on, write your worst piece
Of literature.

Even misprints may give other
Meanings to a word,

Write me a green sky, blue dirt,
Trees the colour of air.

Sometimes the best poets
Have the least to say,

So keep writing, write until your
Fingers fall asleep.

Write until you havent slept
For weeks in search of that word,

That one right word,
Then rest on a notebook pillow

And dream the world right.
Write the world right.

There is no such thing as
Wasted poetry.