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Have faith in your aesthetic
I must
You're confident, rock it
I will
*I'm going to be great
When may I start to see beauty in my scars?
How long will it take to reassemble these broken parts?
How will I know when I’m healed enough for love?
And where can I go when the quiet isn’t enough?

Why do I find myself craving something chaotic?
Where do I get off yearning for something toxic?
Where has my anger gone and when will it come back?
Who am I without it? What’s my goal? Where’s my defense?

When will the sun come out on my misery?
Will anyone have me with my ****** up history?
May I ever have peace without a lion’s share of effort?
Will my heart ever emerge from this comfortable desert?
Written January 4, 2022
An uncolourful evanescence of passion,
tarries beneath the surface of your smile.
Though you seem sinful in your beauty,
a frustration fondles your thoughts.
An emotion runs thick through your skin,
and yet,
you act placid, serene.
Like some other worldly angel,
unaffected by the inconvenience of human sentiment.
Fluid, even movements occupy your person,
as if fury calms you,
as if mind and cadaver function impartial to the other.
I long to catch sight of some small imperfection,
but only your dearest may see you sincere.
I'll walk down that hallway
and I'll feel the vibration of the bass
and I'll love that. 
That feeling running up my legs
through my heart 
and into my brain
where it matters. 

And I'll walk through that hallway
even though I'll breath in smoke
and I'll hate that. 
As you blow it in my face,
my anger,
and **** me inside
where it stings.
My best friends laugh.
A beautiful voice on lyrics I aspire to create.
Music, and it's culture.
That new book smell.
When your handwriting just looks good.
Blue-green and light pink, unite.
Candles.
Writing something you're proud of.
My boyfriend's kiss.
Feeling the work-out you did two days ago.
Using ridiculous slang; when someone speaks it back to you.
Documentaries.
The French language.
Conspiracy theories.
Being more than just another sheep.
Growing up.
It was always the possibility
that kept me going
and I should have let you be
and saved us both from this
but at least now we know:
there's closure
where before there was not
that's all I ask for.
A fool's game of willing trust,
lay open on the floor.
A sob for a new and gleeful temperament,
sounds beyond this sullen door.

A harsh release of "foolproof" bonds,
leaves it mark as a scar.
A tattoo of once woven, unbreakable ties,
rests in place of a stolen shard..

of the memories kept fondly,
deep within a chamber,
of words I mistook to be true.
Sorrow I've felt through this heart-wrenching process,
my emotions are scribbled deep blue.
The air will ******* choke you
if you let it. 
Will you? Will you constrain your
zeal, drive, affection and all that
could be tangible
into the span of the atmosphere?
Try freeing your mind,
let it experience what you hold out of reach. 
Don't choke yourself.
The horizon of the city shadowed the stars
arrayed across the windshield in the calm of the evening.
His lips grazed my shoulder when he spoke
his breath was warm on my neck.
He enveloped my whole body
though his arms were sprawled along the seat.
Words exchanged while the eyes relinquished their talents in the darkness
enhancing the touch
the whispers
"kiss my neck."

It was as if the music was from within our souls
pounding through each movement
like the blood pumping ardently through our systems.
Every impulse was impregnated with dubstep
the heat of our bodies was the friction of the melody.

We were the music
a drug, a stimulant.
Ecstasy


Rapt in the haze,
the world dissolved
smearing florid patterns over the windows.
When,
in a kaleidoscopic prism,
he was tangible
yet abstract
in the euphoria,
when we were both present
and far gone,
when
the music
and our bodies
were the only reality,
thats when I understood
absolute
untainted
blissful
happiness.
The curve of his lips fit mine
pull away
hold.
His palm cradles my cheek
lips again
"soft today"
again,
gentle movements.
His hair tickles between my fingers.
His eyes pierce mine with love,
they scream every affection he feels.
Lips.
lips on my nose
cheek
jawbone
eyelid.
Then they utter what only I
will know.
I turn with a smile and close the door.
Let's* just sit on the beach 'til the sun don't shine and feel serene while we drink white wine,
let's take pride in how we spend our days and pray we'll never end this phase.
I like it when a poem is raw;
a diamond in the rough. 
To read the tears as they were
written, not revised
thats ultimate. 
My poetry isn't meant to be
flawless,
its meant to be honest.
Just sit there
and speak of me.
Look at me out of the corner of your eye.
Make yourself
feel better
about your lacking intelligence.
Think
that I care.
Think
that you're affecting me.
Please, continue to practice this skill
that you will carry with you for your lifetime.
Seeing as it the only one you possess
I applaud you for finding it.
But
while you are wasting your time
on things you
think
you're accomplishing.
I am here.
With the one I love.
Perfectly unaffected by your
attempt
at cruel words.
I understand
that you must have some things to sort out,
and that life
doesn't like to follow our plans.
I welcome you to be my bully,
the one I've yet to have.
It's alright you can do that,
I'll last through it
like there's no tomorrow.
BUT do not
expect me to act like we're
cool.
We aren't
okay.
I'm gonna make eye contact with you
every time you look at me.
I can fake laugh too baby,
in your face.
But I saw the tears,
that had to have been relevant.
I mean,
center of attention as always,
but still, they existed.
So when what I did hurt you,
and you found something to laugh at,
found someone to hurt too,
I only felt sad for you.
When what shouldn't matter to you,
did,
I stepped away from it all,
and observed.
BUT you have to now realise,
that I'll fight you for what I want,
because you've made it impossible for me to
let you win.
And no,
he isn't what I want.
I want something more important
than that.
You can have what you let go of if you wish,
good luck convincing him.
I want what you don't deserve,
and I do.
So I'll have it.
Because I know what I want.
Always have.
Liars lie
Disguise ugly with a veil they see as more beautiful
Pleasing
Sometimes, I like liars
One month has passed us.
I know so little about you still
how u think
of me
of life
of now
of later.
I want to show you every part of me,
I still feel that you know too little.
And yet here we sit,
in what might be our first silent treatment.
I don't think I would be mad if it was.
I think I would get it,
agree with it.
Probably.
But this is my poem
thats meant to let you know
that I love you and care,
and that I am going to freak out
when things are pulled a little crazy.
But you matter to me, so it's ok if things get sorta mad hatter once in a while.
Love always,
**S
I wonder how much I’ve forgotten because it wasn’t a shop of horrors.
I wonder if it’s common to have a deep wanting for the one who gave you your many traumas.
I wonder how thrilling the darkness could be if I went back into it again.
I wonder how I can be a victim when I cultivated so much of the excitement.

I wish I could spend some nights with you without opening Pandora’s box.
I wish I could still know you and still love you, but I cannot.
I wish you hadn’t hurt me and hadn’t left me so destroyed.
I wish I could still share you my melancholy and feel so understood.

I feel heartbroken when I think of you as a terrified little boy.
I feel such grief that you were robbed of love before you had a choice.
I feel overcome with loss when I remember our ride or die ethos.
I feel regret that despite my efforts there was just no saving us.

I miss the times we walked along the streets of coloured leaves.
I miss we the way it was to sit in the silence and feel the beauty.
I miss the time we went up north and smiled in the cool of the water.
I miss the music we listened to when we drove, a pair of marauders.

I think the part that hurts the most is mourning it all without you.
I think if I could do it all again I wouldn’t choose to never know you.
I think the time alone I have is well spent when I reflect upon us.
I think I needed to learn from you and our time together, albeit unjust.

I listen to our music from the days we drove along riverside boulevards.
I listen to the words you used to tell me, ringing in my ears, pulling me apart.
I listen for the rev of your motorcycle and the freedom we together felt.
I listen for sounds of peace to come along and save me from myself.

I feel so sad though you’re a street away I can’t just come to see you.
I feel apprehensive when I’m out on the town I might happen upon you.
I feel estranged from the you that you were for yesterday you were a shadow of yourself.
I feel so angry all the time - unrelentingly - there’s nothing else.

I marvel at how often we laughed despite our loneliness and pain.
I marvel at how passionate we were about a love that wasn’t ok.
I marvel at how long it’s been since the memory of you made me cry.
I marvel at how damaged I am from a man who made me so high.
Written January 3, 2022
Companionship;
that's how I would paint it.
You are my companion.
A glowing bow of my heart has bonded to yours
so that when I muse over you
the breathing patterns
of a gentle creature
rising and falling in my chest cavity
create that warm, taxing heat
of a muscle striving a little more arduously
for a dedicated cause.
Thats how it feels
and it feels good.

Sometimes, erratically,
I notice my little creature breathing more keenly
and I wonder,
in those moments,
if it's not your own creature
pondering mine.
That maybe there are small orbs of brilliant light moseying down your spinal cord to caress the soul of that creature,
to tell it our stories
share with it our memories,
and perhaps those brilliant orbs find my little creature too.
Travelling through time and space to chance upon me,
to tell me that you're thinking of me.
This must transpire because of our companionship,
what else could ever justify such majestic happenings in this imperceptible world.
So if it is by virtue of our companionship and because you are my companion
then I am perfectly,
divinely
in affinity with that.
NYC
NYC
So grand I always imagined it,
a city beyond the grasp of realism.
Famous in it's own glory
An entity that survives in the hearts of its citizens.

Stories told by those who's hearts it has claimed
are presented in the notes of our music
the pages of our literature
and screens of our TVs.

They plant a craving in our souls for that which we will never find;
the bar is raised higher than any part of this world could reach.

It was supposed to be breathtaking -- it was supposed to make you cry out with glee and wonder.
Excitement so rooted in a determined fist that no restraints could hold it.
But it wasn't that,
in fact, it was the opposite.
So human it seems wrong
unnatural
underwhelming.

Broadway is just another street
Times Square isn't bright enough
The Statue of Liberty is too small.

And it shouldn't be
that
this city,
the city of all cities,
is
underwhelming.

**We can't blame the city,
it's been in our hearts from the first moment we discovered the world.
I realize that we could never see the city's glory the way it's portrayed
until we've learned to love the city from the inside out
until we experience the soul of the culture
the people
the music
the colours
the art that is New York.

Then Broadway will never be just another street
Times Square will be brighter than our most colourful dreams
and the Statue of Liberty could never be
small.

So now I leave you, New York,
with the promise of a new perspective, philosophy, and appreciation
of what you mean to your people.
The melody smooths over the cracks in my smile
when it shines and gleams through the night.
Sorrows of the past pass a finger over my cheek to remind me of the truths they told,
existing now only in the crevices of my heart.
Bittersweet memories of a love once lost,
meant to live on in a more glorious atmosphere,
dance on my thoughts
like faeries coming alive at dusk.
Honest were the passing moments,
staying only a short while.
So when, from time to time, they turn around and glance back at me
with a gaze of perfect tenderness
I'll grasp their hands and thank them.
It's old pain now;
old truth, none the less.
She piles her hair on top of her head,
a single curl falls,
on her shoulder it rests.

In awe, her sister, with eyes of pale blue,
looks up at the girl,
she wishes she knew.

The girl won't look down as she walks right on by,
tears are now glistening,
in those young pale blue eyes.

The curls bounce gaily,
as she turns her pretty head,
but her sister's already gone back to her bed.

A sound fills the hall of her young sister's cries,
a flow of remorse,
fills her own pale blue eyes.

A stroke of sweet innocence lays in her chest,
but that young girl's kind eyes,
put shame to her best.
In these warm peninsula winds
I’m reminded of driving with you
The leaves colourful on the fields
In those times, we were peaceful too

On those days we were too tired
To carry on the war
So instead we drove in silence
An unspoken armistice unfolding in a car

It wasn’t good and it wasn’t bad
It just was and that was enough
Although you tore me apart through the years
Many times, in a car, we were just us

For too many years gone by
You were the one that I loved
It wasn’t good, it wasn’t healthy,
it wasn’t even real
But to me, you were all that there was

Now these memories live inside me
In places only I can know
Although were I to let you in on it
To you too these moments would be known
Written December 11, 2021
I hope that you regret it,
because all I can hold out for is your apology.
I can't move forward,
I want to remember you kind, not destructive.
Please
don't leave it this way.
I know I look bullet proof
I know I roll like a stone
I know it seems like I can take a punch
I know I look good on my own

And on my worse days
I believe it too
I don’t mind
Being a punching bag
I can take it all
On my worse days

What is strength anyway?
Written January 7, 2022
I feel a foreign insecurity
washing over me
comes in waves;
the ground is moving under my feet

I feel off balance
my skin feels wrong;
am I dissociating?
am I just raw?

That girl I was
seems dead and gone
I need a revival

but I can’t bear it
it all feels false

I’ll don my silver hoops
and my top knot;
put on my velvet shoes
pretend I’m hot

But it won’t do
this **** I’m used to;
acting ghostly
to hide the black and blue

I’m so ****** divided
between 17 and 43
it left a hole in me
and that’s where I’m tryna be
now

To fill myself up
fill my own needs;
stop thinkin ‘bout you
and think about me

Learn to love me;
learn to lift me;
learn to hold me;
learn to carry me
intentionally

I’ve been strong
and now I’m broken, I guess
that’s what happens
when he’s an adult
and you were a kid
Written November 23, 2021
“I’ve had enough pain for a lifetime.”

She’ll hurt again,
no doubt,
but maybe she won’t go looking for it this time.

She was the storm chaser
proving her strength
to none but herself.

“The bigger, the badder, the better.”

Now she relates more to soldiers
than she could to anyone intact.
Flashbacks abound,
she’s what you might call a damaged girl.

Maybe it’s low self worth;
maybe she’s stubborn as hell;
maybe she only feels her power
when she’s at war.

“Oh fuckity ****!”

She’s so broken now;
she’s so sad now;
she’s so afraid now.
“I think I’m broken now.”

Who broke this storm chaser?

It’s a feat to scare the fearless;
it’s a talent to break the strong.
You should be proud of yourself:
you’re a special kind of *******
if “you broke the storm chaser.”
Written December 7, 2021
Sun streaked rain droplets
biding their time on the eyes of this train
Soon they'll dry
and be gone for today
But tomorrow will come anew
with sun streaked rain droplets
Stop crying, stupid girl
it's for the self-pitied and the weak
your time for weeping is done
now get back on your feet.

Stop crying, stupid girl
no harm has been inflicted on you
continue to wear that heart on your sleeve
send me a letter from where it gets you.

Stop crying, stupid girl
its much to far away
to dwell on things that can't be changed
it's a game only fools will play.

Stop crying, stupid girl
and look into the reflection
you know that this girl isn't you
now, bring yourself back to perfection.
"Talk to you soon" 
goodbye for now. 
But when is soon? 
Soon by my standards,
or yours?
Soon enough that light will last
from our last
'til the next?
How long until you'll kiss my neck again?
Will my tired heart last the span of absence until then?
"Talk to you soon, I love you"
I felt calm then
all noise seized, and calm settled in.
The grass was bright,
I was alone.
The leaves were colour when they rustled
under my feet.
And I took a moment
And I looked around
And saw the life I was in.
Appreciated what I'm in control of,
and simply smiled at what I'm not.
I'm having a moment
that I don't wish to return to
but that doesn't make me want to run
away.
I feel mild pain in my heart
but I'm confident that I can bear through it.
Every second: feel less.
It's such a nice day
the kind you want to feel good in
a walk would be lovely.
If only I had the time,
my heart needs the time.
At once I look behind me with self-hatred and longing,
Because it was beautiful when you broke me.
Who knew that devastation could happen in vivid colour;
Sensual, electric, intoxicating

You fed me blood and I craved it
We were vampires creeping the streets at night
Afraid of daylight, you had me pale and thin
Elusive, invisible to those who once knew me

So why do I wail over the loss of this torment?

I drink fresh spring water now,
I have peace and it is a relief;
Yet your fingers still play songs of yearning on my heartstrings

Will I ever feel such violence again?
Written August 23, 2021
Streaming through your chest,
is a whirlpool of endlessness,
an endlessness of possibility,
a possibility of feeling.

A feeling which lifts you high,
from the world the eye sees,
the eye sees the bitter life,
bitter life of sheep-like people.

Sheep-like people move along,
through a twisted vicious circle,
a vicious circle created by the sly,
the sly foxes who play for gain.

But gain by play you don't,
for you see past all the nonsense,
nonsense is the name of the game,
the game that you won't play.

You won't play, you won't be herded,
for in your chest there's a whirlpool,
a deep heavy whirlpool of endlessness,
an endlessness of wise awareness.
I dreamt of you last night
The way we talked easily
I dreamt of you last night
Your lips, they almost had me

What is it about you?
Stirs my deepest core
What is it about you?
Drove me to give up more and more

I could walk down the street
I could knock on your door
I could walk down the street
Let you have me once more

Nothing’s beat it yet
The way you touched my body
Nothing’s beat it yet
Intimacy that was also camaraderie

I think you ruined me
Won’t find that violence again
I think you ruined me
I don’t rest, I can’t see, it won’t end

In this moment I don’t hate you
Might even say I miss you
In this moment I don’t hate you
Might even say I loved you

I’m better now
But I miss the war
I’m better now
Won’t go back, I swore

How sick am I?
Want you to rip me apart
How sick am I?
You might still have my heart

Maybe I’m just lonely
Body is buzzing for your touch
Maybe I’m just lonely
One night wouldn’t be too much

You hurt me badly
But I haven’t had enough
You hurt me badly
I still crave you loving me rough

I crave a gentle love
Often you did that too
I crave a gentle love
Mind to mind, we were one from two

I need a surrender
And I think you would be a fight
I need a surrender
So you’ll get only my mind this night
Written January 3, 2022
What has the world become,
when zombies have jumped out of their TV screens.
Faces of men in the streets of Miami,
have been gnawed off by human teeth.

Bath salts empower the mind.

And now "zombie" is dead;
shooters introduced him to his grave.
Do they have that right?

Sweet world, there are sinister things living within your confines.

— The End —