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Jessie Nov 2010
I've lost count how many times
You said you were
Sorry,
Or how many times
I lied,
Telling you I forgive you,
Just to
Stop
Hearing
Your
Venomous voice.

My first physical connection with a man
Was simply you
Injecting your
Parasitic poison
Into me

And,
No matter how many times I break my skin,
And try to bleed it out,
The poison still flows through my veins--
Slowly killing the heart you broke,
And filling my brain with
The insanity I take pills every day
To try to
Ignore.

The only revenge I seem to have have
Is that guilt you claim to feel.

I know I should be happy
You're "doing better"
But to be perfectly honest,
I would be much happier
Watching you
Suffer as I have.

The god you claimed to serve
Was not the god you really worshiped--
The man you saw everyday when you
Looked in your mirror to
Shave your face with
That expensive electric razor
I bought you for your birthday.

I always knew you were lying when
You told me you loved me.
But, I understand now
That you were lying more to yourself
Than you were to me.

We couldn't fix each other,
And secretly, we both knew
We weren't even trying--
We were just trying to use each other
To get by in a world
Where ****** up people like us
Simply couldn't fit in
With everyone else.

But none of that matters.
What matters is now,
And now,
I am relieved that I will never
Have to see you again

Because in my mind,
I can sit, watching you
Writhing in pain
From the remorse I hope you feel,

And ask my new boyfriend
To pass me the popcorn.
For someone who will probably never read this.
Jessie Nov 2010
redredredred


:+:twinkle:+:
:+:twinkl­e:+:
-little-
st---


starlight,
star...bright?--
first star--
I see tonight--

i wish
.
i may
.
i wish
.
i might
.
.
.

have

[your]
wish
tonight.


(
SETMEFREE*)


i don't really feel anything you know--

just
the

searing burn
of the branding iron pressed against
my heart
before my ribcage is put back together--
like a little puzzle to be solved--
like a clock taken apart--*


just get it over with
and leave me be.
stars are prettier than lines.

Emily Dickinson was my shoulder angel when I wrote this.
Jessie Nov 2010
There is a white hot flame that burns in my chest,
Boiling my blood,
Sending bubbles to my fingertips.
I pop them, one by one, on your skin.

I'm drowning in this blazing ocean,
Reaching out for your touch,
Feeling the flames consume my body,
But I'm only grasping air.

Can you not see this water rising,
Filling my lungs, and bringing me down?
Do you not see my hands reaching out to yours?

I see you standing on the beach,
Looking out to the stars,
I know you see them,
But is it really too dark to see me?
Jessie Nov 2010
I think I broke a poor boy's heart today.
I guess that's all there really is to say.
iambic pentameter, how i love thee...
Jessie Nov 2010
I live each day on this tightrope--
Teetering back and forth,
Knowing that at any moment,
I could stumble and
F
a
  l
   l
    d
     o
      w
       n
        .
         .
          .

If I try my best to
Stay
Very
Still
I will never get to the other side.

But if I take one step forward,
I will fall.

I know I will,
For I have always been a clumsy person--
On the inside
And the outside.

My legs are shaking,
My arms keep swinging wildly

Up      
      and
Down,

Up      
      and
Down

Don't fall don't fall don't fall!!


Why am I even here in the first place?
I don't remember how I got here,
I don't know where I came from...
(Where the hell am I even going?)

So here I am,
Trying my best to keep my
Balance,  and wondering

If falling is really
Such a bad thing.
Jessie Nov 2010
Look at me.
Look at me.

Take of my clothes--
Rip out my hair--
Peel off my skin--
Tear off my flesh--
Pop my bones right out of their sockets--
Let my organs fall to the ground--

and look at my

Essence.


Look at me,
Hold me,
Kiss me,
Cherish me--

Look
At
Me

.


See my potential--

My potential for good--
My potential for evil--


But tell me I'm
Still beautiful--

That the good in me
Makes up for the bad--

And then smile for me--

Because that's all I've ever wanted.
Emily Dickinson was my shoulder angel when I wrote this.
Jessie Nov 2010
the stars of the night sky
opened up like roses
whose petals cried
tears
unto the earth...

a man walks under the downpour,
his whistles echoing between
dark city buildings
and concrete alleys
mingling with the echoes of the
raindrops hitting his
umbrella
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