from a world of shadows
there once was a girl
with tulips for eyes
and dandelion curls -
when crowds softly wept
her colors unfurled;
for she held onto strength,
not onto the world.

A thought provoking rage
boils beneath my bones.
The fury that spawns words
still choking behind fear.
I cradle my guilt.
I want to lash out,
exert my deviance & manipulate,
pull the strings of the puppets I create.
The strength in me is cruel.
I claw & pick my flesh
to distract myself from madness.
The kind queen feels dead inside
trampled by mistrust & abuse.
All of my fight withdraws to protect her
& leaves me frozen.
My kingdom at the mercy of men.
Will divided.
The desire to thrive
& the yearning to submit.

Listen to the silence...
As it consumes every fragment of your being,
Listen as it gets louder,
Bleeding eardrums with its power.
It's melodically hypnotic, it demands to be heard, really listen.
You have no choice.
Listen to the screams of a friend  that has no voice.
Between the pause to catch a breath the unsaid thoughts bellows in mute.
You can't hide from something so invasive,
It's like surgery,
It exposes you.
It leaves wounds that take too long to heal.

we built a house with our bare hands
and you moved out,
then back in and it’s haunted now,
I know you have a hard time sleeping
but I’ve memorized every floorboard
that creaks and it sings me to sleep
every time you try and leave,
I get confused whether it’s the lullaby
of coming or leaving that knocks me out,
this house began to burn and I sat for months
putting it out while you stood
there with cold feet,
and now you’re warm and I’m
stuck peeling the ash off of my skin,
the grass is still green and the
picket fence is freshly painted
but I used the wrong colour,
the door bell is a muttering of
apologies and the doormat is a mirror,
the bed we slept in
hasn’t been made since you left,
I’m stuck sleeping with ghosts
and brushing my teeth beside
no one to tell me that I haven’t
been brushing for long enough,
I’m showering in hot water in the middle
of summer because the steam
pulls the mirror off the wall,
and all I want is for you to come back,
our house is ***** and the callouses on
my hands are starting to become smooth,
my skin is almost clear again,
please come back.

Cats are cool,
They regally rule.
You think you own them,
But they own you.

Born as kittens they are so cute.
Before you know it, off they scoot.
Baby faces and big blue eyes,
Dopamine surges, what a surprise.

Pouncing on you as you walk through the door,
Kitty is lightning over that floor.
How we love to watch them play,
Brightening up an otherwise dull day.

The older cats look on with disdain:
They’d much rather use their brain.
More to the point cats love to sleep,
Waking only to take the odd peep.

So independent yet love a stroke:
Lots of purring you’ll invoke.
I’m not too sure of their table manners
But they’ve just got to be fans of canners.

I’m not too keen on them bringing a present,
Even though they might think that it’s a pheasant.
They can be cruel when they hunt,
But that’s their job, let’s be blunt.

Most popular pets, that’s for sure.
Feeling stressed? A cat is your cure.

Paul Butters

Can't move on. Everything reminds me of him and the love we could have had.
I smile to hide the pain but my cheeks hurt.
I'm going nowhere.
Writing makes things better and only makes things worse.
It takes the pain away and it escalates it.
Emotions getting the better of me.
Hating everything and everyone except for him.
He is proud of himself for getting me all worked up.
And I'm disappointed in myself for getting all worked up over a stranger that introduced me to darkness.
That introduced me to pain and anger.
I wish to stop allowing him to **** me over.
But it's like I'm enjoying the pain.
I enjoy getting hurt.
That's the only way to explain why I still love him.
I somehow found pleasure in pain.
That's the only way to explain why I still try.
I'm addicted to the pain.