Submission,
             indoctrinated
I fall, hitting the floor,
         as
words,
       penetrate,
skull filled with misled,
       judged,
              barely touched
understanding
               and, found, I
look to the moon,
                 low in skies,
where there are stars fighting for space,
   and I stopped,
                 the game of finding and seeking room
in the iced blocked heart of your own ruin.

Tumble,
        fumble
you loved,
              me; you said; I love you
yet, you, only you,
denies the soul, heart, craved for, starved for, undenied
                love; waiting its turn,
wait wait wait,
tell me will,
it ever truly be over, as the duality across sobriety,
serenity in acceptance, courage,
                                will you change?
No choice to whom we love, a choice only,
                     in allowing, love to
filter,
        filter,
               dissipate through,
dumb, inane, insane, sorrow struck, distrust, unrest
sober drunk, gone, lost, amidst
untold secrets, forming in patterns allowing choices, unknown
alive with love,
               inside the agony grows,
groans and aches,
unable to release, free love, the one you, so
undeniably,
want.

© Sia Jane

i.
fantasy girl,
they tell me,
you've got your head in the clouds.

but it's better up there.

ii.
i'll do what you want for now
but i'll have you know,
i'm a celebrity in my own head.
and i don't need to figure
things like taxes and math.

i dance
around beautifully brazen ballerinas
and flowers missing half their petals
before they've even bloomed
and weave justice back into romance
and weave romance back into words.

i make my own living
where i am king
of thieves and beggars
and i am respected
for my fraud.

iii.
you expect me to remember
the littlest things
             (names,
                 dates,
                  rules)
when i am too preoccupied
by things that fill my head
              like the sounds of words
              like the way they make me feel

and due dates make me anxious
so i'll just erase them
why don't you understand
i have the power to change the world?
my pen is mightier than your scalpel.

  (i don't need to meet
  your plastic-surgery standards,
  your smiling faces with lying eyes)

iv.
what is surviving in your world
compared to even living in mine?

the last few nights
will lay etched in memory
not because they were
overly special or
out of this world
but they are the end
of an era I didn't think
would cease to be

when, if ever, will I see
the faces that laughed
and sang along tonight?
will some of them press on
through the ages
or pass away with time?

my throat seems plugged
unable to open up
and say those final words
that lay solemn in the night
...
"Goodbye my friends,

goodbye"

I’ve felt happiness sink
In this tremor flesh
Sometimes I don’t think it’ll ever rise back up again

Pale figures stretch
Themselves apart at the wrist
Living transient
Beautiful deaths

I know the shift and the slide of my aches
More intimately than love
Or lust

I think when lovers collide
Bloom, then die
They depart redefined

I could grow to love
The distance from you
I think I’m most comfortable
In the warmth of your hues

You took the hurt from my fingertips
You lit my heart ablaze

I sometimes care too much to speak
So awkward in defeat
But I’m learning to live again
You are the blossom of better days