I'm a *****, because I'm honest.

You keep breaking promise's.

And you just expect me to not forget when you make your next one?

Am I Dumb?

Is it not obvious you would need to prove yourself before your trusted?

I don't think I'm the dumb one...

Again I get to hear how I have no income.

No income doesn't make me irrelevant.

Nor does it make me useless.

And your money can't buy my respect.

You can't pay me to shut up.

I know you will be sorry...

That's something you always are.

Me, I only wish I could ignore your *******...

But instead here we are.

I'm writing, cause I fucken hate that your such a fucken *******.

And I bet you regret not being with someone less confrontational, and more forgivable.

I can't say what my mind's thinking.

I know you don't believe it, but part of it ends with me leaving.

Nobody would think this argument is really about a drink...

But a promise of any size is a promise worth keeping to me.

I'm fucken crazy...

I'm out of my mind!

Cause I want you to mean what you say all the fucken time!

This feeling we created is dangerous.

If I were stronger, I'd deal with it better.

If you were thoughtful you'd understand my side.

I hate a liar.

And it makes me sick to my stomach.

I can't believe your such a fucken ****!

FUCKEN AUTO CORRECT TRYING TO MAKE YOU A DUCK INSTEAD!!!

I'm a *****, because I'm honest.

You keep breaking promise's.

And you just expect me to not forget when you make your next one?

Am I Dumb?

Is it not obvious you would need to prove yourself before your trusted?

I don't think I'm the dumb one...

Again I get to hear how I have no income.

No income doesn't make me irrelevant.

Nor does it make me useless.

And your money can't buy my respect.

You can't pay me to shut up.

I know you will be sorry...

That's something you always are.

Me, I only wish I could ignore your *******...

But instead here we are.

I'm writing, cause I fucken hate that your such a fucken *******.

And I bet you regret not being with someone less confrontational, and more forgivable.

I can't say what my mind's thinking.

I know you don't believe it, but part of it ends with me leaving.

Nobody would think this argument is really about a drink...

But a promise of any size is a promise worth keeping to me.

I'm fucken crazy...

I'm out of my mind!

Cause I want you to mean what you say all the fucken time!

This feeling we created is dangerous.

If I were stronger, I'd deal with it better.

If you were thoughtful you'd understand my side.

I hate a liar.

And it makes me sick to my stomach.

I can't believe your such a fucken ****!

FUCKEN AUTO CORRECT TRYING TO MAKE YOU A DUCK INSTEAD!!!

Normal has no home with me.

Rage is a wonderful mess.

Shake my hand...

Bend around my mind.

Bend all you can.

Sick is what I am.

Contagious is what I'm not, but you will flee all the same.

Satisfaction to my day.

Stay away so I don't have to try to explain.

Stay away...

PTSD, and a sprinkle of Rage...

Bipolar me will tarnish your day.

You will never understand my fears.

You will never understand the me that isn't me...

The desolate creation of Molestation, Physical Abuse, Verbal abuse, and ****!

Paint me Not a Victim for you are mine!

I'm ice cold and brilliant in my revenge.

I am easy on the eyes...

I'm a wonderful disguise!

I'll fight with my word's, even though I can't sleep.

You can be the victim of you!

Karma and God will find you!

But first you will see me.

My other me...

Such things that I think...

What you have done to me is nothing compared to my friend Beelzebub!

My mind's damaged Razor Sharp.

The Blood my mind spills is Beautiful, and warm like Family.

I'm the creature that feeds off the stench of your decomposing corps.

In my mind all that's gory is miraculous art.

You are Glorious in your Death!

And it is ART!

Fantasic ART!

Unique in your final pose...

Unique is your Blood on my paint brush.

Victims, Vast!

My gallery is full.

Such Monster's you all are!

But as I write, and create...

I'm the monster Today.

For Survivor's of hate!

I'll create!

No victims of innocence will bleed today.

It's a new day!

I have spray paint filled with the blood of the ******* who stole comfort from your night.

Cry not tonight!

Your composing the nightmares this night!

Set your hurt free...

Let them Bleed.

It's time for art's & craft's.

Carry them to me!

My writing sometimes feels lacking in taste...

I feel as if I reach less of you, because I have no grace.

I contemplate using my vast vocabulary, but words are scattered.

In moment's of frustration, they don't even belong...

Humidity, creates a hot sticky day.

Like a dirt devil tornados destruction and hate, Lot's of hate.

My feelings are these...

My life, and air thickened by debris.

Discover the beauty in my flaw.

Caress my lips in my most magnificent finest rage.

Beelzebub...

Lucifer my Brother!

Send me your serpents tongue, so I can impress and astonish everyone.

Allow my peers to feel my fear.

To frolic about my consistency.

My endearing, malevolent mouth exhausted with praise to hostility.

Surrender me the potency to mesmerize, to satisfy all who read.

For I regret I succeed in resonating ignorance.

Please realize the beautiful despair I'm in.

The agony, and all the sin I contemplate.

I'm often frolicking in my very own abyss, and I prefer to share the view with clarity.

My reality feels effortless, and absolutely simple.

Like a Neanderthal battering a rock, like cartoons, building blocks and punching walls.

I am lost.

I am lost...

Dare not believe the individual conflicted is nearly as basic as the mania wrath within.

I can be graceful and alluring with only my scribble.

I need not flaunt my physical being.

I can make all of this pandemonium harmoniously, sing.

I can come across to you as someone well taught.

But this Fucken Rage that Bipolar devises...

It originates from somewhere pretty **** crude...

Sweet sly words I can convey.

But sweetness and appearance isn't anything I care about, when I feel this way.

I'm raw and my writings is too.

So please continue this journey Down Rabbits Hole with me, because there's one thing I'm certain...

It's a hundred percent real.

It's on point, and exactly what I feel.

I thought I'd write about something sweet.

And so my mind is full of you.

Your caring, smart and beautiful to...

You make me smile.

You make me proud.

You make me feel as if I were floating on a cloud.

There's nothing more wonderful or better then you...

You hung the moon and made the sky blue...

My hugs and kisses are all for you.

I can't do you justice rhyme or not...

All that I know is I love you more than alot.

I try to write of you and let you know exactly what I feel...

But when my mind is set to you, words get cluttered and wonderful lines fail to come threw.

Know that your my first breath in the morning, my last at night.

Your my best friend, all that's genuine, and good in life.

Your in my laughter, my tears to...

You own my heart and carry my soul to.

I know of love because of you...

And my life is full of memories, thanks to you.

Something sweet starts with you...

And so I thought I'd try again and write something new.

I realize that my words stay cheesy, and a dictionary can't save me.

But I don't care as long is your with me.

Who gives a **** if I can't breath...

Nobody cares, because they aren't me.

**** my pain and sorrow.

I'll live...

I'll still be here tomorrow.

Why do I continue to be?

I'm hollow this minute...

I'm the ugly me.

But it's me not you who feels like ****, and it's for no reason...

Even I don't want to deal with it.

**** this moment, maybe the next too.

Don't tell me to control this, cause I'm NOT YOU.

I have issue's.

I try to be strong...

On this earth, at this time...

I simply don't belong.

Blah blah blah...

Leave me alone.

Who gives a **** if I feel all alone.

I enjoy nothing.

I fear nothing.

And I hate no one.

I enjoy nothing, except watching you in your smile.

I fear nothing, except everything that might put you in danger.

I hate no one, except the one's who have brought you sorrow.

I'm nobody, without you...

You make me smile.

You make me cry.

You give me life by simply being alive.

Without you I don't exist.

Without you there's never been a breath.

Call me your shadow.

Call me your friend.

I'll know no other happiness except you till the end.

I think I write with hate.

There's no sunshine, or flowering fields when I'm create using words.

I'm nobody and you are all.

Still nothing moves me from my four walls.

There's no haven, all is doomed.

This moment and the next will be over to soon.

So when I write, my words are bold.

They curse and rhyme, but there's no a good time to read my gripe.

For my writes bear no light, no blue skies, no starry night's.

I must feel that awful hate in order to be talented...

In order to create.

In order to write.

There's no calm to this storm.

Not unless being numb is calm.

I lay with a shield, numb while the storm debris dance about me.

There's no fear, for I've got nothing to lose.

The storm is as common as my unsteady breath.

But I'm numb, lost inside my surrender.

It's in my abandoned hope, where I find calm to the storm.

I know not if this is my armor for battle, or my white flag and shovel.

You know, your not always right?

There's a chance that you don't know everything...

Your human, and it's distasteful for you to act otherwise.

I don't mind being wrong, but I mind your rudeness and your denial of the possibility of you being wrong.

I mind your arrogance and the tone you use.

I mind the ******* you become and the fight you want.

I mind even when you apologize for the argument and your explanation for you being wrong...

I'm human...

I can be wrong...

But there's a possibility I can be correct.

Or am I just so beneath you, that it doesn't matter?

Don't complain that we lack comunication.

Don't get ****** when I ignore you.

Sometimes I just want to be your equal.

Sometimes I refuse to listen to that displeasing tone.

There's a possibility that I'm wrong, but there's a bigger possibility that your just a ****.

I'm plenty weak.

I've been, plenty strong.

I've failed a few of the tests, and passed far to many to remember.

Each time you show up to bless or test me, I rise for the occasion.

My faith is strong, but I just said but...

My prayers every meal, and night are the same.

I pray for Strength, for myself and other's that we see and follow your path selflessly, regardless of the journey.

I pray that other's be more blessed then I, for I am stronger than I am weak.

I pray to thank you for all that we have.

We are BLESSED still...

I'm just concerned, because I know doubting you is a sin.

And even though I have faith...

I am stressing trying to live one day at a time.

I believe, but I'm afraid.

Wow...

I'm BLESSED, more than many...

I just realized that I to am selfish...

Why are my words cruel and unattractive?

Will I never write words of inspiration?

My words relfect me.

So why is it you don't think I'm ugly at the very least?

Shall I never shine?

Will my rhymes be anything more then awful times?

I seek a slick tongue which spread happiness and expresse love.

Nobody enjoys my rants.

They aren't written for that...

So whats the use of pain written on cue?

I'm but a waste, like my words and all the hate.

Will I ever rise from below?

Will I ever be able to let sweet words flow?

I don't know who I am any more.

With this creativity darkness is sure.

What comes with pure happiness is definitely unsure.

Bury this pen.

Bury me alive...

I'm not even worth this moment in time.

I'm corrupted by my past.

The only thing I have are words written with blood and a broken cast.

And depressing words vast.

And arranging hate in words vast.

This agitating feeling...

This explosive rage...

The heat of burning paranoia...

It's as a part of me as my skin.

Do you look through me, or not at all?

Cause my pain and frustration is deep and through out me.

Like a picture of a super hero or villian with sparks, glowing and all.

How come you don't see it?

Am I also cursed with invisibility?

My chests pounds as if my hearts trying to flee this evil.

I'd flee to.

Do you see this mania?

Do you see my curse?

Are my eyes not blackened and my beauty distorted?

Do the warnings not exist?

Or like me...

Do you not give a ****?

Evil doesn't wish to converse or share space.

Can't you see my horns, or the liquid tar color extending from me?

Are you blind to my torment?

Can you not understand the telepathic messages I've sent?

You can't heal me...

I'll consume your positivity and break your spirit.

Please just leave me alone.

There's no cure for me.

I'll reach out to you when the I'm me again, or someone other than this.

This agitating feeling...

This explosive rage...

The heat of burning paranoia...

It's as a part of me as my skin.

Do you look through me, or not at all?

Cause my pain and frustration is deep and through out me.

Like a picture of a super hero or villian with sparks, glowing and all.

How come you don't see it?

Am I also cursed with invisibility?

My chests pounds as if my hearts trying to flee this evil.

I'd flee to.

Do you see this mania?

Do you see my curse?

Are my eyes not blackened and my beauty distorted?

Do the warnings not exist?

Or like me...

Do you not give a ****?

Evil doesn't wish to converse or share space.

Can't you see my horns, or the liquid tar color extending from me?

Are you blind to my torment?

Can you not understand the telepathic messages I've sent?

You can't heal me...

I'll consume your positivity and break your spirit.

Please just leave me alone.

There's no cure for me.

I'll reach out to you when the I'm me again, or someone other than this.

Life's continuously changing miraculously every day.

I'm still here, and they are with me.

The darkness is hazy, dimmed with light.

The sun's shining and all feels right.

Suicides just a crazy idea, I'm embarrassed I had.

Today is today.

A much, much better day than yesterday.

I'm still here.

I'm feeling far away from yesterday.

It's a beautiful world.

It's miraculous.

The sun's shining and it's not at all hot.

There's a breeze that seems to catch me, right before I fall.

It's a miracle I'm here and happy or even at all.

I live in the moment, because tomorrow is never far.

Creative, cluttered mind that's me.

A life living, not as one should lead.

Breaking, still surviving in my head.

Hummid air of anguish grips my throat.

Dragging me through every bittersweet day and every single long exhausting night.

Anxious torment and lack of sleep from insomnia,  and ptsd.

Rage ridden bipolar and depression radiate through out me.

But I'm here it's a wonder when suicide is peeking in and flirting with me.

I feel eye's all about me, watching, lingering in safe distance.

Careful word's and rushed conversation is how I am accepted.

Frustrated and alone is the equivalent.

There's nothing that will drain strength from a heart as a lack in faith.

There's nothing that can drain faith from a heart like monster disguised as a human to a child.

There's nothing I'm shocked to see, miracles included...

Who knows the outcome of loves battles. For the moment it's the end of the world. It's pain, fear, anger and sadness.
For the moment it's love gone wrong.
But tomorrow may be magical and wonderful.
I'm praying this will pass and my heart will be mended soon.
But for this moment, I'm heart broken.

Maybe there's no fixing this.

You continue to be one of the guy's like everything's fine.

Maybe this is what's right.

Maybe you and I are wrong together and we're holding eachother back.

I don't feel that love from you, and I don't see the affectionate looks...

Could this be this be it for us?

Will it be unbearable?

Or will we be better off?

I'm as prepared as I can be, and there won't be a better time to hear that you don't love me that way any more.

I can't imagine us not being we, but I don't foresee an end to this bitterness.

I don't want to hate you, although I get so close.

I don't want you to hate me even though it may already be so...

I don't want to spread my wings, but I feel you might.

I can't see tomorrow without out you by my side, but it may be whats right.

Your my best friend, but maybe our loves not meant.

I've been told that I was the best thing for you, but maybe it doesn't mean we were meant to be together for life.

I dreamt of you and I as we.

It was just a dream.

Something has arrived.

It's bitter and angry, like a stranger cold and distant.

So deep, the depth is immeasurable.

So draining, that it's taking the warmth from my loving heart.

So painful, yet it's old and become apart of me.

Salt rain has flowed from my eye's, but now I must declare a drought.

I'll reap strength from this too.

No matter how it resolves or ends.

But NOW I am, useless.

I am sad, confused, and lonely.

I believe in god so I know there's a reason for this.

Or could it be as if feels?

That I am cursed and I shall live out this life knowing only other's joy?

Am I just to guide and care for other's?

I feel they are great, with wonderful future's.

I know they will do important, miraculous things.

I am proud.

But if I'm but a speck of them, meant only to insure their happiness and safety...

Shall I give up on my own personal fulfillment?

After all, my heart's joy is only them and their success.

Is this who I am?

And should that other love be halted, instead if mourned?

Is this pain for not, as it's not meant for me to have?

I'm saying I...

Does that mean there's more for me?

Am I just to weak for this and convincing myself to give up on love?

Or is this love *******, something that's plagued me?

Can it be that we simply just don't belong together?

Or are we're both just stubborn and are about to lose the best thing we ever had?

How this confuses and conflicts my mind, heart and soul.

The only thing I do know is that I am alone, empty, and becoming cold.

And I know that love hurts...

Last night I had a nightmare.
I was back in that home.
I was afraid to leave.
All I wanted to do was signal my kids to go to the car...
But they were so small.
I swore they could feel my fear.
The danger in the home, but I must have been wrong.
Since they are ok, it's best they were spared the trauma.
These nightmares are mine.
Nobody knows the extent of damage I've been inflicted.
No one knows how many time's my body had been taken from me as I weeped.
No one knows how many time's I've been cornered, and silenced.
No one knows how many times I tried to escape.
Nobody knows, not even me.
Now it's just a nightmare that wakes me with my heart beating, my body sweating, and tears falling.
Now I turn the tv on and try to change my thoughts.
I'm no longer his victim, or the man before him.
I don't have to worry about my body being taken or abused by angry hands.
I don't fear for my life, or the life of my children.
But now, I'm harder to know.
I'm harder to love.
Now I am strong...
And I'm left with thoughts and reactions of a woman who has survived.
The ptsd wasn't only from him.
But this nightmare was a gift he left behind.
I'm so fortunate to not just be living a better life with a better man, but because sometimes I get to be completely free...
Sometimes I get to forget my whole past.
I can't believe how strong the abuse holds on to me.
My heart pounds still.
Tears fall as I write.
And I know I don't need to be, because he's in my past...
But I'm afraid as if I have only been free a day.
These nightmares are as sneaky and powerful as he used to be.
But they are only nightmares.
And he holds no power over me...

Thick fire consuming my social being.
Ice cold stare confirming that I welcome solidarity.
Silent lips with the power to isolate.
Arms empty yearning to be full, but bearing fists held tight.
Reminding you that I will fight.
A slave to my emotions.
A puppet to my mind.
Bitter from lack of control and weak from loneliness.
The only thing that makes me sane like you is that even I don't understand me.
I'm a puzzle incomplete.
Of no interest to anyone until I'm allowed to be freed.
I know little of that sweet word.
For it comes so seldom and leaves to soon.
And so I'll stay in my room.

I felt my body falling into deeper pain yesterday.
Like a shadow that drains with sharp and lingering aches.
Like a monster waiting to take its victim.
I'm where sleep feels so close and so much further.
I can't sleep or stay awake and it's torture.
I'm trapped.
I find no comfort.
I have no escape.
I'm my bodies enemy.
My mind is heavy and my thoughts confused and blurry.
I'm less of me today.
Even though yesterday I was less me.
Today I'm lesser me then I've been in weeks.
I feel depressed and frustrated.
Frustrated with my mind, and body.
Today is a reminder why yesterday was better.
Even though I was tired and my back taunted me with its nagging wide spread hurt.
Today is more.
And I am less.
Uncomfortable, unhappy, and unable to exact my discription of this curse.
Fibromyalgia's friend.
It won't let me go.
And Fibromyalgia's enemy.
It won't let me go...
This is me.
This is not me.
I'm but a shadow of me ninety percent of my life.

My aunt said your a good guy.

Your uncle said I was the best thing that happened to you.

Maybe they are both wrong.

Perhaps the are both right.

Either way it doesn't mean that we belong together.

Because this moment my eyes are swollen from tears.

This moment my heart is in need of numbing.

I can't see the future, because your cruel words have filled my mind.

I'm alone inside myself and confused of what brought this on.

Did someone call you and set your mood?

Did something happen in the few minutes you were away?

The you that you were, I seldom see.

But it has did something to me...

I feel like I missed something.

Before the names you called poured from you mouth...

Life was fine and I knew was happy.

This second I'm angry hurt and painfully sad.

So so confused about it all.

Broken, so broken, but strong despite it all.

Strong and confused...

Something evil took over you...

Ice pack pillows...

So many and so close like skin to my skull.

Pain so vicious that my bodies aches from fibromyalgia are numb.

Any scent is like an attack, pounding my head...

I have no strength to fight back.

My stomachs tired too...

It refuses to hold any food.

Light is like lasers set to explode.

And moving...

Moving causes silent tears for fear of adding sound...

I'm in a world of torture, only one with severe migraines knows.

With prescription relief comes a side effects pain...

Thought through carefully it's worth the trade.

One morning or day gone...

Maybe even a few...

Before comeplete comfort sits a dull draining day...

After each tormenting migraine I find a sweet appreciation for my every day physical pains.

I've been deceived and annoyed.

You think you are entitled to an ounce of respect, because you own a piece of my heart.

Darling, it doesn't work that way.

Respect is earned.

I will not allow my heart to think for my mind and confuse love with with excuses.

I won't say that your not in my heart or on my mind...

But your position couldn't be closer to a waste of my sweet time.

No matter how white or transparent you think your lie is...

It's mere existence without coming clean makes you irrelevant to my trust.

My *** is big, but my hearts bigger.

Yeah, I know I'm a moody *****...

Say it and don't hide your ****...

Cause, baby your an ******* and your sense of humor has gotten distasteful...

Your crooked smile, is still beautiful and your eyes are still a two shades of my kind of romantic.

Your scars are still **** and you are still the only man that gives me that high.

You still have my heart...

But don't mistake my love for weakness.

Before I fell for your flaws, we were just friends, and we shared with complete honesty.

We weren't perfect, but we were real and that's the kind of love that I want to feel.

You have my heart, but your entitled to ****.

You have my heart, but trust and respect is earned and kept up with.

The romance can die down and rise again, but without honesty I'm water to It's flames.

Without honesty I'm entitled to freedom and companionship that's honest and real.

I'm entitled to all of this, with or without You.

You were like a natural disaster to our lives.

While we played in a field.

No warning.

You appeared...

You struck and we lay scattered on that field...

In tears.

Confused.

In pain.

Broken inside out.

No longer just children.

Victims to young to understand that we were forever changed.

To young to understand why we felt ***** and guilty.

The threats and fear, made us silent...

Fear and interrogation made me lie.

You left us in that open space forever, no matter where we went.

And our lives were taken...

Our parents were broken, because parents break when thier children are hurt.

And my lie...

My lie forever changed my protectors life.

My fear made me hurt another.

We were so young...

Some not old enough for school.

Our fear allowed the disaster to strike others...

Now as adults we know a new guilt.

But we were so young.

This very unnatural disaster still walks the earth...

Somebody gives this pervert comfort...

But we are forever changed.

Stronger today, yes...

But never again as free as before he stole our innocence.

This disaster turned our world upside down, and revisited us for years taking more of us each time he put his disgusting hands on us.

I'm not to religious, but I believe in God.

I have yet to know the reason for this, except that we are great protective parents...

And as I believe there's a God...

I know there is also a hell.

And while God tells us to forgive...

I have yet to forgive even myself for being so full of fear, because it allowed him to walk free and hurt us again and again, and others through time.

There is no part of us sacred or untouched by that evil...

No matter who knows our story, there's no person not even eachother who understands the depth of our individual torment.

The unfair torture of feeling an isolated, unexplainable, personal  taste of evil.

Like a natural disaster, he struck us down...

Children at play made victims of a child molester.

Survivor's!

Of a sick family member's distgusting taste for extremely young children.

We can't say we are ok.

We refuse to say you are anything more then a creature that has not yet met God's wrath.

And dare not say, you to know abuse...

Dare not say you found God...

God and abuse will find you when your six feet under.

I know I sin as I write this...

But to forgive...

As a mother myself...

Well that's it's not in me.

Do unto others...

Do unto others, that's how I live.

When I'm near you, my skin heats and sweats for you.

My heart flutters full of passion, and my thoughts are only for you and l.

My eyes crave yours, and outlines your shoulders, your neck, your every shadow, your art.

My art...

Your my art.

I can trace you with my lingering fingers, leading to places only for me.

Kissing your lips, licking them with my careful aggressive lust.

My lips are sweet, but my tongue will be in your every *******.

As our tongues dance I know this was my very dream last night.

You and I, like heat and delicious liquid memories.

It's physical passion and chemical romance.

You and I made to please only eachother.

To gently tease and vigorously please eachother.

This is what the best dreams are made of...

You and I dancing our sacred dance.

The dance that only great lovers can dance.

Till every ****** has stolen our very last movement.

Drained our liquid lust.

Till we lay in each others arms or spread out on the bed...

While our bodies scream pleasure and only our deep breaths remain among blended sweat and wet...

I think of this.

Of you.

Of us.

And my mind plays this distant song to my body and it radiates through me till only consuming you will heal me...

Fill me...

Feel me...

And I miss you now though in moments I'll upon you.

My self control does not exist.

Just you and l alone with our sounds and bodies bound and bent, layed out and sometimes whipped.

Passion.

All of our needs will be met...

I know my only fear would be not being able to watch over my loved ones.

I'd be scared that they might need me.

I'd be afraid they never knew how much they ment to me.

I'd be worried that they wouldn't get along, and regret it.

I'd be terrified that they would go separate ways.

I would feel guilty that I didn't show them how to be truly happy.

I'd know I lived my life for them, but I wouldn't regret it for a second.

I wouldn't want to leave them, but I wouldn't want to burden them.

When I die. I pray that I didn't leave before they were ready...

When I die...

Please know that loving and caring for you, was why I lived.

Silence is the sound that bangs upon his lips.

No words, only unsteady breaths revealed by his heart filled chest.

His mind is hidden behind his tired eyes...

But his soul can feel and hear your voice and prayers from the other side.

His hearts warm, as its always been.

It's been his nature to just live life as if he only knew beauty, music, family and friends.

Such a fragile state he's in for this moment...

And with his life so humble you would have never expected his impact to be so great.

He prays now inside his head...
But he's so thoughtful, I'm sure it's not for him...

Silence bangs upon his lips...

But we shall wait and pray to hear his voice again.

He works so hard though the week.

How can I wake him from his sleep?

My body wants him. My tongue to.

My mind is racing on what we will do.
Should I wake him from his sleep? Gently kissing him, starting with his cheek.

I'm awake I always am, but should I wake this hard working man?

We had fun. We played today.

Touching each other in wonderfully messy ways.

He led me down. He ate out.
It was all that love and lust should be about.

Lips were licked and necks bit, bodies one, and finger fun.

Ankle gripping, legs were spread.
Then he bent me over the bed.

So fulfilling and ******.

Sweating, panting.
*** perfumed room.
Held hands, hair pulling and ******* to.

It couldn't be better don't get me wrong.
But all this writing and he won't be sleeping long.

I said if I woke him I would start with a gentle kiss on his cheek, but being reminded.... That would be weak.

When he wakes he better be prepared, because all this passion Must be fed.

So I'll wake him, and I'll wake his friend.....

I can't wait to start again.

With insomnia I've been cursed, but sometimes...... I know things could be worse.

He makes me write, because he makes me feel so much.

The control he has, he has no clue.

He only sees what he chooses to.

But he can make me smile like no other, and in an instant force my tears to flow.

When I think of comfort, he's number one.

But when I ready to run it's from him.

He makes me write because he seems deaf...

But when I write he is also blind...

Will our circle of ******* ever end?

I want to stay with him forever, and enjoy the beautiful part of him.

Its frozen deep down inside, and when it's thawed I am mesmerized.

Nobody could be sweeter or more understanding.

Nobody could hold me longer.

I think he has demons, as we all do...

But when his peek out, I think it wants to devore me.

Love heals all and I've never seen him lost long...

Yet it does seem often and that gives me cause to think me loving him is wrong.

He makes me write, because he still holds my heart.

He's the only man capable of tearing it apart.

He makes me write and he's still mine.

He makes me write and maybe it will be this way for the rest of our lives.

A lie...

As white or as small as it might be...

A lie is all that puts emptiness between you and I.

Words...

No matter how few they may have been...

Are the things that stab at me.

Sorry...

A word rarely needed, always unwanted...

No matter how sweet your apology might be.

Understanding, so precious to me...

If only you took the time to see what your lack of empathy does to me.

Devoted...

It's what I am to you...

Blind...

Is what you are when it comes to me.

Simple...

Are our problems.

FAITH is what I have in us, but FEAR that I'm a FOOL is the end of US.
LOVE is our HOPE and FRIENDSHIP is what binds us.

Furious tides, black black skies

Water chilled, like my heart

Waves fierce begging demise

Hollowed soul, beckons my blood.

Fire tears guiding my hate and your deepest fear...


Curse you resentment

Shower me with faith

Relieve this demanding desire to bludgeon spirit and hope of the one who keeps me living

Fail me not heart so fueled

Let me surrender this which makes me merciful or set this evil in the stone, so I can transform

Let me be kind or let malevolence reign

Dominance sway no more

Rivers wrath o' sin, utilize my entire being

Or strike my heart with life, and rid this vengeance so pure

Bring the rays so warm with it's beauty so sweet and incandescent all that is right

Or swallow me whole, and blacken my eyes so all who encounter me have time to flee

Let them destroy me with true affection...

overwhelm me with good intentions

Or shatter every shred of my beauty...

Contort me to my selfish form of desire for pain, drenched in the fear that I bestow

Hummid, disgust, gasping dirt darkened night

O' sun obliging comfort O' generous warmth...

Bless me calm winds.

Take in the light and rid me of sin

Save me...

Condem me...

Do as you will...

Just do it quickly and leave me fulfilled

I have no one to talk to.
I have no one who knows.
I don't feel sorry for myself, but I need strength.
I fear the future,  because of the past.
And I embrace the future, because I know it brings this moment to the past.
What a disgusting person I must be, because broken never looked good on anyone and pathetic is how it reads on me.
So stupid to have not realized I was in a game.
I was caught off guard and its not about losing...
Just the fact that I didn't want to play.
It's amazing the things I didn't see.
It's ridiculous, what I thought I saw.
Now there's a path before me.
I need only to prepare for the trip.
With a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes I need to accept that this is good bye.
Friendship is forever in some ways, but lies taint it and sometimes there's nothing to save.
All this time, I've been alone.
I don't understand what makes it so hard to make it final.
Me being me and you being you is what I thought made us, us...
But I guess to much of anything is way to much.
And our special friendship was fun when I thought it was real.
I feel hate in my heart, but the sadness consumes it.
And my heart stings.
It's the only way that I know this is real.
I dare not be bitter.
I dare not be conquered.
But nauseous and shatterd is what I can't deny.
So I'll talk to myself not knowing if it will do any good.
Myself is all I have at the end so I might as well get used to it.
I wonder what kind of friend I'll make myself...
Will I be honest like the real me or will I try to convince myself that this is nothing?
I can already see that I'm the greatest friend a person can have, always honest, always there...
But this great friend thing...
I don't think it applies to me.

It's times like this that I believe there's no such thing as love.
How can an emotion so wonderful be destined to be accompanied by emotions most tragic?
At one moment your heart is so full and sure...
Then at any other it's beauty is stolen, and your left lonely with only pain and tears.
What a cruel way to live...
With faith that your love is genuine.
You feel as powerful as this love is, that it can't be broken.
But the very person that makes such a miraculous feeling possible is your enemy.
Now something so fragile has become hardened and cold.
Revenge sits in your heart with those tears and rather then drown in them, it basks and laughs.
Maybe only I am cursed.
That would be fine, for something so special shouldn't be stolen from everyone.
Surely other's deserve this amazing comfort, undisturbed.
And not even my damaged heart would wish this trick on anyone.
But karma is my friend, even though revenge fights to be freed.
If only I could be as ugly person as he...
The public would be amazed at the treachery I'd blaze.
And the devil would smile with pride.
If only I were a little weaker...
I'd thank Satan for his very existence.
And I'd make myself home in hell as this so called lover is shattered as I have been shatterd.
If only I were weaker...
I'd be the perfect storm.
I'd shadow my every thought with evil and release such a rage.
It would be glorious and such a film it would make...
All of the viewers could watch him watch and run from his faith.
And they would shed tears, because they would feel his heart break, like my heart once broke...
Still I'd be such a monster with tremendous ways of destroying a heart...
No person could look away...
My pain would be art.
If only I were weaker...
If only it was true...
If only I never fell in love with you.
If only I were weaker...
The things I'd do, if only I could be lower then you...
If only love didn't exist, or at least if I knew nothing of it.

And it sweeps over me like a charmed dimmed veil.
Providing me shade and stealing my breeze.
Keeping me fresh in my misery.
Prolonging my grief.
Hiding my tears and my wicked smirk.
I am the bride of my own shadow, loneliness.
My reception, the demons that haunt me.
My cake the lump in my throat.
Open bar of my tears.
And I'll make my speech honoring my weakness as my best friend.
I'm a bride and failure is my groom.
What a couple we make, all of darkness will rave.
For I am sad and angry.
Me and my groom shall create such destruction in our wake.
I will make it rain, thunder and quake.
With my groom as long as he stays.

I write with honesty and drape it with emotion.

I wash my words with tears and dry them in anger.

I never read my words out loud, my tongue has no taste for them.

I don't notice anyone sees my writes as I notice nobody feels them.

I tap my words on to a screen as I watch my tv.

I write my words just with me and expect nobody.

Words scrape raw into my mind, on to the screen.

They reap my pain in the most simplest way.

It's not very beautiful, not like my hello poetry friends, but it's just like me no time for etiquette.

The words stumble from my mind, much like someone who has lost thier way.

And my heart reads into every line, even when I say I bare none.

Be it rushed, sloppy and brazen...

My words always always find their way onto my hello poetry page.

I get lost in all of my fellow writers, writes.

But it's no surprise, because that's how it is in my everyday life.

I'm lost and I'm found, alot down and almost never sound.

I write how I live.

I write only what I live...

My echoes are all I have to give to my hello poetry friends.

You can spill spill all of your words.

You can shout shout your hurt.

You can cry cry your heart out.

You can beat beat your anger pillow.

You can rip rip your hair.

But if they don't give a ****....

You must must realize that they will never never care.

Broken isn't attractive.

That's how I know I'm ugly.

I'm not well...

I know this.

I took these meds because I want to be better for them.

But I'm so ******* up that my pain lingers and clings on to thier lives.

I'm broken and I know its my past that pushed me into this life.

I took these meds daily in attempt to be less miserable for them.

Because my illness is not contagious, but taintable.

I want everyone to be free from what I feel.

I care so much about how they feel.

But these meds make me fat, and the bipolar in me can't a hundred percent be held back...

I inconvenience everyone with my sorrow and rage when I peek into thier world.

It makes me feel guilty and worthless.

I want to be what they want, to smile and laugh everyday.

Or just loose my mind and not care about anything.

Being social and anyone but me is what I'm supposed to be, but Im cursed with my life in my bedroom and failing my family.

I don't write to get anyone to understand.

I think I write this because, it's all that I am.

I'm sorry for the people who read these words and can relate...

Because your either stuck like me or have actually found your way.

I'm still gone as I breath and sit, and I hate myself beacause of the space I waste.

Just today I flushed my meds away.

Nobody should care, because I've never gotten better.

I've never been well enough for them.

Maybe I'll shed some pounds, but who cares because I'll be in my bed.

Maybe the difference in me med free will help someone see.

Even if it's just me.

It's soft and gloomy today.

With a slight breeze and painted clouds.

The sun peeks through and kisses the flowers.

I can sit and stare from my window for hours.

I'll wait for a mist that flirts with the earth.

I'll watch and I'll wait.

It's the perfect day to put my thoughts to hopes.

It's so perfect that I wait for our the dirt to soak.

Yes it's perfect, but I still want more.

I would love to smell the rain and pavement while the sky pours.

It's a few steps above the perfect day today.

It's hope for a day that's more, much more than today.

And so I'll watch and I'll wait.

And I'll watch and wait.

The fan is making angry.

Its hot but the sound of the blades spinning and catching air is deafening.

My heart is sore drumming through my chest.

Im hot from heat and hot from emotional overload.

There's nothing that can be done.

Don't even ask.

I don't want to talk, think, see, or even hear.

I want to be left the **** alone.

This fan is driving me crazy, but if I turn it off I'll be hot.

Im attempting to find a pattern in my breaths.

Im waiting for my heart beat to slow and steady.

The sound of the **** fan is driving me crazy...

Im not crazy...

But if you speak, I may scream.

Please stop trying to help.

Your helpfulness is feeding my pain.

The fans so **** loud, and NO you can't help!

Your driving me crazy...

But Im not crazy, maybe just a little angry.

The fan is the least of my problems.

I write now, without ink.

I write without gripping any tool in my dominate right hand.

My finger points and taps a screen and is made so that I make no mistakes.

But I am human and I'll find mistakes here.

And I'll write without writing, and share all of me without your phyisical view of me.

You will view me inside, but not out.

Shall I be beautiful using the tool that I grip now with my left hand, as my right pointer, points and taps?

If I use a pen, you will view me messy and sensitive.

For my penmanship is horrid and my tears fall plenty.

I write now.

I use no ink.

I write now, hiding just a little of the pysical me.

I long for the days that my hand touched paper and the liquid salt gave my pages character.

Back when each written word lumped my thought and every tear ripped my heart twice as hard as this tapping.

But I shall write without paper and I'll use ink again, when I am braver.

Lost in time what should have been the best years in a childs life.

Stolen innocence and damaged minds.

Filthy secrets and shame live where I feared.

My childhood not fit for an adult.

No childhood for me, my mind became old and weak on the horrible days of which I don't speak.

Just me slightly taller and a bit aged.

I've been this me since my innocence was stolen away.

She hates me, because Im broken.

The picture she sees is distorted, and spot on point.

The fear in my eyes is only weakness and the rage in my veines is so hot she can feel it.

She knows me all to well and she hates me.

My bursts of drama makes her sick, and in her eyes I almost don't exist.

All my flaws and and even my good deeds, she thinks, wishing I wasn't me.

She sees my shadow in the halls, and my figure in my room.

Her heart's so warm, it could easily break.

Like my heart... Its her best trait and weakness.

She looks at me from the corner of her eye and feels disgust.

She hates me.

Im like the mirror in the lake, when its disturbed there's no view.

She sees my medication, and how it only sometimes works.

Now the fear she feels is for her alone.

My beauty, my shell, my insides like liquid....

She hates me.

She makes me strong and breaks me down, without trying.

She makes me sad and proud.

She fills my heart.

Through her my blood flows far to freely, and she denies me.

She is beautiful inside and out, but I may have broken her by being broken.

I live in fear, but pray all my strength has been passed to her.

She hates me and its ok.

I hate me.

Today -

I went out today...

I hate the world.

I went out today and cursed the world...

I drive my car with rage whispering in my ear.

I listened to the sweet sound of profanity as my hands gripped the steering wheel...

My feet yearned to feel my car burn through street.

And my heart full of the darkest evil passion, burned at the site of people in their vehicles.

I want to be home.

Im to cruel for the world.

I want to hide and keep my anger inside.

But the closer I get to home the more courageous my rage is.

I want to be home, and I want to forget the world.

I want to breath, without profanity fighting its way out of my mouth....

And I want to confine myself to my room and burn there till calm has found my heart.

Ill take off my shoes and take deep breaths and in an hour or so, I shall be me again.

So you have something to say...

But I didn't ask your opinion.
I'm weakened, but I am not conquered.

I know you hear my breaths deep and its possible you can even feel my heart race from where you stand.

It's true...

I'm wounded and my hearts banging on my chest.

I stand before you. My eyes are flooded with wet salt.

I'm am in need of a...

FRIEND.

I can use an extra pair of ears and I don't want to hold a microphone...

Even more so I would like you to put yours away.

I want nothing more then a drop of concern and arms full of optimistic friendship.

Listen to me cry and maybe even speak, because my hearts sad and I've got a lump in my throat.

Be for me what I am for you...

A Friend.

Let me let it pass and when I'm actually calm, let me go without pointing any fingers or smirking.

Please take no joy in my life interruption.

Feed me strength, with silence and love.

I'll come back later, maybe have resolved my problem. I may have a joyous story to share...

But I may come back and need your opinion...

If I do, please keep an open mind.

And understand I'm asking because I trust you.

Please be honest, but be kind and never ever throw my flaws in my face.

Remember like I do. We are imperfect as humans...

I see perfection in our imperfections.

Our Unique paths and spirited choices.

I see beauty in our differences, in our triumphs and even in our flawed life lessons.

I'll be here when you need a shoulder...

A friend...

So if I fall, if your my friend...

Thank you for being there for me.

And if I'm not...

Well go ahead and tell me to *******, because preying on someone when they are weak is low.

And like I said I'm human...

I am HUMAN, but  I will recover.

And all that energy you put into weak attempts to shatter the jilted....

Well that **** will not be forgotten.

And I will stand tall with the grace of your friendship or despite your cruel intentetions to take advantage of the fragile ache I bore.

Wasted air, time and space

Unused energy lingering in sadness

There's no need, no purpose

I've tried to help, but its so true...

I'm lost myself

I don't feel my existence is anything that's important any more

I did all that was great and made all that is beautiful

I've impacted all who I ever will impact

Now my minds an inconviece

It's rain and dust in your face

I'm annoying and you dodge me ...

Its not fair

Its not fair to you, you can be happy

But I'm in they way...

This is not sad

This is just true

Why should I bring you down, when you can be happy and comfortable to

The thoughts near I get so worked up
It's more then a thought

I want to be here,  but I think it was ok if I'm not