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Such a cruel mystery
The male species is to me;
I find, if I dream of him at dawn,
By lunch I'm often left forlorn.
But if I keep him from my thoughts,
He will not keep away for naught!
Oh! The heartache I had felt,
At the tender age of seventeen.
Losses haunted, like the silver specks of weakness,
That danced before my eyes.
Oh the anguish!
Of all those boys I deeply loved
(And yes, I loved them truly!)
I was seventeen - practically a woman!
Of course I knew what love was.

Yet that day before I shed my childhood,
I ****** my childish ignorance,
As I was called to stand *****,
In front of the mole-hill field of mourners
As the men, they trembled under the weight,
Of your coffin, and the crushing grief,

And I endured your hero's call home,
Hand in hand with a faceless person.
Not once but twice.
No mercy.
The bugle, it wept for me.

And I held back tears and realised
That loss is not the beating of your teenage breast
And standing in the shower as tears mix with soap
And writing poems full of teenage angst
And slamming doors and phones against walls.

This is loss.
This will always be loss.
Your secrets are choking me, and I’m drowning in the silence between us.
The air is heavy and I feel myself sinking.
The room is filled with your presence, you are the ghost that walks these halls. The Faceless man that haunts my dreams.
I want to tell her the kind of man you are-
but I can't bring myself to destroy your charade.
I don't want to watch the light in her eyes dim like it did in mine.
*kinda ******, still angry, might always be*
Finally wrote something again though, so there is that.
What do you do when you've had
the "awe inspiring" love at first sight-
and had it blown up?
Why does trying to love again
feel like settling?
work in progress
The thought of seeing you again- makes my heart beat faster than it does when I'm in bed with him.
You only text me when you're bored-
and I don't know if it's just a habit neither of us has kicked-
or if you still think of me, when there is no one else.
I'm okay with either really-
either way I must be on your mind.
That counts for something, right?
get the **** out of my head please
There are many
it seems
that are wounded
by life

Yes, wounded
they didn't fall
from a tree
but were beaten

as broken souls
they wander around
unable to tend to their wounds
or inject morphine

but don't cry!
bruises heal
as the roots of burnt grass
spawn regrowth
This blissful ignorance is what blocks the pain
It shuts the mind and turns me numb
Free of all the blame

The perfect world is what my unconscious creates
A barrier of thoughts
Blank stares to freeze the insults

As it slowly shuts itself out,
It sacrifices itself to shield me
Losing control and loosing myself in this sea of nothingness

Insult after beatings
No marks are left
The blades forgotten lost deep in the blank abyss
No new scars to show the spoils of internal war

Just this broken being,
Frozen near the edge
When will I rid myself of this hell
Of this halo of ignorance

This fog crawls forward
Engulfing me in the safety of its arms
Slowly dying to shield what's left of this shell
Dying to save someone who's already dead
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