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I wish nothing but
the best for you.
But I'm glad I wasn't
the best for you.
 Feb 2018 Lauren Johnson
Vela
Wordless
We fell back
Soothing subtleties
In the touch of
Finger tips against
Faces

Was there ever a time before this?
The scars on my wrist have faded but the intent remains the same, in theory, not in practice. I bury my body in handfuls of dirt that was never good for growing, that would never sustain life.

You always ask if I'm okay but it's earth that crumbles past my lips instead of words so I shake my head and climb out of my grave as if it never even happened, and still you remain under my nails, in every bump and bend of my body.

I showered for three hours yesterday, my wrinkled fingers wiped steam from the mirror to reveal a dirt stained face that will never be clean of you.
Gray walls and gray beds
Sun could smile
But it’s dead

Wind could talk
But it’s to quiet

Heart could feel
Yet it just beats instead

Mind and memories
Drowning out the things around
Eyes they close, to not feel so bound

The brush I raise
Out of these cold hands of mine
Paint as you please Lindsey
Paint the things you like

Why don’t you paint the sun a golden yellow shining on you
And paint the sky a nice shade of blue

With a line of orange, purple and pink
Along to the bottom of the dark, glassy sea
Paint what you see

I open my eyes to find a room full of color
The wind from my window and the sun from the sky
find one another

A hand on my heart
Something I once tried to hide
A brand new start
I found hope inside
I tasted every bitter lie
As you shoved them down my throat
Now I'm full of poison-soaked phrases
Badly in need of an antidote

Lost promises rest in my abdomen
Next to the deception I was fed
I need a cure for untrue words
Before this illness renders me dead

Fallacies come crawling back up
Venom rising in my windpipe
Sick to my stomach with acceptance
Your falsehoods have become overripe

I can't contain the toxic deceit
It's overflowing from my gut
Excuses pour out from my mouth
Alibis Ive managed to rebut

The ***** burns my weary tongue
Sour as it leaves my lips
Betrayal has me feeling queasy
Unwell from hearing your rehearsed scripts

My stomach empties it's contents
Spewing intricate facades
Until it is rid of all the
Charades, illusions, and frauds

Infected with dishonesty
My body is rocked by unease
I've taken a turn for the worse
Consumed by this relentless disease

This virus I have come down with
Takes it's toll on my heart and mind
I grow more fatigued each day
But relief I have yet to find

Chills, shakes, soreness, and migraines
Plague my organs, bones, and skin
My muscles are endlessly cramping
I loathe the fever I'm burning in

I do not know why I feast on your
contaminated reality
I'm sure if I continue to
I will soon be a fatality

My health is deteriorating
Still i dine on fantasies unreal
I hope for a miracle pill but
My flesh may not be able to heal

I fear I'll be plagued as long as I
Swallow your lies, deranged and uncouth
The cure I have been longing for
is a simple medicine called Truth
Ignorance is bliss. That may be true but truth is understanding. And what is happiness worth if you do not truly understand it?
i would do anything
to have your lips stutter my name
let your words grasp my hand
watch your eyes search for mine.

to wait for you is impossible yet divine
when we exist in places
so far from where we are destined.

we are parallel lines

i would do anything
for us to be a painting instead
i'd color you in hues of unrequited love
and put us on a frame
i'll give it to you and say

'keep it. keep us. keep me'

'why'

'because we are so much more than just parallel lines'
finally found the inspiration to write again. i believe sorrow brings out the poet in everyone.
You wouldn't just leave,
that was never gonna be enough for you.

You wanted to drag my soul through the pits of misery,
have it's beauty carved on glass...
...because you knew just how easily it could break.

You wanted to take every part of me there was to take,
just so you could rip me to shreds...
...leaving me in pieces
that could never mend.

Little did you know that I was already detached from my being...
...the moment you thought you were becoming one with it.

That I was so estranged from the person you knew...
...because I was already becoming someone you would never get to know.

You took all there was to take,
not because you had that power over me,
but rather
because I gave up what was no longer necessary for my existence.
The beauty of pain is often found in acknowledging its lesson(s).
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