Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
md-writer Jul 2016
every breath a torch of flame as i look up and see the blue above i want to fly away but no he says and holds my wrist behind me crying blurs the sky i cannot see his hand is sliding slowly slowly down i want to fly i want to fly i want to fly just let me go i cannot speak the ties of painlovefear are tighter on my lips just let me go i want to die there is no place to go to hide to flee inside me nightmares circle vultures breeding vultures breeding vultures breeding vultures and i just want to go just let me go i cannot speak

rising pain and fear i shake he stands there looking and my throat constricts no hands just eyes that's all it takes i want to go i cannot speak don't touch me

shiver quiver fear is king i lose myself the darkness hides it all i look around at nothing so i stay huddled in the corner of my mind i want to go just let me go i want to fly just let me fly

there is no place to go he stands there his hands are sliding sliding down i want to go don't touch me let me go why can't i speak i'm screaming why can't i hear myself i'm dying why won't my blood flow i'm frozen burning dying alive inside myself his hands are warm as hell

too scared to know too crushed to flee i want to fly just let me go don't touch me another face is there smiling kindly just a devil of a different breed i cannot tell he takes me in please please don't let him near i never will you're safe with me i'm just a devil of a different breed so let me in i'll take you dear and make you feel and shape you straight and keep you safe and tell you lies as i hold you tight and touch you touch you don't break free

dead i'm dead i'm dying just let me go God  i cannot anymore no feeling left i can't i can't it's woven into me to fear to lose to break i do not know the devil was so close behind me a shackle on my mind i fear i lose i weep no soaring no blue sky i cannot see the sunset and i know that feeling he is there again a standing shadow at the end of my bed kneeling over looking down i cannot feel i am not here i leave i flee i run i cannot move and smiling looking down at me against the red light i am now in hell i think i will not cannot go i scream i live i die i am not here i am not here just let me go don't touch me touch me i will **** your heart i am not human anymore you killed me let me go i will fly sometime just let me show you and the knife is twisted and i die for real he laughs i hear it as i fade no fear i'm done i'm gone i cannot say goodbye he took me stole me i will never see the light of day

i am woman
i am slave
For all my wounded sisters who cannot speak this horror aloud; may this be your voice.
md-writer Apr 2016
I live on the inside, mostly.
Not on the outside.
I'm learning, more and more.
But yeah.

I am a galaxy of stars,
a universe of stories.
Sitting on the pinnacle of a rocky black spire.
Cross-legged, calm
in the whirlwind of ideas that I think all to myself.

Lines extend out through empty space,
like neurons in infinity -
thought connecting thought with thought
to build a web of life and consciousness,
a twinkling framework for my soul.

I reach to feel the soul of passing threads,
and craft the sparks into some airy nebulae.

Combine, twine. Jump that far synaptic gap.
Connect and catch the pulsing breath:
Idea with idea join.

And from the gauzy mother-thought
I watch the new idea spring,
dancing with that new-found heart-throb dance
and glistening still with birth's fresh fluid
flung
aloft like stars.
The threads, they grow.
To find the greater context.
To live.
To know.

But then eyes fly open.
Space contracts,
Flipping, spinning,
Twisting back into my head.

That place
Is beautiful, I think.
All I see there is my own.
Storms may rage but none can steal the threads that hold the cradle of my soul.
For my mind is a place
that no one else has ever been.
Where no one else will ever be.
-
Sometimes, darling,
I wish that I could take you there...
Unfortunately, the only thing that really gets through the blood-brain barrier is alcohol,
not human souls.

So for now, we'll have to do with words.
My mind is the place that I spin the cocoon of my soul. It is there that idea with idea melds to form an even stronger thread. And no one sees it but me.
md-writer Apr 2016
I’ll love you to pieces just so I can put you together and watch you fly.
md-writer Apr 2016
Fire and fear and falling shadows,
a promise broken and shattered dreams -
the tides break in with rolling billows
and my heart of sand is tossed ashore...

But I will stand once more,
For she is my anchor in the storm.

Kiss my brow and soothe my worries,
take my hand and cast your spell.
Let the demons you have driven from me
cast themselves back into hell;

for you are my anchor in the storm.

When the darkness grows within
you shine your light into my soul:
where the laughing failure whispers
and the future looks so dull.
When I cannot see the morning
and it seems I've lost the fight,
your hand is on my shoulder,
speaking wisdom in the night.

No words can sketch the likeness
and no picture show the form,
but if there's one thing I can say,
it's
You're the anchor in my storm.
To my love. You know who you are.
md-writer Mar 2016
I’m sick of it,
The blasted hordes like dried-out gourds
Screaming, cawing for more water.
Feed the flesh, delight the eyes
Give us our shining fantasy. With flippancy
Strip down past all the layers of
My skill my voice my person,
And then take me, break me, make me
Into someone I am not.
Into something that is not.

Pull the paints out.
Imperfections had their day
Yesterday.
Today we’re going all the way.
Make or break you,
Take and shape you:
Tonight you’ll be the idol of the world.

Set the lights, hold your poise.
There’s a goddess on the stage tonight.
Not a person. Not a voice.
It’s the *** doll’s dance tonight.

But we’ll call it art.

I’m sick of it,
The cursed curve,
Numbers up, so clothes come down; and to think I started out
So innocent.
But the eye of the tiger is broken,
The clearness of crystal is crushed -

and those shards just make the perfect dress!

Crystalize, sterilize,
Put me on a different plane.
Separate, distillate,
Don’t let them see your pain.
“If you have to show you’re broken,
It’s gotta be so you can gain.”
Strip away. Everything.
Don’t show them who you really are.
We need an image for the covers
Not a person. Not a windowpane
Into your soul.

So break free, defying,
Undying.
You’re like a god.
No more trying. True flying
Means no more rules for me.
Don’t let them try to
Defy you:

You are now allowed to breathe free.

But only if you push the line. Flaunt your paints and shine your sparkles, leave behind your decency. You stand before a watching globe It is your job to entertain. So really, you are not your own.

The masses are the masters, though they pay.

So no, there’s no way out for you. There’s only forward
Which is downward. And no chance
To just be you. Because
Your freedom isn’t free.

They just can’t take a faulty human. It would be a let-down,
A break-down.
So let us shove you in a box.
Tell you how you have to be.
If you’re gonna keep your money
And your parody of free.
Then take the stage
Play the part.
There’s no more music
No more art.
Just a mad house, a cat house
Diced up platters serving meat.
Kiss my chains, take my gains,
For all my pains
I still ain’t free.

But still. We’ll call it art.
Can we all just take a moment to hate on the modern music industry (fed and created by the general consensus of consumption) and the abuse it puts (especially female) artists through?
md-writer Sep 2015
cold mist
dark wind
and stench like death's own
firstborn son

i am a shadow
laid to rest
life's long struggle
under stone
and seal of spice

then
****** heat
pulsing light
voice beyond the dark
and stony veil

calling

forth you dead.
come forth

flinty foot
faulty step
to haste, obey the call
and rise
from chained slumber

filtered light
through crossing thread
woven cloth
to wrap the dead

unbind him
set him free

...

and halted there
in frozen time
his hand
has pulled away
a strip
or two
and sight from blindness
has restored

but still
the itch and irk
of grave clothes
not unbound

i feel it all around

a finger moved
an opened eye
the breath of life
and hope to die

to wake again

broken free
of death's cocoon

forever.
before the end is the middle, and there am i, frozen in time, waiting for the consummation
md-writer Aug 2015
please
don't hate on me
but.

i have a confession to make

i've never been depressed
or stuck down in the dumps

and i kinda feel ashamed about it,
like i need to keep it quiet.

and
i've never thought of suicide
or using those X-acto knives

but i kinda wish i had so
i could say
that
i know what it's like

but to be honest
i just can't.

and that bothers me.

because then i want to think
that somehow i'm superior

that i should be the one to help
because i am so obviously

stronger.

so
to those who hurt and struggle
with the pains and fears i don't

please help me to remember,
that my strength is hardly tested
if i haven't walked through nights
when i'm pushing past
fears more dark than when
i just turn off the lights.

help me to remember,
that i still freak out and
lose my mind when everything
comes crashing in

at once

and
help me to remember
that the reason i am here
the way i am
is not because of what i do
but what he did to die for me.

so there you have it.
maybe this makes me a monster with no heart but i really hope i'm not.
Next page