why are there people who believe its "poetic" to self harm
it frightens me that there are teenagers who are doing this
to themselves, they're self harming because they think it
is "darkly beautiful" or "sadly romantic" there is nothing
beautiful about the scars covering my skin there is nothing
romantic about being terrified someone, anyone, might see
them, these lines of weakness, that i've placed there myself
it's an addiction, a sick way i clean my head, because
the thoughts jumble up, thoughts of; missing, emptiness,
time, space, names, locations, people, dates, stories, sadness
wrongness, hurt, longing, hate, self loathing, destructiveness
i am no where near proud i fell this deep into a hole this dark
i'm scared of being close to people, i shut myself away,
starving myself to reach "perfection"
because maybe if i am skinny enough to be considered "perfect"
then people wont care, wont notice the pink and purple lines
covering my form. no. there is nothing poetic about sadness
nothing. so stop convincing yourself you want to be a sad
lonely, scared, self destructive "poet"

If enough tears leak past them,
The eyes lose their temper, and either bar the floodgates completely
Or throw them wide apart
Allowing all the migrants through.

If you allow a hurt to harm your heart,
It sends you a warning,
Arrhythmia, inducing anxiety
angrily - it cannot take too much.

If you refuse to feed, or water it,
Your body will turn on you,
Weakness, cramps and spasms
Fainting, sweating, pallor, shakes.

Your body does not care about your broken soul.
It's selfish, and wants to be nurtured, and loved,
So love it, there is no-one else to do it,
And if you let it rebel, you will have lost another
More precious than the first.

To escape this life
This stress
These schedules and time
My dream
My wish
Impossible yet
Yet
I want it so badly
Sunset
Warmth
To lay next to you
And to escape this infuriatingly repetitive
Stressful life

My breath reaches for the stars
Creating clouds to obscure their vanity
But my fingertips pull me closer to the cement
And knowing that the last step is longing than the rest
Is helpful on the way up
But soon forgotten on the way back
Down
Dirt gets in between my toes
As I run towards comfort
That may or may not be
The
Fantasies of a child's mind
Playing hop-scotch
In a teenagers body
In a teenagers life
Walking down the
Hall
At school
Pretending that you cared enough
To carry my books
Even if my class is on the other side of the school
But
There
Aren't even books that are able to be carried
Especially by you
Because you don't even know what classes I'm taking
And all I'm asking of you
Is
To treat me like you did before
When you still thought you needed
To gain my love
Because just cause you have it
Doesn't mean I can't take it away
All I'm asking of you
Is some time for
A
Heart to grow open
And consume the love it's given
The love I offered you
But threw away
All I'm asking of you
Is to be a
Man
And own up to your feelings no matter how small
Because this might come as a shock
But you need me
And I can do without someone
Who
Wants the world on a string
Without ever casting his hook
Into the depths of his mind
Where he will
Never
Find the questions he is looking to ask
To match the answers he already knows.
Your head
Sleeps
On a pillow too far from mine
Yet I wish you could be farther
Because we only seem to work when
We have something holding us back
And I don't know
How
This came to be
But dysfunctional as it is
As we are
As
I
Am
I wouldn't want it any other way
And the stars in the sky scream for my
Wish
But I'll never tell the sky
It is far too vast
Far too many souls to tell
And not enough heart for me
So maybe
I
Will tell the blades of grass
I pulled out of the earth
While listening to silence
Because we never needed to say anything
Maybe I
Could
Tell the flies that circled my head
That night it all seemed like it was over
And it was all starting
In one breath
And I wish the planets would
Be
A bit more forgiving
But they remember everything
Every letter I threw out there
Like
A bird from a nest
That would never be able to fly
Just to see if they could float
But I guess my wings will never be strong enough for
**Him

As you walked through that door
With the smell of liquor fresh on your tongue
The anger of a man in your heart
You made me halt and muse
Will he ever quit?
My lover lost in the world of *****
Addicted to the lost feeling in the soul
Numbness that came with it all
But as he drank bottle after bottle
He forgot
He forgot me
His beautiful wife

He would come and plot
Which object should I beat her with tonight?
Should I throw he out the window?
Or should I take the time to hurt her slowly and painfully?
Just so I can hear her beautiful cry of pain

I knew what he was going to do tonight
But as the scared little fool that I was
I would just back down not say a word
Take the beating as it was my own fault
For being born
For living my life without a care
For letting him in
For letting him hurt me
For letting him lock me up
For letting him drink
For letting him **** me...

She looked the child in the eyes. Salt water lined the edges, forming droplets down her rosy cheeks. She saw streets, poverty and auto focused lives. But what drew her the most was not what tales she could read but the story the child longed to create with a will and passion that had been long swept from our towns. The want to still survive even as the bombs echoed through all her nights. She said to the child "you have not burned out. We are all flames. We sway and flicker. Lower and then still rise because we are too fierce to let the foolish tide of ignorance cool the heat that fights inside." She couldn't possibly have known it then but with her words, she saved that child's life and began the chain of events that altered the course of history.

(C) Tiffanie Doro