thoughts fragment
until hardening to cement
locking me in fear

I asked for your hands
You gave me knives

I asked for the truth
You gave me lies

I asked for laughter
I was given cries

I asked for honesty
I was awakened by infidelity

I asked for hope
I was given ropes

I asked for a little rest
I was given death

We spend all our time being jealous
For things that are not really ours
We beg for another perspective
To guide us without leaving scars
But we are the slaves and the martyrs
The ones who will never obtain
A simple oblivion ending
The heightening level of pain
And this be our chosen confession
The one we have kept on our tongues
"I want to be everyone else's"
*"I want to collapse my own lungs"

Did I do something to upset god? Or did I do something to upset the devil? Either way, I’m affected. I don’t know how to fix it. At least not on my own. I’ve admitted it now. I’m not strong enough on my own. But who will help? Who can I trust? I’m too hardheaded to understand or let the help sink in deep. Why am I so stubborn? Why can’t I get help? Wait. That’s a lie. I can. It just won’t help me. Help that doesn’t help. Sadness that keeps getting sad. Darkness that gets darker. But an end that just won’t come.

And did those sorry feet bleed as you left.
Walking slowly.
Charismatic in their wake.
As oblivion so obvious calls.
Cherished dream of kindness died.
Not sorry nor sad.

A special kind.
Door closed locked tight.
Charitable ways disembowelled.
As vultures chew flesh from beautiful bones.
Discarded in sorrow's wake.
Pray not become forsaken.
For she shall not.

She will not wallow in lost dreams.
Woman will create anew.
Adam's apple choked him.
Drowned in saliva.
One long acidic flow.
Tongue twisted.
Virtually removed.

She wants no whisky nor no wine.
To live no more a silly lie.
Believing in nothing more or less.
Than wait and see.

When at seventy I reflect upon the love we felt.
The tragic wasted hands were dealt.
Without regret.
Be it alone or as one of two.
Poet man I shan't forget you!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

The great thing
is not having
a mind. Feelings:
oh, I have those; they
govern me. I have
a lord in heaven
called the sun, and open
for him, showing him
the fire of my own heart, fire
like his presence.
What could such glory be
if not a heart? Oh my brothers and sisters,
were you like me once, long ago,
before you were human? Did you
permit yourselves
to open once, who would never
open again? Because in truth
I am speaking now
the way you do. I speak
because I am shattered.