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Pen Lux Sep 7
The words beyond me
are very well known.
Despite the lack
of presence shown.
It's taken time, and
pain, and sorrow,
to find myself growing,
no longer dreading tomorrow.
Inside of me
resides a feast of
Love, and Pain,
and so much Trauma.
Yes, it's been stewing.
I'm no longer brewing.
I've long awaited
for the calm,
To be able to say:
the storm I became has abated.
No longer jaded
As words bloom
because they're releasing meaning.
I'm no longer full of hatred.
No longer fearing to be hated.
For the poison I gathered
wasn't only me who it effected
and left tattered, shattered, and confused.
During my drinking I wasn't the only one abused,
or misused.
My heart couldn't take the pain
of what broken pieces left remained.
I was never taught, skilled or trained
to deal with life beside
intentions that truly mattered.
Broken ribs, contusion contained chest,
small *******, big brained, lungs stained,
soul shaking, adventure-seeking fearful heart,
child with no father, no mother, no sister or brother.
Afraid to speak because she's said too much, a crutch.
Crutch upon the Devil's flame. Crutch upon his name.
All that I distained became all that I obtained.
Creation is a work of art if it comes from within the heart.
Yet with a heart full of poison, hellbent on consumption,
feeling empowered by destruction, self-hating coward,
shallow affections that were showered.
As I am
no longer drinking myself downward
and see myself moving forward I've
found that everything matters
(again).
Nothing lost it's meaning as I felt that
I could remain strong against others,
while at the same time self-defeating.
No longer holding onto pain.
I've begun to release
(again).
There's no mercy left for being shattered.
No more shattering, slashing, smashing,
self-hating suicidal tendencies or fantasies.
No, I am not healed fully.
No, I am not all knowing.
No, I am not perfect.
No, I am not giving up.
No, I am not going backwards
for sifting through the memories.
I must sift through to lift through
this heaviness.
I must walk this steep mountain
that seemingly leads
as far away as
to the birth of our galaxies.
Full of lessons unknown
I must create and be shown.
I must abstain from the comforts created within my pain.
Yes, I will open my heart once again
and I will not turn away when the reality hurts
just as much as I'm about to explain.

Pros come and go. I want for them to stay.
Not in my mind, but on the page anyway.
Pen Lux Dec 2022
the bark
in my peeling
is revealing
what I'd rather hide

what's inside?
something sweet
yet not a bite

what's in your mind?
held in your mouth
please spell it out

share with your lips
not just in a kiss
what's in your heart
as I tear apart
my present from my past
to move forward at last

I have come to you
and long
to take you
caress you
undress you from within
and return you to my heart
Pen Lux Sep 2022
Here I am
made of lumber
splinters are my skin
burns and cuts of summer days
paint peeling in the grass
wasps bites and termites
as I wither, swell and ache
bones that burst
when lightning strikes
my eyes are bluer still
I pierce the flood
of phoenix tears
as green turns grey
not fit for lungs
or meant to breathe
when holding comes easy
and heartbeats tatter at an acres pace
one after the other after the other
until my home is not my own
the streets no longer paved with pain
the torture leather, silver spared
on a platter, love prepared
a forest for a mother
a sun for a father
and a son to love me like none other
Pen Lux Aug 2022
today there is time
a handful of options to choose from.
this restlessness has been dissolved
with people that help me to rest
so that this forgetfulness processed.

I found myself chugging down opinions
from people who speak with broken teeth,
finding clarity through curled toes in washed clothes,
roughed up shoes, and coconut stains.
june 2012
Pen Lux Aug 2022
tough break, my love
you can't shake my love.
I've awoken to hot rain
skin humid
eyes tired
wanting to see you.

I'm growing, my love
I can't stop, my love.
Pen Lux Aug 2022
the first time in a month, I see you
and my heart collapses upon itself
a million times over.
what a wonderful experience, to be
tortured with love so timid it doesn't
recognize itself
Pen Lux Aug 2022
I dreamt I wrote a poem
instead, I woke to ***** dishes
homework, missing you, and
avoiding spliffs. I hold my coffee
tight, **** in my bloated belly,
and squeeze into jeans so I don't freeze
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