painful to see you
can't hold back my grinding teeth,
striking again and
I'm shocked at myself for not being
honest about the
gravel I chew in your presence.
wondering if I was
ready and pushing myself harder
to try to see you.

all of what I desired so painfully
is suddenly open armed and wanting
me back, won't leave me alone about
it. pouring out your heart now will
only hurt you more, for all that I am
refuses to move anywhere but forward.

you say you want to move forward
and to do so with me, and that you
will let go of the memories, and yet
that is all your soul seems to pour.
all your pen seems to shoot out and
the second I tell you a no instead of a
maybe, you go home and write about
how ****** up I am. Yet when I was
willing to still ******* I was some
sort of goddess. you were "honored"
by my presence. now it seems that
because I am my own person and I
wish to explore whatever excites me
after drowning in my love for you.
hating myself for feeling like I couldn't
live without you, or that love, and
constantly being another object you
could use at your leisure. *******.

everyone makes mistakes.
I made a big one and you made
small ones constantly.
I was going to be calm with the
words I spoke
for you did the same thing I did to you
with someone you claimed to love
who you loved and had been with
for 3 times longer than we've even
known each other.

the more time that goes by since I ripped your heart out
the more I wonder if we ever really knew each other in the first place
the more I see who you really are without the blinding curtain of love
the more time that had gone by since you ripped my heart out,
without even realizing it.
the more time I spent repairing it and returning it to you,
and again, the cycle continued until I physically attacked myself.

"my heart is so raw I think it forgot how to break"

I'm going to be free. I'm not going to dwell.
You said you wouldn't and you're happy and you've moved on,
perhaps it was all a lie you told yourself, perhaps it is true, but
if you don't stop writing **** about me,
then I'll just slam my pen back at you.

often misunderstood
because I'm running.
no more keeping up
with myself.
fevered flowers:
the scent is toxic,
moist petals are
slowly drying as you stare.

love confessions, it's
intelligent not to touch
those thoughts.
my skin screams,
resistance is useless when
a mind is set.
let's enjoy listening to
the wind dancing with water.
abrasive weather
whichever way you stretch.

calm bleeding
only the eyes are shocked.
ultimatums of
healthy habits
only make the sickness creep
harder to keep
back from the surface.
sharp neglect    
there's a lot of goodness here.

cornered commitment
maybe all these tricks aren't magic.
ill tricks in disguise
all encountered is an illusion.
take time
see what pleases and let all else fade
or pass through the transparent torture
that is easily forgotten.

sweet spins
strong arms encase a shattered weakness.
strong sense
for breaking shells built based on fear.
some sanity
in telling the truth boils into insanity.
sane souls
just want crushing cement for breakfast.
smashed spine
twisted into fine petals which cracked.
slowly sweetly
the wind poured down upon the fire.
sweat soured
each hand that reached for another.
screaming search
eye to eye to soul to heart to ache to no.

frightened frustrations
confusion will keep the puppets hanging in waiting.
suspended in space, it's not a race.
a test in patience which will soon be aced.

my days are long like mothers nails,
the light smiles I fall asleep to wake
the demons, which I feel are slowly
dragging me down.
                               listen to yourself.
transcend what you think to be true
and create truth with all that you do.
I won't hurt myself if you don't, not
only
because
we
promised.

I want to fall asleep to your light and
wake up to it. If your demons awake,
push them away. you're stronger than
you think.
                 let's make as little sense as possible
              and try not to ask or answer anything.
that's something I might be too good at.
just like thinking.
and contradicting.
I often say I'd rather think too much than not enough.
something painful
to live out daily. I
feel a small sense of rewarding for my abundant thought,
and a large amount
of surprise at the lack.

take it or leave it.
it's all an illusion.

my skin is splintered,
it's not the wood inside of me.
maybe's are seeping through
my heart holes.
all form is out to play, I'm on
the 19th hole of destruction.

experiencing myself
empty of desires,
yet continuing to fulfill my promises
and keep myself alive and active.

hard work
isn't as bad if you meditate,
formulating ideas while sifting through memories.
a strange form of meditation while cleaning houses,
yet all the same distracting from the present reality
until you're on your way home with the funds to
provide healthy food, shelter, and a bit of recreation.

hard work
is barreling towards me.
I am planning to jump over and on top of that wheel
which I was in constant fear of and conquer it.
Not only for myself, but for the ones I care for.
If I cannot be there for myself and conquer my
own demons, then I cannot be there for others
to help them conquer theirs. If I am a poison I
shall only continue to seep into those I hold closely, I
refuse to any more. I'm
withstanding.

I will fight the major influences which rest within my being,
I will trim down the fat to create the muscles to carry myself.
No more leaning.

I am standing on my own two feet.

Until I can control my desires,
I cannot stand with you. Until
I let go of desires and just be.
Strength will help me to let go of the
poisonous cracks in the morals I have
so easily let sink beneath me.

I recognized myself as the person on a horse,
while the horse is up to it's eyes in mud, as
I continue to whip the horse to move forward,
rather than getting off and helping it out.

I realize now that I am the only one who can bury my strength,
just as I can choose to let it carry me. I have found that perhaps
instead I should be carrying my strengths so as to only grow more
powerful, within and without, so that if I need to set it down to
help rescue another's, I shan't be just as helpless.

here's to building on top of what is, rather than taking apart
what was, so as to create something new out of the old.

creation's purpose is beauty  
destruction is wasteful

let us create and if we are finished
move on to the next creation,
rather than continuing to
poke and **** at the old.

The excitement of not knowing.
Curiosity has got me on my knees;
you are a bundle of learning.

The descriptions in which I dictate thought
are nothing more or less in which the way
you think, and the only difference between us
is the fact that I say them aloud.

Love is loud, yet knowledge is knocking.
Perhaps
touching is feeling, and
knowing is believing.

I find that I strive for more than
which it is that I accept.

Although,
I accept more than what it is that
I wish to accept.
Wishing to attract what's apart from me,
simply because of a few common interactions,
and the comfort it brings.

I love in many ways, some that are destructive,
(which I acknowledge), and others that help me
to breathe, think, write, and speak.

Although others doubt the power which I can share,
I will continue to carelessly be the person which I am.

Willingly trying to give up on being the person which
others tell me I should be, or rather, neglecting the "who"
in which others think I cannot succeed.

Friends are special and sacred,
I find love in all cracks,
and I accept the dark,
settling,
I am.

Love is in all places,
all faces,
all things.

Give yourself up and be,
manifest.

it's strange how easily one can convince themselves
to do anything, especially things they'd rather not.