My beautiful ******* monster
My delicate orchid of raging war
Our time has not yet
Run out, because -
Beyond right and wrong
Beyond out dated concepts of
Good and evil
I will find the space inside
Deep in the middle, and
Hidden betwixt infinite worlds
A field of wildflower rainbows
With ribbons of colors swaying
Art forms dancing
The song a peaceful wind
Come, My love! Seek me out!
We will be reunited there, after
This moment, this then and gone
Timeless blink has lifted its eyelids
Mine, yours, ours and
Everyone, just the
Energy and passion
The true  existence beneath
The love of The Universe,
Our igniting force; a lullaby
Melody so perfect, created
And our laughter following, when
We realize the truth, see
What is genuine existence;
Remember our essence, our truth
And are restored
Because we are dualistic
We have been split apart -
Temporarily severed from
Our eternal state of being
Where we burn as
Our own selves and yet
We are also each other
And when our souls collide
We will once again be made whole
In the infinite, My Love
We are in fact already
Reunited in our love there
More beautiful than before

It's been nearly seven years since we first met
Memories a jumbled blur of discontent

I've let the uglies swoop and swirl about
Preserving my calm, my silence more days than not
A toxic attempt for securing peace
With only a mere handful of drunken outbursts;
Alcohol the doorway to displeasure leaking
To melancholy creeping, precursors to the eruption of my hidden turmoils
Breaking free from their cage of suppression

Pretending not to notice as pebbles -
even boulders
Of mephitic waste began to dimple our bond
A connection already held by fragile, whispy strands
For convenience, I denied and ignored -
with such vehemence!
The growing weight of the unacknowledged stones
Unfortunate truths granted undisputed leave from my cognizance
Moments to days to this verge of seven years

This burden of ignorance has grown heavier than I can continue to bear
And fewer of the rocks can be hidden away
The truth of the sickness living amongst us;
The severity of the cancerous tumor
Spreading like wildfire,
Turning all that I am into blackened smears
of unsalvageable ash

Now after years of slowly fading away, and
Parts of who I was obliterated beyond repair
I stand in shock, and bundled in shame
Over how I've allowed you to treat me
The complete control my negligence (allowed?) You to take
And while I blame you for the bullets you used
To shoot down my self worth and vibrancy
I blame myself for the self loathing,
Already quite enough in the very beginning
To hand you every key you needed to
Unlock and dismantle me

I'm too tired to mine a shard of empathy from the darkened cave protecting my heart
And the time to repair the fractures has passed
Your words and accusations, throwing the blame on me, even as you beg me to stay
I'm sorry but this time I cannot stay
I have to salvage the remains of me before I'm entirely dust
And admit to everyone, but myself most of all,
That some things were just never meant to be saved.

**** this nonsense
I used to be
I was a human
I had feeling
Now I'm empty
Without words
My language fails me

I settled for you
And I closed up
Like a cocoon
But this butterfly is dying
I don't think
I don't
That this butterfly is going to emerge

You've pushed me so far down
I've forgotten who I am
You're murdering my soul
Shredding my essence

And I didn't notice
I just forgot
I forgot I was a living being

But now I see
And I will fight
I will brawl
Until my death
To set myself free
And be who I am

How did I forget?

pushing, pulling
stretching, contracting
so back and forth
almost as if
our relationship is
made of rubber bands

so I am trying
training myself
to be more flexible
but there's something
I can't seem to
accept; I can't
just let go and not
dwell on with
such unproductive
worry, worrying...

how long do I possess?
just how long until
this rubber band grows
brittle and snaps?
how long until
we're devoid of our
elasticity
and left with
only scrap bits
of ugly little pieces
repulsive grey shreds
scattered about randomly
- mere garbage, serving
as nothing more
than so much *******
littering our floors?

maybe I should
just ask this -
how much time
are you capable
of giving to me
without your being
within my presence
a forced effort?
and not a
personally desired
behavior of choice?

because, you see
although I will hold out
until the last
moment possible
I want to have
at the least, a
meager pathetic hint
warning me and
giving me time
to prepare
my mind and
my scar-riddled heart
for another lashing
so I won't be
entirely broken and
worthless when you
go and break it
break and shatter
chip another chunk away
from what little
I have left
that deformed glob
of an *****
pumping my blood
throughout my veins
and keeping me
a lost ******
I loathe this that
I am already
a weak, ugly
prisoner of my
own malicious
and traitorous
****** beating heart

I'm writing you a note
just because
because I'm feeling like
I have to
feeling like I'm
helpless here
and without your rough
forceful touch
I'm angry and aching
craving my bittersweet
agonies
wickedness creeping up
from the black hole
that hides behind
my human skin
please
pathetic and weak
though I likely seem
I'm willing to beg
down on my knees
grated concrete
scraping against my flesh
scratched and bloodied
and I'm pleading
make your palms, your
fingertips, piercing stings
hold me down
**** me and take any
notions of my possessing
power far away
make me see how
I'm nothing, just
worthless and infuriating
and you, so much like a god
why yes, you're the god
god of everything
so break me down
and rip me
limb from limb
and seam by seam
for I am merely a
servant girl
and you've the part
of the cruel king
come to me now
please come
come and punish me
I am nothing, lost
perplexed thoroughly
without you to bring me
to life
for I only become truly alive
in moments of raw abuse
so won't you come now
please
you strong, glorious man
and help me live awhile
inside the blood and bruises
that'll be left by
your pounding, ******
hands
you're exactly the one
I want to deliver
deserved consequences for
my countless sins
a beating into submission
my soul
for a little while, at least
alert and cleansed
pleasure me by flooding me
in an ocean of  hurt
every wave some new sort
of pain
your lessons are the single
part of my existence
I long for so desperately
most passionately crave
I'm begging, come
now please
remember me, helpless here
and share the beauty
only your own source
your inner darkness can so
easily create

It's cold and it's empty, this
hollowed out feeling of pleasure...
I focus on the rush of desire -
desire for the sensations alone...
The sweet friction in my center,
the pounding force of what is
you, merely a tool for my cravings'
fulfillment; an object for nothing
but my physical satisfaction;
a satiating of my burning lust...
You're worthless to me outside
this externally needful task...
Not my heart, neither my soul,
have even the smallest holding
pocket, cradling some sort
of love or care for you...
Tell me, please, why we do
this to ourselves, over and
over, again and again...?
Are we honestly contented by
the passionless movements of
our graceless pieces and parts?
Is this animalistic ritual
the solution for what we so
desperately search for; that for
which we agonizingly struggle,
crawling down confused, tangled
paths, looking without knowing
exactly what we seek,
despairing, sickly, exhausted, and
so pathetic; so pitifully weak??
Are we satisfied with *******?
Just *******: could that be
the answer to the question
that, from existence becoming,
the human being has been,
from the depths of the soul,
constantly, repetitively screaming?
I cannot bring myself to
believe such a notion could hold
a sand grain's worth of truth, but
you seem to have accepted
this joyless, hope-crushing idea,
and as for myself, I know
I'll only continue ignoring that
which my heart keeps urgently
speaking with a driving,
whispering voice, from my
inner-most recesses, and
continue on with the oblivious
dance of this pretending; this
charades game all the world
eagerly strives to play...
I will bottle the juices of
my self-deceiving, self-depriving
fruits, borne of my guilt, my
denial birthed shame...
Yes, of course! I'm absolutely
satisfied with the act of
mere *******! Feelings of
wholeness sweep and flutter,
butterflying the insides
of my body's unseen puzzle pieces,
and I'm simply overflowing
with this ever so peaceful calm...
Lies, fiction, deception, robed
by willfully grasped ignorance,
keeps us marching, two-by-two,
silently miserable husks, just
living until it's time to lay
in another void-like place, this
one our grave, lonely and cold...
And now it doesn't seem like
there's anything left, for
any one of us, to say...

I'm so cold without you possessing that piece of myself
I was perfectly warm before you though; there weren't self requirements
So there must be a way I might rediscover freedom now that you're gone
And reawaken my inner freedoms, that've always lived, all on my own