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What if one day
All of the broken hearts
Could find each other
And help each other
Stitch them back
Together?
I'm not sure how
Or why
Or where.
But people keep saying
Time heals all things
And that is a lie.
It is not okay
To make me go on
This broken.
I do,
But that's not the point.
Find me,
Maybe we can all
Figure it out.
For many years my friends would say I was easy to read,
they could always tell,
they would say,
what I was feeling,
when I was lying.

I would laugh and agree,
say lying just wasn't my specialty,
when really,
it's all I ever did.

I would hide my sadness,
not wanting to bog down others with it,
it was my baggage,
and I must carry it alone.

Over the years I formed a mask,
one I still wear to this day,
however,
when you are always wearing a mask,
you see things differently.

Slowly I started noticing all of the masks around me,
whenever I walked outside there was a masquerade,
of fake emotions,
empty smile.

I was able to see through the front people used to keep the world out,
and sometimes I was able to get in,
and help.

It's not always necessary to point them out,
sometimes,
a warm smile,
is all someone needs.

I'm still trapped though,
in my mask,
and its dark and lonely in here.

I want nothing more than for someone to come save me,
rip my mask off,
and embrace me as I am,
not as what I show.

I guess I'm a far better liar than everyone things,
because I am always able to keep my pain so far inside,
that even I sometimes forget it's there.
hearing Shakespeare,
my-own-voice
crack'd, stilted,
stuttered-shut by the
mocking silence of still
waters on the brain

poverty exposed,
raggedy verbiage for a
raggedy man's
frayed fringed garments

ashamed of
every word I ever wrote,
not even ten survivors,
not enough to pray collectively
for muse~forgivement

****,
hush me not,
no chairs turned,
the public has not texted,
new tattoo:
write on for audience of one

a necessity, a life sentence

a single topic, a subject,
a life, mine,
still unmastered,
decades of trying

poverty exposed, unmasked
for what it is worth,
or what it is not
 Mar 2014 Roisin Sullivan
Renae
Crawl
That's what you wanted
When you decided from the start
Torture
was the method
When you sabotaged my heart
 Mar 2014 Roisin Sullivan
A
Phantom tickings of hours laid awake staring at white blank wall ,
You see u am not here,
I have been gone for what seems like forever
I don't know who Iam anymore
You have injected into me flowing through my veins like lead
I am weighed down 
Heavy heart 
clinging on to old memories like a child holding a mothers hand in a bussling city sidewalk 
I knew I'd loose myself without your guidance
Weighed down in bed 
I've realized how big my bed is how much youve consumed every inch of me
Raw and scratched 
inside out you've severed my vocal cords 
I can't even objectify to your injustice 
Youve crawled out 
And for some ******* reason I still sleep with your sweaters hoping that they'll start to smell like you
I smoke your brand of cigarettes hoping that you'll call before I OD 
I love you to the point where I hate you
 Mar 2014 Roisin Sullivan
A
Dear ******,

I ******* hate you
I ******* HATE you
You ******* rot my loves
Inside out
Leaving death holes and track marks
Killing their teeth to Swiss cheese
******* nodding to sleep in the back seat
I ******* hate you
You ******* double crossing *****
You make them love and forget
Til then don't anymore
Cold and shivering
 you leave these "outcast junkies quivering 
To steal for their next 2 minute fix 
You ******* stole my loves from me 
Through their noses
Inhaling your bitter vinegar 
Shooting your warmth
I'm so ******* sick of you killing the kids I use to build sandcastles with
I ******* cry how you've infected old friends and lovers
Dear ******, 
I ******* hate you.
You need to,
have the nightmare,
to,
appreciate the dream.
they all turn up as friends at first
our friendly and warm-hug super powers
with their supercilious smiles and handouts
they come with nice words and packages
and promise of development and infrastructure
and bearing gifts and loans
and remarking on affinities
and history and culture
and they throw in aid and money
and promise of riches and wealth
but they all turn bad guys
all these friendly super powers
they want  a presence first
and then
you are theirs, time present and future
they turn up with new-year fireworks and promises
and then they want to invade your country
and they want to make you theirs
they all turn up bad guys
don't they
these friendly super powers -
and their warm hugs turn into bear hugs
Her
15
Minutes
Of
Fame
Came
Only
After
She
Was
6
Feet
Under
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