I know sometimes
When night time's nigh,
A moment comes
And makes you sigh-
and languid are unfocused eyes,
They do not see, but look inside.
And they perceive another scene,
A memory or else a dream.

Or is it that you hear a song
like woven canticle goes on?

Two voices blend in melody
that pulls the heart insistently,
till nothing else can then be heard
not butterfly, nor yet a bird.
One song goes on into the night
in endless perfect flawless flight.
And so, may this song ever be.
This song is you, this song is me.

Don't listen to me; my heart's been broken.
I don't see anything objectively.

I know myself; I've learned to hear like a psychiatrist.
When I speak passionately,
That's when I'm least to be trusted.

It's very sad, really: all my life I've been praised
For my intelligence, my powers of language, of insight-
In the end they're wasted-

I never see myself.
Standing on the front steps. Holding my sisters hand.
That's why I can't account
For the bruises on her arm where the sleeve ends ...

In my own mind, I'm invisible: that's why I'm dangerous.
People like me, who seem selfless.
We're the cripples, the liars:
We're the ones who should be factored out
In the interest of truth.

When I'm quiet, that's when the truth emerges.
A clear sky, the clouds like white fibers.
Underneath, a little gray house. The azaleas
Red and bright pink.

If you want the truth, you have to close yourself
To the older sister, block her out:
When I living thing is hurt like that
In its deepest workings,
All function is altered.

That's why I'm not to be trusted.
Because a wound to the heart
Is also a wound to the mind.

Awkward Phase



A social pariah

Is that who I am?

A lonely- lone wolf…

Or a long lost lamb?

Attacked

For what I lack…

Or for straying

From the pact?

Held in exile

But I had no plans

Of coming back…

Cut from a different cloth

Sown into a new design

Since when…

Did it become a crime-

To have your own mind?

So unique- it hurts

Been this way since birth

There is no need

For you to measure me

I already know my worth

I know what I deserve

I’m never clumsy with my words

I decided to go my own way

While you follow the herd

I’m different

Always have been-Always will be

There’s a beauty in being an outcast

You don’t have to agree

It seems to me

This is no passing craze

My life will always be

One hug awkward phase

Spider web crick-cracks on eggshell skin
Raggedy Ann rag doll made of porcelain
Second-hand bruises, scratches, scuffs, and knicks
In the healing shields of my hands, quick enough to fix
Super glue and elbow grease I knew would save the day
So full of good intentions, I carried her away
The best laid plans of mice and men, all buggered by my feet
The jingly song of transience played out on cold concrete
A mindless second's trip-up, the crystal princess killed
Her splintered features looked up, haunt my memory still
Lips forever frozen, screaming "Please, no more!"
In kaleidoscopic pieces scattered on the floor

I'm the dust of forgotten stars;
The smoke between your lips;
The shivers on your spine

Frozen to the bone
But my heart is aflame
My mind shudders
And my soul is to blame

We're all fighting our own battles
And I try to keep that in mind
But how long can I go
Without people realizing
That I've already lost mine

The smell of a guy you're about to kiss; his breath, his eagerness, his lust radiating out of his inner being

Suicide note: butterfly wings are so beautiful and soft, so unlike living

A girl frightened by her own shadow but not her death
A girl that does not fear death but craves it

Being cremated and having your ashes spread throughout the world is so beautiful; you can finally go wherever you want; you are finally free

We all perish
There's no denying
We're living our lives
But we're already dying

Why would you waste your life
On a girl
That's wasting away?

Love lost is still love
Just the way that a downpour is still just rain

I am envious
Of the sheets and bed that you sleep in
They get to wrap you up
And hold you in ways I never could

Somewhere in between
The 2 AM nightmares
And
The empty passenger seats
I fell apart.
And I don't know
If I can be fixed.

My life isn't real;
I'm a hallucination;
My body is a dream;
And my soul an illusion

This fire is consuming me
My veins are ablaze
My lungs are nothing but smoke
My thoughts have turned to ash
I'm being burned alive

Tendrils of smoke
Surrounding my mind
Like a crown of amnesia
The only thing I remember
Is to say that I'm fine

Her soul is broken, tangled, intertwined with those of the lost, the dead.