Disheveled and groggy, I wake to your smile as you calmly run your hand over your face.
Tired eyes meet mine and I welcome you.
I grasp my pillow when I am urged to hold you;
You are not mine.
Your eyes are focused on your phone and impulse begs me to take it,
throw it to the side,
and kiss you.
It beckons me to distract you from the hectic that has been your recent days.
I clench my pillow.
You turn your attention to me and ask what the matter is.
The anger dissipates from your clouded eyes when landing on me.
As dim as the room is, it reminds me of moonlight.
Soft, embracing.
Instead of responding, I trace the flames on your right forearm.
In this moment, I am warm.
You do not further in asking, instead you lean your head against mine and let out an exasperated sigh.
My free hand clenches my pillow.
Inside I am imploring,
"I want to love you how she never could.
"I want to love you purely.
"I want to love you wholesome."
Instead, I softly press my lips against the tattoo I was tracing.
Your fingers loosely find their way to mine, and we lay.
Quietly,
Comfortably.
I recite the moment I kiss your lips.
I plan it, step by step.
Perfectly.
Doubt drowns me out and while our lips are mere inches apart,
this is not the moment I will close the gap.
I instead bring my eyes to yours and scream every emotion I am feeling.
You grin softly at me and lay your head down, closing your eyes.
I lazily drape an arm across your chest and you drift off with an arm around me.
As you drift away to the sleep you **** well deserve,
I whisper all of the things I'd never tell
you
while you
were
awake.

I feel so sentenced by your words
I feel so judged and sent away,
Before I go, I've got to know
Is that what you meant to say?
Before I rise to my defense,
Before I speak in hurt or fear,
Before I build that wall of words,
Tell me, did I really hear?
Words are windows, or they're walls
They sentence us, or set us free.
When I speak and when I hear,
Let the lovelight shine through me.
There are things I need to say,
Things that mean so much to me,
If my words don't make me clear,
Will you help me to be free?
If I seemed to put you down,
If you felt I didn't care,
Try to listen through my words,
To the feelings that we share.
-Ruth Bebermyer

Everything is gone now, just a jack-in-the box that scares
money's already wasted, **** it I never cared,
as usual this life has leadened, sped up my sorry death -
a song written for the heartbreakers; sung upon my last breath

bloated and black, happiness not as it seemed
destroying the gift that for years I've dreamed,
she gave me her heart and I slashed it wide open
for its clear to see I cannot love, it's clear to see I am broken -

who needs love and it's pathetic excuses
a gnawing feeling both corrosive and abusive,
thy gargantuan question looms with a killer in it's eyes -
had I been in a relationship built upon lies?

Flowers of abnormality bloom upon ashes of mistrust
as my tortured soul frantically flounders in the dust -
down
down
down
the downward spiral again I am shoved,
forever asking if I can ever love, and in return be loved.

There are some clumsy minds in this world
but she has a good soul.
The girl with the head of fire,
wild and true; she is
a goddess of flames and beauty
in her certainty of herself.
Something about how fervently alive she is
pulls me into a chaos
I hope I never escape.

monday morning
and my skin still looks like
something you could touch,
but we both know from experience
it would burn you if you tried.
my mouth in the mirror
is soft and still alive
and hides the ghostly grinning skull
we remember from our nightmares.

wednesday every pore is oozing poison,
and when you tell me
i look pretty in my dress,
i can feel the sharp edges of scales
pressing up through thin flowered fabric.
wednesday i slash my lips red,
and as in nature it's a warning.
i am only an animal and
i have been consumed enough times
that my body has
made itself dangerous.

friday is a heavy knit sweater
even though it is warm,
because friday my chest
is caving in
and i cannot stand
even the accidental brush
of someone else's skin on mine.
friday no one tells me
i look pretty
and i fill my lungs a little fuller.

sunday is disembodied echoes,
a bathroom floor,
and a body that has never been mine.
sunday is gorgeous,
because i am not real,
and i am not here,
and all the things that have
happened to this body
have nothing at all to do with me.
sunday i am nowhere, which is
as close as i have ever been
to free.

Many moons,
have passed over my headpiece,
as you leave me behind,
in moondust & ashes each night,

You collect on the bookshelves,
I keep here,
collecting on hearts with your light,
dusting my world with your beauty,
diminutives in bits of the white,

This is not the end of the journey,
 this a mere tiny part of the flight,
and I've not seen any more shiny,
or any star nearly as bright,

Though I am unable to see you now,
or touch your skin ever again,
or truly hear you with my ear,
I still miss you so my friend,

I know I cannot be near you now,
I cannot be where you are,
as you are but a twinkling light,
a brilliant & distant, star-

If it was not but for the moon dust,
my heart wouldn't,
be able to see you anymore either.

Ma Cherie © 2017

it works,
heal your pain or bring happiness with your old written pieces

Put this in mind "YOUR WICKNESS IS YOUR STRENGTH"
"YOUR DOWNFALL IS YOUR RAISE"
"BELIEVE IN YOURSELF & DONT DEPEND ON YOUR FRIENDS"
"IF YOU WANT TO SEE DEVELOPMENT, BECOME THE FIRST TO CHANGE"
"IF NO ONE LOVES YOU, LOVE NO ONE BUT YOURSELF"
"BE PATIENT WHEN MAKING DECISIONS, BECAUSE IT WILL AFFECT YOUR WHOLE LIFE AHEAD"
"ONE MISTAKE CAN RUIN EVERYTHING"
"STOP SLEEPING AND START BUILDING WHAT YOU WERE DREAMING"
"PRESSURE BUILDS WISE PEOPLE"
"MANY PEOPLE KNOW WHAT'S COMPLEX, BUT FAIL TO DEFINE SOMETHING THAT'S SO SIMPLE"
"WOMEN ARE PRICELESS BUT LADIES HAVE WORTH
MEN ARE PRICELESS BUT GENTLEMEN HAVE WORTH"
"NO DOUBT HELLO POETRY IS HEAVEN ON EARTH"