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Inked sketches of . . .

( Mental Princess )

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I'm different

So...

I'm crucified

In Lucifer's eyes

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( I A M )

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Terrified

Cursed with lies

By

Hypocrites

Cryptic fits

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( D O N ' T )

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Verify my figure

Inside my veins

Is blood filled vigor

Insanity Vanity

Unsanitary Sanitarium

Skeleton screams volume

Snip snap Mary's creepy hum

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( J U D G E )

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Not thy poet

Unless her pen

Gives permission

For you to hold it

Ink bled

But not red

Dead words

Slaves heard

Voices in head

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Rhythm you give them

A musical freedom prism

Castles

Made with silk tassels

Stale kisses, abusive switches

I have no riches

I'm not free

For "mental princess"

They labeled

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( M E )

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Jet black were his words
Dripping from his mouth

Poison

Discoloring my hearts canvas

~
I requested peace

But instead became fabric
Bought from a store of madness
Those leathery hands touched the silk of my inner
Feeling the quality of my chaos.

I lay
Waiting

I am bought
Spread across a table
The scissors
Those scissors
Cut through me
Measuring me like haunted opinions.

I'm stuck with pins
Slicked with sweat from my creators fingers

Why?

Why are you doing this to me?
I want to cry
But I am nothing but fabric
Sewed into what others want me to be

To do

To see

I am all sewed up and priced up
I am bought again
Although I am something different
My new owner puts me on
Oohing and ahhing
I've heard the phrase

“Wear the clothes and don’t let the clothes wear you.”

I'm going to wear this human today

The fabric becomes skin
Because my ambition is stronger now
The details and lines are my veins
Those flowery designs....
That’s part of my heart
I am human art formed by earth
I refuse to be on anybody’s cutting table
Instead I am a canvas

My skin
My mind
My heart
My soul

…Is the very ink of creativity
The very fabric of who I am
No scissors and needle will affect me

I am liquid

The threaded revelation that manipulates form
I am a new world within
A fabric of understanding, learning and loving

I will not let those designs of my life fade
Like ancient cloth
I will constantly be refreshed
Like seasonal rain on grass and flowers

I will forever grow and shine

Forgive me when I say we are like a candlestick

Frozen in a tapestry of waxen wars
Tilted diagonal on lilted syntax of fears

But we are
Aren't we?

Born with skin of bullets
Metal guns stained with blood
In our little innocent hands
Rumor of war is it?

There is no rumor

For the war already begun in our hearts
Shall we walk the red  bloodied carpet of this government
World leaders wearing human bones as a crown

We are walking it

Heads held high and heads in our hands
We will walk it with no shame
No regrets

We have none
For our beliefs is the deceitful armor we wear
We gladly wear it for all to see
No, not the clothes we wear that covers our faces

Letting only our blacken eyes see

No

Not those
Its the deceit I mentioned

We are at war my fr-- nemesis
We are
But I'm not
I don't want to be
I'm trapped you see
Trapped like this candlestick
Stuck in the pain of my tears
I am only a child but they gave me no hope


They killed my family
Replacing love with a metal machine in my hands
I have something to live for now
I am doing what I need to do

Though I feel a tug at night
When all is dark
When it’s my thoughts and I

Memories of real love
Hope
Joy
Peace

But it is dried now
Dried up in this desert sand
Where my boots stained with blood
Leave prints of death
My favorite color is no longer red

Its black

The monochromic  war of life stole all beauty from my eyes
So be thankful for your life
Be thankful please
For my heart are pieces of shells from my bullets

Hello I'm six years old
I've lived through more experiences
Then you have in twenty years
What can I say ?

Life IS
What it IS

It just IS, ISn't it?

:

The wounds are bigger now

Blood turning into ink

Dripping onto a blank page

I sit crying

:

Darkness stitches herself to me

Her sickness contagious

Blinding me from the light

And yet I see a glimmer . . .

:

Demons climb into my hair

Clawing at my clavicles

Snatching every bit of sanity

Tearing me apart

:

They stole my pens

Ripped my notebooks

Screamed and cursed at me

Told me I was hopeless

:

But somehow I am able to laugh

Though I write these words

With my ink blood

Dripping from its wounds

:

Staggering in pain

Yet satisfied, complete

My soul; untouched

Unbroken, but hurting still

:

The remains of my mind

Forming into poisonous butterflies

Flying off into a psychedelic world

. . . the one I created

:

Unsettled; though peaceful

This thing moves in me . . .

:

Impregnated by Anger

Pregnant with madness

Shall I abort this abomination?

Or let it live?

:

Shall I conceive to deceive?

How . . . how can I birth a monster

Who is the root of insanity?

:

But I did birth Madness

Didn’t I . . .?

:

Or maybe I had a miscarriage

And now here lies Madness

Dead in between the lines

Of this poem

:

Can you guess?

But wait . . .

Maybe you already know

:

Maybe you can even hear

My ink blood dripping its lullaby

On the edge of your mind

Maybe you are the one who is mad and not I

:

Maybe . . .

:

Although Madness could be alive now

Her essence

Flowing thru my veins

Writing this poem

For you

:

She shed her scales by each drop of rain
her eyes; poison in blood
the desert her veins
as she travels across silk concrete
towards the edge of her mind
the bloom of yesterday billowing its monster
side glances perceive venom

Israel is tangled in her hair
she is drowning in harlots blood
frozen against an eclipse
continuing her journey curled up in chaos
each trail a fragment of forgotten memories

Delusions are alive in her

A perfect flaw of raven fields
razed with withered crops

The dream is curved around her tail
liquid and edged with bone roses

She peels from herself

Iridescent
Venomous
Bleeding

Watercolors evaporating from forked tongue
Canvassed

Painted to slither off the cliff
landing beside her arrow fangs
her brand new scales
melting

Like sugar inside my peppermint tea
~

Never mind the world behind my eyes.
Or the earth within my skin.
Neither the diamonds swimming in teal blood.
For these are unfairly fairy tales.

Stale stories plucked from a withered imagination.
Tilting on the edge of a translucent dream.
The region which surrounds my form is lucid.
A prism reflecting the many colors of my pieces.

They who dwells in the internal galaxy knows me well.
For I am the matter which you breath in and blow out.

I am Human Dusk.

The sunset and sunrise of old endings and new beginnings.