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Aug 2015 · 823
K
Sierra Smith Aug 2015
K
Tickle fancies with your tentative dreams
Tripping on a break you could never catch
Abort the kindred companionship you
carried full term only to
Pierce the air with
HALLELUJAH
For your innocence in abandonment


If pain can make you feel more than what your cigarettes burn, light another
For an emptiness that's comfortable and complacent

If a cackle gives you more comfort than compassion go to your oblivion that you call peace, where the longing dwells for eternity  

As I caress the hardened scares
My gentle heart lets breath
I promise you one thing
At least I looked back,
Before I started to leave.
Jul 2015 · 492
Princess
Sierra Smith Jul 2015
Let me be yellow,
as the sunbeams that tickle faces
leaving behind
freckle kisses
while still possessing
the pain of a stinging burn
to those who get
too greedy

Joy in the morning, fresh breeze in your lungs
a delightful hope

am i pretty? do you like what you see?
heaven forbid the idea of me
be only a mirage
that flirts with contentment
and encourages complacency

my wings are charcoal, crisp and fierce
like the fear that plagues enchanted sleep
stealing security
questioning everything

crimson brushes my lips to mark
a bold passion
that lacks not in authentic yearnings
for truth and empowerment

still waters peak my curiosity
and yearn for my touch,
a fall
and i'm in too deep
chaotic abyss is destined for me
a labyrinth that forces me to swim
as i sink
drowning me    
so i can breath

my crown was broken between hotel sheets
a little girl looks up crying,
"why was this destined for me?"

a slap caressed my cheek
so soft and so sweet
that is was almost endearing

"stop crying." he says
"don't blame me."
"i couldn't help myself."
"look, you're just too beautiful."

strip me to my nakedness
of which i am ashamed no more

my skeletons come dancing out of the closet
and i kiss them as they embrace me
because i have learned to love things that are *****

complexity divine
and ever-changing
wrestle with the heaven and hell
that reside in me
my already torn heart is done breaking

the extreme capacity to share love and harbor hate
both demonstrate the tragedy
in being
merely
too
human.

But oh, how He loves me so.
This is my first poem i'm really proud of. It really grasps who i am and what happened to me and how i choose to keep pressing on despite it all. But i try my best to honest, that i am not perfect in this. Forgiveness is a journey, and i am no expert on living. But hey, i am trying.

— The End —