He thought he may have caught
Among the snares and creeping vines,
A whisper of a thought
From the leaves and air entwined.
On the savage jungle floor,
The corpse of those that came before,
Testament to an ancient war
Lay bloodied and forlorn.
A trap that's set a hundred times or more.

The words were always just!
The words were just in his mind,
A caricature of conscience
What he wished for he would find.
Yet in the echoes of the moon,
He stood before the snare
And knew it to be bare.
Why then does the forest sing this mournful tune?


A girl knelt shy by shaded riverside
Asking the shadows what they knew.
They told tales of light once spoken by the moon,
A prophecy come true of a girl named Blue
Whose eyes would tame the wild.

It's a vehement compassion,

The kind where you miss it,

You crave it.

You want it.

You need it,

A fire that awakens a fervid beast inside of you,

That weakens at the sight of you bare.

Your hands holding mine,

Caressing,

Lingering.

Your lips against mine,

Tender,

And fore bearing.

But your heart is elsewhere,

Your mind is elsewhere.

Your heart is stirring my insides,

Touching me,

Loving me,

Devouring me.

Your mind is thinking about where you want me,

Where you need me,

Where all of me is open to you.

To take.

And we are bound,

Though not bound by love,

That same night;

You broke me.

I slipped up.
I slit cuts.
I didn't mean to.
I drew blood.

I read online
When I was probably just 14 or 15 years old
That most people don't stop until their 20's
And it scared me
But I thought
"No, I'll stop right now"

But I didn't.
I couldn't.

I slipped up.
I slit cuts.
I didn't mean to.
I drew blood.

And now that I'm older
It hurts more to try to hide it
And now that I have people that care about me
Often times they don't understand why this part of my life is still relevant
And all I can say to make them understand is

I slipped up.
I slit cuts.
I just had to.
I drew blood.