Steele

Steele Jul 2016

I'm trying to see you tonight.
I'm dancing through
the depths of my mind.
I'm searching through
the dense forest trees.
Swimming through the
laughter and the tears
and the lies (the leaves).
Believe me, I don't ever
want to see you hurt.
You believed my lies -
I know the truth hurts.
All the times you cried
and yet, you still lifted
up your skirt.
I guess I'm slime.
You're a dime.
In the end you'll win
because without a heart
I'll die.
You see : I still love you,
but you don't love me.
I still need you,
but you don't need me.
You're fresh air,
and without you I can't breathe.

Congratulations, my love,
you've won the war.

#love #heartbreak #war #mind #soul #forest

Steele Jun 2016

True Freedom (a long rant)

I see my reflection
in the bright stars
of the wide night sky.
I'm walking up a five-step
staircase, hoping that
when I leap off it I can take flight.
I want to be an eagle.
I want to be free.
I want to spread my wings
and fly high,
living above everything.

I want to be a skinny
punk rocker, head-banging
my life away.
I want to trip on
drugs for a couple
of years for absolutely
no reason.
I just want to dance
and write clever
poetry and be seen
as an iconoclast.
An intellectual rebel
who nobody agrees
with, but who everybody
respects and looks up to.

I want to be homeless
and spend my days
walking from place to place,
just wanting a piece of bread
to eat each day.
Just that is enough.
And I'll have no-one to
answer to.
No-one whom I need
to respect or care about.
I can just go wherever
I want and do whatever I want.
Of course I'll be scorned
and rejected by society
because of my
foul appearance
and lack of initiative,
but who the **** cares?
I'm already in that boat,
the only difference is
that I have the money
to keep clean and tidy
and I have a job,
so I'm classified as a
'productive member of society.'
So people don't actually
like me any more than
they like a hobo,
but there is a sense of
mutual respect.
But it isn't real respect
because real respect is
based on feeling respectful
towards someone.
This 'mutual respect' was
taught to us as a means
of getting along
with other people.
So it's premeditated.
Meaningless.
"I respect you because
I've been taught to do so.
But, if I could, I would tell
you what a **** I think
you really are and send a
big old *******
right your way."

I want to be one of these
extremely rich, young
celebrities with a
reality show on TV.
I want to know what
it's like to be as shallow
and ignorant as these people
and just not give
a **** about anything
except my
20-thousand dollar
birthday parties
and my own boat
and how much
I'm going to drink
when I go out
and which hard drug
I'm going to
experiment with next.

I guess what all these things -
the eagle, the iconoclast,
the homeless man and
the rich celebrity - have
in common is that
they all have a high
degree of freedom.
That's what we're all
really searching for,
isn't it? Freedom.
True, unchained, limitless freedom.

#freedom

Steele Jun 2016

Just So You Know

Where have you gone to?
Do you still speak
through your hazel eyes?
You're still the one I belong to.
After all this time
it's funny I still cry.
I don't know where to go
when I'm feeling somewhere
in between blue and yellow.
I don't know how to lie,
but it's funny how I still try.

Just so you know,
I miss you.
This is not a good poem,
I'm just speaking my mind.
Just so you know,
I love you.
It seems that I'll love you
until the day I die.

I hope you're happy.
I hope you still have your soul.
I can't escape you.
You're trapped deep
in my psyche,
you're like marrow to my bones.
I haven't seen you in years,
but my memory
won't ever fade.
I learnt the hard way
that sometimes the ones
you love most are the first to
get taken away.

Just so you know,
it's still you.
I know it's ridiculous.
Just so you know,
after all I've been through,
I still haven't broken
our teenage promises.

#love #heartbreak #cantletgo

Nov 2015

Caitie

Pictures

pictures scare me
they're like portrayals of undoubted fun
you look at them
they have become memories
and you relive them in your head
you laugh at the face you made
or the jokes made from that night
but you realize that moment
will never happen again.
the picture can be taken
just as fast as the fun started
and can be destroyed
just as fast as the memory fades.
in an instant.
before your eyes.
before you realize what happened.
like paper in a flame.
nothing lasts forever.

Nov 2015

Caitie

I am

i am angry
they told me who i'm supposed to be
i am not who they wanted in their world.
i am anything but pure
i am anything but sweet.
i am your worst nightmare.

my hands numb,
my legs shaking, toes tapping,
you asked me what i wanted to be.
well what the hell, i haven't the slightest,
i've never really thought about
the person i wanted to become.
"someone everyone loves"
but what does that ever accomplish?
what if no one ever learns to love me the
way that they're supposed to?
but how is anyone supposed to love me anyway.
what if i'm already doomed?
I'm already in the mix, i'm already set up to fail.
so then, you ask me; "who are you?"
silence.

in the spur of the moment,
my eyes widened.
i reminisce of every time i thought
i was doing something because it was me.
i think of every single time you lectured me,
asking what i was doing with myself.
i think of the times my parents were disappointed,
and all of the people I've let down.
I thought they'd hate me, but they didn't even care.
no one ever really gave a crap what i did,
but I, all too much of their actions.
and for what? look where it landed me.

I'm so upset with myself.
I'm supposed to know these things.
I'm supposed to know who i am.
I'm supposed to know what this body contains,
I'm supposed to know what my heart can give,
and what my mind believes in.
but i just don't.
at least not now.

who was i when i popped those pills,
willingly broke through my skin to feel the pain.
who was i on New Years 13 shots in,
kissing that cute boy who's name escapes me.
who was i when my parents divorced,
who was i when i no longer had a family.
when i got my license, or graduated high school.
who was i when you looked me in the eyes and told
me you loved the girl i used to be.
who is the girl i used to be?

if this is the coming of the storm, then someone tell me,
because here i am, 19 years into my life
not knowing one single thing about myself.
not knowing what to feel,
only because at this very moment, i have to think.
i have to give definition to myself
when before, it all rolled off my tongue,
like i read my fate on a gum wrapper.

you never did notice my shaking legs, or my pale face.
you never did see right through me. oh this is easy to fake.
i put my hands together and said "i am myself"

although i had no idea who that is.

but i know i am angry,
i am not pure,
i am not sweet.
i sure as hell am not "myself",
whoever that may be.

#feelings #anger #life #heart #thoughts #wonder #confusion

Nov 2015

Bellis Tart

Lay Over

I've spent so long running
tryin to be anyone but me
I can't even say how great it feels
that with you, I could just be
I've never actually seen the future
but with you it sounds quite nice
though,you're awaiting your departure
on that 'solo mission' you call life
I wonder what you were thinking
when the morning lights lit our eyes
I wonder if you miss me
though you didn't say goodbye
I hope even after time passes
hearing that song reminds you of me
if we no longer know each other
keep safe our precious memories

Nov 2015

Jaxton Tyler Redmond

Addiction

If these razors could talk, they'd spin tales of stories so intricate like the inside of a body, funny because that's how it felt every time a thin red line pouring out failure always seemed to feel like. If they could tell you anything I'd hope they'd tell you how hard I fought to keep it hidden and inside a box. Instead of thinking outside that box I would be caged inside it shoved in like sardines, that must be how it felt when they found the tools of new beginnings inside a container that blared the words normal in a big red sign. The color red will never seem normal to me I've seen it on sheets pooling out over my hands. The metal was a sidetrack a bump in the road the only one to feel it was the inside of these clothes and now they have left their mark. If the skin I crawl under could somehow paint you a time of when everything seemed "fine" I hope to god it twists your stomach like the veins inside my wrists curl around the bone woven together like the sewing needle my grandma just can't put down. The doctors glares were as cold as how each and every razorblade kiss was . if these razors could somehow show you that it was not their fault but mine, even the slightest twitch makes it seem impossible to not go back again and yet they are still there they chant the same tune every night and if you'd listen a little closer it'd go something like this "you got a little something on that clean skin you've covered up just enough and its time to pick your weapon and let the ritual of sins begin. Come a litter closer we can show you the world you won't have to feel and it'll be like a drug. Don't think just let the sharp begin to bite and I tell you now you can sleep tonight" the singsong rant is as empty as my box but yet it wounds deeper than I ever could. If these razors could talk, I hope and pray they tell you of every time there words got wedged into my skin like tiny little slivers from a wooden deck I had never sat on. If the sheets I tied over ever open wound showed you the evidence of an unfinished crime scene would you be able to stomach the fact these blades have control. If these razors could talk they'd tell you they aren't finished with me yet.

trigger warning for self harm

#triggerwarning