Thrown forward from the past to break upon the bread was cast the scattering, if that's the word,
that was the word.

I heard it not so far away
as if I hear words as
I lay
asleep.


Dreams, they told me, but I know  dreams can hold me tight when all is certain to be lost and in these dreams from far away when words are ripening like hay I make them all my own.

My home was always home to me, no castles there for I was free to wander through the cornfields which led out to the rushing brook where once I took the vow that somewhere some day somehow I'd find the way to hear the  words thrown, wish I'd known then what I know not now and yet ignorance though no defence is the only one I have.

Up here at the top of the world, I stare into the horizon.
a building under construction in plain view.

Next to me,
A homeless man throws an empty bottle at some hard hats.
Screaming nonsense at them like he owns them.

Beside him,
A dog prances around, stopping only to **** on the brown grass.
covering up the **** that was left by some other dog earlier on.

the sun sets.
a film student points and clicks his camera at his model.
The model stares longingly into the horizon

At night,
Rebels, stumble out of the wilderness giggling and coughing.
smelling like skunk and sweat.
Almost stumbleing off the rocks.

I sit alone at the top of the world,
Trying to find my own way to escape.

I stand up and walk to the end of the cliff.
I scream nonsense at the black, but nobody hears me.
I ******* the precipice; but nothing is covered up.
I stare gloomily off into the horizon, but all I see is the building under construction.
I inhale smoke, but I don't feel any different.

I can't escape like the homeless man does,
or the dog, or the film student, or the rebel. they found their ways and Those ways belong to them.

I need to find my own way to escape. My top of the world.

She shuts her eyes
To escape the world.
Such a hard life
For such a young girl.

She shuts her eyes
To escape it all.
Teetering on the edge
Ready to fall.

She shuts her eyes
One final time.

"A young life wasted
Such a terrible crime."
Read on the news headlines,
Because she wasted her life.
Right.

I will knock out your teeth if you try to
take my love away from me— and if you
do it more than once I'll start setting
things on fire.
I'm telling you, I don't think I could ever love anyone ever again  , I don't know
I don't know

see, here's the thing
it's the Sunday morning before my birthday and I'm laying in bed eating leftover cold pizza and simultaneously thinking about all of the good and the bad. The ugly, the
uglier and the so ******* ugly it's
beautiful

and I've decided I am so much
more than those things you pinned to my
skin like medals or scars.
although , ironically
I have a bulletin in my room
filled with all the horrible things I'd like to say to you , over and over and over again but I probably never will

I hope she gives you an sti, but not enough to **** you.
I want to tie you to a chair and make you watch as I burn the place you call home , to the ground


I keep staring at works because
it's so **** hard trying to decipher what is true art and just plain trash when I gone through something like you
I'm stuck feeling like frames are jails for paintings , and oil takes way to much time for me to even bother



I went out last night
and the waiter charmed me into drinking a cocktail made up of late night mistakes and sin
and half way through the drink I realized I have a hard time doing anything that doesn't end up with me being alone questioning why nothing ever really turns out as you think it should
I'm with Lynn and Im half talking half rambling about how
my pet puppy ran away when I was 13 and I named him angel.
i think I named him that because , well
i always got the feeling I wasn't living life like I was supposed to, Mother raised me catholic but I raised myself to believe in nothing but broken fists , ceilings and the kind of angels that hold your hair back only cause it suits them.
and it never made sense to my mom
and it never made sense
because none of it ever does
there'll still be hobos on Jan smuts avenue sleepin under  roof folds
there'll still be daily suicides and hospital stories that'll make bodies and spirits alike collapse and high school drop outs with dreams bigger then whole buildings , there'll still be boys that eat your dignity for breakfast ad girls that will put then above their own morals
and in the end , I'll always be here standing , flipping the light switch wondering why nothing ever really turns out like you think it should

Tell them about the time you spent your day looking for a rock to live under, tell them how your soul seeks an understanding that is nowhere to be seen in his eyes.
Tell them about the time you stuttered while talking to the guests your mum invited
How you kept wanting to say sorry cause that Is the only emotion you ever feel these days
Tell them about the time you laid on your bed all alone
Seeing nightmares with open eyes
Tell them how everyone that left and everything you love
Comes back to haunt you every night
Tell me how you stopped talking to your friends
To avoid their snap out of its
Tell them about that one time your teacher asked you where do you see yourself in 10 years and
You imagined yourself rotting in an abandoned house
Tell them how you feel like an abandoned house; a graveyard where people come and bury their broken dreams and forget to re-visit
Tell them how you try to give everyone what they want and at the end of the day when you are alone
You just don't know who you are or who you want to be
Tell them how you can't remember how or why it went this bad
But only that no one helped you prevent it
Tell them how the only thing you can do from falling apart is
Write these gibberish talks
Tell them how you wonder if you are that good at putting a facade
Or the number of damns they give is dwindling
Tell them how you think it is the later
Tell them how you feel so hopeless when you hear your parents talk about what is wrong with you
Tell them how you think you doomed them by walking into their lives
Tell them how what once was can never be that way again
And how every time the wind blows you feel it tearing you apart at the very seams of your being
Tell them how you are more cracks than skin
And how
Everything they say
Or everything you had drained out
Now you are just a void.

Strength is found in the depth of pain, the place in which we all fear to face and struggle to remain unfamiliar with. When put in those moments and thrown into those obstacles, the body and mind have no choice but to react. We have the ability to train that reaction, to prepare ourselves for it.

What doesnt **** you makes you stronger, what makes you stronger makes you wiser and what makes you wiser prepares you - emotionally and physically.

When in tact with your own attitude and inner strength, you can build bridges larger than mountains and place them where ever needed.

Start building today, face your fears and flaws and get comfortable with that uncomfortable feeling. Sure, we can all live with the simplicity of an uncomplicated life - but where will we learn? Where will we grow? How will we know what to do when a burden is due?

Master your own weakness and watch how it grows into strength.