Dear God, it's been awhile Since we had a real talk You want me on this Earth To raise my girls,to keep them safe To teach them right To always fight for justice Yet I feel I should do more But I'm lost, please tell me more Dear God, sometimes I pain Yet I really don't want to complain I found it hard to keep track Of all my wishes, they just stack As there's no time to go fulfill them I feel you keep me in one place Perhaps you just forgot my face Yet I know you didn't You just test my patience Dear God, I'll try I'll try to see what's there for me I guess I have to figure it out Yet sometimes it's so blurry Dear God, I am grateful My little family is delightful Please keep them safe Forget I mentioned myself In the end, I'll see through the day. Dear God, thank you for the words I can stretch them, rearrange them They are a wonderful world.
when i was four you didnt protect me from the monster under my bed in my bed i mean because i remember my uncle touching me everywhere like i remember the freckles on my left hand and the scar on my finger
when i was ten you didnt remind me that i was loved and needed and necessary to the world around me
when i was twelve i started cutting because i wanted to be like the girls in the stories i read at night only because my parents would get mad if they saw me tracing lines on my writs at the asscrack of dawn
when i was fifteen i was ******* my best friend behind my boyfriends back because i was so angry with my self and i needed a reason
now at sixteen i think you exist solely for the purpose of laughing at me
Dear Lord, Can you hear me? I've been praying so long that someone would be, I've been praying so long that someone will see, the truth behind these eyes and the sadness in this smile. I'm searching for my other half, my one and only, my soulmate. Where is she, God, can you help me? I've placed so much in the hands of fate.
See there's a hole in my heart that never fully healed. My whole life, I've been waiting for something that's real. I need someone to show me what I haven't felt in years; Please, give me someone who will break down these walls & help me let go of these fears.
And Dear God, Can you see me? I'm over here on bended knee, I'm not too proud to beg, but see;
I miss the butterflies, I miss the forehead kisses. I miss the feel of her against me, and the 11:11 wishes. I could have the whole world, but it's the little things I'm always missing.
Numbers of the lights still don't add up. The dream station on the orange bridge's sands, is so totally too far away to fly to. My life according to the animadversion of my dreams. The harangue and opprobrious odium whilst wandering about aimlessly in the square, on the blackened honey trail where I was cast around like some pebble lapidated by the wind. I barely stand, a hyaloid column soaked in fear and ambiguphobia; one girl's face is blurred by this maddening diplopia. While the haze drapes me in its suits of cinereous gray, I crawl sadly up the rise while I am bruised from the battering. My fuscous body heaps itself, exhausted and pandiculating, all I can make out in the advesperating and cloudy night, in all of its dourly silences- the gold hair fixed against the banner of light in the darkening sky and her beautiful blue eyes.
You're sitting across a table, in the next room- and it's the month of July. And as the beads of sweat chip off your forehead like a shank of butcher's meat, your dorcel fin peaks through the sand where my toes peak through. The picnic table where I write letters; post cards. I take photos, make reservations, and even after I'm canceled on for walking around downtown in my bright neon-pink underwear, I still roll to the left side of the bed sit up and drop the cigarette I fell asleep on. You're just sitting, first entry: Stardom.
I don't have room for you in the corners.
The corners of this room, padded walls, shifty vaseline sway- the white cotton stick of a sucker pointing out of your mouth, its red numero forty dye shines in the specks of light flicking out of the horizon like a carousel ride around and around.
I'm getting a bit dizzy, and even less honest.
If you want to see me spring, like the silly string on my birthday, yellow silly-putty; molding the monster face, I observe you through a kaleidoscope of dexedrine and morphine. Your catastrophe with Xanax, passed out in alien-green *******, at that party in the abandoned firehouse on News St., how you could lay trust on me after that