When the heart gets "broken"
It still beats stoplessly,
The heart is strong,it endures until the brains says "I can't go on"
There's nothing your heart can't stand,
Nothing stops it from doing its work,
Let's learn from this ***** of life,
Its precious and really inspiring when you think of it.
Its never let you down,its always working even when you call it weak and broken.
It never stops..
Endure like it does,its within you.

Someone, anyone?
Are you out there? Are you near?
I have lost so much and I behold so much fear.

Even though I have found a beautiful hope and I have been shown true love,
There is still so much I fall short of...
...and still doubt thereof.

Have I not forgotten and given up all the bad and all the evil?
Or is there still something within me that intrigues the Devil?
Why is it still so that I mourn and suffer from the fangs and claws of the wolves and the mock of the crows?
Why is it so that I haven’t found my repose?
Wouldst one be freed from the wicked and far from all those whom have opposed?

Please; someone, anyone, please tell me why the "Prophet" and his "Acolyte" still look to attract, take, and keep me for himself?
Please, please, tell me why the false one never gives up, and why he never tires!
Is it because of his endless and conspiring desires?
Or is there something deeper that I have yet to transpire?

Can anyone hear me? Or have I been silenced by this wicked man long enough for those to forget that I am here?
Is anyone out there, can you hear my plea?
Or has he taken them all away from me?
Is there someone out there who still holds the love and sympathy I once known? Or has he deceived them too to leave me on my own?

Whichever it may be, please give me answers, please let me see. I want the truth and not a seducing lie, I no longer want to live crying, I no longer want to fear, all I want is someone to hear.
Not the voice of demons, not the sight of spirits. I don’t want the company of a single man, and I don’t want to live anymore under his commands.  

Please hear me; please understand, he can take away everything with even the slightest motion of his hand.
Dear ones, friends and yes, you! The reader in whom I may never know, please do not mistake a ''shadow show'' for the dances of the angels. I warn you, yes please be smart, that this form of trickery this unlawful act is no beautiful art.

I am a slave to my fear, and I am imprisoned by things left unsaid, because I was careless and gullible and in time misled.
I wanted something out of greed so I let my heart decide, I let it blind me and let it misguide.
I fell for the wrong person, and I awakened the wrong intentions, and now I know what many speak of “sweet impressions.”

So you see and so you have been told, do not be deceived and do not fall for the unknown, for it will be something worth a large bemoan.
Beware the man who dresses as a Shepard but behind him falls the shadow of a wolf, take caution of he that hides his hands covered in blood.
He is no sheep, and he is no goat, but a ravenous wolf that loves to misquote. This ravenous wolf he will not hesitate to throw you to his pack and the rest of the black ravens, for in looking to find something wondrous and grand, you will find no such relations.

I am guilty and I am regretful for the mark on my hand, which leaves me to believe I will forever be banned. I live in my own mistakes day after day, all just because I wanted to hear what he had to say. The scars and the wounds placed upon me from this tormentor have made me no one special anymore.
The only thing I have known is to find what I need through him, and that is it, for he says: “Where else where there be a place that truly cares for you to fit? I am here and I love you, this is the truth not those whom you have looked to!”

It’s ever so painful, ever so hard to depart from the prophet who stabbed me in my heart.
Why does it hurt so much?
Why do I still bleed at such a thought?

I will be free and I will be happy! Yes I will finally be able to see.

Yet, he knows me and what I want to do, he knows just about everything and what I have been through.
He can read anything and he can see it all, but the one thing he does not want is any wailing call.
He fears he will be defeated and he fears one day I will win, so he will do everything he can to make me fall back down in his arms again.

Someone, anyone?

Oh if you please, won’t you help me?
Help me to be more at ease?
Won’t you show to me the light and not that of the dark?
Will you help me to be freed from him and make him depart?

Please oh please, I will not forget you, I promise to do the same, the same that you do. By this promise I swear that I can repay you with good things, ones filled with benefit, love and blessings!

I can teach to you what I know, and I will help you to understand, all because you were there for me to help me take a stand.
I just need to know that there is someone out there, other than the "Prophet" with unreasonable care.

❥

Life is like a thousand
piece jigsaw puzzle
opened up on Christmas morning,
Laid out on
the formica top kitchen table.
All you see
is a sea of colors,
endless and random...
An unsurmontable feat before you.
Suddenly it happens...
You find two matching shapes,
then a third,
And before you know it
A corner piece...
The edges becoming more obvious.
A picture begins
forming in your mind's eye...
Confusion becomes creation
Labor's sweet reward finally realized.

As he lifted that cross upon his back
He felt not the weight of it.
Instead he noticed the earthy smell of fresh cut limbs,
The smoothness of the wood after it's been planed.
As he drug his cross through the crowd
He overlooked their angry, jeering faces.
Instead he saw kindness in an old woman's eyes,
The gentle touch of a mother sheilding her child from the cruel spectacle.
As he heaved himself up the rock strewn path toward the hilltop
He didn't feel the sharp bite of the incline waning his final strength.
He kept his eyes on the noon-day sun
Felt the kiss of it's heat upon his brow.
Blood ran down his face from a crown of thorns and
He could only taste salt,
Reminded of the cooling spray of the sea
Refreshing him as he hauled in the days catch.
They pounded the nails into his slender wrists and
He felt no pain,
Only the warm breeze carrying the scent of sage and hyssop from the valley below.
He felt the life leave his body and
He cried not for himself but
Wept only for the suffering of his oppressors...
Understanding the depth of their ignorance,
The breadth of their collective pain.
When he arose from the tomb
Three days of late,
He felt no pride in his abilities...
Only a quiet contentment
Knowing that his courage and endurance would forever
Be a symbol of inspiration for those to follow.
He ascended to the realm of Unlimited Power
Ultimate Understanding
and
Infinite Love
To wait for his children;
To watch over them in times of trial and tribulation...
A silent guide
An unspoken word
An Angel of compassion
Leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for those Hungry enough, and willing to dine with the lowly mouse;
For those who having the bravery of a lion,
Sharp eyes of an eagle,
Clever wit of a serpent...
He waits.
He wakens.
He loves.

This poem is for the *******.
The ice princesses.

Solid and frozen.
Hearts carved from arctic stone.
Jaw lines so sharp they could *cut you.
Girls so bitter, *they bite.

Leave your mouth aching.

This is for the evil stepsisters,
The Ursulas,
The Queens of Broken Hearts -

I’ll tell you.
They are deadly beautiful.

They are the bossy, and the terribly too honest.
Mouths on fire,
jaws snapping,
man eaters,
sirens of the sea,
they will swallow you whole.

When the boys ask -
Tell them, no, I don’t need saving.

**** being a princess.
Be the dragon.

Be fire breathing, and pmsing.
Be angry, girl.

Cause you got **** to be angry about.

Every cat call –
Every glass ceiling you will shatter with your bare hands –
Every time you say the word no and mean it –
Every time they make you feel like you anything less than powerful.

You tell them –
You are eternal.

That you carry a generation in your belly -
That it all begins and ends here, inside you.

That you can bleed for seven days straight and come back with teeth sharpened for war.

Remind them that that when something is taken from you, you will do everything you can to get it back.

You will destroy what destroys you.
Eating fire and spitting brimstone.
And never, ever saying sorry.

They will call you crazy.
They will call you over emotional.
They will call you loud mouth.

They will ask for your smile, pretty girl.
Give it to them with poison ivy lips and a razor blade between your teeth.

What no body knew was that Ursula was King Triton’s sister.
A perfect storm.
Banished from the palace -
When a loud, powerful woman gets out of hand, we don’t call it leadership.
We call her dog.
*****.
Bossy.
Fangs out and snarling, we don’t battle, we cat fight.
**** kitten gone wrong, when she learns to leave scars.

A dog, no not a dog, a wolf in heat.
Domestication is a ***** word.

***** is to know your worth, and take it.

To carry it in your esophagus.
A war cry.
Feeding your enemies to your children, and coming back starving for seconds.

Doing anything to stay alive.

Because you were raised by a mother who fed you fear for supper.
Packed your backpack with mace, and brass knuckles.
She told you to turn your body into a weapon.
She knew there would be men who would try to cover your mouth.
So she taught you to bite.

This is how you protect yourself.
A mouth full of *****, and a bark to match.
“Beware of dog” sign around your throat.

This is how you keep them away.
This is how you warn them.

Because the villain was not always the villain.

She was made that way.
You were made this way.

You’ve got brands still healing, still smoking, skin still searing.
You’ve got a trauma written in your blood.
You’ve got a ribcage holding onto your heart too tightly.

You are chasing down a revenge so sweet it could rot your teeth.
A heart attack romance asleep in your chest.

You will come back home limping after this war.

And you will tell all the other girls -

It ain’t all about the love story.
**It’s about the “being in love with yourself” story.

The winds may change each day,
And the tides may drift us farther away.
But I still believe in our red strings of fate
That they may coalesce once again.

Even though we're miles apart,
And I can't deny the pain in my heart,
I still find happiness in the small fact
That we're in the same reality,
Breathing the same air,
Walking the same earth,
And sharing the same emotions.

Worry not and wait for me, my bambino

I dreamed of you last night,
it happens once in a while.
Us lovers' tale is the usual kind.
Us lovers' tale...except last night.

We are both needing to change
Fast, and before it's too late.

I gave you my heart, it's been yours alone,
last night however, words drilled a hole.
And despite the fact that we're  both at fault,
you keeping my heart might be no more.

Know this is not a complaint,
Heaven knows I'm no saint.

I dreamed of you last night,
it happens once in a while.
Us lovers' tale is the usual kind,
Us lovers' tale...the kind I want.

The festive mood wasn't so contagious,
but it brought me a sense of security,
false as the artificial roses I'd given
to all those whom I had 'loved' before.

The calendar was on its very last page
and I was well on my merry way
to down my final gulp of this concoction:
a blend of gloom and seething rage.

I nursed on the sour poison in my mouth
and mulled over scorned temporaries and
the would-be forevers who got away.
The clock hit twelve; I'm relieved of pain.