I've begun a war, i wanna abandon.
But the love in me, the one you can't see, is the only reason im here.
I wanna defeat gravity.
I wanna be high and woke.
I wanna blow all these thoughts and the **** called feelings up in smoke.
I want that liquor in my hands and my *** on the floor.
Till i find my way, i won't take steps no more.
Don't wanna go home, cause walls gives the body warmth not the soul.
Give me words to express how i feel.
I don't wanna be real.
I wanna dissappear into the crowds, and not come out.
In my own world.
Im gonna cover up, i won't let them know.
Cover up, i won't let it show.
Cover up.....my broken soul
I wrote this a while ago⛧
A few hold a wall in front of them.
Pretending to be someone they are not.
Trying to impress the world.
Trying to impress themselves.
We sometimes try too hard to impress that we forget what we are doing.
True friends "may" see through farcades, true friends "will" love you for who you are.... without the pretending.
We stick ourselves in this teenage mindset, thinking that we have to be perfect, flaws are a bad thing. Life has ended before it could begin.
We need to understand that facades, is not open, and dethrones our true nature. For one to love us we need to love yourselves first. ;)
I always wondered how long I could hold your breath
Hands wrapped like ribbons on your neck
No signs of forced entry since I let myself in gently
I always wondered how my feet will feel on tile flooring
Stained red when you didn’t stop me
Just wanted to write down some notes and your arms were so appealing
I always wondered how I’ll look bathed in blood in the moonlight
Will it look blue with the night hue?
Pity you didn’t let me try, your cries made me lose my appetite
I always wondered how it’ll taste, human flesh from your face
Only the most honorable will be selected
The rest thrown to dogs since they didn’t fit my palate
But of course, I only wondered
I am only hysteric not psychotic your Honor.
© Sofia Villagrana 2018
Inspired by the show Hannibal.
"I am enough"
She said to the mirror,
Dull eyes gazing back
Her reflection recreating regal
That coming so naturally before, now were cracked
"I am beautiful"
She said, with silver tears
Brimming in her eyes
In the daytime she was Clepatra
Aching for affirmation, filled with ***** lies
Standing in her own presence
No lines so sweetly versed
No role to be rehearsed
Fists clenched, lips tightly pursed
Oh beautiful tragedy! you lost your identity...
the ache is stayed with the plunge of a blade
breaching the chasm which once held your heart
Tis the season to be dying
Not too jolly are the lines I'm writing
The hymns mimic my weeping soul
A tune strung with a broken bow
Frail lullabies drenched in sorrow
Wilting with the fading greens
We inhale clouds of dusty air
Cold and fragile as my spine
Tingling numbness in my heart
Like frost bites from within
The finale of an orchestra
An epilogue of sorts
Wintry hails in my disturbed mind
Raining like misfired bullets
From a shoddy gun
Burning letters into my hands
The poetry I craft not pretty
Lacking tales of sugarcoated reality
Mostly **** and somewhat edgy
Infused with truth and too much realitys
There are words that can't reach me from here
If you simply pluck them from there.
I need to know a person like you exists,
not about what other people say,
not about what you do in order to be like them,
not like losing the one thing you can't have back
in order to become higher than me, not about
breaking yourself for others because you simply
can't fix them.
Once in awhile, someone needs you to be you,
and sometimes, I have to be me to be me.
Let someone know you can be yourself, and it will all be fine. And being fine, is simply alright.
Sometimes, you and someone else need to hear from each other with real hearts, not with a guarded mind.
I walk this Kiez
A perfect balance of anger and grace
I must be on my toes
At every moment
Scanning each face
Adjusting response in lieu of what's said
To hold space with intent
Not wanting to expect the worse
Encounters of violence
But I prime my senses
Prepare my reflexes
To respond at a split
So at this knifes edge
My nerves sit
Thus I Take the city at my pace
Smile and walk these streets
Always chin up
Look the world in the eye
And from this flow
Square my shoulders
In this moment. I stand
Exist and go forth
Question not where I came from
But still exhort from my feet
A slow pace
One after another
I aim myself home
Throw the compass asunder
As I stalk and i prowl
My body projecting a fierce front
That I pray will get me to my door
Slide the key in the lock
Feel resistance as tumblers align
And allow me entry
To my home
My safe space
The weight of holding a balance between anger
And grace falls away
I know... I know
It's disjointed as ****
But somehow nicely sums up my stream of consciousness as I stagger home
Dripping sweat, from the days slaving away
Carving, the blood and frustration into a mask
Each chip, which shaves and thins, is paid in flesh
This facade can capture many faces, or no face at all
But when placed upon the brow, the craftsman disappears
For in this tribute to false faces, the true being surfaces
I have never known myself, until I dawned this mask
I breathe air which has never been my own, I am alive.
As I looked into his eyes, replaying the conversation in my mind...over and over again.
Studying his mouth curvature and ****** expressions, change from confidence to bewilderment. As I confronted his most recent "story".
Stumbling over words, not even remembering his own storyline, it all came to a head.
It's all a fog. The last 11 months of my life.
A tangled web of fulfillment..loss..love..pain..a seeming friendship..laughter..hurts..euphoria..
half truths..embellished stories..frustrations..
Dream making..intense loneliness.
He built walls...constructed of flowers, love notes, thoughtful gifts, candle lit baths with rose petals and love songs...all in hopes to keep me within the realm of his safety lines.
He lied to make me love him..I lied to myself into believing it was all real.
When lies become your reality..nothing stands against it..not even..the Truth.
Now I sit. Alone. In the center of the shambles of what we fabricated, fallen at my feet.
Eyes opened. Accepting the reality. Weaving through the confusion.
Hope in the unknown..the sun still continues to rise..hearts heal and Love still exists.
Always listen to your intuition.
Copyright © Natasha Ivory Evans 2016