You're favorite color was red,
like love
and blood.

I think about this as I gaze at the roses outside my window
they are so beautyful, yet so strong.

There are seventeen roses on the rosebuish.
That was your licky number,
you told me.

Well, I felt so lucky with you.
But now I see that I must have walked under a scarlet ladder
because I have lost you

or maybe a black cat crossed my path
or seventeen red cats.

I don't know what happened. All I know
is that I miss you,
and you're two red lips.

Do you ever feel like you just don't fit in

to all the cracks and cliques

that society puts you in.

Or do you ever slightly fear being fully yourself,

scared of the raised eyebrows and curious eyes

that
dig
dig
dig into your timid soul..

I try and solve this by putting up walls made of paper

that slowly turn to concrete, a roof, a cave, a den, a house,

away away on a hill side,

so that they can't get in or smell or see

the beast that they've made of me.

For they love to toss me two and fro
with words and chatter. Vulchers * of
*'Why do you look, talk, dress like that'
There mouths like open caves I can see there teeth,
rotten and decaying.
Graves stones.

I don't want to explain
I don't want to talk
I walk away alone
and peer through windows
watching them silently turn to stone,
mannequins of each other
letting my spirit grow.

-

To me it means sacrifice
to hide who I am
never
For I'll find people
who know and understand

what its like to be
ostracized
beaten,
battered,
and
killed over and over again,

all for just wanting to live,
for just wanting to be human.

People forget we are all human.

At night I feel alive
by day I feel death
is it because I have
a silver bullet in my chest?

Is it from the empty spaces of the bed
or the words you left ringing...

Or simply because I don't want you,
to see
the beast you've

made

of me

©Rebekah Lazarus 2014

Sara always thought love was a feeling
a tender warm wave of yearning
a cord between her and her lover
it was made of rubies, gold, and silver

She'd dance in the shower
at the thought of his arms around her.
She'd put their cord in her jewellery box,
the highest shelf. Watching it never wither

But

Sometime later, when the cracks began to show and the lines deepened in her skin

Sara saw her lovers eye's turn from morning to night,
she realised the bruises on her skin were from not peeling the potatoes right
The endless stream of tears that flowed from her eyes; pearls
Were produced by his screams and his might.

She lay uncomfortable in his rock hard arms
as she listened to a never ending song of 'I'm sorry, I love you''
he'd kiss her softly with blood cracked lips.
She new this was a love that wouldn't be missed

For her mother always said ''love is not just a feeling but adoration in action
Its kind, patient, loving, remember you are a blessing.''

For her heart was crazed from the mistakes he made
with a cynical mind-set that she was the bait

for the biggest action she could take
to show she was still capable of loving

was cut the cord, sell the gold and take her life back
to show she was still made of something.

©Rebekah Lazarus 2014

The past can make it so easy to relapse

not because of the past itself

but

running away from it

and burying it in the subconscious,

hiding it away and letting it silently

fest fest fest.

Is what causes you to be haunted.

---

Pain;

A raging sore, a deep wound, an eternal scar,

just wants to be felt; acknowledged.

So I try not, to ignore it

when I see the marks of the past; knives

digging into the valves of my heart; pain

even when it comes back

strong and hard and fighting

like a hurricane

carrying me away under water

suffocating the freedom in my punctured lungs

I will not let it destroy me.

—-

Its not because I am weak that I struggle with it

but the brain is strong; be aware...

For thoughts can make you a victim of your own mind

though I hope
there will be a time when

healing, that miraculous God-sent healing is at the end.

When

you stop ignoring the past

and instead start loving those broken pieces, the shame you felt,

the fear that crippled

and realise

it will soon ease, soon melt away, soon diminish

and you’ll remember

**pain has no authority to hurt