"words mean nothing," you hope -
in your anger, bile, and tears.

you've poured out your heart
with paper, and pen, and keyboard, and playlist, and life.

moulding great civilisations and intricate portraits and new lives and companions and loves.

you sew yourself together,
scattered fragments from your terror,
weaving a tapestry to replace your skin.

peel off the layers,
scrape away your pain

patching up wounds with words:
bandages from poems,
dressings from that play.

burn, burn bright as the stars in the sky -
distant and dying and alone.

shine, shine like that light on your desk...

_____________


you edit, and change
constantly revising
the story in your head -

and I think that's okay.

Domestic violence in my heart
With eyes that wage a war
And lips that speak of more
He takes our ******* and calls it art

You have to go through the worst to experience the best
These days are not easy but you are truly blessed
No matter how hard life gets don't let go
You are more loved than you will ever know

I earn my money, I pay my keep,
All the time feeling like sheep,
We follow the herd, we bleet along,
Tho whole time 'bleeting' to the same old song.
This doesn't feel natural, it must be wrong,
There has to be more,
than this plodding along?!