everyday is exactly the same
there is no love here
and there is no pain*

every single day
consists of only
gray
though my sight
is not colorblind
I exist
in a monochromatic world

at first
when I discovered
my true self
hiding
in my shadow
I found I was
drowning
in the deepest sea
of dark blue misery

anchors of shame
sunk me
to the depths
unable to pull myself
back up
my soul died while submerged
and since then
this sunken vessel
has been empty

sea of sadness
I am
one with you
the pressure
is no longer
overwhelming
it has become
unnoticeable
as with
all else

no joy
no sunshine
can touch this
void
myself
immune to sadness
immune to all
the colors of emotion

please make me real
I just want to feel

Oho, how I love red nails
They mark a promiscuous woman
A lady of stature
Someone is trying to make a statement
But she is far too into her looks
They're so glossy!
As if they weren't in your face enough already
I just love the compliments though
So many!
Forget my brown eyes
Or chameleon skin that is white in the winter
And bronze in the summer
Never mind those chunky thighs
Nice and thick
Thick is in these days
But the thigh rub
It makes a rash as bright as my nails
Which are perfect for a girl who talks with her hands
You just can't look away
You judge in the morning and indulge in the night
You try
But my red nails are red
So they hide the dried blood underneath

I learned the difference
Between grime
And dirt,
At a very young age.
That they can be different
Yet look the same under the fingernails
Of a child.
I hid them,
Bit them,
For I knew what would come if I was not neat.

Disapproving glances at my mother,
How dare she raise such an animal.
Disappointing looks at me,
I never could scrub my nails enough
For the clean to stain.

Lady Macbeth washed her hands
cleaner than Pontius Pilate
with a new improved, bio-enzyme
oxy-bursting, 99.9% germ-scouring
recommended by dermato-logists
scented with rose attar
oils from Arabia
and spermaceti soothing
unguents from long dead whales.

She’s going to the nail bar
for a manicure and application
of semi-permanent, diamond-
tipped, acrylic base-coated
in red blood enamel.

She’ll scratch
and etch rich tattoos
on her husband’s back
with every ******, he will shudder
with pain and delight
He’ll soon forget long, dark nights
bewitched by ghosts and ambition.

© M.L. Emmett

What if I were to **** myself
Not out of love lost ,
Not out of a broken heart,
Not out of lost hope or misplaced faith
But out of the fact that I didn't want to live anymore
What if I were smiling for so long my lips feels like they will never be normal
Should I crease my heart and let my lips fall into place ?
What if behind all the concealer my skin is still broken and confused
What if underneath my sleeves there are lines left behind by filed nails ?
If suicide wasn't in your book of survival is fleeing away acceptable ?
How is that in anyway different ?
Easier to say but hard to perform.
For I'm so distraught now I don't wanna live anymore
What if the deed is done and you find the bottle half empty
Will u ever forgive me ?
Will you put flowers on my grave every new year.
Wishing I was there to see the pretty fireworks my eyes couldn't see anymore.
Would you ever buy a white dress and know I wouldn't ever see you wear it or wear one no more ?
Or would you diminish my face forever?
Shove my memories in a shoe box disposed of in the bottom closet ?
Would you hate me for it?
Will you give my choice a definition ?
Too cowardly not to go on
Too scared to fall
Too sick of being afraid
So let me ask you again
Will you ever forgive me ?