Her own love isn't enough
it never is
not when she can't be what her mother wants.
tears of desperation fall and
linger below her eyelashes
and dry on her cheekbones

those cheekbones her mother gave her
those cheekbones her mother birthed to her
Yet,
she wasn't enough
not when her other children
are there.

One more time,
she tells herself
thoughts of hope and accomplishment
give her pride, give her validation,
yet not enough validation
to be cared for like the other children
not enough to be heard.

her mother's words caress her
endearing her that she's good enough.
But the truth that she feels is
so powerful and vivud,
she knows that she possibly
couldn't be good enough.
No matter how many
things her mother tells her,
she knows the truth,
even if her mother can't see the truth.

It's not enough.
Not when she can't be the daughter
her sister is; she
could never be for her mother.

Sophistication,
is it determined by grace,
by stature,
or by class?

For sophistication is to
be defined by not what
a person has, but
by what a person can
accomplish.

His hands were calloused,
they were home and a
remedy for the mixture of
my sickness that I never
could pinpoint.

Hands, such a feature
that could be the instrument
of a subordinate
and domineering teacher.

They are looked upon,
not given thought nor inquisition,
but that wasn't the case for me.

Those hands were
where I found my
reprieve, an unhealthy
and vindictive reprieve.

Those hands were
a paradox of all
things combined.
Those hands were a
paradox for the cruelties
and involuntary injustices
in the world; A world
that was filled with grizzly
reprimands and slurs for
those who spoke up.

Indeed, a paradox those
controlling and
manipulative hands were.
They were cruel.
They were kind.
They were abusive.
They were reassuring.
They were foreign.
They were home.
They were the origin
for my shred of sanity.
They were the origin
for my absurdity.

Oddly enough,
they were home.

A cruel world seals
its fate and its pearls.
It leaves the rarity of
oddities abandoned among
the normalities of abuse.

Among those normalities
and oddities were those
hands.

Thorns cut so deep
they broke through the barrier
of my hard whipped flesh.

  They were coarse,
they were harsh,
and barbed with
the ambiance of
torment.

They pricked at my skin,
ushering up trickles
of crimson.

   The small droplets and lines
  of such a vibrant color
coated my skin in the
philosophy of neglect and
malnutrition of empathy.

Thorns wrapped themselves
around my body, encompassing
them in a way that showed
no
mercy.

I was the result of such an action,
I was cut and bleeding,
and yet I remained standing,
for the pain and torment of the
lingering thorns and their
barbed prefaces became
a part of me.

I can circumvent your systems.
I can infiltrate your ranks.
I can pass inside the shadows
Quietly along your river banks.

Only in the shadows can you find me.
Come on in and see what you will find
In the places I have slithered into,
The darkest, cob-webbed courners of your mind.

In the darkness of the night,
From where comes the dove,
Materializes
Your envoy of love.

Here for your privelidge,
He fits like a glove.
Wear him like midnight,
Your envoy of love.

You can count on him.
You won't be let down.
The spectre in the night that comes to you
Is the diamond in your crown.

He's nothing but a dream,
Your imagination
Moving in the shadows of your room.
He is the part of you
That will not let go of hope.

He is everything you see,
All and much above
The highest dream you have,
Your envoy of love.

Keep him to you self.
In verse, cantillate of,
But always hide in code
Your envoy of love.

Bring the noise in your head.
Let it splatter on the wall.
I can help you find the meaning
In the scramblings that you find so puzzling.

Lift your voice to the heavens;
Raise your fists at the gods,
If it helps you assemble
All the fragments of a life you thought was gone for good.

Take no more time
To wallow in your doubt.
Let's seize this moment
To figure it out.
The answers lie inside of you,
I can help you see your truth.
Together we will walk the path,
That winding frozen rivery glass.
I can melt your lonely frozen heart,
If you permit me just a start.

Anger has been your bridgroom
And you feed on the aingst.
You are as the speck of dust
Swirling in the sunny ray through the window blind.

So, suffer at your own will;
Hurt at your own behest.
Know that just outside the shadow
There is a hand that waits
For you to reach out for it's touch.

Take no more time
To wallow in your doubt.
Let's seize this moment
To figure it out.
The answers lie inside of you,
I can help you see your truth.
Together we will walk the path,
That winding frozen rivery glass.
I can melt your lonely frozen heart,
If you give me just a start.

In this day and age.
We're all pressured to write something original.

But with every piece of art in this world.
Every single thing being written.

We're inspired by different things.
Isn't everything fan-fiction?

The floor beneath me crumbles away.
The picture that you've drawn dissolves.
I used to take the words you said to me on faith.
My sacrilege was in knowing,
But loving you this long.

The sparkles in your eyes ignite me;
Reflections of your teary eyes.
You can take the words I say on faith.
Enough now of this heresy.
I've loved you for too long.

What was a singularity
Began to walk in single file.
Now agents of your faithless heart
Fall to the heaping pile.

You came to me as someone
I would give my life to serve

But the way that you are now
Means my whole world has changed
I don't know
If it's better or it's worse
I only know
That it's real.

Your regal words designed a world
That was fitting to my foolish heart.
I thought that you worked magic but it was illusion.
My blasphemy was in knowing
And still loving you this long.

The tender nature of your lie enticed me.
I put my faith in it.
I gave my life to you.
I gave, gave you all,
My all is true;
And lie is all you do
My blasphemy was seeing it,
And letting it continue.

At first it was a trickle,
But it became a stream.
Now the riverbanks erode,
Washed out in your flood.

You came to me as someone
I would give my life to serve

But the way that you are now
Means my whole world has changed
I don't know
If it's better or it's worse
I only know
That it's real

Not just a lie,
Not just a scheme,
It is exactly as it seems.

I don't know
If it's better or it's worse.
I only know
That it's real.

Here on this street, you try talk to me;
I don't want to hear it,
There is nothing more you have for me.
Watch me get smaller down the street,
So I don't have to hear
Another word of your fantasy.