I was born that way, my vessels ran on poison, not on blood
You knew it since day one, poison ivy is what they fed me to survive
There's no room for happy endings here, just a funeral for my broken heart.
You lured me in a cage, other than my mind
Let me out once in a while only to taste the sweetness that is freedom melt in my tongue
So you'd lock me back in and impoverish me little by little every time you got the chance.  
I yelled through the burning railings of that jail for a surgeon as soon as I realised you had betrayed my trust
'Cause if only someone could give me a lobotomy, half my sufferings would've already been long forgotten and done.
You had always known my greatest enemy has been my brain
All its delusions, all the memories it still persists on replaying
You exploited this lost love I kept on mourning
As if suddenly the world had run out of  honourable men,
As if I was a pockmarked ridicule ****** in exile forced to look in
To all the things I had but was punished for wanting
I've laid my ***** hands on the holy potion that was only designed for the illustrious mortals
Or at least that's how the legend has been told.
What a shame my lover hunted me down with the rest of the peasants and threw me in the pyre
Where did you get the nerve to stand right across me after the turntables and ask for mercy?
You lend your hand to the tormented witch to hold on to before you went ahead and stabbed it
Had my arteries cut with medical precision as if killing me had all along been your master scheme
Why was I supposed to sit and take it while you deprived me of every little bit of dignity and life I had left in me?
Did it make you feel more alive seeing me pleading in the name of our love as you pushed me closer to the verge of death?
Once you traded me for a couple of bucks and praises with the Hopkins, your "I love you's" echoed all the way down to the grim reaper's canyon
The sound pierced my ears as the flames started to dissolve my skin.
You could've done both of us a favour if you had just stayed in your lane
An egoist can never tell when to stop,
A narcissist never knows their place
And no one hates more than I, talking smack about the one I love the most
But we both knew you'd repeatedly choose your ego over my well being
Thus you had no right claiming you were simply acting out of humane instinct
Never minded my origin till it felt convenient
Used it as an excuse to justify your blemished course of action
Swore to your own that you were under my spell
Though I bet it felt empowering when you spread my legs open on your allies' chambers and pulled my hair.
You managed to get under a witch's skin
And that doesn't mean I didn't like it, I'm not one to go back at my word  
Is it possible for the greedy to finally have had enough?
Could the conventional ones tardily revolt?
Or did the poison they fed me maim you too
When it found its way out of my neck and straight onto your mouth?
In this open grave lies a sad truth, other than my now lifeless body;
You weren't cut out for falling in love,
You weren't made for the real thing.
Somehow you've broken the status quo, went ahead and did it
You've loved for the first and last time
If I had known how this would end I'd vehemently take it all back
Because in the process you turnt me into damaged goods
I gave you more than you could possibly pray for
Yet you sacrificed me to the god's of your bluest blues.
I fight the urge to scream and take a stand against all this unfairness
You'd most likely howl back “life's not fair” anyway
With that same cold stone look you gave me
When you shrieked “Don't toss rocks at her, just throw her in the fire!”
I'd been on my knees wearing my heart on my sleeve since you disclosed your last move in this fatal match of chess.
How naive of you to think I'd offer you a free pass just because you were the one that got away!
I held hostage your queen, slit that pretty little throat of hers which you adore in two
Didn't you regret it all when you saw me blood-soaked in the whirlpool?
We all have our weaknesses, we all have our pain
But you chose to bury me, instead of being the one who stayed.

You talk like you own me  
But the past is messing  
With your head.

A long-standing crush,  
One-sided and so  
Destructive.

You've fallen in a  
Pit of despair.

Instead of focusing  
On yourself,

You left me broken  
And bruised

And I don't know  
What to do.

It's got me feeling  
Hopeless

I'm lost and  
Confused,

You're getting  
Under my skin.

I didn't ask you  
To bleed for me

Your focus  
Is so obsessive

I'm one step closer  
To the edge of  
Cardiac arrest.

I only wanted to  
Live and let go,

But you're still  
Stuck in the past,  
Stuck inside yourself

Not making any effort  
To do better and rise above  
This and help yourself.

I cared to be loved,
Loved the adoring.
He swore that he did.
Oh, the great deceiving!
Was it him or me— who's at fault?
For I felt nothing, not for him, not at all.
If I were him, I too would resent me.
Then why do I not feel guilty?
He was the first to **** me with his—
Words or gaze; his entire existence
Drove me mad. There was no escaping.
If hell was earth, I was in it,
Burned holes into my body every time his two eyes found me, the lovely gazing.
I still bear the scars of thirteen.

a doll in caring hands is hardened, wiser than the eyes might betray.
looks up, wide-eyed and sincere,
hoping that this day will be another filled
with laughter, love, and fun.

and in caring hands, the doll, outwardly
pristine yet bearing scars all their own,
sees opportunity. friendship, love, care,
hope.

each day is an adventure all its own,
thread-bare truths, communion, lust, a metaphor, after whom they were modeled.

the metaphor houses more than communion and lust-- misunderstanding, learning, fear are all fighting to be seen, heard, felt.
wanted. needed. heard.

in caring hands, they will be. they deserve
to be. smiling wholly on the inside, serene,
fulfilled, attended to.

caring hands impart the love they need
in the measure they require, sonorous,
generous, kind. full and deep. because they
were crafted in the image of a lover,
we just didn't ask which it was.

I stare with an endless hope — an aching
in the deepest part of me, envisioning
the beauty that my eyes will behold
As I wait, I hold onto that hope,
knowing that one day
I will gaze into what my heart
has patiently desired to see.

I have a ＿＿＿.
It smells like ＿＿＿.
My ＿＿＿ is ＿＿＿
And isn't ＿＿＿.

When I feel ＿＿＿,
I ＿＿＿ a rose
Or ＿＿＿ a ＿＿＿.
Go ＿＿＿ ＿＿＿ ＿＿＿!

Teardrop echoes; the tone of your skin drains away,
painting another picture of the night. Whistle-blowers of the night-
torchbearers of the day; kids fighting each other for tree turfs;
skipping stones at early morning ducks. But their mother
inside doesn’t have much time to duck his punch

Well domesticated dogs, too afraid to bark at the night’s
domestic violence. Dominated skin under the dominator’s tight
hands; the love of a shape-shifter— changing its skin to appear
loving for ten pairs of eyes; striking down with a false picture
of love- to the sight of six eyes. Like claws that sink into your
skin; he’s drunk again!

A day away from shelter; for a heaven that does exist from
one’s bruised knees. For all the hurt draped over troubled
shoulders, unfurled eyes crying silent tears bouncing off
the walls

                     A child in the next room hears the teardrop echoes