I've a job to do;
One element leads to the next,
As in a domino effect.
I'll research the outcomes,
Assess the inventory of supplies on hand.
I sit in the chair, with notepad and gavel
And scribble an entry plan.

     I've done this before
     With previous bankruptcies:
     When the intake exceeds any dividends,
     When demand superceded supply,
     When demand was pervasive.

Job prospects are looking up,
And my Resume reads well:
Especially the Work Related Experiences.

     Early retirement is inconceivable.
     I'd hire me on a probationary period.
     You see, there is my family to consider.
     I'll be the first domino.

Externally we're a fortress
Built on a mountain conceived of pride
Fearlessly we shine when hit by the sun's ray
But our foundation is made of porcelain
Our walls of glass
We are breakable, dangerously so
Everyday we crumble a bit more
Under the weight of ourselves
The very matter we're made of
Slipping further from the mountaintop
Yet you would never know from the way we look at a distance
Stunning and unobtainable
It's only when you come closer
When you bother to step inside our walls
And hear to the crunch of your footsteps
In our darkest places where all you can do is listen
Can you begin to grasp just how fragile we really are
So do not let us deceive you into thinking you aren't allowed inside
For every fortress was created so that it's beauty could be admired
Inside and out

Me:

Pale eyes,

Big thighs,

and flat hair

Chest that resembles waves

And skin like the dead leaves of the fall



You:

Eyes like honey dew,

Artistic mountain-like figures your voice drew

You seem to be perfect, don't you?

With the way you batter your eyelids

and my lids, they cause hurricane winds



Rough draft copies of tragedies

My life a constant mixture of sin and sanity

You, you're trapped in vanity.



Am I a buffalo, with a targets on my sides?

You're bullet of jokes stings.

I bleed blood from my eyes



I wish I was the carcass now,

But the other half of me continues to go on now.

You seem to hate my posture

Hate the way my mouth cracks under all the pressure.

Sue, SUE, SUE, SUICIDE WHERE YOU ASIDE

from when I need you to wipe the tears, my eyes



Is it when I'm alone and vulnerable you seem

to want to comfort me?

I wouldn't blame you to not want to be seen with

The **** of the joke.



I do not like the way your larynx

lashes out to me

Like whips to a slave

Leaving scars, the words

My skin, the page.



But it's ok.

I'll take the pain.

After all it's just a joke

It's only a game

Even though your self esteem won't be the same.

Relax, don't go insane.

That's one of the joys (the pain) of being the **** of the joke

Hello Love I'm breaking up with you
tired of all the little things you do
and I'm telling you now cause I'm feeling blue.
You might return, but I don't think so
can't believe what you choose to show
not that you say what I already know.
Forget you loved me
time moves on you'll soon see
that some love isn't meant to be.
Goodbye my inner demon so divine
hey Pauline I won't let you shine
I'm taking this broken reflection as my sign.

Weeds that grow, wind to and fro
We cannot let them go,
I can not let them go.

Abrasively dismayed
By the ones, with whom she played.

Winding up a glaze,
To cover eyes at which you gaze.

Melting forests, tied with old
Thoughts and feelings, poured the mold,
Upon which hardships now behold.

Carry on your storm,
For it is why the sky was born.

There are too many hairs
I keep blowing off my keyboard
To pretend they aren’t there
And that they can be ignored.
I can't pretend I have gone blind,
I am admitting they are all there
And that they come from me;
They truly are my own hair.

It must be true, I hazard
Because I can see my scalp.
It’s a situation from aging
For which there is no help.
I have long expected it.
It will do no good to whine.
The disappearing tonsure
I needs must claim as mine.

And so I placate myself
With selfish comparisons
I may look older than others
But much better than some.
Not many decades ago
I once thought sixty was old.
I am thankful for my friends
Who decided not to scold.

They knew I was being
Just the least bit callow.
But they avoided labeling me
With words like vain and shallow.
So, perhaps the vain part
I have with me even now,
And I would abandon that
If I could figure out how.

everyone describes it as a sinking feeling.
i felt it more like a steamroller on my chest.
it squeezed my heart of all its contents,
my self-esteem rushed out like newly laid asphalt,
while my motivation shriveled up
under the unforgiving sun.
Love stuck to the steamroller
and got pulled out of me like
it was never there to begin with.
the only thing left holding together my crippled heart was
Sadness
who sewed me back all wrong;
too blinded by his tears to watch his stitching.

I am a star,
Shining bright for all to see.
Until I remember,
There are millions more aside from me.

I am a star,
Who on her own shines brightly.
But there’s always one
Who smugly must outshine me.

I am a star,
Always there, but try as I might,
It won’t take much
To outshine my feeble light.

I am a star,
Who can’t find her place in the sky.
But someday you’ll see,
I’ll be brighter than the moon, ever nigh.

My mirror is covered in cracks and flaws, and some parts that make you look fatter, like a funhouse mirror, and it clings to dust and dirt and fingerprint smudges of oil.
But I don't replace it.
Because sometimes it's easier to spot the flaws in the mirror than to fixate on my flaw riddled body,
Flaws that aren't just skin deep,
The night is beautiful but deadly.
When you can't see, you have to find new flaws to detest,
It's addictive to beat yourself,
I'm in an abusive relationship where I don't mean to hurt me and I can't leave myself-
And there's some macabre satisfaction in the dependable breaking,
Like I know every night I will go to sleep hating the fact that I am still breathing,
There are memories haunting me from as young as ten,
Things that shouldn't still be repeating,
I can't work out how it just keeps accumulating,
Words spoken
And thoughts
And I don't know if anyone else feels sentences as deeply as I do,
And I'm running out of personality to stick pins into,
Trying to fix myself with voodoo
They say negative reinforcement is the quickest way to correct behaviour but I make the same mistakes
it's not okay that I constantly feel like I'm failing,
But life is more than a high-stakes game
And everyone's saying that all teenagers feel this way
But it's not reassuring to know that my generation is one of lost souls and hate.
And we're all really angry,
Whether it's because we'll be working till we're 90 or conflict left undated
Racism still exists and the Chancellor of Germany is getting called a ****
While anyone Asian is labelled Indian or ****
And eating disorders run rampant through the territory where anorexic girls get priority while the boy who binge eats is just called fatty.
And this is where I insert a statistic to convince you that we're unhappy but I refuse to be quantified just so I can mean something.
And it doesn't let up,
Compliments are uncomfortable and seeing good in yourself is arrogance, criticisms self pity
And you never know if they want to help you or just ensure that you understand the importance of conformity
It doesn't take much to convince someone you're okay.
There's not much you need to say
And if you can laugh then you're fine and we know no one checks the closets for skeletons because they're filled with people too afraid to come out of them
People accept 'fine' because they just need to know that they asked the question,
And besides, deeper questions get stuck beneath my skin.
And even when someone else compliments me I don't believe them,
Pushing away others cause I need distance,
Sometimes I feel sick from the level of enforced interaction but people only see the side they want to see.
When I told my friends about the time I struggled with suicidal thoughts they expressed their sympathies and it hasn't come up since.
Romanticising illnesses leaves me unsure if I am suffering or if I just want to be,
And part of me has to agree that diagnosis and its certainty would be better than the admission that life is just like this
You can't get better if it's something you can't fix
I don't think I'm broken but maybe I was made to the wrong specifications cause it feels like I am missing something but at the same time there is too much of me and not just physically
I am choking on the sheer volume of my past, present and impeding future
Trying to get it together
Told that it's okay if I don't know where I want to go
But in year 9 we picked our gcses which determined our a levels which determined our university courses which determine our career, if we even get there.
I keep finding new problems
I am still haunted by the old ones.
But I'll be okay,
Cause today
Someone told me to love myself.