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ash 1d
hereby i announce the signs
the tell-tale of how i met the monsters one random night
and no, i don't remember when exactly
“hello!” they didn’t appreciate me

i saw them in people first
shadowed creatures looking over their shoulders
creeping inside from the back
i watched them take place in their head
and in their eyes—every time i saw myself
what if—what if—what if—

“they know who you are!
they know what you hide!
they will see through you, you need to disguise!
hide! mask! they'll come in the night
despise—despite everything—you need to run and find cover
you can't be bare—not in front of this world
they'll hurt more—seeing the scars you carry
blame it all on you, for the past—when you weren't so merry
they'll see through the false hope and the desires to live
they'll make you hate life more, you need to perish”

then they entered my head
from people, to me—within deep—etched to the core
they haunted all my memories
they stared and made me feel obnoxious

i don't even know—why, when or how
or any of the other questions you could ask around

i have a head full of monsters and i killed them one by one
alas, only if i'd known—they replicated, gave birth to new ones

and so i live
with a demon on my shoulder
a mix of all those who brought me up altogether
and it reminds, and reminds and reminds and screams
it hollows me out, every bit from within

and sometimes i hope i'll find a way to silence it or even a simple meaning
but then i look into the eyes of others, see the mirth—the silent sly creatures—the humans that walk on this earth
and i lend my ear to the demon, let it whisper, let it carry me forward
for who am i, if i can't be scheming

and it wasn't to hurt
but to protect
no one did it for me
i learnt and played myself

never to be just a pawn in their games
the monsters ruled me out, splashed me with blood
as i walked and cut across every other piece on the board
they cheered, screamed and haunted me with all the gore
and i never laughed, only cried
all my tears, my eyes dried

i'd tell you to beware, wish you never see any
for they hold over and ensnare
everyone who's watching, they've had their own
we weren't born with monsters
but now we're the ones that are shown
bright in the light, not simply in the nights
we walk during the day—
i hate my brain.

it sneers, you know?
every time someone tries to get too close
it mocks—my reflection, i see it gripping my nerves
watch it sipping on my blood
and every moment i'm told, “i’m here for you”
the demon sips on my feelings
drains the word, they’re left with no meaning
and every chance i get to feel the warmth—opposite to the usual cold
it leers, peeks over, curses and takes over
it's not me if i push you away, i'd want you to know and understand and for you to stay
please get rid of him for me, for i lose strength day by day
i do not know how longer i can carry
i've got a demon on my shoulder, and it rose from all the ones i walked across
it is cross with the word, an angel at first—it just wouldn't let me be merry.
stay away- that's what i'll say

i want you near though. please stay.
I’ve got diamond eyes, but don’t see myself so clear,
All the excited boys make the most noise,
Yet depression only needs to whisper in an ear.

Words are prison bars; speaking highly of yourself
the danger of being handed a lengthy sentence–
Booked in the library of time; days sitting on a shelf.

… waiting to be read

Let me stay shelved a little longer— reading up,
leading up,
dreaming of a story still becoming
Between the lines; silent – even good stories gather dust
These tales of triumph still tarnish and rust…

Don't judge by how loud or how fast it all looks—
even the best stories get forgotten in books…
misunderstood!
I've got this blanket wrapped around me
While I sit here on the floor and I just can't shake the feeling- I don't want to do this anymore.
I don't want to be quiet, and mousey, and small
I want to be the kind of woman who can have it all
I want to wake up and embrace this pain,
I don't want it to trap me- make me insane
I want to say what I need to say, and live how I feel day after day
So many people I'm trying to impress and it's making my mind a horrible, unorganized mess
I'm drowning in these expectations, sinking in these rules- no one ever asks me what I want to do.
I am not selfish.
I am not dumb.
I'm done living for you,
And I'm done being numb.
I can't be the glue holding everyone together,
I want to have purpose not just as a tether
ash May 29
i see a mass standing in front of the mirror—
a human, perhaps.
i can't call her a girl.
she doesn't have the attributes—
enough to be called all that.

it's a reflection,
undeterred,
simply wretched.

there are marks on the mirror—
proof it hasn't been cleaned.
i wonder if they're on my body too.
i hope the glass has enough cracks
to hide and tell
how it feels every time
i discover the same wrecked look
staring back.

the skin is loose
around a few different hooks,
feels like it's sagging—
i pull so hard,
hoping i'll tear through.

i feel nothing but pain
for her,
hidden beneath all that disgust—
the turmoil i'll put her in,
the self-hatred.

and to think—
she’s just become
a black mass
of everything and nothing.

a loathsome, foolish little being
that can’t fit,
can’t talk,
can’t sit.

she’s not the ideal.
and sometimes i think
her existence
isn’t for the world even—

she’s just a scandal.
i intend to stop this- but it's just so hard.
Kalliope May 28
It's not loss of money,
not the fear of it not working out,
It's not the lack of time,
never enough to keep it all in line,
It's the day they wake up
realizing I'm no longer fun

She used to smile, and laugh so free,
She used to be silly, humorous as can be
She was adventurous and curious and kind,

She is a woman I miss all the time.
Somewhere between 19 and 23
She lost her way,
Her replacements just aren't quite the same
Take the time—don’t just spend it— to watch your grind,
These dreams are brewed, steeped behind these caffeine eyes.
Still, as the sunrise scripts its golden lines, my gaze still delays
Having to put on a daily mask; trapped in yesterday’s disguise.
All of these borrowed hours lace my breath, thinned and worn,
All these seconds spent on second-guessing myself; I’m torn—
Barely paying attention to obvious life lessons due in reflection;
Skipping those lessons, now I pay with life's collection.

As for facing my many regrets, it proves facing the glass—
But not all mirrors can clearly cut clean through the past.
Truths are warped, wrapped for the present, for who peer—
Peering in, fragile as much, cracked, and smeared with fear.
We search within ourselves, as all seekers must willingly do,
Searching for a love clear as glass — one that is sharp, and true.
As peach blossoms fall, and small stones roll, know: that through
The times of picking yourself up, some dust gets stuck on you.

The world isn’t so clear, especially if man’s clarity is uninvolved;
Profiting from all our scars – given titles hanging over ourselves
So many times, that prophets need to remind us of who we are
Profits, or prophets, but it all depends on who’s worth you trust.
ash May 24
there’s something akin to nuts and bolts in my heart, i think.
sometimes i wonder if it’s made out of stone,
or if it’s a machine.

feelings are messy —
and even though the world gave them names,
i can’t match the descriptions,
so i just rename.

something within sometimes pinches too hard.
i’m left wincing,
rubbing at my chest
as if it’ll soothe my past.

i intend to move on — that, i do —
but i can’t put it into words,
can’t explain why i am just because.

"i wasn’t always like this" —
but this?
i don’t know which version of me i speak of.

i’m worried.
deathly worried, more so.
but i just want to keep existing,
’cause —

what if there’s someone out there
willing to oil up these corkscrews in my brain,
have it speak to my heart,
make it make me speak —
and spell it all out?

i intend to find a love.
a mate.
’cause if i was born with something that intends to hurt,
i can’t believe
i was born without someone
who intends to heal
and aid.
like the cinnamon girl by lana del rey
Lemon Black May 24
It’s not the lover of your dreams,
but this one’s real.
The conduits of high allpower
were found abusing their good looks
bar stool away. Today
the aftermath aroma is not yours.
But you were leaving anyway.
Air in. Breath out.
Chew slowly, bite-sizes only.
Array of cross sum plays
you still reserve for yourself
isn’t leading anywhere anymore, it seems.
Things are against the odds.
Mind-over-matter vertebrates
in sanctioned silence of perfect command
repurpose tissue to blossom abdomens,
repurpose world around,
yet cannot find a path to escape
the labyrinths of their own will.
No compromise sent down from the high ground,
no chance for unjudged attempts,
no getting off the hook.
Conceptual passions, patterns and templates to prescribe the most proper pace for the reality to follow, only to learn you can stick up your metronomes the places of your choice. Newfound games and redeveloped rules, contraptions cleverly designed to skew the chances in your favor, none of it gets any attention. Quite infuriating. Until you finally give up on your mirrors and find a much truer reflection to see all this conditioning wasn’t fruitles, far worse, it’s you who got conditioned. To realize that this throbbing pain is actually coming from bashing your head against the wall, almost literally, never finding any openings, though there are ways to get around, above, or even through - if the highest level of intensity is the most desired.
Kalliope May 24
I thought I was good,
I felt I was fine—
everything that’s happened
was just pain that is mine.

My burden to bury,
my cross to hold,
a million and three reasons
I feel like rusted gold.

I became standoffish,
a loner at times,
never letting anyone in,
barely allowing them to stop by.

But it doesn’t have to be that way—
I can open the door.
I don’t have to only give happiness;
I can ask for more.

I’m allowed to take up space,
to be seen and heard.
I deserve people’s time.
They can listen to my words.

It was safe being small,
hiding in plain sight,
but being invisible
never truly felt right.

I deserve to be loved—
to let someone love me.
I don’t have to run.
I can stay and be free.
I lied—
I’ll never regret meeting you.
If I hadn’t, I might have gone through life getting close to others without ever letting them get close to me.
That’s a sad way to live.
So… thank you.
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