Tis the season to be dying
Not too jolly are the lines I'm writing
The hymns mimic my weeping soul
A tune strung with a broken bow
Frail lullabies drenched in sorrow
Wilting with the fading greens
We inhale clouds of dusty air
Cold and fragile as my spine
Tingling numbness in my heart
Like frost bites from within
The finale of an orchestra
An epilogue of sorts
Wintry hails in my disturbed mind
Raining like misfired bullets
From a shoddy gun
Burning letters into my hands
The poetry I craft not pretty
Lacking tales of sugarcoated reality
Mostly tart and somewhat edgy
Infused with truth and too much realitys
I'll light a sparkler tonight.
With a large mouthed grin I will watch it almost touch my skin.
It's the rush I like, the anticpication before the burn.
When it's glistening in my bare hands I will stare to the children.
Wearing warm gloves to protect themselves,
I hope they never become like me.
I'll watch the fireworks explode in vibrant colours and delight.
Looking up to them hoping one day I'll burst colours like they do.
People say I'm like a time bomb, I explode a lot.
But not in the good way like the fireworks do.
I leave wreckage, concerned expressions and caucious reactions.
I've tried to make myself many pretty colours:
Blue, Purple, Pink, Green.
But every time I always fade back to black.
When I think about it fireworks are rather depressing to me,
I'm jealous of them, I envy them.
I want nothing more to make people smile.
For at least someone to look at me and think I'm beautiful.
But I get slanted eyes, nervous hands and quaking lips.
I sure go out with a bang, but I'm always left with a scar from it.
When you find self destruction in even the most beautiful and innocent things,
you really start to believe somethings wrong with you.
Thinking of death and destruction becomes boring after 4 years.
I've looked at every object, person and place thinking about how it could hurt me.
I wan't to look to the sky tonight and treasure the moment.
To not think of how I want the embers to fall and singe my skin,
To not look into the pit of harsh glowing orange and want to throw myself into it,
But to see twinkly pastel colours and think of hope.
Cotton candy pink and light fluorescent blue surely cannot hurt me.
I can choose how heavily this weighs upon me
I can pick the weight pressing more and more upon my shoulders
Or I can pick feathers to carry
I can choose turmoil, churning me up from the inside
Or I can choose to walk in grace
I can pick minutes so long they never seem to end
Or I can pick days that slip through my fingers
I can choose a mind filled with a thousand games
Or I can choose saved brains
I can pick a heart heavy with all my cares
Or I can pick the promises of God.
I choose peace.
My mind isn't black
More of a dark blue
Like a bruise
Just beginning to heal
The way I breathe
Not at all
And then all at once
Is painfully inconsistent
How you assumed
I was okay
Could not have been further
From the truth
I slipped so quickly
Into that dark place
But it's all in my head
Someone please let me out
I wish I could live in the same house
As my brothers and my little sisters
I wish I could sleep under the same roof
As my family does
I wish the same shingles that cover my birth giver
And the same blankets that cover my male parental unit
But, there are a few things that come between
The intentional emotional detachment
The loving abusive comments
The lying, aggression and confrontation, those definitely factor in
But you know when God closes a door he opens a window
But when you don't have a door to lock and hide behind, God can't close it.
But the creepy old man
Who's touched me
And tried to touch me
The way my mouth taste like metal when I bite my tongue to keep from screaming in fustration
The way my body freezes as his claws dig into my leg
The way my mind breaks down like crumbs of a cookie
That is to much to bear.
I have a question.
When you got your Daddy card did you skip over the fine print? Did you forget your glasses so that you couldn't read? Did you just skim over it to fast so that it didn't register? You know, the part where it says protection?
Provision. You got that down pat. No doubt about it. But I mean 50%? That's not a pass by any grading system.
It slips off the end of my tongue and tries to crawl back in. So many times have I had to retreat within myself because I was not under your wings.
Do I love you? Yes.
Do I trust you? Not with a spoon.
Not with my heart, not with myself.
Does that sadden my soul? Oh Lord does it ever.
I wish it was another way.
I wish I could live in your house.
But a house of hell is not one I can call home.
Victim I am
Taken I'm not
Purity of the flesh,
of the skin before you,
covered in lines of red.
Expressions of clean
sickens the brain
of ever forgetting the dread.
Desire travels past
stirring up emotions
beckoning days on end
through the shining of silver
and on this we've come to depend
Would it be okay...
if I were to say
just this once
and then i'll be through?
She once thought she was strong,
She once believed she could take it all.
She sat, picking flowers,
giving them to her Mama,
as a sign of happiness and love.
She pranced through the halls,
in her long flow-y gown,
being told she could be whatever she wanted.
She became the little tom boy, with her hat on backwards.
She ran 'round with her brother and friends,
and used him as her role model.
As she grew older, she realized...
She was more like her brother than she expected.
But she's not alone.
He was alone.
He envies what she has,
What he lacked.
She realizes the mistakes,
The terrible things she should've stopped,
and the things she never started.
He had no one,
She has two.
He told nobody,
She told few.
He was secretive,
but she knew.
She once thought she was strong,
She once believed she could take it all...
she once thought she could give up.
She reminds herself, He didn't.
He had no one, but he stayed strong.
He survived. She tells herself,
So can you.
Stop saying my body is "goals"
stop saying i have mesmerising eyes
stop saying my smile is charming
Or that i'm a sweetheart
Stop calling me beautiful
Beautiful girls don't sit at home alone on saturday nights
Beautiful girls don't cry themselves to sleep
And they don't hate what they see in the mirror
beautiful girls get good grades
beautiful girls get a lot of attention from guys
Beautiful girls are friends with everyone
they're not shy
they don't get anxiety attacks over having to make a phone call
Beautiful girls don't obsess over not having washed their hands for an hour
And they don't count calories
beautiful girls don't smile at the ground when they get a compliment
They face the person who complimented them and compliments them back...
Beautiful girls know how to write a proper poem.
a beautiful girl is that girl in the front of the class, who gets straight A's and doesn't even have to try
She has long blonde hair and blue eyes.
she has straight teeth and a killer smile and all the guys are always around her.
and She's never alone on saturday nights
"daddy, i'm so tired all the time.."
of course you are.. you barely eat...
no you don't... you only just eat enough to survive
you eat less than your 5 year old sister.
- I don't know why... and i haven't thought about it.
I like my body trust me
But i don't want food
I am hungry, but i don't eat till the hunger has passed i only eat because i have to... if i didn't have to i wouldn't eat.
Eating bores me
Eating makes me feel nonproductive
I haven't thought about the fact that i eat less than my 5 year old sister... and i can't understand why daddy hasn't said anything before now..
And now i can't wait to get on the weight because i wanna see if he's actually right, that i'm losing weight..
Trust me i'm not trying to... idk why i'm doing this...