I was washed up on your shores
thinking you were serine blanket
                      that would caress me.

But you were more like a breeze
               gently eroding me before
I knew I was less than I was before.

You shaped me into a figure that
was useful eroding me inwards
             till I was a shell of my former self.

When I ever listened within,
     I only heard your voice washing
                           in waves seducing my mind.

I don't mind
the pebble in my shoe
I don't mind
three words that lost their core
I don't mind
the hidden scars on my back
I don't mind anything
anymore.

As far as the eyes can see,
there is nothing wrong with me.
They cannot see my broken heart,
or my wounded soul.
They cannot see this little girl
lost inside her own home.

- Stranger in this human shell

Constantly bashed,
rinsed daily,
used as an artist's ashtray,
or a hippies necklace,
Enough contained inside
to suffice and survive.

Moods form the swirls
and my lattice artwork,
You held me once in
wonder and awe,
Now you sell me on your
wicker stand.

Friends have wept over the loss
of their inner pearl,
I held no such treasure.
Just possibilities of where I have been.
Patiently await the day you hold me to your ear again,
So I can hear your heartbeat

I study the curvature of your spine
and the lines of your body

glances that last no more than a
couple of seconds

glances that are unbeknownst to you
fighting the internal battle

I have two armies

ready for all out war
red versus blue

heart versus mind
their bullets leave

holes in my soul
healing only to

be re opened again
for you are a

warrior of your own kind
weathered down by the

corrosive waters that
we call life

you have two stones on
your shoulders

and a library of books
resting on your spine

and i want to carry them
for you

because darling you are a
beautiful rose

with thorns like two sided
blades

made to keep people out
and to keep you inside

the prison you call your
mind

unable to prune those thorns
i can only study

the ever growing shadows
under your eyes

and the dryness of
your lips

you built a plaster cast
over your most vulnerable parts

waiting for the person
who will fight the pain

of pruning your thorns
for darling

you are a shell of what
you once were

and all i can do is watch
you recede into yourself

Empty
Eyes wide open, but refuse to see.
Why not a smile?
In it I can taste the bile.
Why not tears?
Or saying cheers?
You would watch me. Make sure I'm safe and sound.
But my eyes are hollow underground.
The surface shows what I decide
But underneath, I am me, hollow. But I have already lied.
Can you take back something you aren't truly sorry for?
Or will those same demons come back, begging for more?
No. DEMANDING for it
And I just watch, while I idly sit.
I always thought myself a fighter.
But you can't burn a match without a lighter.
Here I am in the crowd
Watching from the upside down.
Feeling a presence but how to communicate
Or by the time I say something, will it be too late?
Just a hollow look, portraying a hollow soul.
If no one wants me to follow them, perhaps I won't fall down a rabbit hole.
I'd rather be seen as empty and hollow
Than be used and abused by those I know.
I may be empty to the world
But am I truly empty to me?

One day,
There was a man
Dancing gracefully
Beneath an azure sky

He was an angel,
To every living being
That paint his body
With a red color

He was a joy
Living in a man,
No other jester bested
The way he laughs

Beneath it all,
Is a wandering soul
In a world full of foul
(A wandering body)
(A wandering shell)

Beneath the mask,
A mask where his eyes
Tell what the hidden color
They have painted,
Is a burst of erratic pain,
A holocaust,
A disastrous despair,
Misery, sorrow, anger, suffering,
Any devil has wrought upon him.

And... the mask fell...
He is a shell...