Mind like a night sky
Far-off stars dying, make me want to die too
Forever gazing at the day sky
Sky blue like the denim above my shoe
The sky looks stained through my window
As I stare, self-contained in thy limbo

Idiosyncrasy May 3

When you put on your makeup
     to turn gray into vibrance
Or when the costumes you wear
     are no longer pretend
I'll be with you till the very end.

There are things to tell you but the show needed rain.
Izzy Apr 4

I want it to show
I want red eyes,
           tear stained cheeks,
           bloody, bruised knuckles
I don't want these echos in my head at 2 a.m
I don't want these images burned to my eyelids anymore
I want to wear it, to show it
I want it to cover me, to surround me like it did my parents
I want it to show but I hide it
                  So they don't worry

April Apr 1

Show me I'm a good person.
Show me I'm more than a basic girl
A basic girl that has depression and anxiety.
Show me you care.
Show me it doesn't matter.
Show me it'll be alright.
Show me everything is okay.

Cecil Miller Apr 1

My words come back  
To me, speak
Of my house of cards,
My house of freaks.
How the danger
lingers near -
How she whispers
in my ear -
How the torture,
So divine -
Mother Valentine!

(hope you liked it)

Wrote this about three years ago

Got a girl
100% new..Not me..
Good for you
I'm so Damn proud
That you're too good for me
I put on a show
Just for you
His hands on me
Ended with nothing.
What am I to say
Was it for you or him?
Who's to say.
You were jealous.
He loves me
Really this time
Funny how this poem didn't rhyme

A poetic
password feels
right today
as she
drew lines
parallel with
her cadence
that logic
shorten arc
of real
flatulent her
desire now
circumcise blind
interaction to
dissect lateness
but to
ensure righteous.

You can see it all from my window;
open wide, no blinds,
all at my window.

The show has begun.
Every night I headline,
dress then rewind; so fine.

Moonlight on skin;
sin invites our minds.
You strive to remain in hide,
outside my window.

Lust drives me and you.
Slow, ribbons flow down to my shoes;
heels, a seductive red.

On my bed, I relax.
Be my witness to climax,
from outside my window.

cross my heart and hope to die
without a trace and no goodbye
I'll leave you gaping with a hole in your chest
I stole the one thing you gave freely and yet
woefully in denial you scrape up whats left
which wont be much as I took all you had
you search and search but
you're always two steps back
you stop and remember how I use to laugh
how I use to kiss you and stare into your eyes
if only, you say, you had known they were lies
cross your heart and hope to die
you vow to find me or perish trying

The Con Artist of the Heart's Pov
(Inspired by the new TV Show Impostors)
Mysidian Bard Feb 19

We both read our scripts,
but we're not on the same page.
You and I are just actors
who treat life as the stage.

We rehearse our lines,
but they're not what we mean,
for once lets break character
and call cut on this scene.

We could steal the show
if we rewrite the play
and end the charade
of this macabre matinee.

We've reached the finale,
there's no encore after all.
This is our shot,
our last curtain call.

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