i hid behind a mask everyday,
my true emotions unseen,
i smile at you with crying eyes,
but you could never notice that.
after all these years my mask started to fade,
that porcelain smile turned to dust and blew far far away,
...fear all now on full display.
what about your happiness?
it flew away.
All I want is to sit in a dark corner and cry.
But I have no tears my ducts have run dry.
I've had this feeling for months and months. I can't lose him, my devil still hunts.
Voices in my head trying to put me under his spell. I know one thing, I do not want to carry out their instruction, and perform there near-death stunts.
But you see, my resolve is week so it begins, through flesh I will saw.
With this there is no big mystery, there is only one conclusion one must draw....
This girl simply wishes to hurt no more.
"Please don't revive me!" She would implore.
From her final resting place; the bathroom floor
Rain showers, mazes uncovered
Dancing like a little child with a toy
Reclaimed as the drizzles recovers
Pouncing jumps like a kangaroo
The winter burns as the fire blaze
Warmed by the ambience of the logs
Reflections denuded, secrets unearthed
Times lost bouncing like a ball
Bare and **** in the cool mist and fog
A shadowy phantom arises me
An Orion exhibit, my alpha constellation
Carving me out of the hidden cave
Represents my happy mood, no worries whatsoever about the immediate.
It's cold and the winter burns. However the fire is warm enough to keep me lighted up. Reflecting back on life, I wonder why I have wasted time. The aspect of time bouncing like a ball was fascinating to me.
I lay myself bare with no secrets. It's me I have nothing to hide. Yet, the arrangements of the world remain limiting to some aspect and this makes existence seem "misty and foggy". However, I have got the stars to look up to. Especially, I saw the orion constellation today and it mused me. Amused and appeased me to the point that I had to leave my cave. Here I am all denuded and naked.......
Look please don't take every word I say liturgically.
Not always referring to myself.
Some of my poetry is fiction.
Some of it fact.
That's more interesting.
Keep you guessing.
If there's anything wrong
I'll soon let you know
My chest and thighs are warm
under the sheets
Hands and feet, oddly cold
Why am I feeling as a corpse?
It’s breaking into my heart,
It feels like sickness
It feels empty
for the first time i am leaving my fate in the hands of another
and i stand here waiting,
I am unnerved to the point that I consider completely turning back around and forgetting it all
because being alone with thoughts full of potential
is easier than relinquishing part of myself to you.
my naked body is nothing compared to you seeing me truly stripped down
just pour me a shot and play my favorite song.
the monsters under my bed will introduce themselves to you
and unapologetically i would let you in
but only if I turn around and know
that your hands are waiting there to hold mine
— The End —