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Avaleen Jun 2018
and your words unravel me
like the silken strands you were woven from
K Lupus Oct 2017
Something I barely remember
grating my insides
Kept wringing my heart
As if never lost

Memories that I selfishly treasure
left none for me to recall
Braided cords
with ends unraveling

Traversing with emptiness
searching for someone
I so wish to ever find
Your name engraved in my mind
Kimi no Na wa
James Gable May 2016
The weathervane slept high above with a lolling head.
Clouds were holidaying excessively in Spain.
Sun was lost in a haze after chain smoking cooling towers.
A lethargic wind, moseying low with cat-like whiskers,
I hear it complain “I’m tired” in child-like whispers.

My hands are sweat-sore with callouses
And salty enough to summon the call of gulls in numbers;
I find shade, imagining myself as a cartoon Huck Finn.
When I put dry grass between cracked lips and think of dustbowls
In a zoetrope of sun-stroke, I vanish through my buttonholes.

This is now where one would rise, wake or come to.
Nothing I recognise, else the world is enveloped in storms.
I strain my sight, blink repeatedly to force myself awake,
The angels are listening, I hear wheezing, see fingers in my dreams
Gripping tightly to milk thistle stars, bursting at the seams.

Amongst the angels, whispering too! Did the stars imprison you?
Free-spirit like mother, but I slept our childhood through
Sustained by knowledge gleaned from canteen floors—
My eyes feel somehow sharp, heavy, like spears more than eyes;
I thought I saw the weathervane spinning madly, unraveling the skies!

Nobody talks about the weather.
There is a good chance of wrought nerves.
This is a time of stillness and dwelling on doorsteps,
In doorways where death sits among us, resting his eyes,
An end to the ration that was harmless reminiscence
As memories go up in the heat like celluloid;
Now the stars are a steely prison
Heaven’s lustre is lost, missing.
Through the angels I have seen that this is a time of living -
Through our dreams I have seen that this is a time of living -
Outside the confinement of the Holocene.

*—I have dreamt of drowning...often. I always seem to wake up out and breath and feel I can taste the salt in my mouth but fear does not play any part in these dreams.
Part Seven of The Man Who Longed to be an Oyster (see collections)
D I A Mar 2015
In a single motion
He fell
Wind in his hair
The sky brightening
His eyes closed
Listening to the music of a faraway land
Slight smile on his face
If only he was sleeping.
NitaAnn Jan 2015
The threads of my life
Slowing being pulled apart
I do not know how to stop
The damage
Repair the holes
They continue to grow
These holes in my soul
Constant pulling
My clumsy attempts
At patches
Failing over and over
Can anybody help me?
Andrew Saromines Dec 2014
I find the time I spend alone in barren lands beholds a wonder all its own
The dip and turn of roads leading to holes
Bringing all the progress to a halt
Exalted madness rules over logic not sought
Chasms grow and here I am rooted to one spot
Becoming one with complacency
Once leading now takes second seat
I see the scene of life so keen through eyes I've been
I am not me
I do not think
I tread the ground with iron feet
Unravelled it seems I've become a string
In a single direction my being can be seen
So many wrong turns and right twists
Each leap leads to the next spread
Snow so thin interrupted with each step
And I trek
Spilling my insides with each stride
I try not to digress but the stress
And the hate
And my chest is raked with pain
I can't go back but forward isn't there to obtain
The air feels thin only teasing the blood in my veins
A thousand stories on my skin, stained
I've begun the process of forgetting my brain
Savannah Jane Oct 2014
you said you'd pull the thread
from my skin till my bones
felt embarrassed by all the attention
well they do
just a warning,
you're about to pull
the last thread
that's holding me together.
I wrote this after listening to I don't care if you're contagious by pierce the veil. so that's where this came from.
NitaAnn Jul 2014
I have been unable to cope at night the past couple of weeks. Unable to do anything that resembles healthy.  I am angry and lashing out at everyone I love. The little girl whines and cries; then ****** angry girl lashes out because she cannot take the crying. Then the unfeeling/super independent one screams that she needs NO ONE, and we would all be better off if everyone would just go away! For good!

The torture at night is often unbearable. The little girl cries because it hurts so bad, physically hurts, and it is agonizing and beyond painful. And the terror is real to her and is happening all over again. The apprehension of waiting in the dark, alone and scared...part of her praying he will not come and another part of her wishing he would just hurry up and get it over with so she can go to sleep and escape. Why prolong the inevitable. It is going to happen, so just get it over with! Just do it already!

                                       What does that mean?
  Does that mean she is bad because she was wishing he would do it?
                        Does that mean she wanted him to do it?

And now she is crying. We all hear her. She is scared. Get it over with already! Just do it! It is going to happen so just do it now! She will not stop until someone hurts her. Because that is how it has always been. She cannot fall asleep until it is 'over with'.

So ****** angry girl hates everyone because for awhile she felt safe, and the little girl was safe and promises were made that nobody would hurt her anymore. So why is she hurting now? Nobody can keep her safe anymore. And she does let him hurt her. After promises were made and the little girl believed. Nobody keeps their promises.

I try to tell myself it will be okay. I try to rationalize all the different feelings. I try to get all of these girls to work together as a team, rather than the constant fighting and struggling. But I am not currently strong enough.

                 I am as far from okay as the Earth is from the Sun.
Why does everybody lie? I do not understand. Maybe it is because they think the little girl is bad too. She wanted him to do it. She wished he would do it. She deserved what she got.

I am waiting for someone to tell me that I can let myself feel helpless, vulnerable and that they will not hurt me or let others hurt me.
s Jun 2014
you were like my favorite sweater
I couldn't help but pull
at all your loose threads
so i could watch you unravel
stitch by stitch

now i'm left wishing that i had learned how to sew

— The End —