S tronger than myself,
You chain me to your wrist and
Narrow my vision
Until all I see is your sadistic face through the tunnel and
Those malicious brown eyes
Above thin, chapped, upturned lips.

T ainting my face, you do,
Painting with tears of both
Joy from your eyes and
The frustrated loss of hope that claims to be mine,
Which I proceed to rub with a scalding cloth
Until raw, I become
So I can claim to be blonde when people question if they saw and
Make a narrow escape from shame.

R un, I cannot; and
However cunning I may be,
You will still be on my tail,
Nose to the ground and posterior in the air,
Gaining speed at an unnerving pace,
Until my skinny knees clatter and
I violently shake,
Vomiting on myself,
Either from exhaustion or fear,
However, the later holds more ground.

E ven my breath becomes yours and
My dreams are at your mercy.
Consider my plea,
Lucky are thee to have me beg,
Thrown to the ground where dirt may stain my face,
An honor rarely reserved for anyone, but
You hold over me all I wish to have.

S neaking past all my guards
In elaborate disguises,
Thrown around in white and
Handed out with smiles,
I run like a fool into you,
Wrapping my arms in a tight embrace,
Greeting you like a friend who hides a knife.

S uffocating under your pressure,
I find myself screaming out.
In the darkest corner, I wish to hide,
Buried in words that cannot hurt,
Contrary to your bitter whispers and
Pestering bites.
Like a wound you fester
Deep beneath my skin.
Yes, I cannot take it.
Under your pressure,
I make myself mute.

By the light of the moon,
I will feel better.
When the clouds give way to its red, crescent shape
I shall no longer feel alone.
My pain is not so foreign,
Instead, it has been replaced with something familiar.

Thousand's litter my body,
Appearing with each new cycle of despair,
To be captured by a photographer,
Forever to scar my once perfect skin.
Now I can cry for something new.
These tears are for a pain that makes sense.

He told me he liked to tell stories and
Create things,
All while I sat at his feet,
Watching grey ashes from his Agio cigar
Land on his worn, steel-toed boots.
Condensation left a permanent ring around the handmade side table,
Having dripped off his always-present glass of Scotch.
'I used to enjoy olives, too,'
He had said,
Plucking two or three of them out of his drink.
He spoke that way,
Out of turn and in riddles.
Mother said he came back from Vietnam talking like that.
He also brought with him a scowl and limp in his left leg,
And on occasion he would lose feeling in that foot.

'I used to enjoy creating things,'
He always said,
As if those few words could bring back the past.

I can feel myself fading into the shadows.
Fingers claw at my shoulders,
Dragging me in deeper to an empty void.
I've been there before.
I've seen nothing,
Heard nothing,
Felt nothing all once before.

It starts with the shadows that cover your eyes.
You don't see much but the outline of your bed.
Waking up is a challenge,
Falling asleep is even harder.
And now…now I feel nothing.

I tear at the claws halfheartedly.
I'm scared to go back,
But I know I've already lost the fight.
I need something to stop this before it gets worse.
I need someone to hear the words I cannot say.
I need to be awakened,
Rescued.

As the sun came up,
I cried for hours.
I gazed up at the sky hoping for a glimpse
Of the stars that sheltered me during the night.
I fashioned a boat out of a hickory spoon
And sailed the seas of melting ice.
I thought that if I were to be a sailor
And search the sky for the North Star as all sea-goers do
That I would find my comfort blinking, leading the way.
But atlas, the sun was too bright.
I closed my eyes and only hoped I'd guess right and sailed on in hopes to find
The stars that used to guide me.

As word of my peril reached those of the sky
Something in their heart opened up and the winged beasts flew,
Desperate to play the role of hero.  
Me, lost in my longing for a sight of a star, was at a lost for fear.
I grabbed hold of a dragon's foot as he flew across the valley,
Over the mountains,
And through the snow to fulfill a prophecy that would print his name in gold.
Wings folded back, he flew into the sky and through the fluff of fairies.
We were high enough to touch the beard of God,
But still the stars were hiding from me,
Playing a game I had no desire to play.    

And yet, as night falls upon the land,
The stars so close yet so far away,
I realize what a fool I am.
As I turn away to hide my blush,
I realize the stars had never left.
If I wanted to see them again all I had to do,
Was look into your light blue eyes.

Shattered glass on the floor.
Broken dreams splattered against the wall.

Many can't see all their words touch.
Sometimes they heal,
Often they shatter at the ears.

Bits of papper scattered upon the bed.
Tortured words stain the sheets.

Tread lightly, speak softer.
Each words a gift,
And a curse

They put red tape over lifes speaker.
All that is real is now lost.
They try to supress you,
Replace all you are with lies.
They want to make you all one being.
They fear the rise of a greater power.
They fear freedom and individuality fore it is the birthplace for rebellion.
The brainchild of longevity.

They hollow out your mind,
Make you numb inside.
So raise your voice,
Burn the tape.
Life is calling,
Shout out in reply!