Dripping black
A sea of thorns,
Or a sea of thrones?
I wasn't sure

Seated heads
That glistened gold
With blood
Of sacrifice impure

A Shadow leapt
To take its place
Behind a Silhouette
Obscure

A battle scene;
I knew at once
Which side
I would be fighting for

Clash of sword,
Screech of steel;
Thick ran the blood
Of fallen man

Then all at once,
An empty field;
I stood alone
With sword in hand

The earth took shape
A Thing appeared
The Silhouette
Formed from the sand

The Shadow leapt
To take its place
And cast its spell
Over the land

I raised my sword;
Three times I swung,
And at last blow,
The Shadow fled

The Silhouette
Remained in place,
But now
His sand was burning red

A Mighty Voice cried,
"It is done!"
The Silhouette
At once fell dead

Then all around
Rose from the ground
Each fallen man,
Jeweled crown on head

     The Mighty Voice
     Spoke once again:
     "Well done, beloved one,"
     Said He

     Into His arms
     He drew me, tight
     And we were wed
     For eternity

     A feast was held
     In angel courts
     We rejoiced
     In our final matrimony

     He clothed me
     In the brightest white;
     Evermore
     I am deeply, truly free

Just who am I as a person
well let's see
I'm random and awkward
and more than slightly crazy
I have messy hair
and I'm kind of sarcastic
I don't know if life is real
or if I am fantastic
I'm a massive ******
believe me I'm not joking
the dark still scares me
and I'm little bit heartbroken
I can be rude
because I'm hardly polite
things like birds and moths they scare me
but only when they take flight
I have a strange sense of humor
and I love the idea of magic
but I know it can't exist in this world
which I guess is kind of tragic
I write about
what I care about
so why am I writing about myself
I'll let you know when I figure it out
unless I forget...

Lingering thoughts in heart deep
A burning light  dreams doth keep
dreams a call of destiny
a longing of eternity

Stupid white girl.
We are not allowed to do anything.
We're prim and proper, white girls.
We are not allowed to fight back.
Put us in our place, white girls.
We are not allowed real work.
We still want our twenty three cents back.

The child of fair skin and blue eyes.
But with all my female privilege,
Came a nasty stamp on my body.
Like a watermark.
FEMALE.
I have heard that when a woman looks in the mirror, she sees a woman.
But when a man looks in the mirror, he sees a human.

Even with that watermark, our pale skin is used as a canvas.
And everyone else has been handed the tools to color in our curves.
Covering us in blue and black and purple and red.
Redrawing our minds so they cannot process the discrimination,
Painting over our tears so our feelings can be buried,
Manufacturing open legs when you want them,
Closed when you don't.
Erasing the lips we use to speak out,
Erasing the eyes we use to see all of this.

You think just because you held the brush,
Just because you created this monstrosity of a "masterpiece"
You get to claim ownership of this piece of artwork
That you blatantly disregard
Is my BODY.

The "fe" you tack onto "male"
Does not stand for Free Entry.
The "wo" you tack onto "man"
Does not stand for Wipe Out.

Women are barely able hold a pencil.
I was lucky to hold one long enough to draw myself
A conscience, a backbone, legs to stand on, and a mind.
We were only taught how to use the back end of that pencil
To erase our mouth and keep the secrets.
But these days the secrets are keeping themselves.

I will not be put in a glass case
You will not charge admission
To have people come and analyze me.
Buy me.
Give me value.
Categorize me.
Preserve me the way you created.

You are no artists.
You are vandals.

Your childish lies have nothing of a true meaning
because you never saw what truly went on inside my mind.
The cogs were turning, but the wheels got stuck in the muck
that you had left behind when you decided that it was time to bid me adieu.
That child inside me broke
Like the Bay Lake dam that came crashing and tumbling down,
the waters swirling into the ever after.
Leaving me behind, alone, with the lonely company of the silt and the sand.
And then, I wept.

Just like the past we wither away
All caught up in a world of grey
We don’t know why we’re here but we keep going on
...
Something around us is happening
The sand is counting itself
Hourglasses are frozen under the illusion of time
Poetry isn’t taught but we think it has to rhyme
All it boils down to is the conception of lines
On paper, creating shapes from thoughts
Abstract ideas, perceptions being altered;
In front of the altar
Everything we say can be turned into something else
If it's not happening to you it's happening to somebody else
Words on paper to stay true to ourself
Can burst into flames if you over think
Concise, precise, simple, plain
If you don’t go by these guidelines, expect to be put to shame
We aren’t all different but we aren’t all the same
To expect nothing is the hardest game

I don't know any other languages
Besides  the  one  of
                                        my
                                                    heart

I  hope  that  is
             enough.

I want to show you the corners of the world.

If I'm going to hell at least I'll meet the devil with a smiling face.
I'm not ashamed, disgraced nor will I try to plead my case.
I'll embrace my throne of fire and brimstone with the grace.
The cyclone of living mistakes I'll be shown will encase my soul.

Truth be told, I look forward to the torture.
My hands being torn asunder for the hearts I've plundered.
My tongue should get cut out because it's really a butcher.
My mind will lose its complexity because, really, that's the best of me
And I'll be babbling like the people on reality T.v.

A piece of me will be taken violently
and slowly I'll lose my serenity
Until I'm helplessly watching my insanity
destroy the lives of those I hold dearly
But don't pity me, I walked down this path willingly.

I find solace in accepting the malice.
It's sort of like walking through a dark forest;
at least I know there's darkness.
At least I know I'm hopeless
At least I know I'm honest
The silence of my screaming soul will leave Satan astonished.