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4.4k · Aug 2021
on taking power back
lionness Aug 2021
i.
if i could have back
everything you took from me
i wouldn't want it.

ii.
tiger's body
lays lifeless
beneath
trodden earth
with the
rest of them.
withered and
forgotten.

the silly child
within me
who thought
you could
revive him-
willing to
believe
anything.

iii.
you did all
you could to
sink your teeth
into my
rotting skull,
to brand your
fingertips
on my skin.

iv.
you are poisonous
to all you touch,
your hands rough
with abuse,
tongue laced
with venom-
every word
another lie.

v.
i would rather die than carry your child.

vi.
there are now
no living ties
to my old life.
i am not alone-
i am free.

vii.
my new love
holds my heart
with utmost
gentleness-
hands as delicate
as rain.
he untangles
my mind
strokes my hair
cooks me breakfast
wipes my tears

viii.
the little girl
who you spit on
lied to
beat
*****
silenced-
she dances in the kitchen
jumps on the bed
paints a picture
of a life
unknown.
3.4k · Oct 2018
8.3.2018
lionness Oct 2018
i.
this life has been led
in a hundred different directions
by a hundred different shepards
but you
were able to show
a lamb
how to walk
like a lion.

ii.
how sweet power tasted.

iii.
the night that i met you,
after a lifetime
of running from
darkness,
you said
"sweet child,
rest.
take your shoes off.
stay a while."
i let out a long sigh
of relief, my legs
tired, eyes blurry from
sleeplessness, judgement
clouded, i mistook you
for light, i stayed
by your side until
you took the last lick
of me i had left,
stole the sun from the sky,
stomped out the last
burning ember that remained
from what was once a forest fire

i left with nothing

footprints in
debris and ash

absence
where life once was
2.6k · Oct 2018
2.14.2017 / word salad
lionness Oct 2018
punk music playing in the basement
heavy bass vibrating the walls
bacardi in a coffee mug
******* on a tiny mirror
hands on my thighs, *******
the rush sets
hands in my hair
eyes rolling back
he ***** on my neck
i light a cigarette

"my room."
he pulls my strings like
a marionette.
i know this
exchange of goods
very well.
i take another
bump,
eyes widening,
i can finally bear to
see the world.

he eats my ***** and
i feel N O T H I N G.
i gag on his **** and cry.
cheers and chants outside the bedroom door
in perfect rhythm
with the bass
and the headboard
against the wall.
his **** hurts,
my whole body
a wound.

i think about
a distant city
skyscrapers towering
above me like
mountaintops,
somewhere under
lights and stars
where i am happy
to be alive,
anywhere
but here,
this place
where death lives
and waits to catch
it's prey.

he moans
thrusts
shivers
it's over
i wipe mascara tears
take another bump
take another swig
i light another cigarette

he leaves the room
without a word
i follow
two steps behind him
covered in bruises
hickies
marked used
marked invaluable
a group of men
shout names at me
i block it out,
i am not ashamed
anymore.

this body
was meant for this
this body
doesnt matter
this body
is for getting what
i want
this body
is tired
and sore.
2.3k · Oct 2018
R.I.P.
lionness Oct 2018
when you took my
childhood away,
i swallowed my voice,
suppressed every tear,
forced myself to adapt,
grew fond of the suffering-
how far into my mind
i would sink when
your fingertips were on
my skin.

you stripped me of all identity
split me into two halves of a person-
living and surviving.

you remolded me into
your perfect creation.

gave me a purpose
with a name,
"babydoll."

when i was twelve
you left this earth
with no explanation.

took away your own heartbeat,
took away my only witness.

what was i to do
with the monster
you created,
other than live
the life
you created it
for?

and i will carry these secrets
to my grave,
and give them back to you
in the afterlife.
2.2k · Dec 2013
post-seizure activity
lionness Dec 2013
lost innocence,
shattered porcelain,
i was slipping in to something
a little more raw,
a soul-broken baby doll.

i cried so many tears
runny paint,
dead eyes.
i pulled the laces,
cut the ties,
and i started running.

i started running and
i ran back in to you.
2.2k · Aug 2021
3/17/2019
lionness Aug 2021
wrists cry
hemaglobin tears
washed away by
shower steam
and daydream fears

your knife-wielding hands
clenched to the bone

my roar now dwindled
to a gentle hum

your selective deafness
my self-inflicted muteness
our perpetual daze

i wanted you to hear me so
i screamed my voice away
1.7k · Oct 2018
fling
lionness Oct 2018
your hair like a cloud
your body like a baptism
you kissed my feet
like i was holy
our lives all tangled
blessed with newness
and beauty

you were
my fall from grace
my little reverie
come to life

our days
filled with smoke
our nights
filled with sleeplessness
together, lost in the thrills
the little green pills and
hundred dollar bills
together, lost in each other
all sweat and breath and love and skin
the sun fell out
the day we let the darkness in

our sweetest fragileness
our hearts made from silk
our home a secret that
brokenness built.
1.3k · Dec 2015
forest children
lionness Dec 2015
oh, how
we have
grown.

we have left
that lifestyle of
hair in our faces
and scarred skin
worn like a
battleshield.
we have quit
cowering beneath
it all. we have
escaped the smell
of hospital beds and
the taste of pills
dissolving
under our tongues.

we have grown,
and although we are
a little grayer, a little
less alive,
we made it out of those
years, and that is
all that matters to
me.

come what may,
so long as the mountains
are carrying us.
1.2k · Oct 2018
10.31.2017
lionness Oct 2018
the veil between
this life and the next
has gotten
thinner

my body is
a graveyard,
i am digging
for bones

i reach into
the back of
my throat,
trying to find
a voice somewhere
instead
i pull out the food
from my stomach,
because full
feels *****

i don't crave anything.

i crave emptiness,
vacancy

blissful silence in a world
that's so cold to me.
1.1k · Dec 2015
11 pm paradox
lionness Dec 2015
(smoke barrelled down
the valley and across
the lake, visible
only through luminous
moondust

i felt
security

i saw that
even the darkness
was shrouded in
light)
967 · Sep 2017
red
lionness Sep 2017
red
you walk
the earth
so gracefully
it is almost
as if you are
an extension
of it.

every move
you make is
so rythmic.
every step,
every breath,
every heartbeat.

you know
how to entice
the mind and
the body,
like an art
you have down
to a science,
like a means
of survival.

you slip on
heels and stand
tall, shoulders back,
chin up, like a soldier,

you wear
winged eyeliner
like war paint.

you exist
in complete
fearlessness.

you know
yourself as
an unstoppable
force.

you know
that you own
the world when
you dance.
937 · Aug 2021
finally leaving
lionness Aug 2021
will the resentment
ever die?

will i carry our lovechild
dead in my womb
for all of eternity?

will we sit in this
dusty red room,
naked and wet with sin,
childish wonder and ache
until the end of time?

is your love the crutch that
carries my broken limbs?

are my memories of us
enough to erase
the scars off my skin?

do i love you? or do
i love the little girl
who died next to you?
the innocence stripped
from the outside in

you, forever damp
with my seven-year-old tears
you, the only living tie
to the lost, unearthed years,
you, the last remainder of
what could have been

me, afraid to forget
afraid to start
again
925 · Jun 2013
how to measure beauty
lionness Jun 2013
you learned
from a young age
that beauty
is measured
in three digit numbers.

my dear,
let me teach you
how to unlearn.

let me teach you
how to measure beauty in
scattered
strawberry blonde freckles.
in vibratos and
in beautifully spoken words.
in tears of laughter and
in moments of bravery.

let me teach you
that your two digits
are more than good enough,
and that your light shines
as bright as the moon

my dear,
i promise
on everything i have
that i love all 96 pounds of you.
839 · Jun 2013
chasing the sun
lionness Jun 2013
As you lay back on the forest floor
You are graced
By a dim light
That glows through your blonde hairs,
Like a halo all around you.

You are an angel to me.

When you exhale,
A trail of smoke rises from your cracked lips
And dances through the trees,
Celebrating it's freedom
From your lungs.

You watch it fade out,
It's bittersweet scent
Still clinging to the air.

This
this isn't a sin.

This is heaven itself.

I find purpose
In the way your chest
Rises slower than it falls
And I find peace
Halfway past this moment and
An arms-length from the sun.
790 · Aug 2017
checking out
lionness Aug 2017
my body is
so used to
telling these
lies in hopes
of finding
safety
sooner
than later.

so used
to answering
the unspoken
question.

my legs
shaking,
*******
swelling,
blood,
rushing.
pulse,
throbbing.

my voice is
used to
there never
being the
option of,
“no,
i don’t
want this.”

it is hidden
so deeply
away
that even
when i
am with a
lover,  one
who values
my words,
one who
honors my
needs,
i still
can not
find it
inside of
me in time
to stop you.

no,
i do
not want
this.

but this
time
i do
not cry
silenty
in the
darkness
of your
bedroom.

this time
i allow
myself
to become
numb.

nothing
but stale
breath
and dead
nerve
endings.

the space
between my
legs, becoming
incresingly
foreign to
me, becoming
more and more
void of
sensation
more and more
void of
arousal.

vision,
blurring.
pulse,
slowing.


it feels
as though
i have wilted
and withered
away.

i am not
here
anymore.

my mind is
standing barefoot
on the shoreline
of the northern
atlantic ocean.

the tide is
kissing my feet
before scurrying
away, only to
come back and
kiss my feet
again.

i look
for seashells
and colorful
stones.

i don’t need
my voice or
my body, here.

i only need the
sounds of
waves
crashing and
birds calling
to one
another,
all so vividly-
all so
beautifully
and intricately
designed,
all of my own
creation.

tomorrow morning
i will wake up
with wounds in my
chest the size
of my silence,
but for tonight
i am closing
my eyes
to it all.

for tonight,
i am becoming
the sea.
786 · Oct 2018
1.13.18
lionness Oct 2018
you see a child
when you see me,
doing what i have
always known
will keep me
fed and cared
for and alive
and i giggle and
i cry and i show
my skin to men
who will pull
puppet strings in
my life

and i'm nothing but
a body so i don't
have a right to be tired
but i am tired, i am ******* tired
i am dying to breathe
in a world that's
knocked the wind out of me
and i am dying to see
in a world that's
kept me blind
and i'm dying to find
a person who will see
me for my depth and for
my art and not for
a good time.

this skin is not yours anymore
it is mine
and i'm not a child anymore
i'm grown
and this body that was once
for anybody
is mine and mine alone.
728 · Jul 2013
dear mia,
lionness Jul 2013
i
found faith
in the sun
in muddy waters, and
in drinking southern
comfort with
you
726 · Aug 2013
waking up
lionness Aug 2013
my heartbeat plays the cello
a deep, slow, somber song
echoing tragic reality
in to my empty being,
it sings,
"still alive, still alive."
i am longing for the final note,
for my strings are wearing thin and
i am far too hollow.
657 · Aug 2021
9/28/19
lionness Aug 2021
i.
almost human, not quite
the monstrosity that sorrow birthed
the captive of this mind

ii.
you broke down walls and
erased lined
clipped my wings and
bound my feet-
no choice in self but
this identity you gave to me
unable to exist alone
in this cathedral mind,
this styrofoam body

there was one and then there was two
they say
before blood touches the air it runs blue
and i am still running every day-
sometimes away,
sometimes towards you.
lionness Dec 2015
i awake blanketed by the morning sun and
the celestial frost that lingers on from
the night. the sound of laughter jolts me.

i watch the couple walk leisurely along
the side of the traintracks. "Hi!" the
woman says behind stale eyes and
wispy blonde curls. she stiffles her
laughter until it bellows out like
a warrior cry.

i can hear the harshness
in the words she speaks of me to
her lover, they grow more distant
as they escape my view.

i can smell the sweat of the lost
souls who found themselves here
before me.


i can taste the saltiness of the tears
that slide down the contours of my
face; an emotionless, knee-****
reaction.

however, i feel
nothing. there
is no despair
left in me. no
more hatred.
not even
sadness.

i feel only
the bitter
cold of the
concrete bridge
beneath
the weight
of my resting
body.

i feel only
the hunger
that aches
in the core
of my being.

i feel only
the rattling
of the train cars
passing , only
the rumbling of
the morning traffic
on the highway above
all of which
are lulling me back
to sleep
573 · May 2017
untitled ii
lionness May 2017
i am
a single
atom
carrying
the weight
of the
universe

the cabin
pressure
is becoming
too much

what is
healing
if it feels
like this?

every night
the moon
weeps for
me, and
every morning
the sun prays,
"please,
god,
don't forget
about your
children"
555 · Dec 2015
perpetual one
lionness Dec 2015
you have her
youth in your
clammy, divisive palms.
you have her
childlike innocence
and her bedtime stories
and her goodnight kisses.

isnt it only fair
that you should also
hold, so dearly, every
scar you placed on her
silken skin and
arythmic heart?

right now
she is dancing
fireside, so freely,
tasting the last embers of
stale whiskey
and always, always the absence you.

in the morning her veins
will break free and bleed
you away.

she holds nothing but
the shattered remains
550 · Oct 2018
fast life
lionness Oct 2018
in the neon lights
in the damp city smog
on a cold december midnight
watching snowflakes dissolve
on our jacket sleeves

we wore a glow of newness
we were the first of our kind
adam and eve
god's finest creation
lost in our paradise
eating forbidden fruits
drunk on sin and wonder

                              "this can't end well.
                               we do it nonetheless."
523 · Jun 2013
-
lionness Jun 2013
-
Please,
Listen,
You are not broken.
This  world,
This pain,
It 'll work
Itself  out.
You gotta
Trust me.
One day
You will
Be
Un
De
Rs
To
**Od
505 · Dec 2015
early morning fog
lionness Dec 2015
are you afraid of the beast within you?
does he shamefully bow
his head in the light of
day? does he slip through the
cracks of the night?
i ask you, quietly,
if he is what lingers beneath
the glassy eyes,
the breath stale with liquor,
the surface conversations, or
the collection of bad choices
you keep in a bedside drawer,
you say, "yes, baby
all of the above."

i ask you for the beast's name,
you whisper
softly
longingly
'mama"
504 · Aug 2017
untitled vi
lionness Aug 2017
i forged this
identity through
tear soaked
pillowcases and
blood stained
mattresses,
through
days when god
never showed
herself.
i found myself
in places where
love and heartbreak
walk hand in hand.

this one face
is all
i have.

it is inadequate
to you.

you and your
many faces, all
so polished, all
so believeable.

you line them up
on your dresser
at night, beside
meaningless
objects that
bring you
comfort.

you think i am
the weak one.

you accepted
whatever identity
was handed to you.

you are forceless-
a marionette doll,
they will all
pull the strings
and watch you
dance.

you are
lifeless.

you
laid down
and you
died.
498 · Oct 2016
the dance
lionness Oct 2016
how easily i gave all
of me to
this soulless dance.
years of passion and ballroom lessons
to be a shadow
puppet, a
wind up doll
in line with your
every movement
alligned to your
whim

i don't know where
the music's gone.


i want to feel my body.
i want to feel the rain.
477 · Nov 2018
Untitled
lionness Nov 2018
he folded love into
tiny envelopes,
gave me a wet
kiss on the cheek,
left fingerprints on
my gravestone,
took everything i had
from me

left to spend the winter
with animated corpses
my skin balmy from
their heat
my hands clammy from
the snow
my days consumed with
lights and warm bodies
in this place where
fallen angels
go
455 · Nov 2013
glorification
lionness Nov 2013
(every pulse is a symphony
that echoes throughout
the vaulted ceilings of my skin.
with every
beat of the rythm
warmth settles in to
my empty pores

this
here
is all i need.

play me a song.

sing me to sleep.)
420 · Dec 2015
listen
lionness Dec 2015
listen, travelling soul
our spirit guides stumpled upon
us with their ideas of
a twisted serendipity
the day that they
watched you enter
my life. the wind roared the words of a sacred knowledge. the rain
lept from the sky
with a passion unmatched
by a nun in prayer or
a blossoming rose hip after the frost, or the
child's undying
curiosity.

i asked a lot of
questions and the
answers tasted like
moonlight tinged by the
unmistakable bitterness of
darkness and unknown.

time froze before it ran out.

listen, familiar soul

i send you silently
every unspoken question-
they cling to the shadows
of the streetlamps and
the soundwaves of the
night.

i will wait and hope you
return to me singing and strumming your broken chords, so
together we can dance to the rythm of unspoken answers and the sounds of
the storm.
405 · Sep 2017
homebound
lionness Sep 2017
moonlights rests in the
knots of your spine.

a silent type of
magic,
you are.

you shed your skin,
your scars, your stories
handing them over
to the lifeless,
prosaic masses
that have watched your
every move for
twenty long years.
you say to them,
"here,
you can have this,
i don't want it
anymore."
.
you grow wings where
wounds once lived,

they cut audibly through
the air as you take flight.

eyes all speckled
with latent constellations.

homebound,
you are.
312 · Jan 2019
11/15
lionness Jan 2019
i spent nine years
tuning out
quiet lullabies

three years
burning your fingertips
off my skin

nine years reclaiming
this body
this soul
within

wanting to be clean
untouched, unseen

a lifetime of washing away sin
277 · Oct 2016
el nino
lionness Oct 2016
unanswered questions cling to
unspoken memories, as we
tiptoe through the
garden rows where
we'll reap and sow our
wasted time.

today the snow falls in
silent terror.

there are no beams
of sunlight, no
trembling droplets
of morning dew, no
blossoming roses
here.

i taste your absence in
smoke and daydream fears.
274 · Oct 2016
lush
lionness Oct 2016
i am blind
i am swimming
in an unchanging blue.

i am lead
by a luminosity
as dedicated and
unwavering as
god, Herself

i'm indifferent
the pain exists ambiguously
it's silent ferocity
carries me further and further
from the answer

i've already forgotten the question
269 · Oct 2016
blood for blood
lionness Oct 2016
it's been a thousand hurricanes and
two thousand rainbows and
i am breathing

i've been to the ends
of the earth with you.

i spent years on my knees
crawling to kiss your
feet.

you held up the sun
until you swallowed it
whole, my desperation in
your talons

i can not placate to these
storms, anymore

i'm sorry

i found another
way to live
263 · May 2017
nostalgache
lionness May 2017
bring me back to
pulps of milkweed
floating in the
wind

bring me back to
the night we all  
took shelter in the barn.
the storm that shook
god off his feet.
the laughter we shared.

these tender
memories,
are tinged with
palpable heartache
and nostalgia.

i crave
the unspoken
synchronicities
of us all.
254 · Oct 2018
Untitled
lionness Oct 2018
the air is empty and breathless
i walk this earth without intention
my mind deserted, cold, distant
my heart filled with death
where life once lived

i do not stop to smell the roses anymore.

i do not feel the sun on my skin.

my days illustrated by lovelessness
my nights warm with sin
246 · Oct 2018
9.23.2018
lionness Oct 2018
fear has kept
it's cold hands
over my mouth

i've seen seven
little flames
snuffed out

before they could grow
enough to burn the forest
down

i screamed for help
through metaphors but
you never heard a sound

i ran faster than
my feet could hit the ground

i looked for a reason
for all of this
and blood was all i found
237 · Jan 2019
Untitled
lionness Jan 2019
i wake up,
cough up the poison i swallowed
trying to ****
the piece of you that
lives in me.

the flavor of your breath
still fresh on my tongue,
after seven years,
the saltiness of your sweat,
the cool metallic taste of
your blood.

i remember it all.

i want to forget.

i want to shed this skin
handwash these stains you left
on my soul
with warm water
and sweet smelling soaps.

kick down the door
of this home you built
in my mind
and burn it to the ground.


this is mine
you can not stay here,
anymore.
236 · Oct 2016
sisters of mercy
lionness Oct 2016
when daylight breaks, it shatters
and when night falls, i'm empty
the love, madness, passion
i give to the  stars as they
laugh wildly and say
"we'll see you again at
dawn. be broken,
be dead, or
be gone."
236 · Aug 2017
untitled v
lionness Aug 2017
my feet,
tired from
running away.

my *******, my hips
tired from bouncing,
tired from creating the
intimate friction needed
to sustain their worth.

my hands,
tired from weaving
broken scenes into
a tragic identity,
tired from holding up the sky.

my heart,
tired from seeking love
in neighborhoods where
darkness lives
234 · Aug 2017
to mom
lionness Aug 2017
you,
mother,
the one who
removed me
forcedly
from my
body, my
only home

you,
mother,
the one who kept
me in your pocket,
too small to
scream, too
small to
remember clearly

you,
mother,
the one who
stole my
voice away,
held it in your
clammy palms,
kept it as a
keepsake memory
of your
little girl,
next to good
report cards and
photo albums.

is this
what you thought
love was?

passing down
scar tissue
as if it were
a treasured
family
heirloom?

creating childhood
with your left hand,
to steal it away
with your right?

you,
mother,
the wound
that birthed
every wound
thereafter,
i will leave you
with this,
only this.

i survived
you

i survived all
that you created
and destroyed.

i can now
survive
anything.
225 · Aug 2021
2/24/2020
lionness Aug 2021
he is new
eyes filled with sunbeams
sweet radiant soul

he is pure
holy water in my wounds
he kisses me clean

" you dont have to talk about it "

he knows me
when i say no words
223 · Aug 2017
self love
lionness Aug 2017
i will make art
for myself.

i won't
stuff it in
my glovebox
and leave it to
gather dust,
forgotten.

i will frame it
put it on the mantle,
i will think of myself
every time i walk
past it.

i will pick myself
a bouquet
of wildflowers

i will not
shove them in a
drawer, deprived
of light,
left to wilt.
i will put them in
a vase on
my windowsill,
i will cut the stems,
change the water
intermittently,
i will admire them
from afar.

i will give myself
the love i gave
so easily to you.
i will nourish
admire
encourage
and nurture
my own spirit.

i will appreciate myself
for it, far more than
you ever appreciated
me
208 · May 2017
xxx
lionness May 2017
***
my body
is my story

for you
i am an
open book
        (you lick your fingers
          and peel each page
          delicately back,
            losing yourself
             in every word
                and line)

you say my name
like a prayer

to feel so deeply
exposed to you,
my love,
is the
greatest high
of them all.
205 · Aug 2021
5/1/2021
lionness Aug 2021
clouded memory
pine needles caught
in her hair, mud in her toes
as fast and as far as
her little feet can take her.

the forest knows her by name-
long since introduced to her tears.

a solace brought by
a familiar violence,
a comfort brought by
the running that
she knows so well,
that she has mastered,
and she will continue to run
until the day she dies.

she craves to stop and catch her breath.

craves to look
at the wildflowers and
listen to the birds.

she does not see the sunrise or sunset.

she only feels the wind
pull her back, she says,
"i must run faster before
they catch up to me."

yet nothing has chased her
in over a decade.
lionness Nov 2018
silence echoes where
music once played

we dance to
nothing at all

lifeless eyes
blinking away tears

hips moving to
an empty rhythm


                           do you remember
                                        when we were young?
193 · May 2017
untitled i
lionness May 2017
i.
you gave me
these moments
of guilt and
bliss and
guilt again.

this is a  bittersweet
surrender.

ii.
i want liberation

i want to escape
your deadly grasp
your lies of freedom
and promises  of
love

iii.
you left me
with nothing but
a sore body and
a maddening
silence

iv.
i beg for
answers when
they are already
there, laid out
before me,
collecting dust.

i beg for the
strength when
it is already
there, standing
beside me,
saying,
"i've been
waiting for you."
187 · Aug 2017
for you
lionness Aug 2017
the dust begins
to settle

the blues fade in
to blacks

the moon casts
her dreamy eyes
far away
from here.

i pull my wounds out
from the inside,
one by one.

i fold them into
paper birds.

i leave them at your
doorstep-
just something
to remember me
by
183 · Sep 2017
untitled vii
lionness Sep 2017
i am something small.

something you wrapped
in old newspaper articles,
packed away in
a cardboard box,
and left behind to
gather dust in storage,
only a few blocks from
your home.

something you
don't necessarily want
to part with, but
don't exactly have room for,
either.

something you kept
trapped here
for far too long.
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