Not a flinch
Nor a word screamed
But the red stained carpet,
Matches the covered wrist

Blade thinning
Blood thickens
Deep breath and slight sigh

Blunt.
Sharp.
Neither will stop the urge
Nor will the screams for help

Scars heal
Memories dont
Memories wont...

the next time you say
"no one loves me",
remember how its like to have a fever
don't reach the glass of water your throat is thirsting for
close your eyes for a little bit
and see your body for what it is
it is a warzone
and it is fighting to keep you alive
because it loves you
it doesn't know what you are
who you are
what you have done
but with every cut you etch across your skin
as if you are trying to erase your mistake
it heals you as if it is
trying to tell you
you are worth it
you
are
worth it
even if you don't think you are
even if everyone else doesn't think you are

so if you are looking for unconditional love,
reach for that glass of water - clench your thirst
pull that blanket over yourself
sleep knowing that your body loves you, even if you don't love you
tomorrow,
everything will be okay
hold on a little bit.

What if you're not worthless?
What if they are wrong?
What if all you need,
Are the words to your own song?

after Patrick Thompson*

Suppose::I must apologize be,cause--
well, it's allmyfault anyway,

sleepingly dreamingliest the movements
come as per rote per wrote

and (I'm sorry) doesn't quite cover it anymore,

             well, I can see it clearingly you still desire closeness
             I cannot give, it's not enough…

But,,love…however long and far away,
a paper kite the tail is trailing far below

catch me, catch me i'm falling,,,&(I'm sorry)

doesn't quite cover it any,mor,e...

A fatal imbalance occurred
Speech slurred
We are only capable of using small words
And God is the only thing that's pure

A foul stench in the air
But not even Judas could find a care
A paradox bouncing off the snare
Deranged and confused but definitely not aware

Muslims morphed into Hindus
Buddah didn't know what he got himself into
ravaged by the dominated Jews
The star of david was everyone's tattoo

We didn't know what we believed
Atheists were the only one's that could see
They believed in themselves but not very clearly
Religion was the beast and faith was the beauty

Who are you?
Peeking out from behind
Those dark daring eyes
Waiting
     Hoping
          Knowing
Life will soon begin
Something new, different
Away from the dullness
That surrounds you

Who are you?
Behind that face of gold
Your heart pounding
Desires reaching out
Waiting
     Hoping
          Knowing
Something new will overcome
Changing that golden tone
Shedding light on what remains.

Oh, Clock
Do you ever tire of the incessant ticking,
Desiring your busy hands to relax, at least once, from of the endless telling of time?

Oh, Sun
Does it ever cross your mind to feel like quenching your fiery furnace
To relieve your sweat and live discretely among the coolness of the shadows?

Oh, Earth
Do you feel the need to be the imperfect dancer
To cease to spin in exquisite precision and simply stand still in thought ?

Oh, Death
Do you not grow weary of the troubling grief and suffering you force upon us
And consider surrendering your demand, your need for the all-consuming end to the beating of our hearts?

Do you?

Oh what messes we create,
when we are a mess ourselves.
Contented to sit and wait
with our lives upon the shelves.
With shut eyes we wander far
stumbling through the dark.
Wishing on a distant star,
Ignoring what is in our heart.
So why sit idle while time goes by
And look back with wonder, on what was missed
Why not take the joy, and fly
Instead of blinded, with clenched fists?