Sometimes you expect more of someone,
Because you
Would do that much.
And it hurts to realise
That you don’t have:

A rope to grasp,
A wall to lean on.

That you walk on a floor,
Whose tiles unfeelingly dissolve,
Letting you fall into the abyss,
With no rope to grasp.

That the one that haddock your turns to wind,
Letting you lose your balance,
With no wall to lean on.

An emptiness so vast,
Barley contained,
Held within a fist of flesh,
Pulsing with despair.

I've been told
To listen to my heart,
To refrain from logical comparison.
Because when you heart is concerned,
Emotions don't follow the rules.
That is their strengths,
That is their beauty,
That is the danger.

But this heart doesn't know what to feel,
And when it asks the mind,
The mind only tells the heart
Why either of them can't decide.
Buy when the heart can't decide,
It asks the mind,
Lest it hurt,
Till it give up.

My chipped nail polish turns him on
He finds beauty in imperfection
I think I'll show him my surgery scar
To help him get an...

-- when I have the tenderness of a writhing dragon,
he will paint flowers across my throat

as though to remind me that fires are indelicate,
and that I writhe in a prison made of open space.
-- this man will not smother me with his skin
when we sleep.
-- this man will unhinge the door of my mouth,
and kiss out the bullets stuck under my tongue.
                                                                ­               ---
whatever thousandth day I awaken beside this man,
realizing I have become the flowers he painted
across my throat, by braving my throat,

I will, unchaining myself from the draconic worry,
bring him his coffee in bed, with a smile.

There's an aching in my bones for where that feeling they call home used to be but now it's only in my dreams.
My emotions keeps grinding away at my soul, telling me where to go and who to be.
But that's not me and this dream isn't my reality.
As far fetched as my hopes may seem to be, to me they are the reality supressing these nightmares that everyone else calls dreams.

Keep hoping for a new tomorrow to change my ways, but the days drag on, always the same.
Not knowing where the truth lies, disguised as a ride that takes you high enough to never feel it when the lie dies.
Staring pain in the face, wasting days swept under a carpet of disgrace, eyes staring back screaming with disdain.
Forgetting myself more with every breath, failing every test and silently waiting for death.

I am the poetry that breathes words into your mind.
I fill up blank spaces with encouraging lines.
I possess no magic powers to turn back time.

I am the poetry that brings back childhood fears.
I speak the truths you're not sure you wanna hear.
I clarify emotions that were previously unclear.

I am the poetry that digs deep to tear at the soul.
Once I enter you, you can never be whole.
Without the words inside you, you feel so cold.

I am the poetry that tries to hold back time.
Keep the body frozen but activate the mind.
Using line after line to make you all mine.

I am the poetry that flows through your veins.
That proves how much I love you, day after day.
I help keep your sanity, when you think you're going insane.

I am the poetry that floats in front of your eyes.
Always surrounding you, seeing through your every disguise.
I know everything you think, I know all your lies.

I am the poetry until the day you die.

Inspiration strikes a sadness in my mind
Lightening fires of truth so bright I go blind
Wide awake yet dreaming of another time
Another place where things used to be fine
But in the back of my mind, where that inspiration strikes, I feel alive and alone in the sadness that overwhelms me at times, surrounded by the dream floating behind my eyes uncontrollably, bouncing off my mind getting ideas of time and space and distances between two places, satisfaction and depression, a thin line rests between my eyes, like a target, the bullseye is my soul and it's slowly disintegrating with every shot, look and insult fired my direction.
I'm losing control.
And my dreams are gaining ground, taking over and my reality is lost in the background.
My soul can no longer hear a sound.
I think I've died.
I've tried to come back around, telling myself it'll be alright.
But I lied.

This life has become more than I ever wanted it to be and the future looks even more hopeful as far as I can see.

it isn't until you let go
that you notice the blood
dropping from your palms
it isn't until you look down
that you notice how close
you are to the bottom
it isn't until I distanced myself
that I realized you were
slowly killing me