Silence

That’s what you wanted
Just accepted silence
Just desired crying
Just no more defience

So why the **** do you want my voice
The ironic song bird wedged down my throat
You just want to hear your name screamed out
Whimpered out
Begged

I’d say ******* but you’d take it the wrong way
That or it won’t even reach past my new blue gloss

You want me to speak up now? Well you’ll get it, yet don’t blame me if my voice goes hoarse. My eyes bleed tears of forgiveness when looking disgusting and captivating as I screech like a banshee . With snot dribbling down my chin. With split ends visible in my wooden mane. With eyes turned muddy the unplanned forecast for blood thirst and depression

Like how about I talk about those long nights at McDonald, or when you sung lullabies that implanted insomnia, or the icy touch of your frostbitten hands looking for warmth and all you found was me. How about those whispered words of , “ I really like you.” Cuz four words are worth so much more than three. Each held more meaning than the last as if they were your last breath as you plunged inside me with dagger-claws. Yet I loved it, ****** I loved it! I loved being your barbie doll.

But were they even true

Were all the nights we stared at one another with clamped together hands just the darkness in your coal eyes wanting my spark. My bite. Was it just so you could see if I could be yours. Only yours. I left so many scars on you and you to me, and you told me you loved them. Your fingers would trace my stories I engraved upon your temple. But none were proof enough of how you ****** my mind up with yourself. Made me worshiped like a false goddess undeserving of your praise and love and soul and eyes and ******* I’m back your your dead ******* eyes even when you blinked to show you lived.

You knew I never loved anyone before you. Never held hands before you. Never had any lips besides your cracked ones trying to imitate a desert to trick others of nothingness that you’d whisper only to me. Never told a man nor woman that they were my first of everything before you. I was a tiger lily and you a ****. And you took it all away you ******* hypocrite!

You knew before I could even say wait. And I loved you for it, I still fuckning love you for it cuz I am a *****. My heart never beats when you aren’t around. I never needed to speak, you were the source of my puppeteer voice I used when other’s worried about something.

Yet now you want me to tell you lies. Tell you who hurt me

‘You’

Tell you who used me

‘You’
Tell you who ******* broke me down to a sniveling, worthless pile of ash

‘You’

But instead of telling what was reality I played within your almond flavored fantasies and blamed everyone but you. For no, never you.You, you, you, you, you. Rigamortus won’t stop my hands from grabbing your shirt as I slowly sank to the ninth level of hell.

BECAUSE IT WAS YOU GOD ******* ****** MAN
YOU DID THIS TO ME
I WAS AN AURORA SUNSHINE YET YOU ****** ME DRY
TILL ALL THAT WAS LEFT WERE MONOTONE CLOUDS
YOU'RE THE ONE THAT SHOVED YOUR HAND INSIDE ME
AND REPLACED ORGANS WITH STUFFING

YOU DID IT
YOU DID IT
YOU DID IT
YOU DID IT

You're the reason
I slit my throat
******* my vocal cords.
Sewn shut my lips
It's no surprise I was thrown away
Like a broken doll

It's funny you see?
When you're choking you should see the irony
Ain't I the one that needs to hush up

They’re pinned to pages.

Their feelings have flown away
with the last flutter of their wings.

In the index we are all in content.

Filling the pages with our individual faces…

***** we’ve all felt before
make it until the pages fold.

Kissing her in the darkness,
as the binder finds pressure between its hinges.

My larva sits in sacks waiting to be hatched.

A protein batch asks for it’s usual back
and cares so much about when it cracks.

It doesn’t think at all about the beauty that's about to be had
more than the flower it rests it’s legs upon,
or the skin of a fruit in its ripened state,
or now the rigamortus that it stills in its deathened wait…

Wait?

The beauty in what?

The obsessed,
as the butterfly net settles gently on top of another victim.

A classic beige villain cups and cards,
jars,
and pokes holes to breath.

The winged beauty is re-confined
in a place of un-metamorphoses.

Crashing into the walls
like any caged animal would.

Settling on a leaf,
while a female flips free in front of the reflections of light that plays on the atmosphere and condensation.

I clip myself and wash chemicals on my figure,
so I’ll never decay.

Suffer the stage with a name
and play the same pose that impresses without rest.

My cloudy eyes would cry if they could,
but they can't.

And all that I hope for now
is that when my counterpart ends
she’s staple to the page across from me,

so when that book is finally closed
we’ll be face to face
and our soulless remains
can finally embrace.