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As I stand before the mountain of confidence called hope, I see a clear path up, not too steep, not too straight, but this path is embodied with rewards to the top.

At the top, there is a magnificent tree made of gold, silver leaves and Copper roots. Hope mountain held a perfect prize awaiting me, a Tree called Faith.
This sight to behold was everything I wanted, everything before me was so clear, but at the bottom where I was, there was a River.

This River was called Shame.
This river was filthy, the water was calm where I was, but looking downstream I could see the rapids of rage, the ripples of conditioning before the raging rapids were inviting.

The dreary stonewalling fortification on the banks allowed no light through, downstream was scary and looked impossible, why would I go that way? why even look?
I looked upstream and saw a blinding light, what could this be? I was so curious, so I waited, a true gentleman always waits.

Two days later the light took shape, as it came closer I could finally see, I could see a lifeboat with a caring nurturing beautiful woman.

As this beautiful woman came closer, I could see the river was being supplied by this woman, I could see she was the source.

The river of Shame was being fed by this woman, this filth in front of me was coming from her, but the beauty was something I've never seen, this beauty had me curious.

This beauty made me forget of the supply to the river.
  What I saw wasn't real all the sudden, what I believed was now real.
She came close enough for my heart to be heard, since she had no heart she was envious, she hated what others admired.

She wanted my wholesome heart, so she used her falsehood love bombing to create one, dreamingly admiring the mountain, we were planning different paths right then.
As I stared at the golden Tree of Faith glowing upon Hope mountain, I didn't notice the river was rising, as the numbing waters were rising it covered my feet, I didn't notice she also took a piece of my heart to claim as her own.

She used toxic gas and light to create a projection that this heart was hers to give back to me.

I didn't know any better so I accepted this ambient abused heart, this unfelt abuse gave me amnesia, this hidden poison of my cognitive dissonance gave her all of me.

Since she had nothing and that's what she craves, I had everything so she wanted to enslave.
I forget about the mountain with the tree even being there. I forgot I was here.

Her lifeboat was awkward, it was shaky,
it has imperfections, it has holes,
   her lifeboat is sinking,
     her heart is missing.
my knightly kind hearted empathy,
   my buffering and nurturing sympathy         pick this beautiful woman up
      I pick this gem up because of her idealization of me.
I can clean this insidious gem because she makes me believe, but through the veil I cannot see.
I throw her over my shoulder to carry all her weight, it's hard to move, hard to breathe, building a new boat was extremely hard, carrying her pain was extremely hard.

Everyone thought it was impossible to do it, my shear will power to commit ****** one foot in front of the other, I just didn't know that going downstream was impossible.

What about the mountain?

I couldn't remember from the amnesia, the dark night blinded my sight of the mountain, the drug in me was you and it consumed, i fell in love with misery and misery loves it's companies.

I stared the snake behind the veil in the eyes, standing tall on her pedastool made of spackle it breaks, I fall onto piercing confusion, I pull out shrapnel's of dissolution, I'm covered in her blood of invalidation.

I'm already floating in the boat with her, this wasn't my plan, this wasn't my reality.
I gaze upon this woman, sun shining behind her, no clouds in the sky.
floating downstream she tells me it's faster, that we'll end up behind the mountain higher.

I'm not worried now, I'm now contempt with shame.
I already forgot reality, I already forgot i'm going downstream, I forgot the searing pain, I forgot what I believe.

I'm relaxed, I'm tired, I'm still happy in love with this spellbound misery.

As we drift slowly through the stonewalls, no light shines through, I ask her for assurance, it's getting dark, I'm getting scared.

That's when the veil comes off, that's when the unnatural beauty grows quiet, that's when my voice screams silently within these stone walls.

This isn't her, this isn't real,
I know there's love I can feel, that was our bond, that was our deal, not to steal.

I fall over board and the water is cold, there's leaches, the debris is so random, the shameful water is moving faster, the all consuming cold confusion, random gaslighting and triangulations moving in around me faster.

I immediately can't bear it. My heart pulsates hard, my mind misfires my flight mode, i cannot intake the overbearingly unowned toxic Shame, her coldness activated my fawn mode, I froze, I start to doze.

luckily she had my leg, luckily she knew excessive admiration CPR, just as my body went limp in the agonizing River of Shame, she pulls me out. luckily she got me just in time, luckily she saved my life.

I awoke away from the stonewalls, it's sunny and safe again, we're together through impossible odds, we built this boat and she saved my life.

The abuse amnesia made me forget, the cognitive dissonance was real, I am not.

The mountain was now farther away, I was worried, I grew fearful, what I wanted looked farther away, that's when everything became gloomy, my goal was no longer there, but she didn't care, she knew where the river went, I believed her, I still do.

The ambient abuse made me anxious, the atmosphere was maddening of fear, it carried anxiety, I couldn't see it, but I was breathing it in.

Her eyes were so incapacitating, her heart disorienting, her soul captivating, she had a better plan, for us to press on and build another boat, to add another life, to believe in her, to not stare at the knife.

We build another boat, were out of the shame waters finally, she's helping me, were soon to be a real family, but the only thing real here was me.

Everything is better on the land, were dry, it's sunny, it's better to feel the nirvanic sand. It's here we bring our new seed, to be sprouted downstream.

I now believe in this new mountain downstream, I don't even remember the mountain I seen, were pressing on downstream past a levy, were now in the River of Grief, we're off to the end of make believe.

This river is really turbulent with rapids of devaluation, the splashes make me irrelevant, the dinigrating actions around make me small, I feel lost and confused, nothing makes sense anymore at all.

At the mouth of the River of Grief it opens up into a valley. She jumped onto a rock of vanity and pushed the tree of disloyalty upon the boat.

This throws me out head first, but luckily I have our seed safe and sound, luckily I learned how to drown.

I turn around falling and see her at the top staring down, she smirked and throws enormously heavy anvils of bereavement to make me fall harder, to keep me down longer.

Evil is real, but only if you believe, I crave the flattery of illusionary love, I still had amnesia, I love misery, the feeling reminds me I can feel, I love my slow death so I say I'll find you, I have the seed, I'll wait for you.

As I fall the thorns of numbing premeditation pierce, the pain is searing, as I fall i'm locked on her, my falsehood of love is still enduring, I don't feel the discard, I ignore the distaste.

I land in a field of hopium still protecting the seed, my amnesia is now worse, I can't remember her smirk, I can't remember the weighted anvils of bereavement, I can't remember the tree of disloyalty, I still can't remember the mountain.

My movement is heavy like concrete, my heart sits down at my feet, my mind is nowhere to be found, my spirit is fading on this ground.

I gather everyone from a nearby village to find her, it's impossible, they can't see her, she never existed, my amnesia was now delusional, the hopium mixed realities, nothing was real, there was nothing I could truly feel because everything was wrong, but I believe misery needs me and I yearned.

I say she's at the top, we have to throw her a rope,
they say it won't reach what isn't there,
I say we need a ladder to throw the rope, they say the ladder isn't safe that high.
  
I say everyone can hold the ladder while I climb perilously to the top, they say it will never work, but since they can see me, since they see a part of me is still real, everyone holds the ladder for me.
      
While I acend with my broken dignity, I acend with a fatigued heart, I acend to find what I believe, no matter how hard I try, I will be taking my destined decent.

The top of the ladder is shaky, I spent forever getting there, it's scary, the heights bring great fear over me, more than I've ever felt, but my knighthood makes me overcome anything.

I suppress, the seed is safe down below, I'm here to impress, I can see her now, only much less.

Her snake skin is peeling, the sun scorched blistering skin shows immense pain, witnessing this releases empathy, the caring knighthood in me naturally wanted to save her again.

So I wrap what's left of my discarded soul upon my broken fatigued heart and I use my trauma bonded mind as bait.

I throw her the rope,
she catches the rope,
I tell her to tie off the rope,
she ties a noose with the rope,
her neck is now wrapped with this rope.

If she falls I can't stop the tightening of the rope, if she falls I already know I'll jump for her and release from her neck this rope.

We jump together and I release the rope around her neck, I see the ground coming fast, but I love this snake, I'll die for this snake because I believe, false beauty inside is all I see.

I grab her and turn her away from the rushing ground, I fell once, I can take the fall again.

She is already hurt, immense pain, she will not feel no more pain, because I'm not hurting for I'm with misery again, I believe I can take all the pain for her, the hopium was numbing everything I consumed.

I awoke to a distressed angel, flawed personality, beautiful nightmare, mirroring the devil, but what I saw was a veil over the snake eyes, what I saw was what I believed before.

What I had wasn't real, who I am is no longer there, for I had ambience amnesia, nothing around me fit, nothing around me was grounded, nothing around me was divine.

The eyes that gazed upon me were captivating, spriling, time froze and only she was moving, the feeling was there, a drug within me, the drug was her and I longed for the misery, I yearned for the pain to remember what was real, I needed the intermittent reinforcement, I wanted my all bets in investment back and I risked a short sale.

We faded into the black, into a new boat, she made this boat, she had plugs in  holes of the boat I couldn't see, I believed it was perfect, I didn't know what awaited was a life long anguish.

I still didn't know what was downstream is impossible, I didn't know this new River of Anguish has piranhas of triangulation, I didn't know the rapids were of oppression, I didn't know the rocks causing these rapids she already put in place, I didn't know it was so black around me in this place, I didn't know my seed would become two, I didn't know I would have to choose.

I didn't know true love was in front of me in my hands and not behind the veil, I thought it was her, all the villagers knew, but as I drew closer to the snake the darkness only grew and the seeds too.

The feeling of my lingering mortality reverberates, she built me a coffin and chained it to my ankles, with this immense weight, I carry it with me just in case.

We floated very fast down this River of Anguish, everything seemed fine to all others including me, the darkened skies covered the evil, the cold waters made my body numb, the seeds were held up high to be be safe from the tormenting waters.

As I held them up high, I didn't realize she was still holding the schraded butcher knife in the water, I didn't believe she would hurt me, I didn't conceive the possibility that knife I didn't see was there all along for me.

The waters of Anguish smothered me, the triangulating piranhas slowly nibbled on my feet in the water, the rapids of oppression kept me gazing in the water, the rocks of malice in the water tried to tip me over, but my balance was true and the seeds were safe from harm, but I am not safe, I'm dying inside.

I don't know why, but after every agonizing stab from this knife when I'm not looking, it hurts, but the numbing knife only helped me when it was pulled out, it has holes in the knife so she could pull it out without me knowing.

I always turned around and cleaned the knife covered in my blood, I always gave it back to her, but every wipe upon this blade made it grow, and every wipe made the label on the handle more clear.

I find out in the end this knife is called narcissistic rage, the brand of this knife is called gaslighting and my blood is the supply.

I didn't know any of this until it was too late to save myself, my reality wasn't real, my dreams are gone, my nightmare is all consuming and existent, my seeds are still safe, but I am not.

When I start to notice the knife exists, I forgive her, the conditioning made the skies darker, I wipe the blood off and give it back, the knife is now a sword, it's name is discard.

The waters are uneven, the piranhas of triangulation feel like strangulation, my clothes are still soaking wet with anguish, my hair is slimy and covered in Shame, my feet are cold and numb from the grief.

I can't understand why I'm here,
  I can't understand why I'm actually meant to be here.
  
Every turbulence has thrown me down, she pushes me over head first, as I try to lean up to breathe she has her foot on my neck in the cold numbing river, but this river does not affect her, this river is warmer than her, the warmth from anguish pleased her, the piranhas followed her commands to bite, she smirked as the rocks she placed crushed against my head.

She waited until I went limp every time, but she knew idealization CPR, her deceit was without compassion, her rage was without sympathy, but I had severe ambience abuse amnesia, I still couldn't remember the mountain, I am now trauma bonded from the stabs she's counting.

I only saw her veil, her gaze convinced me I placed these rocks here, her gaze made me ignore the stonewalls around me, her pure hatred was covered in false intentions, her illusion was my isolation.

As everything was becoming clearly dangerous, as everything went pitch black, I look back and see the light from the mountain glowing, I see there is something wrong where I'm at, I see the seeds are not growing, I start to see the pain all around me.

Non the wiser, I keep coming back from drowning, I keep falling for misery, I keep wiping my blood off the blade, I keep isolated, but now I feel there is something painfully wrong, the reason abates me but I feel it, it hurts, it's camouflaged by deceit, it's all in my head, my coffin is soon to be my bed.

I look to the shores, there are other villagers worried, they are waving frantically, they're pointing at a waterfall ahead, this waterfall is called Doom, this fall would be death, the sound is raging, the mouth all consuming.

I see the stream to the side that the villagers are pointing to, I see the calm waters awaiting our safety, but the boat will not fit.

Only me and the seeds are real, everything else around me is illusional, the trauma delusional, the possible harm to the seeds was not refutable, my love for misery was unsuitable.

I could see my life was in danger, I could see the stream nearby screaming safety, I knew the seeds needed me, now I can't stop shaking.

Without her knowing what I was doing, I turned my back towards her facing the water, I knew she was going to stab me over and over again until I turned around, I now see the hypnotic eyes behind the veil. Not turning around only enraged her, the blood on the knife was condesating.

  The safety of the stream for my seeds was a new found glory in my exodus.
  
I paddled with my small hands this large weighted boat towards the stream, her knife was venomous, the water was echoless, the air imparted dreadfulness, all of this was dimensionless, all of this was not real, unless I let it be, now I can see, now I can finally flee.

As I came closer to the stream the waterfall grew stronger, the pain larger, the sound louder, I knew we were closer to the end, I knew I needed to jump off with my seeds, but I know the torment will end.

I melted my enduring pain inside with molten lava heartache to mold anew, I compartmentalize because I have to choose.

I had a vision that if I jump, the seeds will be safe, the climb to the mountain can still happen, I knew I was right about how I felt all along, I realized the veil couldn't cover the true self, I now believed In me.

I now know the water air and land were not what she made me believe, I knew I didn't choose this path, I knew I could survive, I know the seeds are going to be safe now. I know because I manifested instead of throwing in the towel.

Once close enough I finally looked at her and smiled I love you, jumping into the river I could feel the bitter cold agonizing tormenting river smash me with bereavement and disillusion by dissociation, I felt the coma of trauma surround, for I am now trauma bound.

I hold my seeds up high, I kept them safe because they don't feel the water, they're starting to sprout already, no more decay.

As I climb out of the frigid waters and still dripping wet, the drops are red, my feeling is coming back, my back is full of knives, I'm scared but I survived.
Knowing the worst is over I look back to her, she is consuming the river because she was the source, everything dark folds in on itself because the light cannot touch here, for this black hole is collapsing in on itself, I cover the seeds to shield them of this exorcist, they're safe here because my love is relentless.

The tormenting pain makes it hard to stand tall, still going through bereavement of a false reality where I lost it all, the answers we're all lost in the waterfall
"" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" ”"" "" "" "”" "" ""
Charlie Chirico Dec 2016
The need to stare through people
is leaving my eyes crossed,
faster than lines on paper.

Left is the desire to scratch
this itch; an exasperating need
to mark one more line.

What sweet intent leads to
discretionary electrical impulse
that grasps the heart tight,
and stonewalls a swallow.
To recall warm beams of light,
with internal engaging delight,
watching nature bend
towards the will of the sun.

               A Push
A Pull

Gravity
displaying its omnipresence.
Invisible forces
envelope our globe.
Dancing in little corners,
from time to time,
as if meant to
find a lone soul.

A private affair.

To stare at,
not through.
A normalcy embellished
as a miracle,
made for you.
Marieta Maglas Jul 2015
(Fargo put the body of Bella in a mantle and took her on his shoulders. He left Chiara, Francesca, Rosa and Pedra ashore and went together with Geraldine, Maya, Carla, Erica and Naimah's son to find a village. The name of Naimah’s son was Surak.)

It looked like a long beach with a rocky shore and a hidden
Cove; they turned right walking along the sandy beach; at the far
End of the beach, they saw a galley, but it was forbidden
To follow the path leading to the shore, ''I'll ask where we are, '' ''

Said Fargo while looking through a telescope, ''What do you see? ''
''There's one man standing on the deck; he's the companion
Of that pirate following us and traveling free.''
''How do you know this? '' ''I worked for him in the devil's canyon.

The flag has a boom skull, '' ''Let's go, '' said Geraldine, ''The pirates
Are coming from this ship, '' said Fargo, ''I must set it on fire.''
While sneaking to that deck, he killed one by one the pilots
And the third sailor; he thought, ’’ Frederick is caught in a snare.’’


Fargo took the little treasure from that ship and those two maps
Showing the place from where the treasure had been taken
And the island where they intended to hide it; perhaps
It was a known place, which was visited and forsaken.


He did not set the ship on fire because he was afraid
That its flames could be seen by the pirates; he did not sink it
'Cause they could dive to the sea's bottom to find the treasure's shade.
To make them think that one of them betrayed was in a fit,


Fargo took one of their boats and returned to the shore.
Then, they continued to go while avoiding the main path.
They stopped walking to look at the seagulls starting to soar.
They entered an old olive grove shining in the daylight bath.


Following their narrow route to the right, they found a fragrant
Grove of tall eucalyptus trees; they saw the shepherds' trail,
Which was cobbled and flanked by stonewalls, '' Our life became vagrant, ''
Said Carla; Erica replied, '' my strength begins to fail.''


'' Look at these flowers of asphodel! They are beautiful, ''
Said Maya; Erica replied, '' these dark cypress trees are
An inviting resting place; '' you must be powerful, ''
Said Fargo, '' because to find a village, we have to go far.''


At the top end of this rocky land, they turned left to enter
A small, agricultural zone that was planted with
Cereals and having some plots of chickpeas in its center.
Some goats were drinking water from a reservoir, ''It's a myth, ''


Said Surak; they drank water together with the goats
And washed their faces; after crossing the road, the saw
The church tower of the village near the plots of oats.
They bought an old stone manor house when the night started to draw.

(Fargo went to find a priest for Bella’s funeral. He came back with a promise for the next day. They started to eat in silence.)

(To be continued…)

Poem by Marieta Maglas
Hannah LePage Aug 2011
As a white, middle class female, history and society have labeled me an oppressor.
And the fact that I have come so far to face is that, by nature,
and by that I mean by the socialized conditioning of my white ancestors, I am.
An oppressor of the people, of the land, of myself.
The history of mainstream culture has deprived me of a connection with nature.
It is this social history that I tire with, that I struggle to accept.
See, but with this wisdom comes freedom,
a freedom to reject the path that society and history has paved for me
and to find my own, to find my own truths.
I am a conserver, and I have found nature to be a conserver too.
Traces of my roots and my life reach further than any town limits or cemetery stonewalls.
You can’t cover my spirit with foundation, eye shadow and lipstick.
It may hide death in my face, but it won’t beautify my spirit.
My soul needs no resting place.
It will continue on to live and breathe in the absence of my body,
which has only been a vessel.
I will not be confined.
I can not be confined, not by religion, not by my race, not by my class.
I will not be put in a box, not in life, and not in death.
This is an excerpt, the last paragraph from a 7 minute monologue I wrote. The main body of the monologue spoke on the subject of cremation and the conservation of the soul.
I fell in love with a boy I knew, could never be mine.
At some point, I thought it was fine.
I didn't want my heart on the line.
For I knew that it was a sign.
What chance did he have of coming inside these walls of mine?

After everything that he has done because of his last "mistake",
how can I allow him to come back into my life?
Her words were enough to finally make him break,
it made him realize that he stabbed my back with a knife.
I gave him my trust, my life...

He wanted to make things right, so.. just this once, I let him try.
As expected, he found me cold and distant.
I wanted to ask him...why?
My feelings at this point, were non-existent.
To what extent, is he willing to go?

As time passed by, he began to tear at my walls.
Was I ready to let him inside...
Inside these stonewalls,
the deeper he went, the more I wanted him outside.
He was close to reaching the wall I no longer allowed anyone inside.

But no matter how hard I tried to make him stop,
he allowed himself inside without any problem.
My world came tumbling into a flop.
The feeling of being numb,
it's gone... Replaced with an actual heart.

My walls were tore down,
I thought my castle would be safe and he would protect me himself.
He did the opposite and let me drown,
a dragon, a problem...manifested itself.
I knew I was on my own.

He was too scared to face it head on,
face these feelings he had going on in his heart.
He was so far gone.
It tore him apart,
and caused him to recreate his own walls.

Disappointed, the girl began to cry.
How was it fair to him to do such a thing?
Leave her to die,
that was probably the best thing for his heart contained no meaning...
No meaning to the relationship they began to grow.

So now she's the one fighting for him,
fighting to tear down the walls he built up.
This was grim,
she was upon the last wall.
A wall similar to hers, the one she did not allow anyone in.

The best way to get rid of this wall was to wait,
because within time, the rock hard wall would sound erode.
This was her sealed fate,
it was too late to go down another road.
She knew where her heart was and she was willing to wait for her chance.

But yet...
There is another part...
No matter how much I tried to deny these feelings,
they're there.
He refuses to have any feelings now because it stings...
There's a pain in my chest that I find hard to bear.
The walls for me are becoming higher and harder than before.
This is dedicated to the boy I liked but, I could not have...not right now at least. I said I was willing to wait for him, but how long would waiting be, and how long would I be able to... I have my doubts but, I really like this guy, I refuse to let him go.

Background info; So, this boy..he was rather interesting. He's pretty cute, like..really really cute, and his personality is what attracted me to him the most. He was dating someone during the time I was talking to him so I knew to keep him at a distance. One day, he wanted to hangout and his overly protective girlfriend messaged me, accusing me of stealing him away from her. From then on, we had problems and he eventually ended up choosing her over me. It hurt, but hey, I moved on from it. A month or two later, he unblocks me and I asked him, "What makes you think you can stroll into my life like the way you did before?" He kept saying he wanted to fix things.. My walls were already so high and I didn't expect anyone to get through. I was dating someone at the time too, but I started questioning the relationship because, I started to gain new feelings for the guy. I ended up going for him instead because, well, with my ex.. I rarely ever saw or talked to him, the lack of communication was real...I know, it's bad but, it's the truth. So as time progressed throughout the summer, he started showing signs of interest which confused me. He told me he was still getting over his last ex, I respected his space. He then found out that his ex was dating someone else...so he finally broke down, I lost him. The chance I could've had with him, lost. His feelings, gone. My feelings, hurt. Everything's back to square one... I told him I'd be willing to wait so that's what I'm going to do. Of course it's going to hurt, but, it would be worth it.
Arcassin B Aug 2016
By Arcassin Burnham


Dar Dar Dark-ness is-fu-tile-to this lit-tle-dream
I have,
hid-den in cre-vices of things-to the-ones I lack,

The past is the past and even in the past seeing what I use
To lack and given up,
Confusion is nothing new to a couple of youngins' cruising
On the country roads in a big truck,
Life is so much more precious than a diamond or a gem in
hopes to shine bright as they were,
We all can not be perfect in a mellow dramatic world full of
Politics and secret purge,

I I I-could be-everything-to all-of your-stonewalls,
you-break-them down-for me-and all-of your-
worries fall.
©ABPoetry2016


http://arcassin.blogspot.com/2016/08/past-fade-by-saray-castillo.html
DH Matthews Feb 2014
Beside me on the table lies a small green stem;
This stem once with it carried a lovely botanical gem.
Outside the window yonder is a city caked in snow;
Such that all is cancelled and I have nowhere to go.
It's funny that this stem of green shucked clean and here laid bare
Gets mention in this rhythmic verse 'bout all that white out there.
For you see, my friends, that stem, to me's a sad reminder
Of a time (and time again) to me, that's so much kinder.
And now, of course, I have a day, no deadlines, dues, or debits
But that stem is what remains of a stash worth several credits.
A tragedy to none but those who also will partake;
To me, a dearth that stonewalls my voracity to bake.
Alas, I open this white page and 'ply my verse unto
Lament for being 'void of green...what has my life come to?
ad lib and delightfully cheeky
Child be whatever you want to be
don't become a lost child like me.

find yourself a fresh new stream
a different sky to draw your dream

walk not the way I strode
set out on a new road

one that's still green
not stained with my sin

retrace not my history
be enslaved not in ancestry

bonded not of our war and greed
our stonewalls of caste and creed

walk not the way we trailed
we missed goals we failed

then lost our way in selfish needs
our hopes buried in overgrown weeds.

Child be whatever you want to be
don't become a lost child like me.
Razors, did you know they show a kind act of love?
Picture me at 18, not taking life or myself seriously enough.
Well not as seriously as some would take razors and love.

See, I discovered one day just horsing around on a carousel ride
of trauma, that we can all chase dreams, but few of us will catch them. I discovered I needed to be careful where I was dreams to.

Careful like I was in love, careful like I was using razors to chisel through the ground until I reach the earth's bones. I also
discovered, rubbing razors and love the wrong was can feel as if you had a brush with death.

See, God got it wrong, love should barricaded by stonewalls instead of hearts and songs. Love is messy, and poetic, and it carries a ratchet razors that I often use.

Understand cuts are messengers too, and they tattletale and dry snitch every change they get, about my anger, my fear, and my secret stash of razors to a world that couldn't possibly understand.
What the hell didn't they get the memo?

That I am looking for someone to feed on and stay full off of.
because I can't love normal, just insane and misunderstood. Someone to understand, this is why I stay quiet barely hear.

I got voice as loud as silence, and in the bedroom I make as much noise as a butterfly. Ironic they call me Navah the Butterfly, because when I speak it's poetic and no safe words.

Just someone else's slit wrist pouring out of me, O Negative premeditated blood drops to what is really wrong with me.
And I confess, I sick and creative. I am something you can't just simply sleep off, so sweet dreams.

and it is going to take more than razor shape words and music that sings to what's between my legs to fix me it's going to take God!
Running from every direction at once just to come and hold me.

And I will tell them, I don't know how to stop using razors or a world around as a mirror a world that is someone else's heaven and someone else's hell. So Sometimes I play the hero and the villain as I try to pick up the pieces of myself 5 at a time to put me back together again.

but Cant so I hurt with razors for now but one day I will hurt with kindness and I will be amazing! And I will teach my how not to use razors
Olivia Kent Oct 2014
Fields lie green before the eyes of the world.
Media reports tales.
The old stonewalls are glowing.
Seemingly lined with fairy lights.
Highlighting the flowers.
The beautiful flowers dropped by the little girl with smiling eyes.
Long hair of piercing shiny blonde is draped about her neck.
She's carrying a wicker basket.
Her flowers seemingly overflowing.
They appear to be poppies you know.
Some flaming red, others a perfection in innocent white.
She flicks her hair away from her delicate shoulders.
Her feathered wings released.
Today, she comes bearing beauty.
The child of the angels returns.
She is begging for world peace.
(C) LIVVI
Soloy Jun 2020
I strung the movements
with my heart.
With shrieks of desperate madness
to escape my self enfetter.

Paper beats rock but
My notes bounce back off blunt
damp stonewalls,
cornering me off.
I'm trapped.
My music goes nowhere,
An eternity's echo
Rings of despair

I model after myself,
each movement, each blow
A craft to my hole.

Where I yearn to see the open sky
Where my music can soar and fly

Just let it go,
Uncage it,
Let it flow.
I'm sleepy af when I wrote this
nihiliti Jun 2018
Solomon rides his chariot of fire
the sun, sky-high and singular, eyeing
his war waged in the dirt
with ant soldiers carrying banners
of men who trade blows for love

patrilineally doth the crown fall down
tumbling from head to head
'til two heads beheaded are consulted
as double-minded words of wisdom
make the world spin like unwise heads of state

molecular clock ticks and talks until
the ancestors come unglued
and the ancestry unravels into
yarns of pride and dying for
tales of glory, written only in blood

prehistoric fathers sacrifice daughters
before the mothers could file complaint
of double-edged swords in the house
where Hammurabi's word in etched in stonewalls
but falls on deaf, stone-hearted heroes

deforestation dreams destroy wooden wands
and depeople dozens of homes; magic gone
the holocaust costs more than halos and crowns
'cause caustic causes contrived by the man
make the world burn twice over

and there's only so many do-overs 'til it's truly over
The magician holds three pairs, but must fish in his cups for his vehicle of tyranny.
Stu Harley Oct 2015
doors
permit
kind light
to
enter
their
realm
and
light
the
stonewalls    
is
the
first
step
Asleep or dead, alive or awake, it's all the same blame game,
An endless continuum, channeling by a spectrum, my nightmares are black, daydreams are back when sacked, because harrowing injustice has me walking collapsed.

So far gone within this song,
my conscience reverberates every mistake,
I dream without a sound screaming silently behind stonewalls,
Wide awake reliving every mistake,
I'm pushing on because I'm consciously  strong, if I fail children will fall.

Every day giving loving support standing tall,
Trauma bonded with cancelling willpower no one can know I'm about to fall,
Conditioning silent treatments confusing reality to a stand still,
My spirit can't move, can't keep up,
My heart stopped beating which gives me shakes and chills.

Closing my eyes sometimes I spring awake,
sometimes that premonition is a mistake to partake,
a nightmare casts over as if reality can relate.

What is really real and why am I supposed to be here?
Who could enforce blasphemy to cast a shadow so dark that death would fear?

Asleep I don't feel the pain but I experience shivering terrors,
Awake the lunacies existence to blame for being so insane,
withering ashamed knowing it could have changed, I passively own my errors.

The torment of what I know carried into what I think,
Each sleep is but a blink as I am pushed to the edge,
Fiction or non fiction, that's the real question here,
Driven by compassion entwined with anxiety,
The mind tricks by many lost souls set a precedent,
I'm more fragile than I thought, two sizes smaller than a filament.
Making it through nightly terrors is a true testament,
If only everyone knew how bad the pain butchered inside whats left of it,
Daydreaming nightmares reward her culmination to enslave,
this much is eminent to carry my will through and through,
Before I lose control I need my nightmares to bring me back to a relaxed confusion heartbreaking reality.

The devil invaded inside, angels vacant because I lied,
I've been tricked and Halloween is daily, the loss of reality has my skin scaly.
WL Schuett May 21
Tears pool at the
feet of mortality.
Candles line the
stonewalls of fate
flickering in the rain .

Cutting a tunnel
through the silence
of the morning .
To elicit forbidden
sensations of
lustful embroidery.
Spiking trees
to save the forest ,
pulling stakes
in civil disobedience.
All within the nuance
of a border town
where the misty swamps
hold  no fever .

Sweeping views of
the hinterlands
with backwater thoughts
In the rain .
I have carried the burden
of a thousand bad decisions
with a sleepy vagabond
gilded halo .

Waiting for the bridge
to be rebuilt
after it burned in the dawn .
Showing me the forest
as I’m stuck in the trees.
Memories really mired
in the mud of
my sacred platte of ground .

Lost in a rainy midnight
silence of fear .
Affliction ,
the laurels of the
fires of adversity.

Lightning flickered
in the stillness of the night .
Quiet but for the distant thunder.

Aware that the silent
rain had ceased.
Whit Howland Feb 2020
In retrospect
do I have any
regrets

I'd say not

the particulars were sparse
coupled

with an atmosphere cold
and clear


thus
the choice was stark

in life
we make the best decisions
given what we know

say nothing of the stonewalls

Whit Howland © 2020
Abstract word painting

— The End —