What has happened to the love I knew before?
He that opened the door,
let me come before
everything else, and what's more
The when and how.
The I was right and I vow,
I care not about thou,
but more about pride,
so my tears I'll hide.
Forgive me if I lied-
let a nothing slip
from my lip,
and held the truth inside.
What is love to thee?
A spouse who is filled with glee?
A perfect me?
There is no such thing, so go- now flee.
Take flight of my life
and leave me to be.
Why can't I just let you go?
Why do I keep holding onto someone I can't have?
Why the FUCK do I torture myself like that?
maybe its your blonde hair
maybe it smells like strawberries
maybe it smells like some other fruit
maybe its your eyes
blue enough to drown in
blue enough to swim in
maybe its your body
and how perfectly it could fit in mine
and how cute you look
in underwear and a t-shirt
and how it maybe feels like heaven
I'm just in love with the thought
the thought of dating a girl
who is eons out of my league
and if it wasn't for these hipster glasses
I wouldn't be able to see you
wayyyyyyyy out there
but I'm sorta content with that
content with just the thought
if circumstances were different
and I lived closer
or you lived closer
or I didn't text you too much
or you didn't text me too little
this could work
Intentionally wounding ourselves through flashbacks,
We unleash pain by remembering those bad moments.
Looking at that past picture that cuts the mind,
Or talking about a memory that stabs the soul.
Recognizing that these actions leads to bleeding inside,
Yet we still puncture a deep hole which causes harm.
Once the blood of recollection pours out,
It’s difficult to clot the self-inflicted scar.
Remembrance of heartbreak ruptures the present,
Thinking that stimulates an impossible scenario.
Reflection and prediction is a very dangerous mix,
Like adding fuel to a huge fire that is out of control.
Instead of reliving painful thoughts regarding the past,
Use the medicine of laughter to ignite a smile from history.
If I could compile every one of my thoughts
My dreams, my moments of joy, even hate
In the palms of my two long lean hands
I would examine them with antique binoculars
Just like I was a patron of the arts, a feather crown atop my head
Full length gloves, tulle skirt bouncing around
My most intimate parts.
I asked my papa today what he thought of you
Walking and parading around in the Alabama sunshine
Everyone has their story, their spine
We talked about you, among you, what you lacked
For what seemed like long
I remember when I was just a few years younger
I felt this need, this severe urgency
To get out a certain amount of information,
With anecdotes, to convey
Make what I felt, what I had to say known
That need still resides in me a little
But I see the desire for acceptance, validation
Grow fainter and fainter.
I shake my head away at negative or fearful thinking
And I will just start to feel a moment of positivity
Self love, letting go--
But knowledge, I know you haven't let me go yet
You've got more to say, you are gonna wanna corner me
I do, I fear for me
It makes me furrow my brow and bite my lip
For my spirit, my soul, my sensuality
Only to let it turn into an amused laughter
I'm such a spoiled bitch
But fuck, I've got to be the one
To make you and your impractical love
Stay the fucking fuck fuck AWAY from me.
My past reached out to me today in a number of ways
Driving around in my little red Jetta
I was the queen of the town
I am the queen of the town
I am the queen of my own life.
My memory floods back to that singular moment
A sticky note, on my wall
You showed me, as if it were a medal
You were supposed to be by my side that night
You claimed to be so proud
But I remember you were so inappropriately playful
Grabbing me around the party, like a little boy
In a lingerie store.
Your voice raspy and ringing with
What you thought I wanted to hear
And it was
But you could never really follow through.
I hate your ex-girlfriend.
I hate all of them.
I hate that they still adore you
I hate that they keep up with you
That you and your little incestuous posse
Still try to dance the same dance
Just grow the fuck up.
But my hate, my rage, the betrayal
I have known and known again
I released it into the super moon tonight
You told me tonight, while in your Catholic church, no doubt
That you hoped I saw it, that its beautiful
As my mother put it in her deep Southern drawl:
Branded with ink and haunted by nature's night.
I stared deeply up at that moon
My father thought I was taking a picture, I looked so long
All I saw were flashes of images, your voice
You calling out the name you gave me
Again and again
And how I always knew, in the back of my mind
That was fond for you, but not really until the very end
That my hands, my finger tips
Were always mid
my entrails seaping crimson blackness into my heart
Bitten by the rotting incisors you force into my flesh
My body seeking your gaping void
mere mortals describe as a mouth
Your dark hollow soul blackening Cutting my thin cold skin i let you in. Feeling our flesh merging in this torturing oneness,
Filling the cavities of endlessness.
i yearn to feel you feasting upon my clammy cold covering desiring for the essence of your inner being to take me whole devouring my crescent moon in undertones of a wild demonic frenzy
Extracting dark passion from your soul Staring into darkest nights of your mind's cavity.
Through your soul, a black gaping hole. Darklights seeping through my sanity.
searching for a searing flame
it matters not that my etheral love is a force from another plain
i can only believe in the feeling of you
Perpetual fear of being hurt long i went through.
This torturing love you wrung me through.
my cold dead heart lingers in a state of confusion
serving only to terrorize my mind
forever playing tricks on me
for a soul ive left behind
The brilliant blue of the sky today made me think of the color of your eyes in the bright light coming through your car windows, and how she was right next to you driving, blissfully unaware that you were torturing me with pictures of your face.
I live with my broken heart
I live with my dying part
I can't believe that I still live
Even in my dream I can't have your love
I have wings but I can't fly
I'm torturing but I can't cry
I can't live without you but I will try
Even stars don't shine on my black sky
Why does my destiny not on your way
Although I've seen the Sun and Moon together
If I could open your heart with this key
I would be with you forever!!!
All we have left are diversions,
To pass the time.
A pantomime reality,
Those jokes we shared,
Cutting the world down to size.
They aren't funny anymore.
That forgotten t-shirt —
The stray intimacies of lovers —
The lacerations in my skin —
The blood that I spill —
The ambulance ride —
The last face I'll ever see —
My favourite girl,
My favourite hell.
Io fei gibetto a me de le mie case.
QUIT TORTURING YOURSELF.
QUIT TORTURING YOURSELF.
Quit torturing yourself.
Quit fucking trturing yrself.
Quit trtrng urslf.
Naught but mockery.
In the back of my mind,
I've always recognised why
Why all those nights,
I fought sleep,
Why all those days,
Appetite didn't come.
Didn't sleep again last night.
And I rose from bed,
reluctant as ever to return
to a heart-torturing reality.
The hot scalding shower,
wasn't hot enough.
And when it was,
I closed my eyes,
Calm reigning my soul.
I walked the streets,
Drizzle of rain splattering on my face,
It was as though everything was fine,
Yet everything wasn't.
I felt everything wrong,
But everything was right.
I wanted to stand
in the middle of that street,
And await an incoming car.
Nothing in me protested,
Except for the mind,
the god fearing mind.
My heart was silent,
I hailed a cab,
got to school like
everything was fine,
But the emotions on my face
probably couldn't lie.
All bottled up,
in a bright corner I sat,
just wanting to let it all out.
The heart-torturing reality interferes.
Figured, why I never was a fan.
When the sun sets and the moon rises,
The demons come out to play,
with the minds of the innocent.
Torturing them with cruel words, cruel intentions.
And what if the innocent play along?
Are they really so innocent.
Torturing themselves with cruel words, cruel intentions.
Drowning in the hopelessness of the innocent.
Breathing seems like a job,
Death seems like a chore.
Living is hell.
The innocent succumb to the demons.