Days painted gray
Suffocating with forever darkness
Standing before a mirror
Bleeding cracks upon my wrist
Nails digging deep in my neck
Torn skin in search of happiness
Aching head banged against walls
Causing too much pain to myself

I am unfixable

Tears forever escape my eyes
Nose bleeds red tears
Too many Xanax's for me to bare
Not enough alcohol
Too numb the aching in my body

I am shaking
I am alone
I am ****** up
I am hurting
I am broken
I am angry
I am dissatisfied
I am insane
*I am unfixable

A broken love
the broken eyes
The reason why my mind is uncontrolable
Convince to the greater good
I try in my mind
but i don't to eyes
I look up to people
but I look down
The truth is unspoken
except to the broken
Cover up the oblivious
at the end
everything stays
unforgettable
unfixable
broken

No I am not
Bullet proof.
Yes if you shoot.
I will die.
I will probably die if you even just looked at me.
I stop breathing every time you speak.
It's quite odd.
I can't stand to be around you.
Only because I want to be around you.
Something is odd about you.
Non judgmental you.
You somehow know what to say.
You know what I've gone through.
You know what it's like.
To slice up your perfect pale skin.
You know what it's like to want to die.
You know what it's like to be unfixable.
That's the state I'm in.
Broken and unfixable.
Like an egg...
Oh gosh here we go again on eggs emily.
Eggs once they splat are unfixable.
Unfixable
Forever.
That's me.
An egg.
I'm
Nothing
But
An
Egg?
True?
Or false?

you're the iceberg to my titanic .
you took me by surprise..
and left me in a wreck .
left a hole in the center of my heart
made me unfixable and cold and *broken

Bipolar.

The toxic word flickers across the blue screen, taunting my tears into reckoning. Everything makes sense now. Now I know each time my feelings crash there is no reason, no problem, no answer. Just disorder. My disorder. It’s swirling in my veins, intoxicating me like a drug, and sometimes I like it.

Each manic moment is incomprehensible perfection, with I as the center of its universe. The world is mine to own, the Gods mine to control. Every movement is unstoppable, the energy seeping out of my very pores. Words come easily; all I am is a flowing expression of the beauty within. Nothing is above me, all are below. I am flawless. Why can’t everyone be so perfect?

Yet each depressed crash sends me spiraling into a darkness I have never known. My nails become bitten, my hair a tangled mess. Every turn I find myself nothing but alone, no one around to notice or care or even see. They are better, everything’s better, as long as it’s without me.

I am a cyclical monster, luring in my prey before dragging it into the pits of my own personal hell. Every shattered shard refracts inviting light, yet they cut deep and only capture people in a lethal web. I am breakable, unfixable. Every shade of me I thought I understood is now a vague gray. Is this smile mine? Are these tears real? Am I feeling pain or is it just the chemicals and synapses dancing haphazardly in my brain, concocting this uncontrollable body that I do not know?

I cannot hinder my blood from screaming for help, but my heart cannot tell what my lips refuse to speak. Lips lie when I try to hide, the habitual sin I can never break. People must be punished for their sins. Locked within my prison, kept without my food, begging to be unchained yet pleading to cement my sentence. A prisoner cannot **** when they are dead.

He asks to help, but he is ignorant to the truth. My arms pull him close while my heart shoves him far away, dooming my flicker of a fantastical romance before it begins. It shoves them all away. The choice is shove or break. No one deserves this, the swirling vortex of uncertainty, depression, mania, unknown. How could I break them too? The only paths before me are to lose them or hurt them. Losing them would **** me; hurting them would **** me. My heart will be murdered either way. How inevitable it is for me to be dead.

This disorder is not terminal, yet its killing me quietly, so slowly, and forcing me to feel alone in even the most crowded room. To become an alien in my own world. They want to save me, but they don’t understand, she doesn’t understand, I am too afraid to understand. It won’t be spoken. Only on paper can my iron heart ease, only alone can I say what I know is real.

Bipolar.

she said, our life is a journey of accomplishments,
That we were programmed, we were trained
For what it has to come the other day
And at sudden something went fortunately wrong
And now we are nothing but some strayed unfixable bugs
That no one seems to care about
Did we fail to compile?
or did we not impress?
or did our programmer want us this way
for us to suffocate enough to
define the pain of failure
so we would learn to re-generate the code to the happiness
that we’ll know how to feel our self
when every sentiment on us floats away
and all we can imagine to do is dream
what would we be, if it never happened

I guess it's over.
Water has spilled all over our ink
and now our words are blurry.
Unreadable.
Unfixable.

But what do you care?
You were the one who tipped
the glass over.

Have you ever been under the influence so long
That when you are forced to stop
To come up for air
Everything feels
Unfamiliar?
Sobriety chokes you
Traps you
Makes your heart race
Like a Chinese finger trap
You voluntarily entered into,
But now feel as though you might not escape.
The sober life is what you strive for
Long for
Dream of
Everyone around you encourages,
You can do it
One day at a time
They say
Attempting to motivate
Inspire
Help
But these are all lies
A mere hour of sobriety is too much to handle
It suffocates
Makes my hands shake
And my mind go crazy
DRINKDRINKDRINKDRINKDRINKINEEDAFUCKINGDRINKNOWGODPLEASE
Thi­s phrase repeats itself,
Over and over
No matter how many times you tell yourself
ICANDOTHIS
You know
It’s only another lie in the endless stream of pathetic, useless encouragement
You have created for yourself.
And after you say this,
ICANDOTHIS
You laugh
Knowing that it is absolutely
UNTRUE
And always will be
How can you embrace sobriety
When the bottle calls from its hiding place
The place you hid it
From your lover, family, friends
Pretending you function
Just like all of them
Waking up
Going about your life
Without panicking about when the next drink will be
When the drinks you need
Will **** you
If anyone will even notice
Or care.
Probably not,
Why should they,
Do you?
You never have.
Your life is an endless series of drinks and lies, and more drinks
And more lies.
You are nothing.
An empty cup
Waiting to be filled with the substance that will distract you from living
And then take your worthless life in the end.
Alcoholic
Forever
Unfixable.
Stop wasting our time.

It’s the kind of subtle trickle
That turns the asphalt into a glassy mirror
Ripples, ripples, ripples
Over it like a black pond
The silver lining of each little droplet
Streaking the sky with shades of gray
The streetlights cast an amber glow
Upon the shimmering mist
Hiss, hiss, hiss
Against your stinging flesh
Turn your face up towards the darkened sky
Let the rainfall and streetlights wash away the dust
The dust of the souls you carry on your lips and cheeks
Etched into your back and palms
Their burdens may cause you aches and pains
Let the rainfall and streetlights wash them away
Rainfall and streetlights
Rainfall and streetlights
An urban confessional
Where the sky leans in to listen
As every perfect drop of water hits your skin
It’s the sound of a cleansing
Only you can comprehend
And although the hope of purity may have been swept away
by the wind of unfixable mistakes
It’s still the belief alone in possible redemption
That keeps you from relenting to temptation
Drink up the tears of the sky, child
You are forgiven
You were always forgiven
After all
Paths were made to be strayed from
Straight lines are mundane, they all look the same
And never give a little boy glass when you haven’t taught him
how to grasp what’s right in front of him
When he drops it
It’s a dangerous job
Picking up the sharp shattered pieces
Do not make him do it all alone
Yes, inevitably you will cut yourself
On the broken shards
Crimson teardrops
If they tumble from you
Do not distrust your calluses
You made them through your own hard work and suffering
But they can only do so much for you
Remember your skin is a shell not impenetrable armor
So it’s best to avoid the things you know will cut unnecessarily deep
Bleeding is just another way your body assures you that your heart is still beating
Looking up from the gutter the universe awaits you child
Do you not realize what’s at your fingertips?
Infinity
So don’t give in just yet
Let the rainfall and streetlights heal you
Drip drop, drip drop
Let them bathe you in warmth
Radiating
Let the rainfall and streetlights take you away
To a better place
Wherever that may be

do you have any idea the amount of break up texts i have composed and written within the notes of my phone?
and i kept telling myself, that this time i would send it
yet i knew i was lying
over and over i spilled out the words
only to be unsent and deleted
maybe things need to be over with
if i'm pouring my heart out over break up words
instead of fixing things
because i know that you won't listen
i know that we are done for good
i know that things are unfixable

i can't
i can't admit it

drown in the hatred
of yourself
as they wish you were
something else
try to be good enough for them
because all you want
is to be wanted
no one's okay with who you are
not even you
bore them to death
with useless silence
and wish you knew
how to make them laugh
how to make them keep you
go back to the darkness
and let it surround you
because you're no better a person
than you were when you left it
still irrelevant
lost and hiding
notice no one
because they'll notice you
and then forget
as you fail to fill the silence
as you fail to fill what's missing in them
because there's so much missing in you
push them away
before they take hold of your heart
and drop it as if it burned them
when it only meant to be a little warm
before they see just how
unfixable you are
cringe in embarrassment
because you opened up
and no one saw what you were showing
cry rivers on the inside
because you'll never be perfect  
look at yourself
and see how you don't matter
you are no one
and to everyone
you are less
wish that mother would have
saw her mistake and ended it
so you wouldn't exist
distract yourself from this reality
before it suffocates you
with its truths you'd rather forget
-IrisMaddenPoetry

Dear Vamika,
of a long and a
short
time away. Of the
future, when
your ******* are fuller
and you can finally speak
French fluently.

I hope you are a woman.

I know you
have not changed the world.
I didn’t write you that way.
I’m still
not writing you that way.
For my cheap gel pen
has none of that spark
of Fitzgerald’s and Nabokov’s,
who could bewitch the imagination with
such timeless giants
as ****** and Daisy.

So remember:
you’ll be brilliant
but absent
from any history books.
But still.
You are enough, exquisitely enough,
for the literature
I inhabit.

Hence, I fill pages with your inky
outlines, shade in the spaces
slowly
with hopes and wishes and poetry and dreams.
For you, of you.
I note
all that you are
composed of, so that
even the marginalia
laughs out your lipstick,
your clothes drawers,
your reading habits.

I am writing you as a woman.

I am writing you
as Music. Here is your laughter,
a little smokier now,
unspooling like a work of
Debussy’s. Here are your
fingers, lighter now, like meringues
or dandelions, as they dance
on your silver flute,
better, better, better than ever,
in shiny theatres far
grander than you imagined.
And here are your tiny
scrawled music notes, that with a few touched
keys, echo as tumbling stars
in the ears of thousands
and then plenty.

I hope you are a woman.
So play, compose, laugh and sing; be
Music ‘til your dying day.

I am writing you
as Ambition. It is calmer
than the fire that currently
singes my hands. Yet it’s still as
constant
as the flame you
light, every night before bed,
in front of the Goddess Durga
you pray to.
Your heart still
salivates for hard-boiled
surprises, for lucky pennies
found on pavements, for the
metallic sweetness of, yes,
success.

I hope you are a woman.
So strive, and strive again,
‘til you’re nothing but ash.

I am writing you, too,
as Success.
Surprise!
Those words unhooked
from the crevices of your mind,
are now bound in
paperbacks.
You are a poet, sleeker than
the 17-year-old fledgling
in her dim bedroom.
You are a journalist,
pouring morning stories
like hot tea, and sighing
with honey glee at
your name in
print.
You are a writer;
you fill even more pages, and
you now have a
gleaming, expensive
pen.

I hope you are a woman.
So write, ‘til you have lost
all breath.

I am writing you
as Compassion. How could I not
let you share words (your  personal magic) with
countless sparking children?
And not fill your hands with
gifts of maths, English,
science and art that you can
give and give and
give to them?
An education is as precious and
priceless as Picasso, you say.
A human right, all the same.
A human right.

I hope you are a woman.
So be kind. That’s it.
Always.
I have not forgotten  
to write you as
Justice.
Go out and support,
wave flags and placards,
sign petitions, join many
campaigns, scream out ‘til
your throat can’t bear such
honesty, such
indignation.
Keep fighting.
Never stop. The world is unfixable,
imperfect and
unhappy.
Help it.

I hope you fight for other women.
I hope you fight for other humans.

I am also writing you
as Resilience. So you’re able
to face yourself in that
mirror, even though
your stomach has a stubborn bulge, still,
and you haven’t yet learned
to smile at your nose.
Still.
And I’m reminding you that you do,
yes, you do,
have the strength to cry alone, then
get over it,
to have panic attacks, then
get over it,
to pick yourself up from
life’s many disintegrations and
start again.
You can. You’ve already done it.
I hope you always will.

I know that you are a woman.
So never give up, as
cliché as it sounds. Go ahead and
die trying.

Now, as the cadenza
of this rather sentimental piece,
which I’ve spun as
sweet
as stolen sugar
and the romantic comedies at which
you secretly weep,
I am writing you as
Tenderness.
See, I decided that Love and
Romance are but
bombs. And you and I both
believe in non-violence.
Therefore, you are
a hugger now, with lips
which kiss your husband,
scold your children
and sing
lullabies to the whole silly lot of them.
Your heart is always
swimming
with a good bit of warm wine,  so don’t
question its fullness.
Take care of yourself.

This.
This, above, is all I hope for you
to stay and have and be
until the symphony’s final note, your
final breath.

You are a woman.
Flawed, intelligent, beautiful, cracked, strong, kind, stubborn, soft, honest.
Real.

You are a woman.
So stay like this,
but be just a little more wiser, a little more grown
each passing year.

A woman.
Vamika, that’s all I ever want you to be.

She was the kind of lost that was unseen before
She was the kind of broken that's unfixable
She was the kind of beauty that's unfadable
She was the kind of love that was unforgettable

But her heart was cold as stone
Her truth were only lies
Her faithfulness was nonexistent and her love was false
But he couldn't stop
Deep down he knew it wasn't right
But there was something about her smile, her laugh and her touch...
That made it impossible to stop thinking about her, being with her, admiring her and loving her

It was painful, but necessary to feel alive
He couldn't breathe without her near
She had him on his knees, she had stripped him off his independence
To make him her needy wreck,
Filling the empty void in her heart
She loved the power and didn't care the cost
Her heart was made of stone
Stoning him alive
Until the day he dies
For all eternity

Today the snow falls softly
Like the feathers
in what was our duvet.
Now it is only mine.

A morning sky grey
as grey as
your new headstone.
The house has found
a louder silence
One that is deafening.

I know you are at peace
Away from awful pain.
But you promised me
a thousand forevers.
a million eternities.

Now in the misty snowfall
of a sad grey winter.
I know your chair
will sit empty.
Your books unread
Your music unplayed
And my heart unfixable

You aren’t broken, I am
I am flawed
I am malfunctioning
I am defective, ugly, wrong
I am mean, beyond repair
Disgustingly bitter, like licking the outside of an orange,
Disguised as a tempting delicious throbbing fruit of life.
But in reality, I am insufficient, innutritious,
A casualty no one wants to carry
But I am so afraid that one day you will see
This unfixable imperfection that is me
And you will leave.

Though excruciating,
I have delicately incised my heart
And left it open for you.
Blood and all.
I am completely defenseless,
Truly surrendering what is deepest within me.
All of me is on display,
And I am vulnerable, exposed.
Our environment, unsterile,
Makes me susceptible to infections:
Hate, judgment, abuse
That spread through the words and actions of others,
Attacking my system.
And, subconsciously, I internalize them,
Accepting them as my own.
But I trust you to care for me.
I believe with conviction, I must,
You have washed your hands
In preparation to touch my heart
With the gentleness I need
And cannot provide myself.
Because alone, I am unfixable,
Permanently damaged and slowly losing blood.
Dying behind my seemingly perfect demeanor,
A closed facade.
I trust that because I have exposed my pain
To you, solely you,
We can begin to repair the destruction
And stop the hemorrhaging,
Together.
Thereby providing the means by which
This earthly vessel, and in turn
The fragile soul inside,
Can finally begin to heal.

Look at that little light bulb
Switched off in disgrace
White but dull, all light gulped,
Deep inside its face
Is it worth being replaced?

Try switching it on,
Try bringing out its inner light,
Try encouraging it to illuminate,
Try giving it a second chance,
But, no, it is now out of date.

You take it out,
Throw it in the trash
It was always meant to break,
It shatters into unfixable peices in one crash
Like this lightbulb
Am I the next one you're going to replace?

i have arrived at a point
of desperate fury;
a final certainty
that there is no longer a sustainable solution;
the realization that god was right—
the only way to fix this horror
is to wipe it clean,
flood every sea,
drown everything in saltwater
and try again,
pretending all along we have just begun—

but no,
this time there may be no noah,
no single good survivor
except maybe the ones wronged the most,
maybe only the last of the trees,
maybe only the animals

this is to say:
if the human race went extinct
i would not grieve.
only thank the soil as it swallowed me,
only be disappointed because god,
was this the best we could do?
i would love to return
to a belief of more hope,
the someday-vision
of an earth where nothing suffers
and justice wields her scales like a weapon,
needing no blindfold,

but nowadays i only wonder
how we let the earth become this rotten,
let it get too far
and now the problem seems unfixable.
now, all we have to show for it
is a cumulation of debt
and a system that does not care for us.
death was right:
humans are foolish.
we are so good
at keeping things
when they are already lost,
tying them to our chests with hope
thinking we can save it.

but what better way
to halt the plague
than to raze it all to the ground,
set fire to the rotting at the core,
cut the roots and then restart.

to the child-saints we lost too early,
i pray:
tell god,
burn everything.
we need to try again.

He's damaged,
               Unfixable it seems
What others would call
                  nightmares
       Are his sweetest dreams
                And sometimes
  He takes his emotions
                               to
                            extremes
       It's so blatantly obvious
  When he finally
           breaks down
                    And screams
That the world
          brought him to his knees

                  He's a broken spirit.
       And I just don't know
   If my love
              can mend his soul
Or if my broken pieces
        Are enough to make
                                      him
                  ­                      whole.
       And if I use what
                       little I have left
To put him back together
                Won't that just
                                  leave me
      In a shattered pile of emotions
                   *forever?

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
Or at least that's what is said
But what if your vision is unclear
& your own image is not beauty in your eye
& your self-esteem declines as you get older
You're still ugly in your head
No matter what compliments you hear
& you don't know how to explain your reasons why

Society is to blame
Overly  advertising "skinny" pills or another new diet fad
magazine covers displaying frail & gauntly figures sharing their dieting habit
& there's an unofficial showdown on social media trying to one up your peers
It's become so stupid & lame
People going completely mad
Nothing is being achieved is what I don't get
Unfortunately this will continue on for years

Enhancing your appearance is become quite extreme
Botox filled needles, toxic injections say good-bye wrinkles as well as ****** expression
Button nose or a pointed one, maybe a bump rhinoplasty will quickly fix
Broken, distorted & barely holding on, slowly losing self-esteem
Whatever it takes, anything they can do to receive some positive attention
Showered with empty compliments, their beauty is deceiving & they're covered in lies
**** pumped full of silicone, hard to the touch
Some implanted *** cheeks, now it's massive & anacondas all want to bite
Reality is becoming surreal, dream like hard to decipher the real & fake
A crazed addiction that's just too much
A corrupting epidemic destroying what's right
We need to figure out how to protect the years to come with prevention
Killing this trending fascination of a stupid mistake

We continue to change it, hide it, deny it, maintain it, lie to it, cry at it & accuse it
Everyone has got one, no one is exempt
Year after year it's a bigger obsession
Criticizing & judging what they view is their daily routine
With no plans to quit
Changing their thoughts & mind is something dangerously risky to attempt
Unable to change what they view on their screen
Drifting farther out of any reality
Claiming they're unaware how negativity can quickly poison
In denial that it does any harming
Oblivious to the unraveling image
No longer obtaining any slight speck of your originality
& got caught up in the deadly alluring fascination
For results that were nonexistent
Ridiculously absurd & quite alarming
Side effects include blurred vision, forever tainted thoughts & more unfixable damage

Lost souls, a pointless quest to change what was never wrong
Leaving all those confused & badly broken & a mind almost rotten
A spirit was just no longer there
Emotions shut off & an expressionless face remains
Failing to reach society's idea of "perfection"
Another one gone, that didn't take very long
The light in people's eyes faded & their smiles joined the forgotten
Beyond the looking glass we lost our stare
& our spirit it claims
Nothing is left now but an invisible reflection

I remember it
all too well
her tears were there
and she was unfixable
at 2 a.m., she was
taken for granted
and she thought
how sure it was she'd be outlived
I remember her
voice cracked, raw
as she said
I can't
and I can see it now
those doe eyes filled my vision
and tears swam round her lashes
so tired of crying
I remember it
I can feel it in my bones
how the air grew hotter
between spaces when no one spoke
but most of all
I remember me
speechless and dazed
filled with sorrow
my words were nothing
against her pain
she was still screaming
when I said to her
softly as I could
don't give up on yourself
for we both know
it isn't fair to you
stay away from your razors tonight.
look me in the eyes
you are so loved, and by so many

memories may fade
but flashbacks are forever
coming back
haunting my nightmares
refusing to die.

the moment of surprise,
hold of breath,
wandering eyes,
cloudy skies,
crowded place,
elevated space,
racing heart,
i'm fallen apart,
tight grip on your colar,
don't be so bipolar,
red lipstick kisses,
heartbroken pieces,
messy hair,
we are the perfect pair,
only when you leave me,
you will see,
why we were so reckless,
young and careless,
fooling around,
misbehaving without a sound,
our hearts wound,
unfixable,
dismissable.

The sadness is beginning to set in
like the grapevines that grow up the side of an old brick house
gnarled and tangled in such a unfixable mess
just like the inner workings of the soul of mine
that once felt love and beauty and strength
growing in bouquets of flowers from my chest
unfortunately those flowers rotted and decayed
yet never really left, just like the proof that's shown
from the overcrowded webs of vines that still grow
up the side of that old brick house.

She slapped on a smile
that tells the lies for her
when she doesn't have the energy to

they say she's always happy, always perfect

but inside she's broken,
broken and she can't be fixed.

nothing can fix her now

In purple checked dresses we are confronted
Behind a piano sits ‘Miss Creak’ head of house
She has one bad eye, unfixable from childhood
But plays beautifully perched on an oakwood
And fabric stool. This is our secondary school.

On the wall above the piano is a framed print
‘Madonna of the Meadows’ by the artist Bellini
I pushed a drawing of a couple intertwining
Under ‘her’ door knowing she never would have
But a boy may have felt affection for ‘that’ affliction.

Here we all ate meals, did fashion shows and sang
I was glad my dress was purple not orange or red
Went better with my blue eyes and blonde hair
The rest of the school diveded into coloured checks
To represent Shakespearean female characters.

Just opened in Wandsworth a new comprehensive
Serving all abilities, behaviours and nationalities
Cordelia, Beatrice, Juliet, Katharine,
Portia, Rosalind, Olivia, Viola a rather unsuitable
Vision for such an uptake of adolescent froth.

Miss Creak was, kindly, I wish I had always been.

i'm starting to think
that maybe
i'm unfixable

i'm broken
there's no denying that
but everyone's always told me
"don't give up"
"it gets better"

does it really?
i'm starting to doubt their validity
i'm broken
and i don't think
i'll ever be whole again

what does it mean
to be only a shell
of who i used
to be?

do i even
have purpose
anymore?

i'm starting to think
maybe it's time i give up

give up on myself
give up on my friends
give up on my family
give up on my life

because really
what's the purpose
of being alive
when you can't
feel anything
at all?

he had just texted
me saying that he read
the letter i wrote him
over five times.
he said he could not stop
smiling,
and that he wants to change
to be a better boyfriend to me.
he fails to notice that i
don’t want him to change,
because when people change
they figure out that they are better off
with someone who is one hundred percent
stable;
im about seventy nine percent.
im almost there baby,
just a little longer.
i am so ******* glad you
are changing to get better,
it’s been too long and there were too many
stormy-eyed nights
and its finally time for a
starry-eyed night.
we are doing so good;
we are flowing more than we ever did.
and im thankful for that,
i guess.
when you first met me,
you were a shady mess,
a mess that you thought was
unfixable.
i told you that i wouldn’t leave your side,
and i stuck to my word.
i tried fixing you the best i possibly could,
and kind of succeeded.
i wanted to fix you by phone calls
and late night texts,
explaining to you how much i love you.
i wanted to save you,
i still do.
i wanted to be that person to help you
no matter what time it is.
but from my perspective,
that is not how i helped you.
i had helped you in the most
humble way;
just by being me.
it’s a known fact that you love me,
*** doesn’t need to prove that.
and i guess that since you were able
to detach yourself from your sadness,
and attach yourself to me,
made you better.
i know you are terrified of losing me,
but i really ******* hope you know,
I will still be in love with you even if you
killed me at point blank range.


// {m.j.}

Paper soulmates
Drawn together by fate
Glued into each other's lives persistently
As we are paper soulmates we are prone wear and tear
Torn paper is truly unfixable
You can only try to sellotape together what has been torn apart
Scrunched paper can't truly be smoothed out again,
there is still going to be evidence of past experience
Our story Inked onto the pages of our body
Stained by water, the ink smudges off of us
Our stories ??
unreadable

Dark nights.
No lights.
Being bipolar stung.
The pressure of the world on your lung.
Can't breath?
Lucky me.
Standing beside as I'm dying.
Lock me up while I'm crying.
Watch out for this one.
I just wanted the gun.
Pull the trigger back.
Let the bullet attack.
Be proud mom.
Look where my brain has gone.
Drugs... Drugs... Drugs...
Hold me down to this earth.
A new dawn, new emotions birth.
Honey the doctors can help.
You never listen as I scream and yelp.
Stop trying to fix me.
I'm unfixable can't you see?
Just be still.
Thanks to the drugs I never get my fill.
Always hunting for something more.
Burns and cuts galore.
I need the pain.
You all call me insane.
Today I'm blue.
Oh you are too?
Today I'm white.
I can't feel, can't fight.
I can't run.
I guess I'm just done.

In a fragment of a lifetime history
Counted are the precise point in time
Where the past reflects the future, becoming our present
This includes the reasons why we parted ways;

It was an accordance to a heated moment one night ago
Of our dreadful argument and misunderstanding
Even the days that came, was still a raging storm;

It was travail, painful, a difficult experience
Even the weeping of my eyes can not cease the brokenheart bleed;

Until everything became still, silent like strangers meeting for the first time
And we know both this is our unexpected ending of our history.

You looked beyond my hideous smile.
A smile with a history of broken scars.
I was living under a world where there
Was no love , no sanity of the mind.
Broken patches on my veins .
Hard to sewn , hard to rebuild .
But you stayed....

My heart was in debt , you stayed.
To pay what was lost , to gain its strength.
I was unfixable ,so I believed.
But the truth sank with your touch.
Your touch deposit little wires
To make my dormant heart reignite
With the fire it once reigned.
I could be rebuild .
You stayed

You look beyond my almond eyes .
There were tremendous waves of memories.
I was looking at a world with love tragedies.
Right in front of me , you made me believe.
Rebuild my eyes , to quit being blindly impaired.
You stayed

You tasted my pink subtle lips ,
Your mouth tasted a mouth full
of broken stories to share .
With every taste, I was sinking in my own spit.
Ruptured taste .
Easily to fix with your love.
You stayed

Round and round of long night
Endearing my pain , my broken heart
You taught me to be sane.
You rebuild my cracks
Reconstruction my pavements.

I fell in love with you over and over
Because you stayed through it all
I stayed to learn your flaws .
Who knew you were so close
But in reality so far ....
I still stayed

Through the nights where you found yourself afraid , I stayed .
I was the courage light.
Through the nights where you found still unable to breathe.
I was your oxygen.
Through the nights you need someone ,
I was your muse.
I loved you more than I loved myself.
You rebuild me to become the person
I should have always been .


Only to know you came to fix me .
Only to fix me in order
To be sane for the
Love I truly deserve .
I really want to ****** you with the
Shattered pieces of my heart.
Mourn your silhouette,
I only say this because you made me
See for my own kind .
I can't hate you for that , or depise you.
I looked at the mirror and see
What I am capable of ,
and how hard I can love.

And any one who is lucky to replace you
Will live in world where there is love .
Where my eyes will see hearts .
Where my heart will beat endlessly for him.
Where my lips will taste heroism.

Thank you for rebuilding me for the future.

The heat intensifies with my lonesome tendencies, and
I fear palpitation from innocently brushing arms with a stranger.
But when I find myself in a stranger’s bed
(or a wineshop,
a car,
a park)
the thrill is missing.
I am a stereotype, a masochistic statistic. I am becoming the 20-something-sleeping-around-to-stave-off-boredom.
I am an archetype that’s been romanticized to death.
Save the romance, it’s greed and it’s hunger and it’s pure boredom.
These men become gold. Thread after thread
of secret affairs solidify into a piece of treasure,
Like 14 karat chain necklaces that get tangled
into an unfixable knot of links and claw clasps.
I carry it in my strut and that is exciting.
My walk is confidently direct at 3 in the morning.
In the summer, when the heat is outside and not in my bed, I am unsatisfied.
Yet when the promise of romance approaches, I allow myself to make poor decisions out of fear.
So I make a different poor decision to get me through the next hour.

It's broken
In a thousand pieces
All the kings men yada yada
Yet still you attempt to rebuild
Diligently picking up the pieces
Are you a fool
For trying to fix
The unfixable
Or am I
for never Trying at all.

Lust can be the cruelest thing
It tricks you
Mind ***** you

The weak lust can give you
That wild, filthy,
Animalistic ***
The kind where two bodies
Are so defiled
There is no turning back
And scars remain as evidence.

The strongest lust
The most dangerous,
Turns on you
It ravages you,
Engulfs you completely
And pushes you
Towards that dark corner

It takes your hands and arms
From shielding your face and
Forces your eyes open
It takes your bodies for the ride of their lives
The one they most feared

Now it engulfs you both
Wrapping around you
No longer forcing you
You willingly, sickeningly
Look into each other's minds
And that lust,
That cruel lust swirls around you

Changing into the other
Four lettered 'L' word
Filled with more sins
Than both your bodies
Could ever create together
And that one that will drown you
Into inevitable destruction.

Your bodies: ******
Your minds: ******
And now your hearts:
       Forever unfixable.

A universe shattered
Long ago
But bits and pieces still remain
Leaving scars
Memories unforgotten
Twisted nightmares
Unbearable weight on my shoulders
The logic states otherwise
But my mind... a black hole
It's been years
Why does it still hurt?
Why does it still matter?
Why do I care?
It's done, unfixable
The ground beneath my feat
Unsteady
Alone in the darkness
The memories linger
Preying on the insomniac
Who cares too much
Wishing to go back
Hoping to amend
Knowing I've been wronged
But still believe I am to blame