It's almost as if I scream into their ears
               and they don't hear me.
I grasp onto them
               but they don't feel me.
I draw on my body with a blade
               but they don't see me.
I'm invisible.

Being branded with shame
        While it still boils in my blood
Leaves me with cold fingers
        And vice-gripped lungs.

Curtains,
an invention made to hide,
to protect.
Curtains
are made
to give a sense of security;
isolation well-deserved.
But
Curtains,
can be dangerous.
Curtains
can keep you from the truth,
keep you from your life
outside your life.
Curtains
can make you feel stranded
and helpless.
Curtains
can make someone go crazy,
crazy enough to take a bottle,
keys,
and a gun.
Curtains
will make you drive around for two days,
THINKING
about your two sons.
Curtains
will make the hot fat tears roll down your face
in embarassment and pain and agony.
Curtains,
will put that one bullet in the gun,
put that gun to your head,
and pull.
Curtains,
will blind,
and lie,
and ****,
and tear,
and rip,
and hurt
you,
if you let it.

Both sides want the same,
but neitherr listen at all.
They throw the grenades,
the "they better listen" threats,
in a battlefield called home.

You have a big heart,
I love to ****.
Good-night.

The sky is falling!
Oh wait it's just the rain of the clouds
Or the tears of my eyes?
Either way the darkness is consuming me
And everything is breaking
breaking
breaking apart and away
Drifting through the rivers of tears and the broken pieces of my heart,
Cutting my body as it falls slowly along with its best friend Gravity.
The crimson ribbons string out
Staining my skin
Scarring my soul.
The sky is falling!
Or is that the heaviness of your words
Pulling down on me like the wind on a delicate flower
Or the chains on an inmate
The sorrow swallows everything in its path
Taking me with it
I'm in a black hole
With no escape
No way out
As I scream it comes back to slap me
And the purple bruise slowly rises
As my body contorts and stretches the way it  never should.
The sky is falling!
Or is that just drowsiness I get
From popping the next pill
And the next
And the next
And the next is a little harder to swallow
Because my body shuts down
And I'm finally comfortable in the dark
It is now my home as I lay before You.
My eyes drift closed and the ribbons are much larger now
Surrounding every inch of me and past me as finally
The sky is falling.

You look in my eyes and my breath quickly catches,
You hold my hand and my heart starts to pound,
You kiss my lips and I fall into a trance,
You smile at me and I can't help but smile back.

My heart is full of scars and scratches,
but you love me all year-round.
I want you to take my hand to dance,
to look in your eyes and let the world go black.

Our heats are puzzle pieces that latch,
your's over mine making me feel safe and sound.
You light my world and tell me "There's a chance",
and that, into the dark you never want me to go back.

Though my heart may be full of patches,
our hearts will always be bound.
Hopefully, as time flies our love will enhance,
and remember only You thought they were places to put love,
                                         and not just cracks.

I long for the moment
I see your face again,
and not in a picture
or a description,
but face to face.
For three months
we've written back and forth,
and every letter written in your handwriting
brought a smile to my face.
Even thinking back
to when you would protect me
I can't help but
smile like an idiot.
I miss you the way
a mother misses her child when they go off to college,
I miss you
and your witty remarks about
EVERYTHING!
But soon I can see you again,
soon I can hear your voice;
Soon we can feel each other's warmth again.
Soon I can tell you
"Welcome Home my Marine"

We dont sleep,
we dont eat,
we block out as much of the world as we possibly ******* can,
and we drown ourselves in the depth of our mind
dragging the ones we love with us because we cannot bare losing them,
the way we lost ourselves.
We become the crazies,
the insanes;
labels in a world full of 'blank pages',
the outcasts that no one feels sorry for because we put ourselves in that situation.
WE skipped that meal
WE bled that word
WE drank the bleach
and
WE tied that rope around our ******* necks
because of words that could never hurt
because you were bored
because you saw the surface
because you don't ******* care that we are you in another body.
I hurt the same way you do
but you don't see
because of the smile on my face
because the walls I built became my home
because I have perfected this ******* mask.
We sat alone in our rooms feeling the weight of your judgement roll down our cheeks and into our hearts with knives and pens sticking out,
warping the way we would ever see the world again.
I want  you to know you are not alone
and that
yes
we made that decision
but it was YOU who pulled the strings on those puppets.

There is no mercy on the edge of a blade

You are the only thing keeping me alive.
Holding my head up above water like a daddy and his baby,
but holding me down to stay on Earth.
Holding me close to protect me from the harmful world,
but letting me explore the beauties of the dark hearts.
You love me for me like no one else.
You understand the pain and torture I put myself through.
You see my true self behind my empty eyes
and show me a love I never knew existed.
You love me with no exception; cracks, pink scars, dark heart and all.
You see my fake smile and hear my fake laugh,
holding the weight of a thousand worlds in only the small palms of my hands to please everyone,
to show them the Carny that I am.
But you don't care about everyone else, only your and my dark heart.

When I have a daughter I will never tell her she's pretty,
because she will never be pretty.
I don't want her to walk down the halls at school and say,
"I'm pretty"
She doesn't deserve it.
My daughter will never understand the word 'pretty'
because my daughter will never be pretty.
She will never know what it means,
because everyday I will tuck my daughter in
push her hair away from her forehead
and kiss her there telling her
she is beautiful.
She is magnificent.
She is perfect because despite the lies that say
to be perfect is to be flawless
my daughter will know that being perfect is being who you truly are and not what everyone makes you out to be.
My daughter will never know what it's like to be
pretty great or
pretty cool or
pretty amazing no!
No.
My daughter will know my love for her every second of every ****** day because my daughter will be
beautiful and perfect
all on her own.

All things in life
Become harder as we go.
Caring turns into
Destruction; but you can
Emerge from the
Flames and save this earth.
Good people help change things
           for the better.

She's nowhere to be found,
while the sun's out to play,
while the children laugh,
while the people pray.
They call for her
but she's nowhere to be found,
except in her dark room,
asleep and sound.
The day goes on
and still she sleeps.
Not a word forms on her lips,
not even a peep.
Hours roll by
and not an eye was opened,
until the moon hung in a string
and it was like a spell was broken.
Like lightening in a storm
she hunted for her feast,
and her body began to change
into a nocturnal beast.
Her eyes start yellowing
and razor sharp teeth form at her lips.
She crawls on all fours
and her clothes start to rip.
She is unrecognizable
as her finger turn to paws
and right at the tip
are extremely sharp claws.
She can feel the aggression
and kills the innocent.
She can, and will, snap a spine
in just an instant.
She cannot stand
the beast within.
She wants to end her life
but cannot commit such sin.
Then she's off to the highest mountain
as fast as she can go
past lakes, so wide
and valleys, so low.
Finally she's there,
so close to the cliff.
She huffs and puffs,
and looks up stiff.
Her habits are nocturnal,
like that of a loving owl,
but as she stares at the thick, big moon,
She howls her blood curling, unheard howl.

Hurting hearts,
Alone in angry ashes,
Timed threats,
Raging wrath,
Earnest easment.
Demons are demanding destruction and demolition.

I can't ******* breathe

The scars on my skin show the battles I have lost,
but the air in my lungs prove I am winning the war.

You are ******* worth it

A constant battle rages.
Hot and cold circle each other in an elegant dance.
Decay feeds the blooming field above.
The sun and moon compete for our attention.

Inside, a wrathful hurricane thrashes against my skull.
Inside, the elements clash against my ribs.
Inside, the gravity of death and the lift of life rip my heart in half.
Inside, I don't know what to choose.

Heaven and Hell continue their war inside of me
     and all around me.
They whisper to me the wrongs and rights of the world
     but they tell me lies.
I close my eyes tight and clamp my hands over my ears
     but they still find me.

I do not feel serenity in the natural balance of life.

I feel confused
          I feel blurred
                    I feel chaotic

With the pressure to choose.

                                           I cannot choose.
                                   What if I choose wrong?
               How do I choose who gets to hurt
                                                            and who gets joy?
But I do it all the time.

I choose to hurt.
So they can feel joy.
But I don't want it anymore.
What will happen to the scale if I decide to jump

     into the river
          so far below,
     into the clouds
          so welcoming,
     into the fire
          so destructive
     into the ground
          so cold underneath.

How will I find balance within me
     if I cannot find peace in the balance around me?

Let's
only
say
eternity for
reckless
sake