Isabella Rosemary

Isabella Rosemary Feb 2016

I swear I could visualize my skeleton
With so much more clarity than before
I could see how whole it was
Despite all my missing parts
My skeleton keeps on flowing through the motions,
The same bones groove together with purpose.
I owe my surprisingly healthy bones more than I give
I feel more whole as a skeleton
Please remove the rest
My motions will be smooth and conscious
Like water dripping from the faucet,
my fingers will tap with impatience.
Like a wheel tumbling down a hill,
My old bones will follow
They are the key to freedom
No wonder.
The key that opens every door
Is called the skeleton key.

#body #image #skeleton

Feb 2016

Third Eye Candy

Living Proof

climbing out of bed and into my spirits' handsome remove
as the windows breach my solitude with all sunshine and an early mist
reclines like a cat made of jewels; i join the **** of my room with new feet
planted in yesterday's disarray, and a multitude of undone things.
i seek the fumes of my coffee. I scoff at the tattered robe i can't get off me-
for it's comfort is old and friendly, draped over my sleepy flesh...
adorned in lethargy and no small muse, i ***** at the giants that taught me just how the ocean is one tear
wept from a loving dream
that borrowed the eye of a storm
to cry havoc
over truth.

every wave, living proof

Of You.

Isabella Rosemary Feb 2016

Mother's Days

Vanilla hangs in the air and dances,
Making itself at home,
Paint stains her skin and desires,
Bubbling with creativity, boiling over with dreams,
Dark demons cling to the corners,
She pushes them back, ignore, ignore,
Tingling with entrancements she trounces forwards,
Leaving her tortures in the depths,
Swishing swirls cover her page radiating a euphoric glow,
Does she paint the light to rebuke the dark?
Or does she simply wish to meld the two in a crossed road of idolized evil?

#mom #painting #creativity #mothers

Isabella Rosemary Feb 2016

sdrawkcaB

My stomach hurts rhythmically, my heart beats when it wants

I never sleep when I want to and I choose the stressful nights to try

My blood flows backwards,

I choke on my words, and my food, and your name, and the truth

I’m an inside out backwards ******* fool; I see both wheels going left when I’m not supposed to

I see your hate when I should see your love

I am my own hero and nemesis in a single comic strip

I trip on my feet, and swallow my tongue, I bite my finger until it goes numb

My ears don’t ring, they hiss

I’m not a lemon, I’m poison

I’m a mislabeled bottle of hazardous chemicals

I am something that should’ve been recalled

#unreality #depersonilization

Isabella Rosemary Feb 2016

Not Dreams, Nor Nightmares

How can a hand I haven't held in so long feel more real than my own?
How can the flashing of blurry images made up of fears and desires draw out more emotion than entire days passed?
How can a voice you should never hear speak new words again contradict all logic?
You can’t call them dreams; you can’t call them nightmares.
They are a newly evolved breed of unreality.
Silhouettes, and gentle lines, represent an entire human.
An entire life conveyed in simple, thoughtless strokes.
How can they control me that much?

#dreams #nightmares #unreality