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Notte RottoFiery blue and silent red
One gives, one takes, 'till Pain is dead
'Til Pain is dead, we'll hold this fight
My whispered sun, your broken night
Questions weave into my skull
My left hand empty, right too full
But silent red and fiery blue
Will reach out hands, as friends can do
Tell me something, angel dear
Your deepest dreams, desires, and fears
I'll guide them swift into my own
My pretty blues will take you home
Open doors with broken locks
Weeping as the angel knocks
Morning finds me in my bed
Alone in blue... no trace of red
Healing Me Softly
Years can seem so short
And I've spent my life counting
Each hour incessantly, as if
I wasn't okay, compared to most
As if He wasn't waiting to cradle
My soul in His hands
I broke a little at work yesterday
Somehow thought I was responsible
For the whole damn world
And reconnecting each heart string
(I forgot He is my Atlas, in a way
His shoulders bear the burden)
Swam, rather than slept, last night
Swamps kissing putrid flesh
My Night-Mare was writhing in pain
I had to save her, too
And it didn't feel any better
I woke up this morning
Gave my eyes to God, and my hands
Clenched tightly, but relented
Purple smoke filled my heart
Brimstone of sin
I let Him breathe it in
I love this bleakness
That shelters me
Like sweet breath of glass
Cold on my face
I love this chill
This electric pulse inside
Like no other feeling
A pain I can bear
The wind calls, and draws,
And exploits my soul
My tears sheltered deep
I try to survive the summer
The punishing heat
Melts my bones
It is time to go home
And yes, I may be blind
But I am safe
The world hides inside
The bleakness is mine
The eerie remnants of a
another Catholic Saint,
burnt at the stake for doing
something the King or
Pope didn’t like.
Another day invented by
retail stores to get at man’s
insatiable greed and buy
cards and candy for their
My heart doesn’t need
a day to know I love someone-
To be told when to spend
money or think of my family.
For me, it was a sunny, yet
cold March day
Bright light beamed in the
windows of the hospital corner room.
You were a soft white-skinned
Baby with wrinkled toes and
Strong crisp lungs and
I knew the second I
saw you, you were
My girl, as love flooded
from every open gate in
my body and filled me.
FeelPast the candid, colorific
Sanctity of summer thought
Through the morbid, metamorphic
Purity of winter rot
Dowse thyself with wonder wild
Snatch an incoherent tune
Come and see the splendid Child
Wide awake inside her room
Watch her as she stares in silence
Look away, and she will cry
She is not a heavy burden
She was never born to die
Touch her pretty, pulsing features
Feel her hair of seraph's wings
Watch her as she births the creatures
That give life to other Things
Past the husband, wife, and brother
Sister, aunt, and suckling babe
Through the eyes of ev'ry mother
Screaming loud as blood she gave
Drown thyself in sunken twilight
Feast thy soul on Life congealed
Never forget what is your light
Never lose the pow'r to FEEL
I never give something that isn't returned
I give you your sanction, and then you shall burn
I do not deny that my heart has a hole
I don't live your life
I don't have a soul
This weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth
Is something that's written inside of a dream
I do not have loving intentions for you
I don't live your life
I don't have a clue
I won't be forgotten; I won't be denied
You cannot destroy me (though they've always tried)
You cannot decipher the Thing that I am
I don't live your life
I don't give a damn
I never speak longer than Time will allow
His grasp is too tight, and my heart is too proud
To give up the evil that empathy stole
For I don't live your life
And I haven't a soul
Let your sinner's soul breathe
With your hands in the fire
And a heart that perspires
Into something unclean
For the fears that you fought
Are now wither and rot
Like the time that you thought
You were some kind of queen
The queen of Control
You're not queen anymore
You're a stupid angel
Turn your wings off and fall
Into darkness and pain
'Til you end up a stain
On Insanity's name
Or break out in a rash
To pass by in a flash
All the beauty you lashed
In an effort to maim
Your eyes open wide
There is nothing to hide
You're a stupid angel
An angel, an angel alone
Such a stupid angel
Who CaresDon't make me tell you what it feels like
To give your smile to every stranger
That comes your way
Give them your laughter, stories, and tears
Maybe even a hug to brighten their day
Don't make me demonstrate
I can't explain
Don't shut me out right when I am
Trying my hardest to reach you
I'm not a tyrant of compassion; of course
You have a choice, but please
Please understand that, first and foremost
I am your friend
I am here
Don't make me cry again (my therapist says
No one can truly "make" me cry)
I am dying a little more inside, though
It sure as hell is not for me, but you
Do you really think I faked our friendship?
Do you really think I botched if up to
Turn your mood razor-sharp at the edges?
It's over (I'm a pessimist)
I'm still here (I'm an optimist)
I don't know what to do
I hurt too much than is normal
My heart is too big, too desperate
I don't know what I'm saying
You don't know what I'm saying
You don't believe I care
words travel at the speed of light
and i find myself not caring, suddenly
(though i know this feeling
won't last forever)
sometimes it feels like i'm closing
in on myself, or something's closing
in on me... either way,
how can i tell the difference?
you never told me how to
survive on my own, and here i am
falling through my many faults and
fear of high places that i created
if this is adulthood, then i want
everything back again, played over again
and this time, i'm controlling it all
don't say i'm obsessive-compulsive
never leave me alone in the dark
i started out on saints, and finished with
tiny little devils, stealing my dreams
(you're supposed to sleep without nightmares
no one told me that)
i liked to spin fairytales out of paper chains,
stringing them around my room and imagining
i saw six more colors in the rainbow
you weren't supposed to laugh
you weren't sure how to hug
it feels funny... saying
A message to the brokenYou drown yourself
in liquid sorrows,
letting the salty mess
burn your wounds,
and the sadness
to drip in your mouth,
consuming your words
and you say
you deserve the pain,
but I want to dry your face,
and whisper in your ear
how the clouds cry too,
while they hold such beauty,
and so do you.
It's Okay to be ImperfectThe moon
Stand Against SuicideI know the pain is perhaps unbearable,
But darling, please put down the blade.
Release your emotions through tears and smiles,
Rather than dreading these days.
Do it for the little girl, whose mother can’t be there,
Or for the boy whose father drank too much.
For the boy who can’t sit in elementary school,
Because the bruises from Daddy hurt to touch.
For the teenage girl lying face down in her bed,
Thinking, why can’t it all be done?
For the elderly man looking up at the stars,
Counting the days one by one.
Do it for the children who wonder, does it end?
For the ones who feel left on their own.
For the ones who think, maybe it wouldn’t be so hard
If I didn’t feel so left alone.
And finally, do it for one other person,
The person in front of these words.
Because you’ll never know how it gets better
When focusing on pain and hurt.
Live one more day, dear, for them and for you,
And I swear to you, problems will fade.
I know, for right now, it’s p
Clear WristA clear wrist, barren of scars,
as opposed to skin sauntered in marks,
tells a trickier story than it's soiled and raw,
uncaring, unkempt counter part.
Bravery, I think it holds,
the strength to bare unimaginable loads
of pain and suffering through endless times,
and withstanding the agony of sleepless nights.
Some think it is fear, the reluctance to cut,
but I believe it opposite, it show courage and guts.
To bear your pain without a nick on your wrist,
is like a solider braving his terrain while being torn limb from limb.
Agonizing as it is, to hide your pain,
you do it so well, and no attention you'll gain.
At the end of the day, it's not cry for attention,
rather a cry for the victory that's silently mentioned.
Your scars are those not self inflicted,
and despite the gnawing intention,
to harm yourself and ease your pain,
the scars you earn are rightfully gained.
In a room of those who have jumped the gun,
and left traces of blood deep in their arms,
do not be tempted to do the sam
dark circlesi haven't slept well in 14 days
my eyes droop pretty colors
'50 shades of purple and grey,
they're bags and they're designer'
making jokes is how i cope
with chapped lips and constant chap-stick
it tastes like honey and mint
i laugh and say i'm addicted.
hooded lids and sleepy smiles
during lunch at subway
my friends ask if I'm okay
I say that I'm just tired.
but really when I see him with her
my heart sinks to the tiles
she's pretty and witty and sure as hell she can sing
and i'm just a loud bone-collector.
when I see her with him,
dancing and laughing and grinning,
the ring on her finger
laughs at my singularity.
for as much as i lie and as much as i try
my loneliness still creeps in,
because no matter how much they protest,
i'm still the lowly fifth-wheel.
walking behind them on sidewalks
that are wide, but built for four
smiles and laughs when they look back
but the frown creeps evermore.
pelvis peaks through paper-thin skin
and knuckles white and pale
my ribs are empty, my bo
I Thought I Needed FeminismI thought I needed feminism, when I was a little girl.
And I am very sad to admit, that this wasn't very long ago.
I thought when he held the door open for me, that he was making a big mistake.
That he was being a pompous ass, and he took my strength for a fake.
And when he offered to pay my tab, I still called him an ass.
Because I thought he assumed I was poor, and below middle class.
Or when his hard work earned him a promotion,
yet I did nothing, and the boss' ignorance to promote me, I believed was a sexist notion.
My friend really wanted feminism when she found her ex-dead drunk,
removed his clothes, and without his consent, had a pleasurable fuck.
When her parents bust into the room unexpected that night,
she said he raped her, and he was arrested without so much as a fight.
Perhaps feminism was there when I walked out into the street in pure nudity,
and shouted the my neighbors “You have no right to judge me!”
I didn't care about the children who were standing in th
What is that eye?
Staring at me with her
Crude, formless lips
Encased in silver blood
While the trees bore me up
On writhing limbs
And played tag with my soul
They held me up
Bore me up
To that sister, that dark twin
And I fell
Head over heart
Into the iris where
My screams stained it blue
What is that eye?
Staring at me with a
Lost, yearning gaze
Deformed beyond a tear
"Please don't," she cried
And I turned away
A Bloody, Stupid Miracle The day we’d cured the human condition was the day I put a bullet through my head and didn’t die. It was also the day I realized how scared I actually was of death, and after hours of muscle ache from holding that gauze against my open skull, after the wound closed and everything went back to normal, I had myself a good old-fashioned brainstorm. How ironic.
But when summer came, everything had fallen to shit. The air scorched my skin and parched my tongue every time I took a breath. The sun glared down on a rapidly-collapsing world, full of the undying bastard children of cruelty and misfortune. What was one to do when their cells regenerated faster than they decomposed?
My feet hit the pavement, now littered with jagged bits of glass to snap at my toes, thoroughly baked by the blazing ball of bitter disdain high overhead. Today was worse than yesterday. Though I’d often wondered the purpose of it anymore, I
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