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RandomChains bound me down
Rusting by my demon
I am restless
Good always clouded my judgment
Restricting my freedom, my love
It never got me happiness,
My chains lay there now, just shackles remain.
It's alright, my love is free
My sin is righteous
I love with no guard
I am not me that good defined
I am my demon, burning with the fires of hell
My Icy eyes reflect the passion I have
I take my pleasure
It only took a demon to show me
I love him.
Nightmare come true.She stood there laughing. She was so happy, in so much joy! I'm stuck here. Sam has taken Sarah away somewhere safe. They got outside, I'm sure. I wish they didn't leave me alone with her. Oh god, where the hell did she get an ax?
I have to run! I have to get away from her. Where is there to go? Why won't the door unlock? Oh god, why am I so scared? I have to keep her away! I'm going to die. The Pain! Oh god, she stabbed me. I'm bleeding. It hurts. So much pain.
Did the window just shatter? Sarah? The light is so pretty when it dances off the shards. Sarah, why are you grabbing me? Get away from here!
My arms hurt, there is glass in them. I bleed so easily. I am outside. Sam? I'm scared. We are running from her. Why can't we get away from her? I'm so tired. I can't keep up. Sam, I'm sorry.
Behind the houses? Of Course! She will find us. Sam, I can't see. Is she near? Why are you blocking me? Why are you putting me i
PearlI am a pearl you say;
Pure beauty that is formed naturally.
Worth so much you destroy my safety
Just to get me.
I see the flaws inside of me;
I must shave off my outer shell to get them.
So sharp are your words
I been listening.
So why are you so mad?
I tried to get those blemishes out
To make myself that perfect pearl you see.
I see more, more doubt.
I cut a little more, making me smaller.
My worth is falling.
But now I am blemish free,
A true beautiful jewel.
All that is left of me are the shreds of my dignity.
Drown in emotionsRum and Coke to float my boat
Down the river of tears.
I hang them in my tree
My many bottles of beers.
I feel liberated with each sip
Floating up into the sky.
No more sadness, no more pain
Just void and ready to die.
Nothing holds me here to this life
My body bubbles over and I cry
False happiness going to fast!
I feel like I need to die.
Poem of sortsEmpty is the world,
Cold is the air around me,
Silent is the wind that blows.
Lonely my heart whispers,
A steady beat to an unfinished song,
Waiting for your lyrics.
I wait for my turn,
The sun shining on me,
A false warmth.
Trees grow around me,
Shading me from you,
I waited far too long.
I return to the Earth,
Warmth all around,
Churning and moving.
My heart now beats with your footsteps,
Your lyrics move my ocean of tears,
Your breath spurs my winds.
JealousyAs I walked up the porch I could feel the hatred seeping under the storm door.Like cold daggers pricking at my skin. I braced myself with my biggest smile and walked up to the glass. Traci glared at me as she tried to slam the front door close. I pushed back with force and she went stumbling into the Christmas tree, a symbol of forgiveness that she hated.
I yelled gleefully to Grandma as I walk past Traci into the living room. I hugged the wise old woman as I heard Traci clamber to her boyfriend demanding hugs and clinching onto his arm. Poor creature. I explained how my fortune has taken a toll for the better since I left the house. More daggers on my back.
Grandma escorted me upstairs to where the rest of my belongings laid. The Chihuahua and the Shelti following my every move. I miss the Cuddle Bugs and they miss me. I could hear Traci calling for them both from downstairs, they stuck at my heels. I do believe I should be bleeding from the hatred I feel. I gathered my stuff and chit
When Home Becomes a Prison (Strength)When your pillow is no longer the fresh place to lay your emaciated spirit
But is now the chain on the ball that is your bed.
When a door is no longer the entrance to a retreat from the world
But a metaphorical lock keeping you ensconced, never stepping foot out into it.
When windows suddenly become looking glasses that never break,
Just heckle you with what you're missing in their transparent prisons.
A token of what you used to be in the faces of the people walking passed.
The people who pay no note to you;
Who have no inclination of what they are; the symbols of your long-ago life.
The sharp splinters of nostalgia that just glimpsing upon their face sends into your heart.
Every time they walk their dog,
You grimace because you cannot walk long enough to do the same for yours.
Constant reminders in everything everyone does in everywhere you go
of the things you are losing without control.
You clutch and grasp while slipping into sliding as you clasp onto what is left o
Dear JamesI placed a candle on the water for you today. It flickered and floated and gathered with candles of other losses; fathers, friends – whoever. It was as hard as letting you go; if that candle drifted away from me then would I lose you again? When they scooped the candle from the water and your flame went out who would remember that I honoured you? So I took your candle from the water and placed it into my bag. Not because I can’t let you go but because I want to remember. I will light that candle to remember you on special days.
James darling, I missed you more today than any other. I know I will miss you more again at Christmas, on your birthday and on the day you died. You are an angel but you are still with me – in the heart covered by the tattoo of your name. The ink came from within, seeping up through my skin and not down.
I am grateful for the two sonograms I have of you, yet part of me yearns to know what your face would have looked like. Would you have his thi
SaturdaysBrought into this world on a rainy Saturday morning
No memories of the years that follow
Until the pain
Eyes of a beast
Tears of a child
Walls subconsciously building to keep the child safe
But are the walls for safety or containment
Blood and bone breaking
Screaming into the night
Hidden Language"Is he ok?"
Is he alive?
"Is he alright?"
Is he breathing?
"Is he sleeping?"
Is he dead...?
DreamsDreams are merely dreams...but sometimes they reflect your deepest desires, don't they?
He stole my breath away.
He was a stunning being, a mix of a man that I could not easily describe to you. With ebony-black hair and stormy gray eyes, he captured my heart in an instant. At times he would tower over me, lovingly, his presence nearing mine, and I could feel the warmth from his body.
"Sometimes I wish I could just steal a smile from you," he murmured easily. "Write you a love poem. Give you roses. I want to love you like love from the past."
I blinked, and smiled slightly back at his beautiful face. "Why the past?"
He shrugged, then he stared at me defiantly, with the Mexican pride I knew so well. "Love from even a generation ago, it was different. An innocent love, a subtle, tender thing that was cultured from a simple fire. And it grew into a tremendous passion, showing a respect of sorts. I want to show you that I love you, not just tell you. I want to appreciate you, respect you
12-12-98... I hate this date.
I loathe it.
Words cannot explain.
But I'll try my best any way.
Try as I might, this memory will never go away.
I've cried; tried to drown my tears until there was no more left. I ate. I starved. I ran. I slept.
Nothing could make me forget that terrible date. 12-12-98.
You may think it's something like, "Oh, maybe her parents said they had to work on Christmas. Jeez. It happens." Yeah, that's what most people say to me when I say I hate this date. It's different though. I lost someone important to me. My father.
I've never heard him speak. To say my name. To yell at me when I've done something bad.
I never got the chance to call him Dad. Nor will I ever.
I will never embrace him, just as my half-siblings do to their father. I guess they've been deprived too, but they'll see him again. But I've never seen my dad. All I have is a collection of pictures and stories from relatives. My mom gave me a small box filled with notes they used to pass back and forth d
Lonely ChristmasThe clock ticked
It mocked me
As I sat there
For them to come
For you to come
But how can you?
You've passed away
But I still wait
On this silent Christmas day
Stay or Leave?"Don't get mad. I don't like it."
"Don't cry. I don't like it."
"Don't be sad. I don't like it."
"Don't smile. I don't like it."
"Don't laugh. I don't like it"
"Don't be you. I don't like it"
Then what am I supposed to do?
Then who am I?
You're saying you don't like me.
But you stay with me.
To change me into someone else
So that I don't exist anymore
I'm tired of it
I'm tired of changing
But I don't stop
I'm able to but I don't
Because you are the only one left
If you're gone,
I'll be left behind
All over again
But if you stay
I won't exist
But it wouldn't matter anyways.
Talking to myselfI wonder so many things.
Why these walls I have seem to never break.
They tower over my life like armor chain links.
You can only see through them, but can never go through them.
Maybe something is wrong with me mentally.
That I am unable to build relationships.
To actually care about someone.
With out thinking of the outcome for myself.
Why I want to be normal.
To feel what you feel.
To be human.
But I am not.
I feel like a robot.
Just calculating my response to the situation.
When something sad happens I am not sad.
I cry because I am supposed to.
When I am mad I am not really mad.
Just frustrated because I can not feel.
So when will I be normal?
And feel the right emotions?
Crown of ThornsShe wakes up with red staining her pillow
and the taste of blood like iron in her mouth
It stains her teeth and leaks from her lips, and as she
rinses her mouth out, she can’t help thinking that
it’s better than dirt and ashes
it feels like she’s wearing a noose
of broken promises and shattered glass
that tightens around her throat with every day that passes
She nails a smile to her face
and doesn't let herself think the word dying
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