i want someone to hurt me, to violate me and destroy me. i want someone to kill me, someone to mess me up so that my body matches my heart. these desires, they're all wrong, aren't they? but it's fine. i'm filthy, so i need to be cleansed. i want to show the world the hate and the dirt trapped inside of me. i feel so disgusting. i hate this. i hate this. kill me.
feel free to ignore this post
i must've been high on depression
She is my poetry
She is my poetry in the flesh
Beautiful lines with curves that flow
My perfect page to write my words
With my tongue and my quill
Letters spill upon her from my lips
Withe each kiss
Then I write my sonnets of passion
On her secret garden so sweet
Hearing the poems of her lust
She then takes the quill
And writes her own song
I got drunk off my tears
I let the salt trickle down my throat
and burn the callused wounds in my heart
it burned like gasoline but the feeling left me peaceful better than alcohol.
I doused the bottle down my throat and swallowed my pain.
I went to the cupboard and grabbed a cup
and twisted out my handkerchief and let the tears hit the bottle
I let them fall
too fast and they shatter
Now I am mess and drunk
and spilling over with guilt
this was just accident
I didn't mean for it happen
I just was drinking to get out of my head
I love how my mouth is left dry aching with pain
But the salt tastes so good
so why stop?
They say: "salt heals all wounds"
I am just trying to cover the wound in my heart.
Carved candle light
could not illuminate
the shadowed floor
of the well of my desire:
I am emptiness.
My hunger wants to pass you
and everything else
through the eye of my needle.
On the myth of sustained satisfaction:
Siddhartha says put aside your desire.
Mine is beside me,
a twin grown full form:
all arms clutching and legs leading
eyes rolling madly between all beautiful things.
I am a flytrap unfed, closing in on itself.
The bad days
If innocence were a river, then I was never allowed to go swimming. I was pulled back by the hair before I ever had a chance to dive in. I never felt the icy water kiss my burning flesh.
Unable to be pulled from depths I was never allowed to venture into, I was confined to the beach. Only able to view the kids who played jubilantly in the shallows. I often imagined what it would be like to be one of them, but I never got the chance to properly imagine the freedom they were afforded. My mind would be brought back to more horrific things. More realistic things.
As we walked home I would glance back at the beach until it left my sight, and as the sun set I would listen as loving parents called out to their children, interrupting their blissful foolishness to notify them that it was their turn to go home.
If innocence were a household, I was never invited inside. I was always left standing on the doormat. That welcome mat would be the closest that I would ever get to being invited into a place so comfortable. I would never feel the warmth of the fireplace that burned inside, and the flavor of the food that had been cooking all evening would never touch my tongue.
I often looked through the window and watched children eat with their families, and talk about the trivial things that they found exciting, and I would imagine what it was that they said before being pulled away from the window by my hair. At my own house there was no food as reality was forced down my throat.
If innocence were a person, I never got to meet her. She was a kind lady, and I gazed dreamily as she interacted with the other children that I saw. I would watch as she read stories to those children, and I would feel envy when she laughed at the jokes they told.
When I passed by her, I would wave and I would pull a smile back across my face, but of all the times I saw her, she never noticed me. I would turn my head to look behind me as she walked passed. I would watch her wave to the child that walked behind me before having my head twisted back around, the grip of a firm hand pulling at my hair.
I would listen to the child's laughter, and then her own as we walked in the opposite direction. I looked up at the face to which the hand that held mine belonged, but no smile was afforded to me, no attention at all.
One day, I saw her again, though. This time the interaction I saw her partaking in wasn't as joyful as I had come to expect. She was with a young, weeping child and as I walked by I heard her comforting him. But the words she uttered were not meant to benefit the boy, as every single syllable that left her mouth had been a lie.
fragile like a thread
unraveling in the hand of the child
an absent-minded lick of a lollipop
a carelessly handshake of a stranger
an innocent curl of hair with her finger
she slapped a stick of lipstick to her mouth
a curious look in the mirror
and an innocent slip of the finger into the throat
Innocent eyes glamorized picture books, Elmer's glue trickled onto her skin.
Scissors slowly reached the paper but turned to her skin.
Slowly the mirror in her room was replaced with a mirage.
The dolls in her room became her idols they were put onto her shelves instead of her doll house.
She used to play with her Ipad but now she plays with the scale.
She slowly drags in the cigar smoke dragging in from the neighbor boy's coat and soon drags the smell to her lips and blows it out.
Her innocence slipped away from her as quickly as she would slip her clothes from her shoulders.
A man walked up to her and pointed to her body and said you my dear are worth a shiny copper penny and she responded my fathers use to give me pennies for candy at the penny store and dragged a liquor bottle to her lips and fell into his hands.
Her innocence trailed behind her like lost a puppy.
She tried to hold on to it with her pinky.
Her eyes lost its shine
Her smile lost its luster
and then she was nothing but a penny.
Everything I touch turns to dust,
so hold me close, hold me tight,
dry my tears, kiss me if you must,
love me, give me a reason to fight,
No one is around, nobody cares
enough to notice, to see, the pain,
I've heard them all, all the swears,
none are meant, so please refrain,
Everything I want doesn't matter,
I will never find it in this place,
my heart, broken, cannot shatter,
agony hidden behind my face,
so wrap your arms around me,
and pretend that you love me.
Fifteen Years Removed
He called me Alice.
Twenty years my senior
He worked the frostbite
Out of my boot
And his charisma
To the highest mountain
Playing hooky to ski and
Wrapped in our sales
And in a fantastical sweep
Our babies were born
But he left
His good looks behind
Coupled with time and
I have to forgive you
For getting lost in
Your chaotic reality
Missing the best parts
Of what we shared
In their given names of
Olivia and Dominic.