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ButcherMeat before your knife
Skinned and waiting to be sliced
Hoping you will cut me down instead of up.
With strokes both careless and precise
The blood - the blood that stains your knife
I would have given you my life,
But you have taken more.
Rosemary For RemembranceHer hands in the water
She re members the freck le s o n his
As th e wo r d s d ra g h e r
Get t he e to a n u n n er y
G E T T H E E T O A N U N N E R Y
BelovedI should be stronger for you Dear,
Not dieing in the darkness here,
Rotting from the inside out
Devoured by my fear.
I'de be a shining star for you,
A broken satellite
Burning off her energy
To guide you through the night,
But all I do is gaurd the gate
And keep its doors thrown wide
In hopes you will return to me
While darkness slips inside.
And how it storms the parapets
And shakes my every stone
and echoes through my hallways,
Child, you are so alone.
You are waiting for a ghost
that will not come again.
Nothing is outside your walls,
And Nothings coming in.
Are you a prisoner or a fool
Who stays yet trembles so,
Cloistered in these crubling walls
Unable to let go?
For cowardice we mock you.
Upon your strength we feed,
And if you hear his cries outside
You should not pay them heed,
For they are nothing but the wind
That whistles in the still,
And if your house is empty,
Then we are here to fill.
And if your heart is heavy,
Then we can take that too.
There's lots of things
P.S.Swan feathers brushing
Pink lemonade stratosphere,
Pallid moon mirroring
A smeared staring sun,
As Fenrir snarls and stretches,
Slinking silently skyward.
I do not mind the feeling of icy water
In the morning on dry, chapped hands,
The scrubbing of bowls and pots with sand
In the pale autumn light.
These are the clean discomforts of life lived,
And sun warmed stones and star soaked nights can make amends
Say amen to the prayers that such days could last forever.
But I am answered never never again.
And there the knife sinks deep
As the past is waked from sleep,
Defiant and pounding its fists in anger
But the leaves of today leave concern from their color,
As bright with me as without they do not dignify my dolor
With pity for the memory
Of what makes one day full and one day empty.
"Fool," they say "All things must die in time,"
And so I stand stripped bare beneath the sky,
Inhaling wood smoke wafting in the wind,
And feel all Nature's life come to an end.
Path of lifeLife is a dangerous path
Full of twists and traps
A path we're forced to walk
Without turning back
We may regret the past
We may regret the mistakes
But we must learn from them
And keep moving on
We may predict the future
And even fear it
But we never know
What happens next
The only thing we have
Is the present, here and now
So let's live it
And forget about the rest
The mistakes of the past
The mysteries of the future
All part of life
This path we all walk
wordless they succumbAnd they fell -
just like that.
Just like the act of breathing;
soundless and inevitable.
Like an eager girl slipping
straps from her shoulders,
the soft crush of silk at her feet.
We Have No TimeAll we have
Is a sliver
Everything we will
Do in life
We all die before we know it
Its a fact of life
And I am already dying
A slow painful death
One year at a time
One month at a time
One week at a time
One day at a time
Then we flatline
On a metal sheet
Buried in the dirt
To think we were born yesterday
Only to die tomorrow
Winter's GirlI was winter's girl,
frozen under a thick layer of ice.
People tried to break it with their ice picks, but to no avail.
They eventually left me cold and in pieces in my frozen abyss.
You're thawing me out, slowly but surely.
"Summer girls aren't for me, "you say.
"Too full of sick strawberry sweetness."
That was just said to comfort me, but it oddly worked.
Maybe time with you will make me a summer girl,
no more need for thawing,skating with you above my ice.
WonderlandWhen I was little, I knew Wonderland.
Logic was faulty and rules were no more.
Up was down; down was up.
That was how it constantly was.
Fish swam in the air and drowned in water.
Worries were small and dreams were big.
One fell up until they reached the clouds,
Which were then used for soft beds and pillows.
Gender was an unnoticed trait.
Everyone was blind.
Everyone could see.
There were no expectations to uphold.
I was happy.
Then I woke up-or fell asleep-
Into a world with war and prejudice and plague.
I wondered then, and I do now…
Was Wonderland not the real world?
to the girl with the razors in her back pocket,stop. turn around. i understand you,
and i understand the sadness
entrenched in your bones. i understand
the late nights spent in anxious prayer
to the towels, to the creaky floorboard
just outside your parents' room, to the sink
that stains too easily. i understand
the catastrophic glances that people throw you
when you open your mouth and try
to belong. i understand the intense moments
spent in dressing rooms splicing together outfits
that will gracefully sweep past tally-marked wrists and ankles
and hopefully make sense in the dead of summer.
i understand the nights that you carve the emptiness
onto the razor and wonder if it wouldn't be better
to just die tonight instead. no one can be angry...
or disappointed...or judgmental...or sympathetic (because
sometimes forced empathy is the worst)...when you
no longer exist. it just stops. and anything
has to be better than this.
well, you're right about one thing. it does
get better. and not in that corny way
people tell you. you won't se
ViolinI remember the day
you told me violins
were strung with cat gut
and that is why
you hated music
(who says that to a child?)
I followed you
all that summer.
I watched you
grow away from mother -
your whiskey held better conversations
and all she did was cry.
We'd sit cross-legged on the porch
and count the horseflies
settling on our lunch.
You would drown tadpoles
in a bucket
surprised they could not swim
and I would dream
of cherry popsicles.
And when night would gather
on the sidewalk
I'd hold my breath
until a star appeared.
Don't bother making wishes
you'd tell me -
stars are dead weight in heaven
and God has cloth ears.
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