Dear Poetry,I am trying to cover my sadness with words.Tape them against my scars& wear them like worthy paper cuts. My tears are alcohol swabs, burning & cleansingwounds of my own making. Sometimes,I wish I could hide behind them forever.But not even this journeyed flesh can standcastle strong against speechless ink stains.I know the code. This body does not deservea warriors death. & poetry, you're a monstera creative monster, but evil nonetheless.I wish to string you into knots, force feed youdown the throats of others. De-format you& leave you empty; freeversed-to hang loosely along the heartstringsof strangers, & past lovers.We are the perfect poster children forbattered homes, aren't we poetry?The dysfunctional coupleblack-eyed and angry love.You can't protect me from myself forever.
My Masquerade~My Masquerade~For the world I am displayed;They always watch but cannot seethrough my masquerade.I feel every moment fly;My heart is beating, pulse racing,breath held as I lie.My innocence I can't defend;I know that surely this will linger'til my very end.I brought this all upon myself;Mask upon mask, lie upon lielike valueless wealth.Dare I take these masks off no!My former self haunts meeverywhere I go.False glory, false honor, false fame;With all these masks I seem to haveforgotten my own name.
Aura: The ResparkAura: The ResparkI, the sheltered child who started to tragically fall from your graceInto the void of this sudden lonelinessRealizing I followed every single one of your stepsBut yet, I failed to hold onto those uplifting momentsNow I feel as if maybe I had forced you to make every one of those promisesThat which you still keptSo I don't want to sound dishonest, but out of us, you are the strongestYou make sure to protectTo you, everyone, and everything is dearestNone left to neglectBut with all of that, you take on those heavy burdensAnd try your bestCalling out your name into the nothingnessForgetting about the peace you bestowed upon meI guess it's just too hard to be away from
GlareA little girlborn into a broken world.A smirk on her face, death in her eyes,her facade in place, but inside she Cries.Beyond the surface of apathy,she lies in hopeless agony,daring you to question her roleSuch cruelty came froma crushed soul.She walks among the strongwith the world on her shoulders.Innocence went so wrong when Hatred made it colder.And thus the light becameCorrupted,her dreams crushed by a weight she shouldn't bearWhen Innocence is interruptedall that's left isher maliciousglare.
PrettiesPretty face,Beautiful body.Fresh look,At the turning age.Surged eyes,Sleek hair.Completely perfect,Minds all the same.Bubbly thoughts,Fake emotions.One goal,To be in control.
constellations, ambitions, and things in betweeninstead of poetry,i want to live inthe stars;nestled betweendraco & orion,wrapped in nebulae.oxygen is toosuffocating. iwant to breathe ingalaxies.neither the godsnor my demons canstop me —i will make the universemy own.
What they told youThey tell you "You are broken"They tell you "You can not be"They tell you "You are a disgrace to the human race"They tell you "You are blasphemy"They tell you "You are not alive"They tell you "You can not love as much as us"They tell you "You are confused"They tell you "You are sick"They tell you "You were hurt"They tell you "You are missing out"They tell you "You are faking"They tell you "You are a freak"They tell you "You are inhuman"They tell you "You are just young"They tell you "You are just old"They tell you of your "woes"They tell you "You are not like us"You tell yourself "Of course not, I know I am none of those"
-sexuals don't-Heterosexuals don't blink.(Because they want to see the world,But they are blind by their ownBlinding light and it doesn'tMatter.)Homosexuals don't swear.(Because, as said by others, their GodRefused them and abused them,So who can they swear toNow?)Bisexuals don't dance.(Because no matter what song plays,They can't hear it as they haveAlready filled their ears withCotton.)Polysexuals don't feel.(Because what is there to feelWhen every single emotionIs against you in everyWay?)Pansexuals don't breathe.(Because the air is thick with smokeFrom fires of oppression and ofDepression and so theyChoke.)Demisexuals don't pray.(Because why pray to someone whoHas ignored you countless timesWhen you wish these peopleAway?)Asexuals don't smile.(Because what is there to smileAbout when the whole world isReady to throw you to theWolves?)
You should never attack a poet,we are the best at exploiting weakness.the night you took a scalpel to my chest& fed my heart to the stars,you told me i could hate youif i needed to.with an exorcismi tried to cast you outof my body. i was contorted limbs:the language of tonguestrying to find myselfin the cosmosof lit kerosene fingertips,& the kinds of habitsthat only choke me at 3am -when my eyes aren’t yet heavyenough for sleep;my mind tells me to do awful things.between fucking &i-don’t-know-who-i-am-anymore,you are the caloriesin the mathematical equationscribbled & scratched outof me.i think of shy moonsand i don’t eat for three days.admit it;you only liked mewhen this poetic tonguelicked complimentsup & downyour scars. but,space shrapnel aside-you’re too far down nowfor even the starsto graph you into their maps.
Live Wireit's run downthis part, this minethe smoke came outproducing cloudsno fret, no fearconstructions nearcompleted seerto see things clearby cogwheels emergingit's sentience disturbingno bloodworkjust live wire