Lock my unspoken words in a box

Bury those poems and comments I never posted

Stitch my lips and break my pen

Because I can't bear to make art anymore.

My chest is bound to explode

With all the broken hearts I've shoved inside,

Skin ready to burst to the pressure I've built

Eyes long gone, hollow squirming sockets,

Bare and grotesque

Carved by years of held back salt and tears,

Form morphed and twisted

By sliver-sized silver scars and ragged time past.

Perhaps I finally realise how foolish I am,

Incompetence blaring under my shiny veneer

Fashioned out of white-lies and 'creative story-telling'

A fragile porcelain shell

That hides a writhing monstrosity beneath.

Nothing but the gush of blood and a laboured breath,

Hoping to quench its thirst for its voice to be heard,

No matter how unremarkable or redundant it is. 

That it the animal I am. 

Stranger

It was as if

It had never happened

Nothing at all

Happened between us

As if I had never

Chatted with you

On long nights

Until the morning

It was as if

We had never shared

Any hobbies

As if we had never

Went on any trips together

If you pass by in the streets

You hardly acknowledge me

As if we’ve never 

Seen each other

Almost like we were

Strangers

*claps* lovely poem

~Love is unconscious

Apparently

Because even though I’m safe in your embrace

I won’t always be

Although I’m here just as ever I’ve been

And not for days do ours split ways

The soon separation wears me thin

And I can’t bear to leave your gaze

As if eyes and mind were a blanket one creates

Upon another lonely soul

And some feel scratchy and thin but yours

In yours I’ve always felt whole

I’ve never wanted to leave this place

As much as I do

And I’ve never wanted so much to stay

And be lost in you

Once I’ve climbed the highest mountain

I ever will, ahead of me

I’m far away still, beyond myself

Lost in reverie, with you

That’s how I’ve come to conclude

Love is unconscious, I guess?

Because even when my mind’s asleep

My heart will never rest~

I'm tired.

Tired of everything,

And on the verge of collapse. 

My friends cry about impending seperation

Parting our ways, experiencing change.

I can't wait to be gone.

I may be unable to sprout wings and fly

To a secluded paradise

But anything is better than this inferno.

I like to think I hide it well

All the broken edges that want to stick out,

The goop and gore and raw truth no one wants to see.

It's funny how many people have to go through this.

It's a wonder so many perservere.

I envy those who live free of such things.

I feel for those who don't.

We are such battered, pitiful things;

All glass and paper and flesh. 

Blood pours out, making us all

Nothing more than a breathe

Away from the edge. 

Memories: Lies

A Haiku! :D

Cirrus Clouds

Great bird of the blue

Spread your pretty plumes of white

All across the sky

there is something so tragic about the feeling of fading

as if the colors in my mind are becoming bleached

and there is no cure for the changing of hues;

as if the spark in my soul that burned a fire to light an eager path 

is flickering, flickering and sputtering out into nothing at all;

as if my pockets were not full of the pieces of love from the minds of those around me

as if the sun did not shine across the honeyed edges of the joyful, malleable clouds

as if my head were not full of questions, like what if humans harvested the magic that grew all around them, and the people who felt most alone could find the solutions that mattered most to the world, and why would the stars smile upon us and cradle us from the very beginning of our lives if we were destined to feel nothing at all?

may the colors around me lend me the boldness to renew my own,

and may the lights along the endless trails guide me back to my roaring flame,

and may the love and sun and endless beauty fill me up once more;

for my fingers long to feel the rough edges of the unknown and unbound earth

and my mind longs to rest with the answers it has always held. 

may i never be too faded to cease to wish for my renewal,

for there is something in me that must know and be known

in order to find rest.