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Lesbian EyesI will not bother to introduce myself -
seeing as you're certain of my identity:
"Lesbian Eyes!" You grab my attention
and strangle my pride
along with everything else which I keep inside.
Perhaps it's my colourful ways which confuse you all:
blinded by my flair.
My monochromatic closet is my hideaway;
it is waiting for my to escape its wooden walls someday.
New season: new shades.
I should indulge my gay flesh with flamboyant colours
to hide my shame
and mask that almost unbearable pain.
Don't let me breathe on you
or you’ll catch my disease!
It will smoulder your souls and intoxicate your mind -
it may make you even more blind.
For already you can’t see that we’re the same;
as hard as it may be to believe…
we live in the same world, absorb the same air,
and how you label me is unfair.
I am not a lesbian. Did you make that judgement too?
unwrappednow i need something else
to keep the cold away
for your arms aren't wrapped around me anymore
and my nerves and veins are
blood rushing to my head while i
try to think again:
the emptiness has affected my brain
my tongue is tied to itself;
it misses yours
and my lips have stuck together;
no need to part...
i am falling
your arms aren't wrapped around me anymore;
my pieces are crumbling
like a broken vase.
a new crack appears every time you enter my mind -
unwanted. sent to a charity shop.
waiting for someone with the correct glue
to take me;
to seal the open wounds
of wear and carelessness.
DisillusionPerished yet cherished:
her green eyes of envy
smoulder under his spell.
Attempting to see
whether he feels the same -
they just cannot tell.
Blurred and blinded:
punished for prying
into his concealed mind.
An unpleasant disillusion
and a hopeless heap
of memories left behind.
it isn't like i loved it or anything like that.we wrapped ourselves in our candy floss dream; perfect
entwining of souls, smelling the sweet success
in our sights. we laughed as our eyes clouded over with the sickly intimacy
that decayed my heart.
who would have thought that one bite would
tear us apart?
Demon of the DeepI may be invisible, but I am there;
listening to every word you say.
I hear you cry 'I DON'T CARE!',
and I find myself wishing there were another way.
Lurking in the deep...
a mysterious monster which consumes fears.
I watch you whilst you sleep
and shed my evil tears.
You touch me.
Your fingers cool my burning desire:
I cannot even begin to believe
that you are such a beautiful liar.
The useless tears which you weep
awaken me from my everlasting sleep.
chronic.persistence is cruel
as it invades your inner self...
if my memory serves me correctly
you played peek-a-boo at night
behind my eyelids.
in the end i expected your surprise.
the status quo suffers from
obsessive compulsive disorder.
recurring decimals in my head.
i try to figure out
why each number slices my nerves
and donates them to the blackboard.
make the chalk crumble like broken bones.
i'm trying to break the habit of cracking my knuckles.
Seeing You AgainWhat an unfortunate pity.
I have to gaze at the insipid man opposite me:
the one I'll despise until my demise;
the one with the thin lips and squinting eyes.
You meet my blatant stare of disgust;
and then look away with utter distrust.
It's about time you know how it feels
to be apart of no one's appeal.
You feel as if you're treading on hot coal
as you witness the renewal of my soul.
It was your choice for it to be this way;
for us to not have spoken until this day.
You do nothing but curse and lie
as you try to hide away from the stalking sky.
The truth shouts louder than you can bare,
now you realise who's REALLY been unfair.
So please, let me offer a warm embrace!
To get me close enough to punch your face
and then let me ask you why...
why you had to say goodbye.
My Cup and SpoonMy bed must be split in half. I roll out
either side - I must decide who I am each day.
We sat together in the kitchen. You were pretty, I thought. But they say that everyone is beautiful to me.
I stirred with my spoon and you drank from my cup.
I placed them in the sink and began to wash up.
Clean as they seemed, you stared.
Scrub harder, you said, as hard as you dare.
My silver spoon shone bright like the star you are: my cup needed drying. The china cautiously cracked.
So you took me to bed and said, stare into my eyes. You traced my map with your finger.
My spoon reflected your breasts and my cup was full.
I laid in the middle of the bed - waiting to be in thrall.
And then he came and joined us. Together we found France and Lesbos.
A Razor's WordsDon't worry little girl
I'm not so far
I'm just beside your cold empty bed
I'm between the papers of your private book inside your dresser
You never forget me
I know you think of me constantly
You know you want me
You always hide me in the dark
And keep me in the silence
Because you don't want nobody to know about me
Or about our bloody secret
You know you want to take me
You hear me calling for you
You like my sound when I fall on the ground like the fine steel I am
You want me to give you pain I know
Just pick me up
I will be gentle, slip softly
And fast, you won't feel the hard pain
You know you want to feel me cutting under each thin layer of your skin
Fill your filthy desire with me
I'm shiny with odd shape
Rusty with rotten blood stains on my edges
Sharp and all you want to comfort your dead soul with
Don't be scared, for all you want is to feel numb
And I can make you feel good and lost
As you are always walking confused in your own dark and cloudy
TimeI want a tattoo of a clock
so maybe I can keep
some of the time
I have lost.
The hands will not move,
nor will it chime,
to reveal the seconds
passing me by.
You Gave Me A StarLast night you gave me a star
A resplendent little light
You made it a surprise
Hiding it behind your thumb all night
So I wouldn't notice
The new twinkle
In our night's sky
"Without further ado"
You whispered to me
As you showed me
Our own little island
In a sea of darkness and wonder.
"Make a wish"
you smiled bashfully
"Its your star after all"
And I wished
I wished a million times
On that tiny light
That one day
I might be able to give you
All the stars in our sky.
Borderlined Once Too OftenDear Doctor,
I am not a pile of bones,
worn grey and yellowed
with the stains of this disease--
is a better plan than
an uncertaintity of pills;
(I won't even begin
to berate you for judging-
you'll get yours one day
when perhaps you'll learn
a label is a tool
instead of a weapon);
was never meant to mean
Sincerely, your patient
heretic.admired & afar,
his beauty became a childlike caricature
of his defiantly devious demeanour.
euphoric ecstasy found its feathers, flying him
'til gravity grounded gushes of his history on my helpless hips,
his insanity insistent on injecting juvenile judgments into my kingdom,
killing love & leaving lust,
as malleable memories manoeuvre my mind
near never-ending nausea.
oh, other-worldly oppression,
please place me at peace!
a qualm quickens the riot rising in the rosebud refuge of my ribcage,
sand spreading through the time-glass
underneath the vile vagrant with wicked wings,
wanting water in xerarch.
yes, i yowl, yes
shedding skini read somewhere
that our cells regenerate
every seven years
old ones die
and new parts bloom
and it’s now impossible
for me to be the person
i was ten years ago
no matter how much
i long for the ease of those
because that girl who
hunched over notebooks
in crowded trains
or behind backstage curtains
doesn’t exist any more
so i have to just be
this person now
one my seven-years-ago-self
probably would have loved to be
because she believed
i’d have known how to
after seven years of shedding skin
pity none of those
included a user guide
an update manual
because i feel just as clueless
as my fourteen-years-ago-self
and no matter how many stories
my mother regales of that
i can never again connect
with the way she saw the world
disorder"mirror, mirror, on the wall
who's the fairest of them all?"
i whispered to my doleful reflection,
but this was no fairy tale:
this was a small town on a cold, foggy night.
my skeleton was so beautiful
i wanted to showcase it,
give onlookers a glimpse of my impending
death through my very flesh.
i could picture myself, edges carved away
like a cored apple.
i just wanted to feel real.
everyone around me chewed and swallowed so easily
but i just gnawed on my lip until i
tasted blood, and let
a piece of myself die.
the flavor made my mouth water
as my stomach ground out hoarse
requests for expansion, for meaning.
i held nothing within but pathetic yearning,
hollow with self-hatred.
i could only feel affection with pain.
perfection became my obsession,
consuming me alive the way i would have
loved to consume anything at all.
some part of me believe i could be a super model,
and living my life on ambition and emptiness
was the way to do it.
every day i watched the little numbers
Actions Will Always SpeakActions speak louder than words,
a common phrase I once lived by.
I got used to how actions yell,
drowning out the meaning of words.
I reached a point where the noise
was deafening, knew what I had to do.
The negatives bit me, but I knew
I had to cleanse myself of the toxic.
But now, actions speak louder than words,
and I ignore them, sweep them away.
Now I sit in silence as crickets sing to me,
and I wonder why I do so.
The actions are clear, true cues of like,
but I will always explain them away.
Why? Because I don't want my heart cracked.
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