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As I walked along that winding path

I thought of all the things I wish I could be

The small gestures I was never sure that I articulated well

Can they see the shift in my eyes?

The way my voice may drop, or fall short?

Or is it only me who can hear ants walk?  

when in desperation forward seems backward

Here is the place that I sat
Here is where my soul weighed me down 

I marked it as mine 
So long ago

But you're here now
And I can't say I like the way 
The way in which you fill that space

That spacespot where my soul
Churned, burned. 
I remember how it was brought to boil

How can you say you know
How can you say that
When I can still smell my own burnt flesh 
When with mine keen eye I can still spot the indentation that I made

If I must I'll remove you myself
I cannot stand your weight replacing mine
I'm not ready 
But you wouldn't understand

How can one so cold 
Know the lingering feeling of oneself burned for so many years
Discomfort became comfort
Shifting sands made wet with tears from pain 

They had given it strength to stand on its own 
And now you expect me to welcome the piercing sun and thank it for drying up my strength 

Search

We like the movies about heroines and heroes because in our indulgent and contemporary society we somehow realize that we miss that feeling of adventure and decisions made in the heat of the moment. We want to KNOW what type of person we are. But in our state we mostly guess and hope we are on point. We walk in the cold and at the same time that we relish the cold we loathe the cold that seeps into our bones. LIVE LIVE our souls are calling and it's so desperately hard to muster the initial burst of the deepest form of strength to step over our own inhibitions and plunge head first into LIFE 

hopscotch bitch

stars in her eyes and you fancy yourself an astrologer

your preDICKtions are worthless

this starry eyed girl 

   finds herself in pain

so you change your job description

your vain,

in vain

          try to match her

not even a forensic scientist could correctly interpret her 

blood begot by pain

it's broken path is unintelligible to all

(but herself)

her story 

her life

alone she allows the darkest parts of herself

bring into light all that she forgets when she is in this

cardboard plastic fake world

your worthlessness she values

this show she can at times enjoy

but truth is her motive

and truth comes by way of drink

she isn't scared

you think she is forlorn,

but that's something she knows

she isn't a step ahead

she doesn't walk

but she floats above it all, 

at times you can see her toes touch the ground

cardboard won't stand the rain

you're twisted

(uninterpreted, badly explained, unknowing, ignorant)

 words hurt my heart

you're illusional truth 

cuts my soul

cardboard cutouts of equality cannot fool me

my gut along with my mind knows the 

truth

i cut it from my soul and from my mind

i am more 

a 3-dimentional version of your reality

the scars

   and the verbal 

are tangible 

keys are not only a weapon

they open the doors of truth

see it before you fall victim 

to being a perpetrator of inequality 

harm

more

wanna know re@lity?

taste it on the tips of my fingers

suck it till the dream is gone

replaced with 9to5 

you're complacent compliance

ticktock drip drop

bathroom breaks to pass the time 

all in all i'd say you're a victim of "mine"

choice// choice choice// is the word of this

generation

i'd like to help you find the way

problem is

i "choose" not to 

so here you are,

pink, raw, and on your own

solutions aren't necessarily the solution anymore

!questions!

more important than their

confused confused disinterested answers

sunandgloom

beg and taunt you equally

there is so MUCHMORE 

to talk about than the "weather"

easy doesn't suit ANYONE

the realities
they creep in like so much else
self doubt
insecurities

reality, the drainer of hope