ashes of me

Sometimes I wonder if my old demons would be better
Than the nothingness that consumes me now.
The emptiness, the hollowness, void of all emotion,
Which calmly holds the knife and presses it against my skin-
Unfeeling, indifferent.

I used to be drowning in my pain,
My thoughts and emotions overwhelming me.
Now, I watch myself sink,
No longer fighting for air-
No longer fighting for anything.

My anger does not roar as it once did.
It burns with a strange quietness
And hidden strength.
Eating away at me slow and cold,
So that I do not feel its true heat.

My sparks float up into the sky.
I am bathed in the glowing orange light,
Flickering all around me,
Soothing me.
Numb, I do not see that the campfire is my heart.
Melting away,
Then hardening-
Only to remain in ashes of me.

ocean eyes

I wonder what you see when you look at me.
I wonder if you would still love me if you could see it all.
There are oceans in my eyes
That would take years for you to cross.
Shades of blue,
I am falling through.
Would you be willing to follow me?
To be still and listen to the words I cannot speak?
The tears that won't come out of my eyes-
Hear them throbbing and pounding behind.
They are the waves,
And I am the sea.
Boundless and deep,
Stretching out farther than you can see-
Farther than anyone dares to go.

look inside

i want to feel the razor slice my skin
i want to watch,
cold and calculated,
the blood trickle slowly down my leg
and in that moment
feel nothing but the sting
nothing but the pleasure of punishment
payment for my sins
i want to feel it hurting
underneath my clothes
while nobody knows

those little red lines
are like a map
for my lost heart
i don't understand what i'm feeling
tear me open
let me look inside

stained pearl necklace

The blade meets my skin,

Sharp, and cold.

Sketching on me a picture
Of the emptiness I feel inside.

With red ink, red lines, it slits and stings,

And blood will bead the string,

Like a stained pearl necklace.

Tight around my neck, yet a beautiful decoration-

I find comfort in the soreness and aching left behind.

If only I could connect the lines.

Weaving my way through the messes I've made-
I'm just trying to make things right.

Intersecting scars continue the maze

When my heart has reached a dead end.

I had a dream once...
I kept on going,
Deeper and everywhere.
And the blood flowed.
And it felt so good.

My whole body covered with those thin red lines,
Like prison bars or a rope.
Wrapped around me, clinging to me-
Trapping me inside myself,
Yet I am the one that drew them.
Maybe it's just a way of holding myself in
When all that I am only wants to get away.

Waiting there in the timid silence of my dream,
Flashing images of crimson.
Each drop bringing such satisfaction,
Saying, "This is right, this is good."
As my pictures brought forth life.
The bright red bursting forth,
Fresh and free,
Where once there was no color.
However, in dreams there are no consequences.
No one to see,
To misunderstand as they do in the real world.

And so I wake up, my skin unbroken.

But lingers the desire,
The warmth from the fire that blazes underneath my skin-
Longing to be cut.

the sound of thunder

So strange it seems to me now to hear the sound of thunder.
A sound almost comforting, like the dull drowsy ache of a hunger.
So strange it seems to hear that sound
Which once evoked from me such an intolerable fear-
Now to which I can listen in peace.
What a hope it lights in me, however small;
For I miss the days when my worst fear was something so concrete,
So real as a thunderstorm.
But knowing that even this can fade,
What once threatened can become beautiful to me,
This fills me with a gloomy kind of joy.
Gloomy from the dark and damp of a rainy day,
But joyful for how it causes the street to shine-
The rain on this path that I walk.
So that maybe what is terror in me today
Will become fragrant to me by the rain's growth of flowers.
This too shall pass, as the rolling of the thunder-
The roaring in my heart.

time and tides

My mind speeds past the clock,

And yet the rest of me stays behind.

The clock, cold and calculating

Does not wait for me,
Nor I for it.

I move so fast,
And time so slow.
The waves rush towards me,
Growing bigger and bigger.

Do I dive in or try to run away?
It makes no difference.
Still they come,
Still they will crash-
Coming closer and closer
As my thoughts race.

The scariest thing about the waves and time
Is the way they move.
Uncaring, unfeeling, and never stopping-
So much bigger than me.

I have no control.
The clock keeps turning,
The waves keep crashing.
The dreaded moment approaching,
The crest of the wave appearing.

I am helpless.
Defenseless before the laws of nature.

after the rain

Sometimes 

There's something beautiful

After the rain. 

When everything is bathed

In that eerie light, 

And you see it all in a way

You've never quite seen it before.

Suddenly
There are colors
In new places.

Places that were once
Only black
Now shine
In that strange new light.

Wet
And mysterious,
And beautiful.

"And the rain will make the flowers grow." ~Eponine, Les Miserables