I have no idea where I was going with this but here-

I must wear it like a chain around my neck


A bloody weight specially made of gossamer wings and naivety


For a split second I can see it
A tiny throne for a tiny king


Strong,

holding me upon a dirty bed


Strangers walk by with their stilted lies
throwing their red paint and holy words


A christening by those who curse


It must be hanging like a noose
This tightly woven cradle where tiny kings,
With tiny wings can slumber


For a split second I can feel it


(Tantalizing fingers glimmer, gently brushing remembering the need)


Remembering the greed
It didn’t take that long to bleed


As they tugged and pulled away my flesh
Cutting into my skin like a second dress


I remember it so clearly


Maybe that is why I wear it around my neck
This bloody weight specially made of
Gossamer wings and tenacity


Such a tiny throne for a unwanted king

Tasteless

A word spoken into exsitance has the power to tear me down but I can’t let it. I know it would be better to take it back but I lost the flavor and now can remember what it was like before. This word gives meaning when there wasn’t any. Bringing to life things that I should have just let die but I can’t. It is a curse to go back and give it away. Cracks appear on my mind because I decided to trust this broken word with a broken meaning. Leaving me spinning. Telling tall tales about how I have courage to defeat my own creation. But I guess I am paitent.

I guess I am just that paitent.

A little taste of something

Hate

This comes the easiest to me. I know it like an old friend.

One that never left despite the many arguments. It festers inside of me growing in the places that love was never able to reach. Still, this is not the easiest for me to admit. I do not like feeling this way no matter how much it comforts me in the end. I think it is because it focuses me.

I am not alone when I am in pain.

If I share it with others there is a chance it will go away.

I have been accused of wallowing in my own self pity

I guess that is based on some truth.

I do not want it to end…it can’t.

I can tell them I hate them though it may take me some time to do so. I love the feeling of disgust. I love how my blood boils when I see them. Hearing their name gives me such a delicious feeling and I am not sure if I want it to stop.

Hate

I know this feeling like a long lost friend.

It is something that stood by my side when everything else had gone. Even now I sit in it. Letting it fester inside of me, reminding me of things best left in the past. I need it to survive because without it…I might as well be dead.

K – Kindess

I guess I have overcome a lot in my life. At times this is not really easy to see. I surrounded myself with self defeating imagery in the hopes that it will help me see reason. But it never works.

I know that others have it worse.

I know that I am in a better place.

I know it.

I see it

But that doesn’t always help.

I am so used to it and do not know how to change it. If I am being honest here, I think I need it. I have spent so many years of my life hating myself and others around me that it is pretty much the only way I can tell that I alive.

I think I made a comment about how I am not good with “positive” stories. I do not do love. Or happiness. Or joy. Not unless someone is suffering in someway. I fully admit that this makes me an edge queen and quiet possibly makes me seem a bit immature.

But…this is my therapy. This is how I heal.

I may surround myself with negativity but it is the only way I can used to things.

Send it below or Fucking use it

I remember the day I told my friend that I would use this very qoute from her book. I was maybe 16 and have since lived by it.

My past defines me because it gives me the ability to create this things. I use it. So with my pain, and lonliness, and heartache, and stress, what am I?

So yea…I do not think I would have a purpose without it. I may never ever really get better and I am ok with that.

It is a kindess to believe otherwise and I just do not have the space for that.

Still I respect it all the same.

H _ Holdings

I told you that I was a curse

At worst a mistake

Upon a broken page

Pierced heavily with a holy blade

I am a demon made of sin

Because only the devoted would let me in

I am something to be forgotten

But those words spoken so prettily

Could never be the real me

I wish I was a demon

I wish I was cursed

I wish there was a reason

To leave this earth

Because I need purpose

I don’t want to feel worthless

Because I am not her

I will never be

I am not the key to your heart

You see

But there is nothing else for me

I am not a demon

I am not cursed

And no matter how much it hurts

I am worthless

A purposeless fraud

Just a sad little girl who is lost.

A/N I have not been doing well lately. Kind of depressed…ok fine, loads of depressed. All of the depressed please and thank you. I can tell you how it started buut I rather not. Since I still want to keep doing the challenges I will devote this week to the emotional drama that is my mind. Chemical imbalances for the win.

For those who do not like this kind of stuff all is well. I am only allowing myself a week to do these types of poems. After that I will save my innermost emo ness for outside of the challenge post. Because truly would I really be me if I didn’t debby downer the world.

Con troll me (Control)

I am struggling.

For reasons I can not control I find myself thinking of you.

And no matter how much I fight it I find that I do not have the ability to stop.

You.

Who used to feed me tasteless lies upon a platter

You.

Who used to bruise my body and scream “What’s the matter”???

As if my bleeding lips And busted up tongue

Could convey sweet words when I had none.

I should have seen it from the swastika on your chest.

You

Who hold yourself above the rest as if You

Yes you

Are a God among men

But I am lacking in faith and reasons

Once I begin to feel again I begin

To miss

You.

Who tore my dress because you said it was ugly

You.

Who blamed me for every cigarette burn and broken knobs on doors

You.

Who always swore it was my fault as you ripped my body apart.

You ripped my ravaged body apart…

And for reasons I can not control I find myself

Almost

Missing you

Yes

You

Who on our wedding day who made my legs a pretty shade of purple and blue.

You

Who called my job and told them I lied about the money that went missing that one night

Despite

Fucking despite

The fact that I was not even there

But you

Do you care?

As I struggle to find air around listless tress

Doctors and officers telling me that all will be ok

But it isn’t

It never will

Because you broke me

And made me feel a love so twisted and vicious that I become so fucking addicted

God am I so addicted

But it doesn’t matter anymore

Because I am now crawling in the floor begging for someone

Anyone

Knowing full well that it is you that I want

AND I FUCKING HATE IT!

I HATE me

But this lack of control gives me something to believe in

Because as I sit thinking of you

Yes you

Who nearly succeded in making me your wonton whore

I scream a little

While wishing for more.

Soo this is a rough draft. I do not like it at all but I forgot today was C so yea. Will post it anyways.

I forgot

Dedication to Nova, Fly with the stars you loved so much. If I am lucky we may one day meet again.

I forgot to be sad.

I forgot to cry.

I forgot to be mad.

Because I forgot why.

See a friend passed away two years ago but I forgot. Not her but the date that changed it all despite the fact that it still hits close to home and I remember her. Every fucking day I remember her.

But it is slowly fading.

Her smile

Her laugh

The voices she used to make

I remember but they are fading day by day.

So I wrote it on my calender so I could remember when to grieve. How long I should let myself cry and the hours that will have gone by.

Since I said my last goodbye.

Since I told her to be safe on her trip only for hours later she dies in a fucking car crash. She didn’t have a car and we joked about that. I made a comment about how when I was learning to drive I nearly ran over my moms foot cause I smash it when she said break.

We laughed

And reminisced

Made plans to get together and how we should talk more.

I made joke after joke about how we should talk more before ending it with

Have fun

Be safe!

To bad my words weren’t enough.

She told me she would but didn’t.

Whose to blame for this incompetence!

She was the same age as me you know. Life planned and precious goals.

I remembered the excited whispers to my daughter that next morning. Showing her pictures of a friend that was slowly dying.

No that is not right she was already dead and the plans I was so happy to tell my daughter would only come to completion in my head.

I wanted to reconnect with my friend.

But it is gone now because this year

I forgot to be sad

I forgot to cry

I forgot to be mad

Because I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye.