The Man on the Moon.

I've always seen the face of a man when I looked at the moon,
In the days before I had a telescope that televised the reality.
No faces. No person in the sky on the recieving end of my problems.
The nights when I would lay awake, describing my day to this comforting entity.
Cry on his fictional shoulder and be patted on the back by shooting stars.
Speaking entire journal entries and reading unwritten poetry to this kindred friend who came to visit me everynight.
Overcast skies were like the long train rides you dread. Looking out the window with hope that the next exit is yours... and the clouds would part and there he would be. Ready to listen and laugh at my jokes.
My astrologicial friend, your shoes have yet to be filled.
Though I fill entire journals with new words and ideas. I miss reciting my unrehearsed form live and naturally to your always hanging ears. Replacing the wind with words and music straight from my soul.
Making each night more creative and beautiful. Peaceful.
Man on the moon, did you move to the other side?
Did my words make you want to hide?
Or did I just grow up and realize that I just speak words.
That the meaning behind them is empty without someone on the recieving end, feeling.
I miss you.

To my dear sweet healer.

Let me exhale eagerly and pull you in closer to feel safe again.
I don't know what it is like to feel this way, and I have a new found addiction.
It's raw and it's rough... But my eyes dance with your's and my smirk turns into a smile.
Suddenly I am lost. A whole human walking around without the gigantic holes in my chest.
How strange.
I didn't know people could affect you in such a way.
I didn't know I wasn't alone.
And suddenly I find myself staring at you through honest eyes.
No troubles bitten back, no words to keep from escaping my lips.
Simply smiling.
Feeling real. And safe.
You are my bandaid. Thank you for helping me heal.

Dusk

She was the unique flower
Blossoming only at night when the eyes of the sun couldn't find her carnal sin.
Entangled in sweaty bedding and the scent of fresh linen masked in sex.
I only knew what she looked like with her head tilted back, in the throws of an orgasm.
Her voice, like an animal noise clawing it's way out of her beautiful fluttering lips...
As my tongue caressed her skin, fingers wandering inside and finding her aura.
Fluidic and gorgeous as it poured onto my hand, and I wrapped my tongue around my fingers.
Savouring the taste of her soul.

She was a bruised flower... Withering away in the sea of her torn emotions.
Only to be rescued and adored by my tainted eyes
That scans her body everyday, in silence...
Knowing the sun is going down.
Knowing I will make her pretty once again.

Starvation

I'm hiding under the mask of anorexia.
Covered by the shroud of a mental disease
Sickening my stomach, smiling when it growls.
Breaking every mirror I see, and see every mirror I hate.

Doll.

I've found myself washed up on the shores of my dreams.
My seams undone, in a sea of loose threads and untied ribbons.
Sharp nails pressing inward, begging to stay alive as my stuffing escapes.
Watching as my body falls apart in my hands.
Crying no tears, nothing left.
Hoping for someone to rescue me.
Patch me back up, like new again.
But I'm holding scissors..
and snipping each perfectly aligned stitch,
and with each one sliced, more of me is poured onto the ground.
I am not the girl of your dreams.
I am not the birth of a new idea.

I am the death of a child.
I am the death of sanity.
I am the death of a soul.
I am the death of hope.
I am the death of your dreams.
I am the death of your smile.
I am the death of your beauty.

And I am dead. Laying as empty skin in your bed.
Cotton scattered around.

Slaughter

You speak in the harshest pentecostal tongue I know.
Words grabbing hold of my chest, clawing it into shreds.
Leave no hair unburnt, leave no freckle of mine behind.
You still find me, in that pit, along with your past
Your now so present, and your soon, but somehow distant, future.
Batting eye lashes like something pretty.
Knitting your safety net as you are already falling to the ground.
Keep your hands in my blood, I want them all to know.
Showing signs of what once was a perfect match,
Now blown out by the cool wisp of your sinister breath.
I don't follow any causes but my own,
I don't walk where I know I shouldn't.
I don't pretend to be okay when I am not.
The smile pastuered to my face is ever permnant, not a lie.
Simply a glimpse into my mind.
Where I am daydreaming
Of killing you.

Clearly.

You Are Not The Majority.




Feel good about that.