Dreams of Poetry

She’s Tired

Cut into her skin to see what she’s made of

    Her bones shake with noise

    Her heart beats a rhythm

    Her blood flows to a melody that escapes

        with every slice of her vein

Though they say she’s beautiful

They don’t see the scars of battle

    There is no peacetime in this war.

She’s tired. 

They say “keep fighting”

    but they don’t know

        that she gave up long ago

You see, there is a monster that can’t be killed.

It will win in the end

No matter how much she puts in.

This is no fight.

It is a bloodbath

    There is no coming back.

Capsules unload down her throat and her eyes close

She’s tired.

She swallows the poison with no hesitation

    and lays on her bed

        whiskey by her head.

She never knew the appeal of the drink

    but figured it would do the trick.

All she ever wanted in life was the sleep when she was sick.

They told her she was born with illness in her mind 

    and too much compassion.

They said she should look out for herself

    so she looked into her heart

She saw the exhaustion and knew what to do.

She fell asleep and will never come to.

Auto-Pilot

Going through the motions of every day
Trying to make you all think I’ve changed my ways.
Living life stuck in this daze.
This maze. 

How could you believe I changed my mind?
Have you met me? I’m not fine.
I don’t believe I should even try
Not me. Not I.

All I’ve ever wanted to hear is what I tell you.
Yet no one gets the hint, they don’t have a clue.
“Don’t worry sweetie, it’s nothing you do.
Would I lie to you?”

And as my fingers tremble with the ache of memories
I wish you were here to give my hand a squeeze. 
If no one were around I’d drop to my knees
And Death I would plead.

(Source: dreamsofpoetry)

I want to be alone right now
with nothing but my thoughts
Nobody here can ever know
exactly what I’ve fought
I always try
but never do
Leaving you all behind
words and thoughts
leave their marks
but no one can see
these scars upon my heart
they say people will always feel
what you do for yourself
but is that still true
when I only feel hatred for me, too
I’ll never know what it’s like
to completely love myself
but at least I can see
who knows the truth
and who only ever sees the lie

(Source: dreamsofpoetry)

Have You Ever

Let’s all get together
for a rousing game of “have you ever” 

Have you ever felt so low 
that nothing was real?

Have you ever wanted to paint a canvas of skin and veins
Only to regret it every day?

Have you ever wanted to run away from every pain
And live your days in another place?
Have you ever been told no?

Have you ever been afraid to disappoint;
Afraid you couldn’t work your own voice?

Have you ever wondered what it’s like on the other side?
I wonder if it’s really a heaven in the sky?
Maybe it’s nothing and you really do just die. 

Have you ever felt so buried under stress
that you couldn’t even get dressed?

Have you ever wanted to down a bottle
And feel powered, full-throttle?

Have you ever hoped to bleed dry
So you could be light enough to fly?

Have you ever dreamed of bleeding skin
then woke up, wishing it had happened?

Have you ever loved the pain of an open sore
So much so that you made some more?

Have you ever loved someone so much so
that you didn’t even care where your own life would go?

I have. 

All these things.

I can’t talk anymore.

My heart is throbbing.

(Source: dreamsofpoetry)

Stepladder

If only you knew my pain
knew my fear
knew the everlasting ache for literature.

Maybe then you’d understand.
Maybe then you’d get the hint. 

Perhaps you’d be more empathetic.

How about we strike a deal?

I’ll eat the banana,
and you slip on the peel.

Maybe for once you’ll get it.
Maybe walking a mile in my converse
Will give you a better look at the inverse.

Would the stench of blisters keep you focused?

I doubt it.
But I’ll keep going at it. 

I don’t need you
or your drama
or the stress.

But you sure as hell need me
and my care
and my help.

But I can’t let go.
No matter how it tears me down.

You will go first
and I’ll be here
give you a boost

to Heaven’s Light.

(Source: dreamsofpoetry)

Art

It’s so beautiful. 

It’s mesmerizing. 

It’s art. 

And now I can’t do it 

and I’m going crazy. 

I want it so much. 

Why can’t I just create one more painting? 

One more piece of art? 

Just one. 

I don’t want to be a forgotten artist.

(Source: dreamsofpoetry)

Recipe For Disaster (WARNING: MAY BE TRIGGERING)

First, you feel the cool against your fingers.

Let yourself calm down.

Everything will be ok.

Next, comes reluctant defiance as you move closer and closer.

And then

Contact. The point meets flesh

Add a little pressure and adrenaline does the rest.

Your fingers twitch, you feel a scratch.

Now just watch, sit back. Relax.

You see the pure, white innocence

Soon, it’s gone. Covered by red.

The white line turns crimson, and the shame fills your head.

But you don’t care.

You continue to watch the mesmerizing show.

It’s delicious and sick, watching it flow.

You feel the pain, you know it’s there

it’s part of the experience

there’s no more hesitance.

Now the red runs down

It meets the clear water

And that beautiful droplet twirls and dances until there’s nothing left to see.

And so you repeat.

And then

The defeat.

(Source: dreamsofpoetry)

Dilemmas of 4 Clean Months

So many reminders

So many temptations

How could I do this?!

How dare I blow it all again?!

If it weren’t for you

I’d be in shreds

Unfortunately

I still want to

(Source: dreamsofpoetry)