Deep, Fake Love

She trusted him beyond better instincts
Kept her fingers crossed the entire time.
He stripped her of all her doubt and insecurities
She stood naked before him.
She had never been this bare outside her own mind.
He was bare too,
In that moment alone
It didn’t matter.
There was more than love in the room that night.
Fire in both their eyes
Chills down their spines
They spoke only in the language of their souls.
Secrets of dark desires painted the wall.
She felt safe without her mask on.
She let him see she flaws.
She let him touch she scars.
She let him feel her  spirit.
She let her spirit free in front of him.
There was a little extra in this new ordinary.
Hands connected
Soul bound.
He swore to her.
The universe had aligned the stars for them tonight.
They had just tonight.
Tonight was wrapped in forever.
They made a vow.
He placed her body upon his alter
They began the ritual.
Their souls combined.
He was within her
And she was deep in her fantasy.
Body to body
They devoured the night
Till it was no more.
She had found him.
Sunrise peeked over the horizon.
A dawn.
A new day.
She just didn’t know how new.
He was gone.
All that remained
Was every sign that she had missed
On her way to heart break.
Her mind spilled out of her body
Into a sea of regret.
She was numb.
Her spirit sunk to the bottom of despairs.
The broken pieces of her heart
Made a trail from where they were straight out the door.
Tears were too great a sacrifice
For such a mighty loss.
She had lost herself.
She had lost all essence of self.

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Rigid Affection

When I am alone with you,
I keep a closed mind
Trap you inside
And keep you close.
I mean,
You get it
You get me
You’ve seen me like this
You’ve seen me like that
You’ve seen me like everything
You’ve seen me love nothing
Be nothing
Hate myself;
You know when I’m in love
Even when I can’t feel love in the room.
I know when you are lying
I still trust you
I can’t imagine not trusting you
I know it forces you to be honest
When we are alone.
When I’m alone with you,
I keep closed mind
That way,
We can be alone together.

Lingered Awakening

That cloud nine,
Higher living,
Deeper love,
Lighter air,
Stronger lights
Don’t always have to be an illusion
All these things,
So temporary
But permanent;
Somewhere.
Beauty isn’t magic.
Peace is fleeting.
God is art
God is not distant.
Art is why God isn’t distant
For the first time,
My soul can see in color
She was everything in love
She can breath in this love
My heart beats and bleeds
But still doesn’t believe in this love.

A Love Letter To My Body

I don’t want to be the reason you hurt
I don’t want to be your hurt
I want to love you
To free you
To not let my brokenness define you
I need you to know you are beautiful
I need you to believe you are beautiful
I want you to be my muse
My canvas
My joy
My peace and safety
I want you to be my shelter
I want to take refugee in you
No longer my punching bag
No longer my rival
Now my lover
I want to love you
To be your first love
I want you to know love

A Cynical Day-mare

If I could teach another organ to pump blood,
I’d rip my heart straight out of my chest.
Drop it into a river
Watch everything I hid it,
Gentely dilute and flow into oblivion.

I’d wash the blood off my chest
Close it up for the last time.
Clean my hands
And dress myself completely in silver and white.
Touch my left breast
And listen to the silence.

Surrender rhythm for freedom.
Sacrifice for love one last time.
I’d let it go.
Let it all go.
Believe less.
Detach myself.
Forgive.

I’d finally have the liberty
To find my freedom
Without everything inside me breaking.
I’d stop breaking.
I’d never fall in love again;
But I’d never fall again.
I’d still be depressed
But this time, I’d know why.

If I ripped my heart out of my chest,
I’d never love again.
I’d be left with only the memory of love.
The pain and the beauty
The madness and the illusion.

I’d watch the hands of God
Stretch out over the horizon,
Gently orchestrating the sunrise
And the magic she has to offer us,
Be immersed by all that majesty
And I’d just watch.

Trapped In Love

Loving you is a toxic river of hope.
Blinded by emptiness
Trying to reach out to you
Wanting to let go
Wanting to let you go
Wanting to set you free

I’d rather watch you go forward
And let myself fall back into misery.
I’d rather be trapped in hell
With my lonely,
Than gaze at the gates of heaven
With you pulling me into limbo.

You are my purgatory.
You are my safe space.
You are my familiar hurt.
You are, now free
Free from the chains of loving me.

Something About You

Something about your hands
Crawling on my skin
And through my mind.
Spell it out,
Without your hands on me
Write it out
Mouth it out
Mean it
Feel it
Make me believe it

Something about your presences
Feels so surreal
Too intense to be real
Just a little too clear
I’m beginning to see right through
So much clarity
So much fallacy

Something about feeling this,
Thinking this
Reliving all of it
Is simply mental
But there’s something about it

Voices In My Head

I recognize the voices in my head.
More so, their intentions.
Their words,
Like venom
Flowing through my mind.
They lie! They lie! They lie!

Honestly, it feels familiar.
They speak in tongues
I speak their tongue.
Their words,
Meaningless;
But still, I comprehend.

Sometimes,
They slither into my dreams
Seduce me with illusion.
Torment my reality.
Fuck reality!
I know it’s not so.

I spend nights alone
With all of them.
All alone with them;
It’s the same sensation
As a thick rope around my neck
Or knives in my back.
Just in my head.

I don’t mind the voices in my head.
They redefine my outlook
On life, On love
I’m eternally grateful.
I don’t mind the voices in my head
Even when they make me hurt,
They don’t have their fingers on my heart.

Wasted Prayers

No longer does she waste her prayers on happy endings. The vanity of her hearts pain-filled endeavors had become redundant. She could only bleed out so much before beginning to feel foolish or, not feel at all. She begs God for sober middles. She aims simply to make it to sunset and not concern herself with whether or not she will ever rise again. She walks slowly in the rain and imagines the angels weeping on her behalf. Even if they weren’t, at least sadness didn’t feel so lonely. Something about such moments, adds melody to lonely. The type of melody, that plays on and on until you learn to forgive or release. History rears its ugly head at the most unfortunate times. So she tries to count all the beautiful things in the present. She tries to be grateful for love and solitude, for sound and silence, for the fire that lights her darkness. Then maybe one day, she’ll look back and not see a victim or a survivor but someone she recognizes.

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