One day, you’ll come across something so beautiful,
your lungs will forget it needs oxygen for you because
they want to gift it to this life.
One day, you’ll hold the hand of a love
while looking into the eyes of a fragile
being, and you will finally understand
the importance of being strong for those
who are delicate.
One day, you’ll live a life to be proud of,
not one you want to throw away like
last weeks leftovers.
One day, you’ll smile because you’ll have
purpose, all you have to do is allow the
time to get there.
I don’t always know why I walk in the monster’s shadow. Just that it seems like a good refuse from a blinding sun, a place to cool off after running for so long. I don’t know why I walk in the monster’s shadow, but it draws me in like a magnet, then holds me in the dark just long enough that I don’t think I’ll ever see light again.
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I smile my best graveyard smile,
dressed in Death’s black lace,
staring down on broken coffins,
chained above the watching eyes,
their names laid out in stone,
a remembrance of each life
ruined by the Reaper’s outrage.
Death is not beautiful
when you’re actually dead.
But barely living
in half-dead trees,
and deathly thin models
it’s often alluring.
How ironic that
and ruined bodies
are considered beauty
but death is only pretty
if you’re barely living.
You are nothing more than a birth-giver,
mother will never be in the job title,
at least when it comes to me.
A woman I’ll probably never meet,
my future doomed before I reached age three.
I’ve heard enough stories to know,
I can be happy if history doesn’t repeat.
I lost myself when I fell down the rabbit hole,
obsessed with time, the future held in a
stopwatch pocketed by no ones hands but
my own. I look through the eyes of the hatter,
no need to get high with the caterpillar to see
illusions within the mirror. I’ve always dictated
this heart, but the kingdom is failing, derailing
heads of hope is the only way to cope with this
Your greatest love
are drops of liquor
on cracked lips.
are laced in dark circles,
the bags under your eyes
carry the weight
of your stress.
You kill yourself
at what expense?
Don’t you understand,
life without you
doesn’t make sense?