Self Demoliton.

I shared a few cuts with her.
We have matching scars.
Only she was trapped behind physical Braille.
She wrote love on her arms
And carved hate in my brain.
While she contemplated bleeding,
I trembled in fear of death's eyes.
"What if she drowns?''
98.6 just grew colder.
The blood warm water she lay on only got colder.
The red lake filled to the brim of the horizon.
The solitude in her acts seemed to vanish
As all her bumps healed, and grew closer.
Fresh sents of blood stained her arm
And the tile around her
And the sharp edge that played like a pretty friend.
"This isn't the end."
She pleaded for another friend.
Another way to help her release
The feelings held inside her flesh.
She just wanted to let them out
so her self demolition grew worse.
Her heart was the last to grow colder.
One night,
She screamed for me.
But I wouldn't wake.
She bled
She cried.
She screamed louder than her voice could manage.
Wings poked through her skin.
White wings
The feathers were perfectly groomed.
Shiny and almost golden.
And she ascended. 
She spread her wings
And as she rose to the gods
I came rushing in.
She said "don't be afraid anymore."
I reached for her arms
But the blood left no grip for Me.
She said. "Don't be afraid anymore."
I shot up in a sweat.
I couldnt breathe. I couldn't see.
Where the fuck am I.
-in the dark-
Tears creeped down my cheeks.
All I could think was "I hope she's okay"
I screamed for her,
But she never answered.
She drowned in her thoughts.
Wrote love on her arms.
And love on my heart.
Her scabs never had the chance to turn to scars.
She preferred solitude.
Pain to pretty.
She was beautiful and everyone saw it but her.
Those wings couldn't even compare to the structure of this statue.
I shared a few cuts with her.
Her scars matched mine.
Hers were on her arms.
Mine were on my heart.
She's my guardian angel.
And im not afraid anymore

Sunday Best.

Shades of blue cover her face,

shades of black cover her eyes,

shades of red cover her head as she attempts to survive.

"You'd be prettier, without all that hair in your face."

Its just her way of trying to hide her disgrace,

trying to cover her scars.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are"

he says with stained breath coming from every bar.

His words were spun by whiskey

 as his fingers wrapped around her neck.

"Under my roof, you will respect me"

and she thinks
"You touched my body to infect me
and tore me apart to try to dissect me"
but she never speaks.

She frowns and just turns her head,

and he grits his teeth, realizing she's almost dead.

"Here's what you've become,

Youve grown from the wound from which you were bled"

 And she pushes him away and he says

"No, dont be that way. This is all YOUR fault you know."

 And she screams,

 " You now not from where I was inspired.

And now you're a fuck up and a fucking liar.

 Yo utake everything just because you desire,

you fuck up everything cos you think youre on fire,

but youre not.

My mom may sit back and laugh but I will not,

step to me, you got one shot.

I'm done dealing with you stealing the one life I've got

and I'm not done living so I wont fucking stop.

Respect you?

You touched me to infect me

and broke me down to dissect me.

You're not my dad,

so suck my nads,

 fuck off, respectfully." 

 She runs to her room
and hides behind the door
locks it tight
"you fucking bitch. You whore."
and the splitting of wood cracks against her skull
as he pushes his body against the barrier
again.

Crack.

"you don't know what I've been through."

Crack

And he says
You don't know what I've done for you"

Crack

and tears attack her face, Broken.
And hits her again.

 She's cracked.

Those shades of blue across her face

that shade of black that blinds her eyes

those dark reds covering her head as she tries to survive.

They hide the beauty her heart can't show.

So she hides it, so no one will know.

She doesnt want anyone to see the pain she grows.

They think it'll all just blow over

thats what they say when they think she's not sober.

And so those scars and bruises grow closer

She's got five pretty stains all over her

Two on her neck.

And no one asks.

But she's cracking.

Her lips break from holding them together too long.

and bleed from biting too hard.

She doesnt wanna speak

but she wants to scream.



She wants to yell all those words that rot away

"The lips you taste are never awake when you try to wake them.
They breathe slowly, and play dead as you pet them softly.
But you wouldnt understand the pain that stains them."

Broken glass and a pretty face.
"You have no idea how beautiful you are"
those words ring in her skull, but she'll never believe.

So, she stands against the tide as it crashes against her
She thinks of how to stop the world from crashing down.

"He likes pain to pretty
and death to daughter.
But hates the words of reason
when it comes to slaughter.
'Two more hits, maybe I'll stop hitting it.
Be social, maybe I'll stop shittin it.'

He doesnt makes sense, but he's always spittin it.
And pushes me away, and not just physically.
He portrays resistance, but doesnt resist hitting me.
I always wonder how they next time turns.
Will he hit me? Holler?
Will he burn my coller?
Will he drown my head in my sunday best?
The high socks and long sleeves hiding my bruises.

Guess we'll see."

Would You Care..?

Would you care to share? Would you care to stay?
Would you care to tell me
what the fuck you think is so great?

Would you like to see
or maybe like to smell
Would you like to feel
the insides of my shell?

Would you scream for me?
Cos I'm screaming for you silence..
Would you scream for me?
Cos you said

"I'm willing to get inside this"

Inside of me..
Inside my brain

Inside the thoughts that make me insane.
Inside these lies that drip in distain.
Its like this pain has left a stain
inside this person with no heart, no brain
inside this person thats rotting doll, rotting away.
I'm rotting away.I'm rotting away.I'm rotting awayyy

Would you scream for me?
Cos I'm screaming for you silence..
Would you scream for me?

Cos you said

  "Only God could've designed this"





Designed this disaster piece,

this flaw.

This perfect fuck up

that obeys no law.

See, I answer to know one, especially no man.

I take no shit cos on two strong feet I stand

Love me for my flaws, cos this is who I am.

I've got something in store, a master fucking plan.

I'll disect everything, just as I wish

finding ever feature to see how it ticks.

I want to hold everything, piece by piece

I wanna find everything that looks like me

Cos I wanna know what you think, I wanna know how you speak

I wanna know what you think about this thing they call me

Cos when I look inside, I'd love to share

When I see these things, I'd never leave

If I were you I'd tell her why the fuck she's so great.

Would you like to see,

or even like to smell

just slightly venture into the insides of my shell?

Its cracked you see,

just for a little light.

Cos oddly enough I'm a little bit shy.

I'm just stepping out, so I can start my life

but I dont know anything about this body of mine

I dont know how to feel, cos these things inside

they're telling me everything you say is a lie

COS I'VE BEEN FUCKING SCREAMING,

why you stay silent.

I'm still screaming "No"

but you still want inside this.

"Well I'm not pregnant with even a thought of you anymore.

I no longer feel like your pretty little whore

I'm just done feeling like a fish outta water.

Sorry dollface, you made me kill your first born daughter.

Her name was Elizabeth, and she had fingernails

Her favorite color was purple and hated that you sailed.

You went so far away, far from her

you destroyed her world with just three words

"See you tomorrow"

And walked out that door.

Leaving her with hope like you were just running to the store

but six years of vengaence past

and not one word spoken

no letters signed, sealed or sent

And no reasons for her to repent

cos she wanted to kill you,just so you know.

The only feeling she had was resent

She hated you, six years stong

she always wondered what she did wrong

but then she changed

No longer Elizabeth

she lost her sanity and now she's insane

She's now lizzeh

with no last name

I'm proud to be me, and no man can change me.
No brutal act of trying to hang me
No,  I wont be anyones necessary accessory.
Cos I'm shiny bright, and no boy can burn me.
No man to yern for me.
No asshole to try to touch me.


Oh I know you're scared.
No, don't fucking touch me there.
I'm done fucking screaming for one who no longer cares.
No letter signed, sealed or sent.
And these words are reason for me to never repent.

What do you do,

When dreams come true? And theyre oh, so ordinary?

I just wanna get out.. I just wanna escape

But I can't.

I cant leave these emtee corridors.

cause all I am is a "little whore" of yours.

Isn't that right?

Tongue tied like a noose around my neck

nails in my head

lead in my mouth

Can I pull it?

Can I pull it?

I bet my insides aren't as pretty....

But I'm not the coward you want me to be.

 I'm not the me you wish to see.

I could never be the fish in your sea

I wont drown

I promise

I wont drown, wont drown. Drown.

I have no need for your acceptance or lies

I have no need for that glint in your eyes

I can get any guy

even with a bigger size

Sometimes I feel like this is all my fault

Sometimes I feel like I'm not perfectly flawed

Sometimes I feel like I need to put away my claws

but they wont  retract, they wont retract, retract.

I just gotta GROWL.

Howl at the moon,

let go of my inner beast

let go of this dumb shit rhyme scheme.

I'm done holding on

I just wanna pull it.

But I wont drown, I wont retract.

I wont retract.

My dreams aren't so ordinary.

Keep Your Voices Raised, Keep Your Knuckles Bleeding

Someone smart once said "Choose your battles.", and I thought that meant fight when necessary, walk away if possible. This I believe. When I was younger, I didn’t always choose my battles. In fact, I wouldn't fight at all. I'd take anything anybody ever gave me, wouldn't fight back, and wouldn’t talk back. My mouth was shut and my hands laid by my sides, always relaxed. And I got my ass kicked on a daily basis. I'd get screamed at, harassed, pushed to walls and lockers, and I still stayed quiet. I'd go home and my mother would ask "Where'd the new bruises come from?" And I'd lie and say it was my friends. 'We were just playing..' and I'd limp to my room. I'd hibernate in my cave and do nothing but fry my retinas with animal planet and discovery channel until my mother would summon me with dinner. I'd shove my face and eat my problems, hoping they'd just sliver away in my stomach acid. Breaking news: They didn't. So, I'd go back to school. I'd deal with the stupid boys' abusive tendencies everyday. I never had the courage to speak out against them.

            This behavior had gone on for quite a few months, until a very special day. The day before, the abusers had made my friend cry. Today, I had woken up with a look in my eye, a crick in my neck and smile on my face. So, I camped at the lunch table. I slid sewing scissors together, and apart, folding them to keep me calm as they sat at the table next to us. I eyed them all. I breathed slowly as I saw them look up at me and my troops. And they smiled slightly; one boy nudged another with a "watch this" look on his face. And they launched their missiles of cantaloupe, watermelon and other mystery lunch line fruits. And I was hit. A cantaloupe nailed me directly in the face, and all their arms shot up like they were screaming "Goal" at a soccer game. My nostrils flared. I stood up, scissors in one hand, cantaloupe in the other. And I took their grenade to their table and I slammed it down. "If you don't stop messing with me and my friends, this'll be your head." I said, strangely calm, as I commenced stabbing with the scissors. I sat back down at my table, laughing. They were horrified. This was the first time they had ever heard me speak, and the first time I had ever fought back. The next day, however, they went to the principals office [which we had already done to report their abuse but no help was given.], and they ratted me out, saying I had a Swiss army knife on me at school. But I'm not stupid, I left the scissors at home, and so she dragged me into her office, searched me down and didn't find anything. She sent me back to lunch stating I had done nothing wrong, and not to worry about "Dumb immature boys". And so, I sat next to the boys, with a grin on my face. My hands were shaking with intense refrain from hitting one or two of them in the face. "I'm not stupid. You think you can get me? You're quite mistaken." I stated, the second and last time they'd ever hear my voice. That day I walked away a different person. I decided that day that I'd never take anyone's crap ever again, especially if my friends were involved. Someone wise once said, "Kill what you can, challenge everything, and vengeance is mine." and I lived by this throughout my high school career.

       For a long while after this happening, no one messed with me or my friends. I suppose they thought I was riding the crazy train or maybe they got smart and decided to leave us alone. But then things got worse. There were no more high school boys to yell obscenities and throw fruits at me, but it somehow metamorphosized into something I couldn't handle. More bruises were formed, more tears were shed, more blood was spilled, but not by stupid immature boys with razorblade words, but by the person I'd never think it would be. His name: I call him Captain Douche bag. His crime: Pinning me down, wrapping his biceps around my neck, breaking my back, smacking the unspeakable, and having my mom wrapped around his lying fingers. What was she doing in this act you ask: holding my legs so I couldn't kick him in the face. And they laughed. Their alcohol stained breath was all I could breathe, since my oxygen was limited. I started to drown in my tears, but he wouldn't let go. It felt like he held on forever, like a boa around its prey, like breathing water, I couldn't catch my breath. -Kill what you can, challenge everything-

And so my eyes shut. And my hands were no longer tense. The river down my face had ended its flow. And I dream like lions, I was only a cub, with tiny teeth and claws, excited from the last kill, taking down the little lambs. And I woke, his arms still around my neck, and I screamed. I screamed, not in a horrified, sad 'this can't be happening' way, but more so I was taking my voice back. I was taking my breath back. I ripped my legs from my mother's tentacles and unstuck my back from the couch. It looked like as if I was having a seizure. I finally stood with Captain on my back, but he wouldn’t let go. I body slammed him to the floor, and a painful, gut clenching grunt came from his beak. It's like he was a vulture on my shoulder telling me my flaws, picking at my skin. But I'm not dead yet. So, I bit him back. And blood streamed down his arm as my teeth crunched into his bone. And he let me go. He finally released his grip from my neck and I launched faster than NASA shuttles. I leaped to my room, and took the longest strides I could. And I slammed my door; and slid down to the floor. Vengeance was mine; and I laughed a little to myself. I had defeated my demon. I was born to be broken, but no one was going to try to fix me. This, I believe. “Keep our voices raised, keep our knuckles bleeding.”

He Speaks Again..

       Since day one, everyone said "He's an angel. A knight in shining armor. Don't hurt his fargile heart, it's been shattered by a two faced harlotte. He cannot take the pain of another lost love."
      So I pounced to my prey, And I sunk my teeth in ever so carefully, hoping he wouldn'd mind.

I came to find his true colors bleeding threw the water. I found him tongue deep in dispair as distain dripped from his fangs. And he smiled, it seemed. Making fun of what he had created and what he had become.

"I'm sorry. I'm the fuck up.. I hate what I am and what I've turned into"

You can keep your bullshit to yourself.

I'm done working with clay thats so watery it slips through my fingers.

"Why didn't you fight for what you wanted?"

I'd be fighting for a lost cause. I'd never have what I wanted, the sweet angel had lost HIS wings and fallen to the ground.

"I gave up. I'm weak."

I can tell by how you lounged so sweetly in the corner of my eyes, how you were so comfortable wrapped around her finger.

Well, now I'm lost, wondering where to go, who to trust and what to do.

You've left me without a trace of how to feel or anything.

Maybe you'll be blessed with me again, but not in this lifetime, boy.

I love what you made me.

And I love what you've left me.

And I've found who I need. And its not you.

<3

Somedays,

I just want to burn the world.
I put my heart and soul on to a silver platter and serve it with a bandaid hoping whoever decides to eat it will fix it first.
I like to take chances. I hope sometimes that when I jump off buildings that I'll find my wings on the way down.
I havent found my wings yet.
I seem to have lost them
I ripped them from my spine
I didnt think I was good enough to be your angel.
But I realize
"when I climb
inside your eyes
I still pretend that I can fly."
But now your eyes are blackend
and blind
And you dont see my perfect design
I'm stuck here, scraping already skinned knees
I'm trying to show you the diety I can be.