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... merely a reflection of a so called life...
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Still in the land of the living...
sleepwalking through the passing years.
Still holding on, both hands grasping this tightrope
still struggling to balance between shores.
Maddness and sanity,
fire and ice.
Lightness and deepest dark.
Laughter and tears.
No easy remedies for me, no false profits, no saviours.
Just searching for pinholes of light in the darkness
searching for quiet black from the glaring sun.
These are the joys and hell of
a mind torn in two.


Facets of self, a myriad of illusions
hundreds of masks for each scene.
All these faces held in check
somehow coerced to fit each setting
but all lies, all for the audience,
all to hide whats really me.
And then no warning, washed away.
No tether to grasp onto.
I'm left bobbing for a gasp of air
being swept out to the sea.
Struggling to loose the tendrils
weighing down my very being
but the current pulls me under
down down down below unseen.
This mighty rope knotted between
all the lies and the deep dark ocean
anchored to each side - a shore,
at war for an eternity.
That twisted, sometimes fragile rope
that holds each side together
that encompasses every waking breath
is the only path left to walk.
6th-Jan-2012 01:17 pm - So where do we go from here....
Where do we go from here...
when all the words have been said
the tears wiped away.
what do we do with this left over mess
what more is there to say
what do i do with this emptiness
with this aloneness
do i turn the page, walk away
do i truely become the bad guy
that you tell me i am

I walk on glass, feeling each footfall
hearing each step create tiny fractures.
I speak in whispers, barely believing
that anything said would, to you, be a sign
that inside I'm being pushed and pulled apart
that I've already given and lost, to you, my heart
The hushed sentiments of a love never spoken
the quiet glances of a longing that goes unnoticed
the painful yearning of just one kiss, one touch,
that moment that will take the hurt away.
so fleeting... before the glass breaks again.

These two hearts that once felt so deeply
that clung to each other, that needed each other
two people who search so long and
truely believed that they had found
something so real in each other.
They have hardened and turned
and have fallen apart under words,
become twisted by a standard
that the other couldn't live up to.
And it the end I believed I would do anything
become anyone
lose myself again.
Take the blame again.
Apologize again.
Hate myself again.
only to wake up alone again.

So where do we go from here.
A line in the sand has been drawn.
That sense of an ending has finally come.
One will walk away the victor
and one will end up the fallen.
One will continue with a life that they'd built,
an everyday - a tomorrow, carrying on.
One will be left holding the pieces,
fragments of whatever is left over.
Left trying to find the strength and the will
to fit everything together again.
20th-Nov-2011 12:52 am(no subject)
Sometimes I feel as if the clock is winding down
that the urgency I feel is telling me what I just don't want to hear
It creates this division within me
what is there that I can do
what would be meaningless
In the end, will it just disappear like the dust that scatters
when that strong wind finally breaks in the door.

Sometimes I strain against the shackles, against the walls
I want to throw myself upon them - ripping them, casting them away
I resist - everything is held in check. Fixed in place.
daring to dream anything
yearning to release.
When morning comes, will that dream just fade
and be forgotten as my eyes adjust to the light

Sometimes I wish there could be words whispered, shouted
meaningful utterances that would bear witness
giving voice to what is so often left unsaid
Will it only scar
the only purpose to wound.
Then only quietly return to what always is
like a shroud - smothering, wrapping, entrapping like a skin

Sometimes I forget all these familiar fallen and tainted pieces
the thousands of fragments of who and what and why I am.
Each and every mask and pretense and falsehood
getting me through
keeping me afloat.
Then what would be left of me
below all these infinite worlds - at my core,
25th-Sep-2011 02:48 pm(no subject)
Living one's life on terms
so many requirements
so many successes and failures
At the core of it all
is what so few admit
what should be hidden
put aside for the greater good

Living one's life
but living it in denial
living the life of illusion
and when the mask slips
when we slip
speak out of turn
cry a bit too much
we make others uncomfortable
but inside we are lost
asking why

the constant struggle for balance
for happiness
for what we see in others
for what we wish to see in ourselves
and when the expectations fall short
we are left with pieces missing
sometimes alone
sometimes our choice
because its just easier
because its safer.
sometimes just because

each and every day
every month every year
watching the lines growing deeper
the hair grayer
the resolve weaker
when the sandbags finally fail
and the floodwaters rush in
and overwhelm
is that the time that we finally
Living one's life on terms
knowing our own failings
does that make things any simpler
or any less
for one who feels every single blow
no matter how firmly planted
no matter how strong the defenses
no matter how removed
does it hurt any less.


All the overused internal words and intent...
    it doesn't bother me
      i don't care
        so what
            get over it...
each of these are the fortifications
each of these are the lies we tell ourselves
clinging to the hope of finding
something loved
and to be trusted.
When we are swept  away in the current
when we are going under -
what are the words and intent
that will finally hold our head under
and silence anything good
anything loved
anything trusted
where will they come from
  a stranger
    an aquantaince
      a friend
        a loved one
each of these produce a thorn
each of these can skillfully cut
but only one of these can truely shatter
what was loved
what was trusted.
It is done.
No more yelling
no more pleading
no more why and if and whos to blame.
For so very long I stood
firm upon this ground of my own lies.
For so very long I truly believed.
Bought into the 'want to be'
and the declarations of 'I am'.
But it was all a ruse.
I am a pretender.
I am a fake.
This mask you all see...
smiling. happy. carefree...
that mask has fallen.
Broken in so many fragments
that there is no hope for repair.
This is all I am now,
this mess.
I gave my heart to you.
I gave up my misgivings.
I trusted.
I loved.
But I was a bad girl.
I was a thief, a twisted parody.
I took, took, took... all these material things.
All that you gave me. All of you.
I accepted these trinkets like love.
I believed that you all believed.
I loved in the hope that you would love in return.
I held no conditions, praying all the while acceptance.
This is all that I am now...
this ruin.
And I would rail against the words that cut so deeply.
I would shout to the highest mountain of my love for you.
I would sit alone, questioning my very existence.
I would fight to hold onto what I had with you.
All of you.
Each one of you.
And I believed the words of those around me.
And I believed that within me was some good.
I trusted and cried and pleaded and professed
But this is all that I am now...
this emptiness.
So you, the last one. The final test.
You whispered sweet words, found my cold heart.
I believed. I so wanted to believe.
You cried ' Trust! Trust in me! I will hold you dear."
But in the end all I can hear is
'you just were never good enough... '
From all of you, these same sentiments.
never good enough.
But still I believed that maybe, if I was just enough,
just enough, but never quite enough.
And this is all that I am now...

Does anyone out there have a clue
just how bad things can get?
When a person tries and tries to make something
of a life that they have previously pissed away.
I sit here and second guess
each and every move, thought, word.
Does anyone out there feel so critical of themselves
and whatever it is that they love to do,
for fear of others not thinking that they are good enough?
And then that one person, that loved person, that trusted one
hits you - not with fists but words.
The cruelest that can be said - meant to cut you down.
Manipulate you into letting all you hold dear go...
To say to me that
No one wants what I offer.
No one hears anything I say.
And when this life has passed...
that will be the end.
No more me. No more wasting time with stupid persuits
No more chances to get it right.
Nothing to show I ever was.
I am a ghost to you, a tool for your own happiness.
Demanding respect when none is shown.
Speaking over me but never listening
because it might contradict your unerring way.
I can work and work at something
so diligently, so faithfully.
But, to you, there is no talent there.
Only time-wasting and frivolous dreams.
YOU have your life. You have your success.
Cant you see that I need to have the same.
No. I am only here to make your life easier
because you give so many THINGS.
And I ungratefully accept them,
and let you walk away...
to do you're own thing. To enjoy you're own time.
I'm only a lowly one. A maid. A whore. A babysitter.
NO one wants anything, NO one would pay
a single cent for what you once called talent.
Thats what your words meant.
I don't care how you MEANT to say them.
I would rather have been punched in the face
than to finally hear your truth after so many years
of telling me that I am good at something.
That I am 'phenomenal' at something...
but then to say 'No one wants your shit...'
out of anger? because my attention
was away from you for a few moments?
Do I really deserve that?
And then I remember those three words that you often repeat.
Not "I love you..."
but "I don't care..."

3rd-Oct-2009 08:12 pm - I just can't fight anymore...
torn open, each wound exposed
the flesh whole, the spirit in ruin.
no more.
it must end.
each and every word from your lips
each callous knife thrown, every accusing glare...
but its all in my imagination, isn't it.
All just a product of my paranoia, my illness.
Its so easy to just say that.
So much easier to just believe that.
And you walk away then
while I beat myself from within.
You walk away...
once you're words have been set free
once your anger and resentment have been satisfied.
You walk away...
and all that is left for me
are the wounds. The words.
Its so easy for you to just say them.
Only words... meant to 'wake me up'
meant to prove your point, emphasize your message.
Only words - they don't matter do they.
Not to you, but you oh, so skillfully wield them.
Like a surgeon's scalpel - clean precise cuts.
Straight on target, outcome just as planned.
But you can never know just how deeply they travel.
You can never, ever, even  for one second,
feel the raw nerves that are assaulted.
Never come close to knowing how very deep the hurt.
You walk away...
and all that is left for me are those words
ringing, echoing within me.
Getting louder with each repetition... drowning out everything else.
And why?
Because I believe you?  Trust you to never lead me astray?
Trust? That you would never really mean them if you love me?
Is that where I must go with this...
ignore them? Pretend that these dagger, thrown in the heat of the moment
pretend that you don't possibly mean to be so cruel.
So unbelievably cruel to the one you claim to love.
You are an expert.
An efficient marksman.
There is barely anymore left to target though, my dear.
You have finally broken this spirit.
All these words have finally hit they're mark.
You've won the fight.
All around me are my screams...
but still silence upon my lips.
All around me for the world to see
are my sins.
and there... all around... the masks that once held in check.
All these fallen husks that encased
each tiny seed that grew into a thick forest.
Now this forest stands bare for the world to see.
Arms outstretched to the heavens
Roots grinding deeper and deeper into the rock,
No leaves to shade, no sap to warm.
All around me are my screams...
but still silence upon my lips.
All around me for the world to see
like fallen leaves.
Are my sins.
Hard and cold as are petrified trees.
Branches outstretched, pleading, yearning, reaching for warmth
aching for ...
Something life giving.
Roots grinding deep into stone... anchoring, solidifying, immobilizing
holding fast...
all things.
All around me are my screams....
but still this silence upon my lips.
Forest laid bare for the world to see...
but passed by, one by one.
All these fallen husks that encased
All these masks that once hid
All these small seeds that have grown
All these screams from silent lips.
Are my sins.
8th-Sep-2001 10:00 pm(no subject)
so what would it take
to make me happy
just how do I go about loving
and finding this life worth living
when will the voices cease
they're endless arguing
too many 'i told you so's'
too much forgiving
and I can't see the light
for all this darkness inside
can't find my way
feeling at walls for the door
that just doesn't exist
because there is no way out
of this prison I call home
no way out of this horror
that swirls within me
with no focus, no purpose
that feeds upon me
with no hope of relief
tiny dark lines upon the smoothness
of the flesh, goes red
goes wet, lets loose the poison
that lies waiting beneith.
5th-Sep-2001 11:16 pm(no subject)
Staring down at my hands,
waiting for a sign of life;
a connection between mind and body
a thought, and idea, something to put onto paper.

Reaching up to move the hair from my eyes
and thinking... trying to grasp just one thought
a solitary and coherent thought.
But there are none.

Beating my hands on my head
trying to knock the words together
trying to form a sentence
trying to find the words that elude me.

But theres just too much in there
too many thoughts, emotions...
all lost in fog, crying out within the chaos
of us, of we. Of the shattered me.

Just a paradox, A freak of nature.
Opposites drawn together then thrown apart.
Tired and aching, twisting and sighing.
Screaming silently within.

..........Well thats pretty crap if you ask me!
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