Beautiful Blue BlouseIn the store it was beautiful,So blue and so new.Hanging on the rack,The blouse was calling my name.I removed it from the rackAnd peered at the tag in delight.Half-price and on clearance?How could I resist?I brought it to the counterAnd swiped my credit card.But in the car ride homeI looked in the passenger seatAt the pretty blue blouse,And began to have some doubt.I took it in the house,And was dumbfounded for a moment.How could somethingThat looked so great on the rackLook so terrible in my home?I felt ashamed and discouragedWhen I realized that IHad pictured the blouseOn a mannequin.But I decided to keep it,So I took out the scissorsTo remove the last pieceOf The New.I swiped off the tags,And, alas, I was right:The blouse would not change me,And I changed it.It was now a part of me,And now lives in the Closetof the other Clothes That Don't Work,Because it can't change me,And neither can I.
HauntingWith a simple helloYou can make me flinchEven when you aren't here.In my sleepI see your face and awakeSo sweaty I'm cold.Thinking of your countryBrings tears to myBloodshot, sleepless eyes.You scare me to piecesEven though I haven'tSeen you in years.
ImprisonedImprisoned in your pleasure,My legs wrapped 'round your waist,I fake a smileIn my defense.A teasing bite,A painful slap,And derogatory namesBursting from your bloodstained lips.These moments will hauntThe blackened lids of my eyesAs long as my heartContinues to pulse.
The Death of MeI hold on to youLike a murderess holds her knife:Close enough to conceal the weapon,And tight enough to slice my skin.You are the alcohol in a glassThat my body downs in gulps:Enough to quench the dying thirst,And enough to poison the still living parts of me.You're the bullet of a gunWhose trigger I repeatedly pull:The gun does not kill me,But you still do.You're the disease that poisonsMe inside out;The more I try to rid myself of you,The farther your hands reach.You're the ink in my penWhich I continue to useDespite the factThat I know it can't help me.I'm too far gone,And you are too strong.So I know that youWill be the death of me.Goodbye world,And goodbye knives.Goodbye hatred, dishonesty,And goodbye betrayal.That's all the world is made of anyway.
ReasoningI don't pray to sleepAnd not wake in the morningBecause of a promise to youI never fulfilled.(Don't flatter yourself.)I bleed to rememberThat I am still aliveI do it becauseMy tears are not enoughTo remind meOf the pain I haveOr the atrocities I have endured.I don't destroy myselfTo die.I die becauseI can't destroy myself.
Lose My MindSome think I haveLost my mind,And I'm certifiablyInsane.I'd love to loseMy mind today!Then, what could youHaunt?
DancingMost people that dieDo it and goAs if choreographedFor a dance recital.So I don't know whyI'm here.I must have missedThe dress rehearsal,Because my shit is notChoreographed.So many goToo young. Unready!When I would gladly giveMyself for them.And that's not brave.That's cowardly.But I'm so beyond finished,I don't even give a damn.So I pivot when I should plié,And I straddle when I should split,And I twirl so much that I don't know where I am!And I'm not even a dancer.But I would give my lifeFor someone else's.I know that for a fact.So judge me, hate me,Cut me and stab me.You can't do any worse to meThan I've done to myselfWhilst dancing.
The Rustling and the LanternProud and confidentShe carried the lantern.Her chin held highShe pranced to face the world.But the world was so far!And she walked with feetThat were bare as the restOf her body.She slowed her paceAnd listened to the forestWhen she beganTo hear a rustle.She raised her lanternAnd squinted her eyes,But saw nothing.So she ran.Her naked bodyFloated through the forestAway from the scaryRustles.Once the noisesStopped scaring the girl,She stopped runningTo catch her breath.But the noise cameToo quickly to her,And,quiet easily,Turned off the lantern...
MirrorSometimes I thinkYou are my enemyThat I must somehowDefeat.But I know I willNot see you again,So how may youBe blamed?I constantly searchFor another to blame,But my options are somewhatLimited.So I look in the mirrorTo find second best,And the scapegoat's hornsNearly burst from the glass.Some thinkI'm blaming myself!But that is beyondUntrue.I can't blame me(Trust me, I've tried)But I can certainly blame the mirrorFor being so damn fragile.