cyclical decay.an apple falls and hits the headof a seamstress in a straight jacketwho ties her knots a bit too tightlyand can't crawl out of her own skin, butshe smiles like a jackal and plays gameswith the school children in the gardenthat visit her when class is over. theybring her wood and coals so she canset herself on fire when the moon comesto scold her in the night. by dawn, sheis ashes and loose threads, but has justenough time to repair herself by noon.
Where the monsters do dwellI once was afraid of the monsters in my closetAnd of the ghouls under my bedBut even they do quake in fear of those that reside inside my head.
What happened?I am from a century I wish to escapeJustin Bieber, One Direction, and YOLO swagWhere if you are intelligent, you’re strangeBut cool if your pants sagCan anyone explain that to me?I am from boy bands, but I listen to rockSparkly pink, neon skinny jeansHow do I stand out in all black?Everyone else looks the same to meThis generation is way out of whackI am from lol, rofl, and omgSrsly wht if we rlly talkd like this?Where has English gone?Surely this is not the same thingShakespeare must be rolling in his graveI am from the 21st centuryWhere intelligence is neglectedBoy bands are worshipedAnd there is no music on MTVWhat happened?And how can we fix it?
Sticks And StonesSticks and StonesSticks and stones will break my bones,But words will slowly kill meHurricanes will break my home,But storms will never kill meDeath is not an experience,we can wait for in life*Guns will be the death of me,If I pull the triggerCuts from Knives will make me bleed,But bandages will heal themEmotions though can cut deeper,Hearts will never heal. Bombs will shatter my city,love will shatter life Hate will destroy this world,Friends the only shelter **The world will be left broken, My words will describe it...Feedback is appreciatedBut only if you want to;>
the architecture of eggshellslet's talk aboutthe words we won't talk about.in the grey cube skybuses flow as quicksilver.orchestrated society--science.make a flowerwiltin frosted dew.giggle in rattlesuntil it diffusesinto disappointment.sigh in reliefat the lack of contactwith regret. friendsvia geography.a smashed duality.opposites attractthe ugly qualities.the most humane bombs.
excuses for why I'm shakingwe live in a world of apologies.I made a mistake a year back,choosing my addiction to oxygenover less demanding things.I’m sick of trembling for problemsthat aren’t mine and I’m sick of tryingto romanticize black holes andthe indiscriminate nature of lithium andI’m sick of waking up every morningfeeling sick. and truly, I’m sorrybut I’m not ready to accept my rolein the making of myself. I’m not readyto lament for those with a smallerpain tolerance, and for my dislikeof anything that requires commitment.I’m sorry I miss you and I’m sorryI won’t admit that out loud.how scary is it to be somethingso unalterably heavy, to be diagnosedas your own worst enemy, but god,you’re so fucking beautiful,and not in the stereotypical boymeets girl meets fairytale way, butthe kind that makes my heartbleed a million miles quicker.I just wanted to cry on allyour scars and wash them clean.when things are bad for
Voice“She’s so quiet. Does she have a voice?”“Speak for yourself. Don’t make me do your talking.”“You must not be very smart if you can’t talk.”“She thinks she’s so high and mighty, she won’t even deign to speak to us.”Sticks and stonesAre blissCompared to wordsFlung with intent to maimEach is a blowShattering my ribsBruising my eyesAnd keeping mequieterand quieter“I heard she’s emo or something. She’s probably thinking about how best to kill herself.”“Don’t be stupid. She’s not thinking at all.”Assumptions and presumptionsBut never enough gumptionTo ask me myself—It all ends in abruptionWorst of allIs when not one punchIs thrown at me at allI’m an apparition, a wraith, a specterEverythingexcepta banshee“Don’t talk to her. Just ignore her.”Their beatingsMust be