Shattered Echo

I had always been attracted to the dark side of life,
But this attraction turned to be deadlier then I anticipated,
And I’m left with the terrors of your memory,
The ways you shattered me and attempted to glue me back together,
Your toxins clinging and seeping through my barriers
Hollowing out my defenses, ruining the best parts of me.
I’m still scrubbing the remains of you off me.
You and I go back and forth, always out doing the other.
But this time you’ve crossed into unfamiliar waters,
Leaving me to drown in the aftermath of your storm.
But your touch has left me in a state of disrepair,
My confidence crumbing faster than the dry wall beside my head.

So take your hands off me, get away from me,
And pray the scars won’t leave a lasting effect,
But it’s so easy you to forget your place,
To fall back into harmful habits, my skin carries the remains of you,
The bruises last longer when everyone is around to question them.
And they fade slow, tortuously slow,
As to remind me of the lasting damage you cause
So my body rebels at the sound of a closing door, an angry voice in the crowds, the discoloration you left along my skin,
I see it when I close my eyes, the darker parts of my skin throbbing with hurt and pain,
I stroke those broken galaxies you left along my skin, though they’ve long faded by now,
Yet, I still feel I can see them in the wrong lighting, in the wrong time, wrong place,
Just like the excuses you used to give.
But I won’t let this shattered echo of you define me for long,
And soon you’ll be just another face in the crowd, a faded part of my colorful past
Just another memory to reflect back on I suppose, just like old lovers do.

A Wine too Bitter

You’ll find me waiting in the shadows of the hotel bar,
Reminiscing memories that haven’t left my mind,
Burned with the ashes of what remains of the love I held for you.
You look like the promise of a ‘what if’ and the anxiousness of an unknown tomorrow,
Like the ember that lite when you first touched me.
You look as beautiful as the day I told you I loved you,
But we are far from the children we used to be and our eyes have lost their innocence.
So we talk like old friends, never straying far from reality.
And I wish you would whisper to me and kiss my lips,
If only to know I still held a false sense of power over your heart.
And it’s nice to believe we will never get older,
But life has a funny way of reminding us that we are far from immortal,
Gracing us with broken hearts and scars from those lovely memories,
Leaving us to reform the pieces into an already faded puzzle.

I know it breaks your heart to know I’ve fallen for my freedom,
Cutting ties with lost lovers and promises of a forsaken future,
No, we never had more than the nights of broken love made in your car,
And I never held onto you to find solace,
So you lash out with passionate delusions, and I answer with obvious indifference,
As I sip a wine too bitter on my tongue, I listen to our lies and embellishments.
Silently laughing at how unsophisticated we’ve become.
Our lips tinted with those promises of what ifs and anxious secrets.

So baby, it was nice to see you after so many years,
But life awaits us outside the doors of our enclosed booth,
And I hope the best for you and your new life,
(Though I think the wine had more influence over my words than my heart,)
I kiss your cheek as we prepare to leave each other once more.
Filled with a newfound sense of comfort,
I wonder into the street with a smile,
Never once glancing behind me to see your lingering eyes

The Silence in a Crowd

Vainly I sat myself upon a glass throne; only to be mutilated by it’s hidden shards.
What a heavy burden to be digging into my head
Dripping down from the crown, clouding my eyes with blood,
Fractured remains of myself gaze hauntingly back; unaware of the damage they’ve suffered, endured. At my own hands, at yours, who could have known?
The blood pools around my feet, fallen from my eyes, my heart,
Clinging to a downfall only pride can up hold.
This bleeding heart can only take so much ‘til it can’t pump enough sense to my brain, and self-preservation is a trait I wish I didn’t excel in.
So the only way I could escape, became my prison cell,
Breaking over and over again as I sit unaware,
Its mirror surface reflecting only what I willed.

Is this what bliss feels like?
Knowing all the bad to come, the wrongs and how ugly it will become,
But shielding myself from it through lies and unearned privileges,
Knowing that no matter how I wish, the struggle is never mine to claim?
But this bleeding heart can only sustain life for one,
I wish I could save you; but I must save myself first,
And while my glass prism is so lovely from the inside,
I know the outside is covered with dirt and shame and betrayal from those I have yet to cross paths with.
So help me off my throne, take this crown of my head,
Let me clear my sense of self before I wash myself of these sins
Help me understand why this glass throne is not worth the kingdom it reigns over,
And for you, I will give you what is left of a heart that is fighting to survive,
Fighting to maintain these fractured pieces and assemble them as a whole,
With enough sense to carry these thoughts from thought to speech,
And who lips you would be proud to kiss in space of a cheering crowd.

For a Moment

We signed our cards with love and kissy faces,
Been through hell and back, braving the darkest of places,
And you got down on your knee, if only for a moment.
Our love produced something beautiful and pure,
And I sat in the bathroom with the fifth test, just to make sure,
I was so scared and anxious, if only for a moment.
Showered with gifts and cards,
Signed with love and best regards,
Everything was perfect, if only for a moment.

The pain in my stomach increases, though everyone said I was okay,
“Never trust the doctors,” my father would say,
I watched the crimson trail fall down my leg, if only for a moment.
Fifteen hours of labor, I hear everyone’s cries and gasps, expect for one
I imagined this moment with smiles and laughter, but there are none,
The silence was deafening, if only for a moment.
They wrap him in blue, as if nothing is wrong,
“You need to hold your son”, “Be strong”.
All I see is his face, though only for a moment,
And he was beautiful, if only for a moment.

sugar coated

Screw you,
And this attempt at making nice,
I’m sick of the sugar-coated words,
It sticks to my tongue,
Burns the roof of my mouth,
And what comes out is acid and fire,
Ready to fight whatever comes my way,
Because this isn’t what we made it to be,
Not what we intended, anyway,
And what we have left,
Well, isn’t much to speak of,
Unless we’re screaming back and forth,
That acid coating and sealing us into a cycle,
Until we have nothing left but that fire,
A fire that one could say was passion and love,
But we know it to be hate and resentment
Because it burns hotter, not warmer,
And I think, screw you, to whoever is listening,
For allowing such a corruption to take hold of both our hearts…


What if we did this thing all in the open?
I knew the corners you snuck around,
You knew the shadows I hide in…
What if we knew who the other saw
Who we were spending the night with,
When I wasn’t with you, and you weren’t with me,
What if we came out into the daylight,
And admitted we were open to suggestion,
Not under the moon and her stars,
Because clearly we needed the help,
Needed the chance to claim we weren’t exclusive,
Weren’t everything the other needed,
And that hurts,
To not be everything you need, everything you want
But I know it’s bigger than me, maybe,
I can’t be sure anymore,
What if is such a dangerous game,
For me and you,
Should we take a chance, and hope to get lucky.
Or shall we play that what if game once more,
And hope we open up just enough to figure out where we lie in this mess…?

my skin is made of ink and bone

My skin is made of ink and bone,
Covered in ivory, laced in a poison of steel and grace,
Ready to feel and yell, to know what it means to be alive.|
Let me tell my story, as I bleed it onto the pages,
Scattered and torn but still legible to the right pair of eyes.
Let me know that it’s okay to feel things like rage and sorrow and pity,
Let my skin be torn and sown, ripped apart and mended all at the touch of another.

After everything, emotions drawn and torn from me in a silent cry
Let me rest easy in the darkness I’ve created.
No smothering, no chaos, just the thoughts I’ve tried to run from, and me.
Let me face them head on,
Give me the strength to change them and the voices that scream at me from inside.
Only then will I split and change, forming a new version better than I am now,
Buried in the ashes of the fallen monsters and shrapnel
Pray you find me among the rubble.

My skin is made of ink and bone,
Sharp and permanent, forever haunting,
Mixed with the chaos of beauty and the saving grace of Lucifer.
Let me show you what it means to be alive,
For I have felt it all within my emotions and the pages I’ve bled into.
Powerful words stolen from a hollow prayer,
Your lips lingering, kissing the scars you’ve left deep in my skin.
Know that you created a beautiful tragedy,
And she will forever be in your debt,
My skin is made of ink and bone,
Covered in ivory, laced in a poison of steel and grace,
She has been through hell and back with me, clinging to all the damage and
magnificence life has already offered.

lost magic

Feel like I’ve lost my magic,
Lost is the storm, engulfed by the thunder and rain,
Or maybe I burned it,
In the fires I seem to set when I’m mad,
When I’m sad,
When I’m…running from everything,
I feel like then magic died the night I let you take me,
One swift thrust,
Your mouth bruising mine as it swallows my cries,
And the ember dies along with my heart,
Well, maybe just pieces,
For someone without a heart couldn’t miss the love and magic she once
Something so fragile and precious,
Gone in an instant,
I wasn’t ready for that, not yet,
But you took it without so much of a question,
And left me to the mundane morning,
Alone and out of touch with this new world I was thrust into


You still leave a bitter aftertaste,
Like too much vodka down in one shot,
Or too much love forced into this sheltered heart of mine.
But you will always be my drink of choice,
When I’ve had more than my tolerance will allow,
When I can’t think straight anymore and it’s habit to reach for you,
That is when I will say I miss you, I miss us, I miss…whatever this feeling is.

I miss your head between my thighs,
And my mind would quiet for you and the talents you sculpted with that tongue,
I miss the bruises that dances along my skin,
It reminded me of when you couldn’t keep your hands off me,
A time when it was easier to talk with our bodies and the notes they sang.
I used to miss the way I could make you whimper,
Make you beg for more, of me, of what I could do with my hips,
But I’ve come to find that it wasn’t those sounds I wanted,
It was your vulnerability; it was you, lost in a moment that was just the two of us,
And it was a moment I would never forget.

It was the hoarseness in your voice after a night of fucking,
It was the messiness of you hair as it curled from the sweat,
The way you looked at me like I was the thing that made your world sparkle,
That thing that made you want to continue every day, like it was your last,
But most of all, I miss the way you made me into a better person,
A person that could be herself in all her imperfections and wrongs,
Yet strong enough to let her guard down around those she loved.
But that girl left when you walked away,
Not out of hate, nor was she unloved, but because our timing was never the best.
So now she never lingers long with anyone new,
Always finding favor with strangers who wouldn’t dare call more than twice.
Because it’s easier to keep them at bay, an arms length from her heart.
Never letting anyone in has become her best strength and greatest weakness,
But for all I my strength, my tears still find me when my hearts aches for you,
I see you in my imperfections, in the detachment that has become second nature,
And I can’t help but miss you.
In a way, my heart will never attach itself to another as long as you exist.
My almost lover, my almost everything…

Pawns of the King & Queen

I can’t tell what I feel for you, infatuation or devotion, lust or love,
But the affects feel the same, and I’m left tongue tied and flustered,
A friendship left to define itself within the boundaries.
But these thoughts are so loud, screaming at me to define what this means to us, what this is.
We went down this road before, thinking we could change each other,
And all we got were biting kisses, bruised lips, torn skin; two damaged hearts that clung together as they drowned.
So I guess all that’s left is to hang onto every work spoken, clinging to what is open to interpretation.
When I’m sober these thoughts rack my brain, stealing my breath and fluttering the butterflies, but, the more I drink the more, those feelings aren’t as strong,
So maybe I’m a safer drunk than I realize,
Or maybe the affection I have for you drowns in the alcohol I chose to let course through my veins, numbing the affects you have on my heart and me.
Which I thought had been so guarded.

Either way, I feel like this is a dangerous game we chose to play,
Kings and queens roaming the board without a care for the pawns beneath us,
Laughing as our knights fight for whatever is left scattered across the board.
Despite this game we play, I still feel as though I should have been warned,
Feelings this strong should come with a warrant—
‘Caution to this victim, she can only take so much of you until she bleeds,
And this time her heart might not be able to come back form it’.

I can’t let us drown for a second time
And you shouldn’t want to swim in these dark waters with me,
So let us say our goodbyes and cut off all ties,
And I will look back on this fondly, a lesson I needed to learn the hard way,
And maybe one day when we meet again on the board
Our pawns will be able to defend and protect.
Or maybe we will be different rulers all together,
A king with the power to not only break, but mend what he damaged,
A Queen whose lips are red from the lips she kisses, not the blood she spills,
And her heart will no longer be worn on her ripped sleeve.