insecurity

insecurity has reaped over me, i feel as though i have never been enough for your love. i have always followed those who have led me into temptation. i feel so nauseated yet desperate for the rewards i hope to reap from this dynamic. yet i know this will not fill the gaping hole in this heart of mine. a part of me does not want it to be true, that not everything i worship is meant to be; that the love can be there without the temptation of touch, the trap of lust. i yearn for you though, one who does not burn the same as i. i crave the connection but i know deep down this ember will never be reciprocated. i ask myself, why do we not blaze the same? for my prayers are strong and pious. why has my flame sparked to a blue hue while yours never caught? no matter how much coal or wood i add to yours, it would never combust the way it did for her. somehow though you still bring out the deepest works of art from my being, adding fuel to fire long after your departure. i feel like a machine of metal, pumping out various products from this fleshy factory. i question, why cannot i not do the same for myself? i am worthy of the burning love i give to others. i suppose all is never fair in the game of love though. once again though, i am begging on my knees like a child in front of a chapel, afraid of what she cannot see but only what she has felt for him. the insecurity i get from your presence rises up like a fervid fire from god; he who i do not believe in, but you who has made me to.

Death

As each day passes, I think more and more about Death. His lingering face and tailing presence haunts my heart. I feel that Death could only be a Man, for what else would stalk a woman, hit her unexpectedly, shame her heart, sully her image and break her body down bit by bit? She awaits his arrival around every corner and cranny, for how long until he preys on her again? Always lurking in the shadows in the back of her mind, waiting for the right moment to strike. Although he does not discriminate, death favors the hearts of women who love the most.

Hollow Shell

Lately the Earth has felt barren and my shell hollow. For reasons indescribable, my temperament grows colder and icier towards you. I feel as though my extended hand has been met with dejection. The displacement of my feelings run deep in my core, causes of which not even my consciousness could dig out. My fear is that of a reflection in the mirror; how the sun shines elsewhere but through my very own windows. How is it that one singular being can destroy the buildings i’ve built up for so long? This time is fleeting and I know that so well, as yesterday I was only 12. But today I am 22, and asking that you only accept my conditions of my hollow shell.

On display for all, lucifer!

my inner world seems to be shake by your words. i crave your intimacy, but only on my conditions. you rattle and irritate me to my core, and i simply want solitude. yet i lead you, like a dog on a leash to the depths of your hell. i am your master, your owner, your very own lucifer. in the past, i’d be okay with this dynamic. the work would’ve been easier to that of a demon; but now, i strive for the peace of retirement. hang up the chains, close up shop and dissapear from your life; i do not want you here anymore. whether my disdain is of my own accordance or of your own actions, i bid you farewell regardless. you have struck a nerve and opened up a wound in my heart, not to your own complete fault though. we are slaves to the body and serfs to the soul. i cannot fathom a life with another being though, let alone my mirrored self. hang up your chain and leave me be, as you will be most pious in your decision.

in a nutshell

The anger rises up from me like a seed from the ground. An imperfect, rotten oak tree sprout that flourishes in drain of another’s resources. How deep is the anger, really truly rooted? My arms branch out and out, but with no one to guide me to the light but myself. There are chippings at my base, heaving into my core. The axe chops away at my body; the need to bleed is present but not possible. What else would hurt me other than a piece of my own flesh? That’s irony in a nutshell.

till the end

My heart is heavy and my soul docile, my path is not paved and I can’t seem to pick up the shovel. This profound stagnancy has cost my love and patience; I am ashamed of what I lay in bed with each night. That being to my left is not of my own nature, she is an alien of intense apathy. Remorse is not of her nature and rehabilitation is a word of another language. Now my enemy, I am mortified that she may be my only friend in the very end of it all. Frightened that her grip will never loosen, and I will fall ill to this unimaginable affliction in my mind.

my first breath

I look up at the stars and wonder how did the world turn out this way? How can one look at the same sky as I and want to destroy all those who may view it? This knot in my throat won’t go away; my body recognizes Her state and holds it very dearly. But why must we continue to deny our roots?; for She is what gives us our first senses. Sometimes I wish to just join the worms and buds, leave this decay all behind. But I know I must carry on in the face of adversity; for one knows that you can take and destroy Her, but it will be She that takes your last breath.

dopplegangers

Who are you in my head? Maybe its some sort of reconciliation, I look at you and see a mirrored reflection of him. Although he may be your twin, you are less bitter and more digestible to my insides. Every moment with him was one of morbid indigestion, a persistent feeling of regurgitation that filled the air all around. I feel the bitter excitement come up like a wave of deja vu, looking into your soft eyes thinking about what could’ve been with him. A part of me wants to claw onto you and never let you go, for fear that you will run away like he did back then. I want to crawl into this dark hole and lie with you, as my heart still mourns his death even with his Doppleganger next to me.

the bear

A bear wouldn’t joke with you because a bear would just kill you. A bear wouldn’t stalk you because it felt rejected, rape you because it wanted superiority, and humiliate you because it was a sadist. It would only kill you out of survival; a man would kill you out of ego. The lowest species is not of gentility like a bear, its that lacking of it. They think in all their superiority you are deserving of our flesh, but a bear wouldn’t think that way. That is why the bear is chosen.