Powerless

I don't know what is with me,
Doting on your everything
And I can't stop myself.
I'm just your puppet
And you taunt me by placing
A pair of scissors in front of me.

And you stuff my mouth with
A wad of your words
Silencing my objections,
I've never felt this kind of powerlessness
It makes me want to die
And I might as well be.

Does it make you happy
To see me struggle thus?
What have I ever done
To deserve this?
What is wrong with me?
Who am I supposed to be?

I don't even feel the pain anymore
Just breathlessness,
A suppression, a numbness,
And if I cried any more
There would be grooves on my cheeks
And it would be flooding over.

It's like screaming and no one can hear you
And I am so alone, so alone
I am going insane, with these two sides of me,
Schizophrenic, paranoid, bipolar,
And I'm so scared the dark side will win
I'm so scared of you, of losing you, of losing myself.

How do you do it? Such masterful skills,
Convincing me, overpowering all of me...
And I nod silently, with tears brimming my eyes,
"Yes, I'm only as good as you say I am."
"I'll do anything," I whispered pathetically,
"If you will just let me stay..."

So if you love me, please
Save me or let me go.

The Arsonists

Men with twisted minds
Haunt me in my dreams
They are strangers 
With familiar faces
Setting fire to my feet.
The glowing in their eyes 
Reveals a delight
At my inability to leave.
The smoke clouds my eyes,
As I whispered, "Why?"
Forgetting who I'm supposed to be.
They watch as I burn,
A proud accomplishment,
And whisper back,
"Stay here, and be like me."

Fury

I hate to waste a post here to write about this, but I felt it had to be done because I'm angry it happened. Let me start off by explaining why I even have this blog in the first place. The reason why I have this blog is because I love to write. I don't write for anyone, I write for myself. This is the only way I can express myself wholly. I get inspired by things that happen in my life and I write it down. This is an outlet. This is where I can be myself.

Sometimes when people want to know how I am feeling and whatnot, I like to refer them here, simply because I am honest in my poetry. I don't lie in my poetry. Things may change, but I don't lie in those words, in those moments. I don't mind if people read my work. Sometimes I am happy that I have an audience. And sometimes I am excited to show someone a piece of work that I am proud of. Bottom line is, I don't mind sharing my work for people to read.

But that doesn't mean you can abuse it.

Every art is open to interpretation and I think it's great if someone else read my work in a different light than I intended -- it means that the person thought and related to my words. But that doesn't mean the interpretation is necessarily correct. I, ultimately, hold the meaning to my work because I wrote it. No one else holds that authority. So before jumping to conclusions about what I've written, would it not be better to ask me about it? I admit I am not always articulate (hence why I use the poetic form), but at least let me explain?

I am always flattered when someone compliments my work or want to discuss them with me because it means that he/she found it interesting or compelling. And most of the time, I am up for the dissection of my words. But sometimes not. That's why I have my comments disabled because I don't want to hear how you read my poems; I don't want to know. It's not that I am egotistic and I don't want to hear any criticisms, but this is my home. I don't want any potential vandalism or people giving me shizzles about things-- these words that I have crafted-- that I hold dear. I know I don't always produce the best poems (some are downright bad), but they are mine nonetheless and I love them all the same because they grew with me. These poems are, essentially, my life. I gave breath to them.

You don't have the right to steal them.

The least you could do is just ask. It's not like I'm going to say no to you outright. When you take my words without permission, it's like me going into your house and stealing your things or kidnapping your children. Same concept. (Well not that I'm going to ask you if I could steal your things or kidnap your kids first, but you know what I mean.) It's an invasion, it's a burglary. And I am appalled.

To the person who felt he can just prance in here, copy and paste my poem, and use it for his own (inappropriate) means, you know who you are. Stop it or I will take actions.

I can very easily just shut this down, but I love this blog. I've had it for many years. It's a quick catharsis for me when I need it. Don't make me move. Don't make me hide myself. My words have no other purpose than to hold my memories and emotions, and they are meant for me to read. I share them because there isn't any harm to it. You like my poetry? That's great, thanks! You don't? Then just leave. My words don't hurt anyone-- if they do, it's not my words' doing, but your own mind's, your own heart's.

I think that's about all I have to say. Thank you for reading.
Promise the next post is poetry. x

In Your Hands

You push me and push me
And now I'm finally on the edge,
Is this where you want me to be?
As rocks crumble from the ledge
Down down into the dark fall,
You start your ridiculous accusations
When I've done no wrong, so still I stand tall.
And so I've come to a resigned realization
As I take a defeated step back,
You continue on with your empty words
And with the understanding that you lack,
You push me off, yet cry afterwards,
And as I'm falling, my heart bleeds out
And you stare down seemingly horrified,
I thought, "Is this all you want us to be about?"
This is your work glorified.

Blank

My life is a crumbling sandcastle,
The one you helped me build,
I watch, still and emotionless,
As your unforgiving waves come crashing,
Washing away all that I am,
Wiping away all my dear memories.

My heart stopped beating
The moment you walked away,
The doctors pronounced me dead, so
They carried out an autopsy on my heart
Hoping to find some secrets and answers,
But they gasp, finding it eerily empty and hollow.

And I don't know how to survive
When every time I fall apart,
You prevent me from piecing myself together
And I'm never whole anymore
And I become even more fragile, for
I am drained of any passion or love.

I'm kneeling on the floor, my vision a blur,
As I hold the pieces of my life in my hands,
I'm trying to put it back together,
But my tears dilute the glue, and it's all a mess,
I close my eyes and emit a soulless sigh,
And I feel nothing at all.

Glass

I watched them fall, one by one,
And I saw my image in them,
I am the teardrops that fall
From my eyes onto the desk top.
They are the insects that flew
Blindly into the windshield,
They are the dishes I threw
Angrily onto the floor.
They burst open and break apart,
Some tiny little liquid shards,
And it hurts me to touch them,
And it hurts me to watch them
Fall like so, die like so,
And I can't stop them,
I can't help myself.

Play-Doh

You held me in your hands
And you dug your fingers
Into my flesh, leaving a mark there
Then you cover it up,
But I've felt it and I will always feel it.
You mold me into shapes
To your liking
And I am powerless against you,
Your domineering ways,
As I lay still in your hands.
You pry me open
And you are happy when you do so,
Hoping to find some secret,
But this is all I am,
But still, you put me through
Grueling processes and manipulations,
You breed guilt in me,
Then bleed me out to see its effects,
And one day, I won't cry anymore,
My tears will dry, my blood will dry.

A Misunderstanding

I am the contents of a glass you toppled over,
Rain splayed across your window,
You trace each droplet with your finger tip,
I can feel your warmth through the glass,
Until I disappear off of the surface,
Falling to darkness.

You turned and walked away,
Turning off the lights as the storm raged on.
I'm knocking on your window,
But you don't hear me amidst all other noises.
You think I have left you,
When I have the same thoughts about you too.

The swirling ceiling with crawling shadows,
Dance to my silent tears,
Performing an act of hypnosis, and
As I lay staring, hopelessly lost,
Tossed into the sea with a straitjacket on,
I wonder how you felt.

I am thrown into the depths of my mind,
I am held prisoner by realities that do not exist,
I dreamt of you, but I am afraid --
Guilt by the mistakes I did not make.
I am running from you,
In hopes you will choose to chase after me.

But when I turned around,
All I saw, was darkness.

Shelled

There's always a need
To protect yourself
From potential harm
And I am secluded
And reclusive
And I'm happy.
But even when I am wrapped
And warm
I can still feel
The cold you brought in
With you.

Indifference

Your dismissive waves and ways
Send me flying to the wall
As if you hit me at full force
And I cower in the corner,
Hoping that the shadows will shield me,
Using darkness to combat yours,
But you walk away, effortlessly,
The fingers from your shadow
Edging closer and closer
I scream and recoil,
But you just keep on walking.

Ghost

My life is the toppled-over glass of water,
Impossible to recollect unless time can be rewound.

I hate this place but I can't leave,
Bounded by a paperless contract of obligation.

I am a broken Magic 8 ball,
My answers have even less meaning.

I am the descending snow mortalized,
Grounded then trampled black by thousands of feet.

Your words are like shit coming out of your intestines,
Fertilizing the pestilent weeds that strangle flowers.

I have become that insensitivity, the absence of
The tingling sensation when hot water runs over cold hands.

A person you deemed worthless
When did I die? I do not know.

The False Friend

All those maddening and rabid cells
Are rapidly multiplying, as it spreads
From the site of infection,
The chunk of my life you bit off.
When I looked back on the times
All those seemingly sunny rainy days
I was deceived by my own happiness
Which was not a difficult trick.
As a transparent red screen
Descends before my eyes,
I see with fitful passion
The lifeless you before me, so clearly.
I was blinded by my naivety
To have placed trust in you,
You, a parasite, the most lowly kind,
Feeding on the host until it dies.
And despite my transformation,
Caused by your dirty hands
I will not lose my humanity
Which is permanently absent in you,
I don't want to waste more of my life on you
As I turn my back and walk away,
Letting distance dissociate our link.

Your Cruelty

Dear, dear, pass the salt
I want to watch each crystal melt
Into the wounds you've torn open
Me, to the edge you've driven
Should I jump or am I to fall,
It's completely your Highness's call
I have no where to run
For in your hands lies a gun
Loaded with bullets that will not miss
Will death be a bliss?
I'll tell you when the ground and my blood kiss.

Running

Like water spilled over the edge
I'm crashing to the ground

I'm a yolk broken in the hot, dark frying pan
My insides splattered over black and white

I'm tied to the kite
The little girl refuse to let fall

I'm the piece of thread in your shirt
That got caught in some sharp object

I'm a clothe that held too much dye
The colours dispersed in your laundry

Like a pair of old running shoes
I'm loved then discarded.

The Culprit

You, you were the one,
Who pushed me into the bottomless pit,
The trip that caused my fall,
Stole my love and sold it to Russia,
Humiliate me in front of the seas of people,
Who hurt me without touching me,
The one who blinded my rationality,
It was you all along.

The Antagonist

The misunderstood person
The hated one
The one that everyone hopes
To have the worst outcome
The shunned one
The one who seemed to feed on darkness
Grows on evil
The one without a heart
The one with the cold glare

I feel like that person.

Arrow

You left a hole in my heart.

Happy 50th post. <3 span="span">