I’m beginning to squirm
At the idea of a world
That wants to be equal to
The men inside it.
Who said that our men are free?
These eyes are shrouded in blindness
Someone needs to teach us how to see again.
We ascribe standards
to what beauty is
One woman claiming
Her next best conviction
Ruffled. Unruffled.
Perfect
Imperfect.
All these definitions
Seem to insinuate
Something ignorant in the other.
If only we could stop measuring
And weighing
And working to prove something
To ourselves.
To the world.
To the atmosphere.
Beauty does not want to be labled.
Eyes wide
I storm into your night
Paralized you
You can see fire through me
Come closer
I burn in the prismatic
Pages of your mind
Each bend
A fading impression of me
I can’t un-crease
Come closer
You can see the parts of me
I cut off for you. . .
I cringe like a crippled
Toddler
As my pieces burn. . .
Yet you count the
Ways in which you accept me.
Me. The broken child.
The wounded.
The torn.
The different.
The Unknowing
The babe of retribution
She who does not know.
I visit places
I cannot go to
Climbing hideous mountains
You have not seen
My eyes burn
From the altitude
As I rise up from dead
In your dreams
How far I have gone
I can no longer
See
But I know you exist
In all your acceptance of me
Grateful as I am.
But say,
Come find me
In this ever sweet
Ecstasy of my love for you.
Were you to enter
Through my chambers
In the sky
You’ll find me.
In Rage.
Look,
I told myself the poetry was over
That you were gone
And I could whisper your name
In a quiet quiver
No one will ever hear. . .
Look,
It has almost been a whole year
Since the earth flickered
With the glitch that was your leaving
Look,
My heart still heaving
Claws at the mountain that
Will not overflow
I am an endless sum of all the things I will be, no more.
Your essence tosses and turns
As I Try to make you move
Further than my mind can recall
I am losing this tug of war with time
I miss being able to call you mine
Look,
The tear rolls into a drop that will not leave
My chest forever
In the precipice of a heave
Falling, hurling into a soundless wail
Look,
This mind, so frail
It won’t let me cry. . .
This monumental transformation of my life
Smeared in this Bastard pain
Look,
All is empty from within.
And you disappeared, into the sky.
Image Courtesy: Ninja 1987 http://www.newgrounds.com/art/view/ninja1987/corporate-slaves
Black Whole-d soft hearts
bleeding stunted pride
Closed cold congregations
Bloated minds
Dodging bullets
Tossing knives of Accusations
Forgiving themselves
With each winning strike
Wasted Time.