In the same exact spot
it's warm
and I know I'm holding the pen
the impetus for so much
and victim to all else
playing willing puppet
on the strings of life
watching pennies slip through wooden toes
and becoming a Pinocchio of sorts,
my reality is held in slivered hands
letting lies slip by
like water from my lips
I am foggy pored with them
and they thicken in my system
I'm not sure what I should be seeing anymore
and my eyes are only blue glass
as the light of my lies shatters me
my tongue grows swollen
and I am filled with ash.

It's not about breathing
and it never was
gasping sighs and gentle intakes
I breathe because of what you were for me
the most purple moisture, you
resting beneath my skin
to keep me and to save me
letting blood click slowly by
I never once forgot your voice
or the permanent apologies on your tongue
you were what you were
and I'm empty where you existed
but alive because you did.

It all holds me steady
printed words our best friends
hand carved and gently swelled
having changed so much
under the pulse of time
under my palms,
your stone is soft
and I let you fall away
if only to break your grace
and keep you mine.

It is what it is
perfectly aligned and alphabetized
when the chapped skin lies beneath
and the plastic is clear
but I am luminescent coral
nothing more than the illusion
in your story
and the hole forever
swallowing your veins
bruising you always until
you escape the memory
of my poisonous skin.

keep me broken and slow me down
split my petals and dull my color
life means nothing without suffering
and I've meant nothing without you
I'm a pessimistic soldier
McCarthy's fire on hills of empty
a beast of disgusting proportions
reduced to a painted smile
on the thinnest tin face
I'm crawling like wax on the carpet
slowing
slowing
and drying to plastic unmoving
meaning and knowing nothing
but the feel of broken tin.

It's all gone blurry
and in the middle I can't see straight
with bubble-gum lips,
perhaps the means aren't justified at all
and the end is only shards of glass.

emotion is a scattered thing
burning my throat in so many pieces
and stretching my stitches
until I am rounded
-purple sphered
emotion biting in the blank
I'm smoky and contained
set loose from a child's mouth
a soap bubble swayed by breath
I'm flighty and tense
and cornered
I burst.


A/N:
good god I have a lot to catch up on.

...

I think I may be back.

Doesn't mean much...I think I've just missed it.

Whatever I post, don't take it to heart. If I wrote it, it's because it was in MY heart and I needed it out. I can't help how it sounds or whether it's good or bad, or if it's offensive.

I just need an outlet...again...or I'll go crazy.

-H.

--?

Perhaps I'm back.
I have not yet decided...

It's not as though anyone checks this anymore, but I think I need to say it out loud. Or type it. Either way.

I'm not sure that returning will serve any purpose whatsoever.

I'll give it a week.

-H.