Smudged

I tried to show you just how much you mattered
but you left me in the dust my simple heart shattered
You're so consumed in the toxic poison you buy
just like a junkie, there's no way to deny
that when you think, you think of only you
not of the girl you love, the real true blue.
So break my heart, but pick up the pieces
I can't stand a life with you, the drama never ceases.
Quick to complain about a life that's so mundane
as you fill my life with pain, yet still you can't explain
what makes a heart so cold
and when did misery become all that I know?
The sedative you slipped is slowly wearing off
and I'm coming into a reality lost.
So aware of the treachery, the karma, the deceit
you can never give what I need to complete
the art thats been in progress for 21 years
the canvas is empty just as I'd feared.

*R*A*T*T*L*E*D*

I must apologize for not posting in quite sometime. I have a lot on my mind these days. School is looming in my ever-so-near future, and even quicker than that, Christmas. Frankly I'm not feeling the Christmas spirit this year. I feel like Christmas should be about family, and well, the people I consider to be my family, they're kind of in the wind.
You see, I imagined things would be different this Christmas. My dream Christmas would go something like this:
I wake up (in my own house) to the sound of A.J. coming into my bedroom. He crawls up into bed between Ethan and I , and that's the first thing I see, his bright shining face. But then, there's a cry from the baby monitor sitting on our dresser, it's Alanna, she's awake now and so begins the perfect Christmas morning. I make them breakfast, we open presents, and I sit back and watch in awe at my complete family...all four of us. The day would keep on and we would go and visit our less immediate families, then Ethan and I would fall asleep next to each other that night, and I would feel more complete than I ever have.

But that's a dream. A.J.'s with his dad, Ethan and I don't live together and Alanna, well, I guess now that's just a dream too...
Crying is overrated, because right now, I don't feel any better. I just want the three people I think about every waking second of every single day with me all the time...I guess you could call it a Christmas wish that will never ever come true, but that doesn't stop me from hoping.

NOT YOURS

Dabbling in the free-verse:

You think you're so smart...
but you're not...
I was never your toy
your puppet
your doll.

Lift that veil
show me who you once were.
CARE.
But you'll care too much then, won't you?

My heart is vague;
in the air
dust that scatters as you pass by.

A lone star burns tonight.
See it?
Think of me, and those times...
when the world lay in the palm of our hands
so close to anything that mattered
yet still so far.

A poet's beginnings??

My mom found this, apparently I wrote it for her for mother's day or something when I was like six... All errors in spelling are intentional, I'm copying it word for word...


"L is for Lynn witch is your middle name.
O is for ornorey witch is what you are sometimes
V is for vally with rivers so wide.
E is for eggs wich is one thing that I don't like"


Wasn't I brilliant???

Sunlight

I was blinded by the truth
of the life I wished was just a spoof.
But I finally got my proof
as the sunlight poured through the roof

a light on what is new
and all I ever thought was true
but maybe I don't like the view
when everything I see is blue.

The hurt is just too fresh
and the scars branded on my chest
just reminders of all I'm less
in a game I'll never guess.

The ellipses coat my eyes
as I pull off your disguise
and brandish all your lies
and all the false "good bye"s

But you can never take it back.
You'll never possess the things you lack.
The knife's still in my back,
as the glass begins to crack...

Broken Words

The hurt, it lies in broken words, in angry words, in bitter words.
I've tried but I can't seem to purge, the idea of your broken words.
The hate is bottled up in scars, in old scars, in stomach scars.
The hate is shaking at the bars that hold together stomach scars.
The hurt has turned to unshed tears, the hate is back, despite our fears.
I'm sorry for the all the wasted years, I think it's time we shifted gears.
Cry those tears.
Unmask those fears.

Torn

The mirror cracks
your face is glass
staring up at me
but I can't see
the white lines cut your face in threes.
The precious cargo I hold inside
a million and one little white lies.
Stories told for no reason at all
except for simply a soft place to fall.
Can you read the fiction story I wrote?
Did you really believe all those words that I spoke?
All the "I love you"s, the false sense of hope.
You gave me your spine and I tore it apart
I ripped it to shreds along with your heart.