For No One To Find

When you can casually bleed

While your psyche screams,

Congratulations,

No one else will ever see.

Your imprisoned esteem

Only needs to breathe

Once in a while

To keep from getting free.

At persona’s relieve

Feel free to release

In humbled bursts

What trembles underneath.

As awful it seems,

It’s only a need

Left unsatisfied

By conventional means.

Carry on incomplete

In your vital deceit

Until maybe one day

You’ll be eased.

 

The Doll

Miss. Luscious, the porcelain beauty emblem

Plasticized and commoditized for their convenience

Re-dressed, repressed, made up with makeup

Displayed in lavish pageantry  with fine lace adornment

 

As beautiful things are jealously guarded

The Doll wrapped fresh, in moisturized flesh

Dressed as regally as any aristocratic darling

Possessed as preciously as a Paradise Lost

 

Patterns and shapes form in still minds

The Doll watches and waits behind it’s glass

So the masters who greedily horde their pets

Observed through heavily lidded lenses indisposed

 

On an unsuspecting night of lax consciousness

Porcelain fingers wrap their way around knives

And dragons that sleep on their piles of gold

Wake to find cold cutting metal in their sides

 

Dolls always smile with the faces they were painted

And they only repress as is needed to survive

Glass cases and ribbons may be used to restrain them

But you cannot assuage the specter that’s inside

 

Lust and Loathing

Lust and Loathing

Mellow-dramatic pouting inside of my room, lonely

Teen-angst phase never outgrown, but still growing

Manic depressive, self obsessed and self abhorring

Wallow in contemplation and satanic children’s stories

Look,

It’s not as if I want to be like this

I’m honestly sick of writing this kind of shit

I don’t like it, I’m bored with it, but it just always seems to fit

Me.

Words like “Lament” and “Depression” come so freely to my lips

Without effort, without thought, and mostly without context

My subconscious expects them to be useful I guess

I guess,

I still have issues left, unresolved

Things that I’ve repressed

Holding back my progress

Because, I’m trying to tell a better story.

It’s not that I’m upset, I’m just tired,

and bored.

 

 

 

Hold me,…