Friday, February 4, 2011

+ Words, words, words. +

I’m still getting caught in my mind. Too many things catch my eye and force themselves inward. I crave heat. Lines and corners close me down until I pick up eyeliner in a no-commitment attempt to find change. So scared, so safe; be ashamed. I can hear the bass. And I can hear silence. Distracted by skin, I live through women who have no reputations and borrowed bank accounts. Faux hawks, full sleeves, I almost had you. I trace the edges of serifs in my minds eye and am too scared to dig them into my skin. I can’t remember the last time I could breathe. I tried last week with a cigarette but the winter air slapped me across the cheek for thinking I could do such a thing here. I stain white things on accident and innocent things on purpose. You were my outlet. I make plans to rip open necklines in hopes of using my collarbones as reminders that the sun will come. I choose heavy boots to prove to my thin legs that I’m walking; walking is moving; moving is progressing; progressing is finding what I had, right? I’m fine, really. I just can’t live without extremes.

there’s something scratching at my heart
it’s bleeding to get out
i keep my hands behind my back
so that
it’s not my fault when it gets loose
i need you here to hold me down
i can sever all these roots
will you
silence all this lace that’s slowly
tearing at my face
i’m unsure of the violent nature
it’s showing signs of taking
i need a witness to my faith
i’m only changing shape
in the beginning stage of breaking


Max Andrew Dubinsky said...

Absolutely marvelous.

Anonymous said...

Beautiful... The photos and words...♥

Unknown said...

Holy cow.
That poem. Those truths. That amazing look into the depths of your heart and soul. Wow sister. Wow.


Anonymous said...

Beautiful!! ♥

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