

Shadows of My Former SelfLying, dying, screaming, crying...Shadows of My Former Self
slipping further into this cold dark
and lonely prison of my own making...
hating myself more with every breath I take.
Hurting with all the lies that I tell myself...
becoming lost in thoughts that bind me
to this painful place... falling more
apart everyday until all that is left
are the shadows of my former self.


WordsIt is said "sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me"... but I have found that in this life words cut the deepest, hollow you out, and stay with you the longest... taking forever to heal the wounds and pain that someone's words caused you. Hearing the words contiually screaming and echoing through your soul... ripping at you just for the fun of it... making you believe that you are not worthy of being happy, loved, or beautiful... turning you against yourself.Words


The LightA light shines in a darkened room,The Light
pushing aside the misery and gloom.
It wraps me up in a warm embrace
and dries the tears on my face.
My spirit soars when the light is around,
smiles and laughter always abound.
If I cry its only happy tears,
for the light chases away my doubts and fears.
The light keeps me safe and steady,
with its gentleness at the ready.
It helps to mend the hurt and pain
so that one day I'll be whole again.


SecretMy tears fall downSecret
like a gentle rain,
along my cheeks and past my smile
that masks my hidden pain.
It haunts my thoughts
and my dreams,
piercing my heart
with its quiet screams.
Do not ask me what it is
for I would tell you a lie,
my secret has to stay locked away
forever in my heart even when I cry.


SEA OF SORROWTwirling the strands of time between my fingertips. Watching a memory portal open as visions swirl around to come face to face with me once again. The times between good ones are so few and far between. Clear, silvery drops fall to the ground gathering around me. Minutes pass by as a small puddle of bittersweet tears cascade down my face to plunge into the pool that has formed at my feet. Each tear a moment in time remembered. I begin to sink into the salty memorial of life gone by and still the liquid flows freely. I begin to float on a sea of sorrow with a rare, occassional wave of happiness to gently rock me through the dead calm that hasSEA OF SORROW


Masks Ive WoreOn my face these masks I've Wore,Masks Ive Wore
Preacher / Zombie dance once more.
They laugh and dance and fight another,
As they try to stop or top each other.
So I sit in Silence watching lore,
of these Preacher / Zombie masks Iv'e wore.


Never ForgottenManeuvering through ten thousand consecrated trees moistened with morning drizzle the little creature dances joyfully eternally condemned to the pendulum that is its life.Never Forgotten
Slowly crafting and decorating a blade from hilt to end, tired of being considered evil, a bad spirit, lighting the incense calling for the spiritual fire. Caressing the hot velvet like drips from the candle , enjoying the hot wax simmering the flesh. Overburdened. Sacrificing life to defend its own. A vast, unending danger filling the sacred forest, an eerie mist slightly touching its skin, healing , hardening the hot wax, camouflaging the sou


A STILL PRISONShe stares out into the night seeing the life that drifts by her. Tears fall like petals from a flower to litter the ground. She sees the enjoyment people partake in their daily routines and longs to be a part of it all. She looks down at her feet, firmly planted into the ground and longs to take a step towards the realm of the living. Her stillness has created her prison within the dirt and she has become a part of the scenery instead of the beholder of the scene. A gentle wind blows and tussels her leaves as a few drift off in the breeze. A heavy sigh escapes and she settles in for the death of winter to strip her once again. To die and theA STILL PRISON
--
"It is Nature who makes our artists for us, though it may be Art who taught them their right mode of expression". - Oscar Wilde
You're very welcome
*spanksyaback*
--
~spread your wings and fly~
--
"It is Nature who makes our artists for us, though it may be Art who taught them their right mode of expression". - Oscar Wilde
--
find beauty in all the dark places
--
~spread your wings and fly~
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