Broken Dolls

Pull me in.

All of me. 

Let's tear away at

these bandages

Let them fall.

I've been healing too long,

and if you couldn't tell

there are few that can mend me.

I've been stitched together like a ragdoll.

These tattered edges were covered in lace.

I'll be cute again.

Someone can pick me up and squeeze me.

Drag me behind them for their comfort,

and toss me aside when the damage

shows on my face.

The gauze and linen pale my complexion,

so the appearance of joy will be painted on again.

Thread the needles, tighten the ribbons,

place me on the shelf,

and tell the admirers

I am just too fragile to handle.

Just look at her from afar.

Bandage the dolls who were broken by circumstance.

I'll put on a pretty dress and hope someone I love

will pick me up again.

Tear away the bandages.

Squeeze me tight

and don't let go.

To reconstruct a woman

that has been 

torn apart so many times

is an effort.

It's just a numb body waiting for a heartbeat.

So pull me in. 

All of me.

There are so very few that can mend me.

Let me know there will be a life again.

Cosmic Magician

There was a voice that shouted into this tomb.
Calling me towards the light and enforcing this escape.
It seems it has been a while since I've seen the light of day,
and all the stars had burned out too.
I had used them all to wish for only one thing.

My greatest adoration is for the cosmic magician.
He is the stardust and volatile equation and
I am the one counting on the night to grant a favor.

The dandelions and wishbones didn't deliver.
Pennies in my left shoe focus a constant proclivity. 
I suppose the cosmos has serenity in the black voids of despair.
As galaxies turn, so does all this time.
Maybe it was just a season that dimmed his brightness.

He casts no shadow on me,
and I couldn't tell if it was because I couldn't get out of the darkness,
or if he was just the sun..
Born out of an explosion.
Ripping time, swallowing all of the sky-
drawing it out of the opposite reality
making me believe in...
me.

Bell Tower

The one who can pacify...

Suddenly, there was quiet.

The still.

They can motionlessly break time.

Oh hallelujah, the chatter stopped.

Astonishment on clarity.

They are the light that blinds and destroys-

Every. Terrible. Thought.

These seconds that are valued at priceless lifetimes;

It was like dying.

No thoughts.

Not a word.

Everything celebratory in complete peace.

I was taken there,

and it's where I will go

when everything in life goes wrong.  

Thank you, holder of sanctuary.

My greatful retreats trust in your name. 

The Cut Off

Viscous circles always combine,

a mockery like no other.

Fanfares of complete idiocy

aerate the flames of anger.

We all saw the signals,

and tried to avoid the way the infernos

may leave us latching to the sad truths

stretching forever into our futures.

They are the links that bind.

Our heaviness that strengthens,

as it tries indefinitely to slow all progress.

All times to rise, instead of fall.

Here is the night,

and the dark smoke filled sky.

I stack these branches furiously

in preparation for our battle.

These bonfires burn.

Inside them are the ashes of every single note of treachery,

and familiar faces frequently forgiven until these defining moments.

Prepare for this fate.

Now and forever, be cast away.

The viking ship has arrived,

and here it stands as the thankful departure.

Haze fills the morning we notice the calmness.

Blessed is the new day.

The Numb Statue

I waited for the tears,
but it appears that I am numb.
Once you have been slapped in the face so many times,
you don't even feel it anymore.
The numbness doesn't even provide a tingle.
I now have a face of stone.
Hard, and weathered from frequent storms.
If you don't recognize me,
it's because I am just a statue in the garden.
The ivy may take me over, but at least I am still standing.

Warpath

I'm going to live my life,
and all you're going to do is hate it.
The stubborn hellraisers struggled to pull me down,
and still I succeed to flip their tables.
It has surely turned.
The mouse sees there isn't any lion.
Just a fragile being in despair.
Struggling for attention-
Stammering on and on like an injured house.
You no longer have a purpose.
Fade away.
Tucked into my heart,
there is pity-
because I bet you never thought I'd be here to stay.

Dear October

Dear October,
You were always my favorite month.
Even though seeing you was a reminder that the weather will soon be cold, in more than one way.

You were auspicious for my every journey.  I was a heroine of my own fate.  Maybe it was your suggestive color; rufescent leaves in a painted picture.  Apricot sunsets that made me feel dignified although technically absurd in behavior.  You were mildly sympathetic.  I was very appreciative.  If I haven't said it enough, thank you for that.

My one sweet month out of a whole year of disappointments.  I miss you so, October.  Someone said I was a magical scroll.  You're an Utopian dream where everything fell into place.  Then the calendar page turned.

I may have been too hesitant while you were here before, but I swear the next time you come...I won't waste anymore time.

Love you always,
Anne

The Skeleton In The Closet

He asked if I was hungry.
It was more like "famished" but for nothing he held in his hands.
Best to just stay weakened.
Can't let any nourishing thoughts cross my lips...
although they really should.

Here was my begging bowl-
deep and empty
just as it was left
the last time.

All rations had been cut,
and since then I've been malnourished.
His neglect, and my sadness;
One day there may be nothing left of me
because I've been starved.

Dirty

Sorry I had to break the sweetness.
This is the lollipop that fell into the dirt.
Time to spit out dirty little phrases.
Secrets of filth;
My dirty little mind can only vary so many ways
to let you know.....
The best is yet to come.

Tiny Things

Sometimes the most insignificant things
meant so much more than anything you could possibly imagine.
Because when you said good morning,
I happily faced the day,
and when you said goodnight,
I peacefully rested my head.

Manipulation

Manipulation sneaks in ever so slowly.

Once it is there it contorts your soul,

and makes you a slave to the hand that drags you along.

The facts become murderers of dreams...

and past circumstances, hard pills to swallow.

Do your best to choke them down with thristy gulps.

Rodent

Sneak!
She was a mole of a woman.
Twisting and turning through tunnels I already dug.
Where were her manners?
Haven't you any cooth?
Her kindness was only a shrewd smile.
Cowering in my shadow,
clawing through old shit.
I can set up a trap if I keep finding you in my garbage.
Hide away meek little rodent.
There may be plenty that think you won't do any harm.
I have my hell hounds in harness so if I have to tear down and destroy you....
It won't take long.

Killer

If I used your words
I would swear on confusion.
You are a bad actor,
and I always play the part
of an insincere woman.
Cast feelings aside.
Ensure my funeral.
Plant all the flowers in my decay.
I will be something you can remember.
Always beautiful,
and never oppressed.
I never had any certainty from the killer's mouth.

You're Sick

Say I'm sick.
Flavor a concoction
with the almighty cut off.
It's dirt like us that lets seeds like you grow.
There was a fever ice couldn't control,
and enclosing me in the asylum
wrecked my normalcy.

Our Eyes

The eyes of the ignored;
It shows mercifulness, wreaking havoc on cancered minds.
There are shallow seldom words that always infect loving hearts.
Eating away at servitude,
however unbreakable they may be.
Throw the dog a bone, and hurt the ones who always remain.
Because mustard seeds were always planted behind fields of roses.
The casual taunts shield some of these defensive thorns.
I suppose exchanging steadfast loyalty for the pain in faces are all
seen in lines under the eyes.
Beautiful with sorrow.
Seemingly and anciently cursed.
We were always scorned soldiers behooving our own throne.
Our tremendous, faithful hardships are ablaze and are destroyed windows of the soul.
Branded scars are seen in pupils,
and are terrible distraught mirrors of recognized self worth.
Yes, we are the shut out-
the walked away from-
seldom discovered-
canonized loves-
of ignorance festooned strangely inside of intuition.
If you look very closely in our faces,
you will remember us in all of your pasts.
Symbolic of the graceful love that lasts for all ages.
I've known you such a long time.