blondebeauty0107's profile

she picks up the knife. She sits. She waits. Why is it that the only "thing" Keeping her sane Keeping her stable Is the one "thing" she can't control? She sits. She thinks. Why is it that the only "thing" That she can't control Is the one "thing" that She cares so much to defend? This "thing"... It has caused more pain More suffering More tears Than anything else in her life... Why care? Why fight for something That makes her hurt so much??? She sits. She hold the knife And pets the blade, Wa...

The door opens Bells wiggle and ring As the cold winter air Floods the shop. A rush of browns— Mochas, chocolates, and tans— Mixed with Goldenrods, cranberries, and siennas Create a sophisticated sense Of inspiration As the wafting fragrance of espresso Pervades my senses. The owner… The blonde [its on me] The brunette [kerr-pling!] All delightful, All coming together to produce a staff Who is quirky and carefree. “A fruit and herbal iced tea And a small cup of dutch chocolate For me” I’m a s...

Living here is Hell. My bedroom is my safe place, Far from “family”. My bedroom is cold, Contrary to the flames of My “home” and “parents”. These four walls protect And shelter me from all harm… My sanctuary. Outside of my door, The heat is unbearable; Its fueled by hatred. So here I sit, still, In my little safe place, and Here I shall remain.

Then passes a human soul; So wretched, Yet so divine… Wrought with confusion, Strangled by desire. He walks-- Nay, glides-- Past me in the winter- Chilled air. A passing glance, Tossing grungy brunette Locks to the side, Is given. Those sad, Piercing eyes, Gray with pain, Yet sunflower yellow With hope, Do a once-over on me. His flannel shirt Over his acid-wash jeans Move with a fluid motion As his reeboks meet the Withered stone beneath them. He stops. Extends the fingerlessly Gloved hand an...

Small and contained, I sit in this space. Away from the mom The dad And the dane… Only here can I show my true face. Ridiculed, reprimanded, Torn to shreds… “Why do you sit there?!” she demanded. “At least go sit on your bed!” So here I sit, In my own little study. Floor clean Paper out Candles lit… Trying to make words less muddy. Here is where I can work the best, At the peak of creation. Bringing to life my hopes and wishes And poems of damnation. So say what you will, if you must, Your wo...