How the Shell Breaks

Hands trembling,

Heart revolting,

Tears falling,

But still she answers his call.
Eyes steeling,

Hands questing,

Grip bruising,

He consumes her pain. 
Over now,

Knees give out, 

The ground scrapes, 

She convulses with her sobbing. 
Turns his back, 

Grinning bright,

Laughing light, 

He has taken his fill. 
Soul grows numb, 

It repeats again,

He abuses her, 

Nothing left but a broken shell. 

Black Swan

Hated and reviled for wanting love.

Never accepted for how she was born.

Overshadowed by a twin, thought pure and good.

What if it was the white swan, who stole first?

 

The lake reflects the evil of her soul,

the curse cast to keep pain from another,

proclamations of innocence as fake

as the white feathers she is forced to wear.

 

A childish prince played with Odile’s heartstrings,

he saw only her unique exterior,

and not the true beauty held within her.

And it was herself that she safely cursed.

 

She set the white swan free to be with him,

then, her black hair into ebony feathers,

an outcast of swans and princes alike,

to feel endless freedom and happiness,

for the rest of her life.

Chessboards of Life

I’m not a game. You can’t just save your progress now and come back when you feel like it. You can’t evolve me to the next level when you get bored of where I am at currently. I don’t want to be a game. For anyone. 

You want my best qualities, but none of the worst. You want my smiles, but not my tears. I’m moody. I’m independent. I’m ambitious. I’m passionate. That is what makes me who I am. Take me or leave me. 

I’m full of love, so no, I do not need yours. Don’t forget that. I’m sure of myself because I know what I want: to be love. Not gain it from other people. I want to give love to others and to myself. 

I’m not a pon on a chessboard. I am the chessboard. I neither win or lose a game. I simply am. I don’t care if you are a friend, lover, or family member. If you want to win, then stop playing the game. 

Dreams

One of the best feelings in the world is the euphoria of knowing that the ones you love the most understand your dreams. Does this happen often? I don’t know.

It’s not that these people won’t be supportive. A lot are. However, sometimes it seems that you keep hitting a wall when people question why you sacrifice so much and think so decisively about your future.

My eyes have almost always been future focused. It has been when I glance back at the past behind me, or find myself settling for the present that I lose my identity. I forget what it is to be myself. My worst fear in life is losing my identity. The betrayal of forgetting myself is heart wrenching. Adversity is comfortable to me. Betrayal is not.

Sometimes I feel insane when people ask me what I am doing or why I am putting myself through this stress. I feel as if there is something fundamentally wrong with me and my structure of being is trembling around me. I know that I will never stop because I can never afford to.

I have to keep analyzing my future with pinched eyes because my dreams are such a big part of what makes me what I am. Even when people don’t understand where I’m coming from or insist that my reasoning is irrational. I sacrifice to make myself sure of who I am. To create my own happiness.

Keep dreaming.

What Are We Doing? 

What are we doing?

I sit in class and watch all the people. A girl puts on deodorant and mascara. She must have woken up late. A girl shops for athletic tanktop and sips on her smoothie. Others sleep, watch sports, or doodle in a notebook. And I watch. Take it in. Wondering what we are all doing?

I tune into the professor’s lecture, trying to teach what I consider common sense. Do others think this is common sense? Or is it just me? Is this why they tune out? Or is it because they don’t care?

There is this world around us, full of possibilities. We can be anything we want to be because we were lucky enough to be born in a first world country. And yet. We do nothing. We sit here. Texting. Yawning. Sleeping. Shopping.

Where is the adventure? The social activism? The familial love? The inspiration to do more and build ourselves? Prosper not through money or basic knowledge, but through spiritual growth?

Self Reliance

I don’t know when I started realizing that I had to depend primarily on myself. Don’t get me wrong there are plenty of people whom I love and trust. They have their own lives though, and I can’t expect then to be my will power through the hard times. 

I used to have a friend who I thought was my friend-soulmate. We had so many shared interests, the same sarcastic humor, and hated ‘the man’ (a.k.a. the school staff who favored the partying and athletic kids). We were the outcasts of our high school and clung to each other through the worst times. Or what we thought were the worst times. We both had depression issues, mine were worse, and I had anxiety on top of it. This was due to serious medical issues from our pasts and bullying in my case. We healed each other and used each other as life rafts. For her help I will always be thankful. 

Eventually in my junior and senior years, I went through some…things. Sexual assault from someone I considered my best guy friend, a boyfriend who cheated on me when I didn’t give into his advances, and a very sick grandfather were only a few of the occurrences I dealt with. 

Through all of this I just needed support from my friend. At this point she didn’t want anything but fun and pushed me aside when I wasn’t ‘fun’ anymore. 

I had to pick myself up from the ground again. Of course my mother was there, but for the first time it was ultimately myself that had to push through it all. My mother couldn’t hold my hand through the anger, my friend wasn’t there for a shoulder to cry on, and I had to keep a rational mind in order to begin college. I had me, myself, and I. 

And I did it. I realized my love for writing and editing, and I made the decision to switch from a psychology major to English. I powered through the grief and focused on my classes. My security in my own strength and mind increased. Eventually I began to love myself like I had never before. 

I felt more accepting of myself and others because I know now that you never know what a person is going through. I remet myself and gained so much willpower and knowledge from what I went through. 

You have yourself through it all. Be kind to yourself. 

Free Spirit

The time you spent trying to tame me, could’ve been a time in which to love me you were free.

I lost a love I had come to live for, and with its loss my breath came and went not once more.

My heart had grown colder, my soul retired into an early death, fires gave no smolder.

Why have you done this Love, I know you hate me.

Only you could make my tears move, but there’s another, just lately.

You said goodbye first, now I’m saying second.

We both know our love was cursed; you had wanted a refund.

It turned out she was a glass full, mine: a glass empty.

Now you’ve come back and it will be tough, but I can’t be given out for free.

He lets me be wild and free, but remembers to guard my heart like no other.

I’m his Free Spirit.

My Devil

My Devil

Her hands shake, but she takes your hand.

It’s in her hesitation, your smile sadistic.

You’ll destroy her sweet innocence.

For now it’s a game, you won’t stay long, you never do.

You want what you can’t have, for now

the demon doesn’t get what he wants, but she’ll give in.

You want to know how I know this?

 

I fell in love with the Devil.

I’m not the only one.

As I’m saying this, you are too.

Oh darling admit it.

It’s on, it really is.

You fell in love with my Devil.

 

Truly, does it really matter?

Yes, I know, the liquid pain is seeping from my eyes.

Devil destroyed my innocence.

No matter how hard I fought, how hard I tried, he did.

I can still taste him, the Nightmare.

The Nightmare I’ll always love, I’ll always crave, my Dove.

Can’t you see what I know now.

 

I fell in love with the Devil.

I’m not the only one.

As I’m saying this, you are too.

Oh darling, admit it.

It’s on it really is.

You fell in love with my Devil.

 

I had tried to run faster than Death,

but he gets what he wants.

I had tried to fight that binding sin,

but the Evil had won.

Evil was the poison he fed me.

Oh dear, Love…run.

 

I fell in love with the Devil.

I’m not the only one.

As I’m saying this, so are you.

Oh darling, finally say it.

It’s not okay, it never will be…

You’ve died from the love of my Devil.

 

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