Who is in your Corner?

Little girl….

Why are you so mad?

Do you know how far I’ve traveled just for you?

 

Excuse me miss,

Is it me you are talking to?

No one is ever coming for me…

 

You don’t remember your name,

You say you have seen it all

But what is life without believing? 

 

I am alive,

This pain is my comfort,

A fate sealed requires no questioning.

 

Is it him or her?

Should I go on the hunt?

I am here to shield you.

 

Your shoes are worn,

Only the living require protection,

Save yourself before the darkness comes.

 

Don’t put on a brave face,

Don’t hide your anger,

I offer you what you have longed for.

 

I am brave,

Anger is fueling,

No one can save me but me.

 

Turn around and face me,

I am in your corner...

I am as you are!

 

My reflection blinds me,

Told you no one is coming for me.

Yet here you are wearing my face,

Willing to revive my weary soul.

 

I am you in your darkest hour,

You when you feel you cannot go on,

You when you are ready to give up hope…

I am you,

And I am in your corner…

 

If you had a kingdom, Would I be a part of it?

Sun rays breaking at the crack of dawn,
I fully see your face,
Peaceful as you sleep,
My deepest desire...
I have been dancing with The devil.

I dangle my feet off the floating carpet,
Could it be this is magic ?
Or maybe it was but has since lost its flame...
For the cinders refuse to stay lit,
and I have seen you bare your teeth in the night,
My worst nightmare coming alive...
Could you be My devil?

I walk towards the door,
Feeling them call me over...
Pools filled with the cold sweat from my nightmares,
For as I stand in the midst of it all,
I try to find comfort in the hugs sent from the gods,
Slow kisses from the wind sending shivers down my spine,
as the sun refuses to come out to embrace all my dark parts,
I smile into nothing...
This must be heaven.

Looking back I see your face,
Lines across your face leading to where you have been,
I see the road map to lies, deceit and desire...
Calculating eyes inherited from the one that made you...
You are your own creation,
yet no one really knows your face.

They came from far and beyond,
Asking for luminescence from your existence,
Believing the words that came from your lips,
Hoping to live the life you say you have seen.
You masked all your desires as your saving grace,
For you are not who you claim to be,
And the colder it gets,
Your skin burns to illuminate your path home.

I look away from your face,
smiling as the wind kissed me,
I have seen your face and it is too late to be scared.
I settle in confusion at the conflict, "I have seen your face" has raised.
History seems to be a lie.
I am but burning in the midst of the cold sweats,
I have forgotten to include self awareness in deceit...
This is my personal hell and I am in charge,
I am the ruler of my kingdom.
My own devil.
Summoned at the whim of a weakling...

The art of wanting - Wanting it all

Like a moth burnt, still drawn to the flames,
I walked right back into the furnace.

How can one engrave healing by walking the same path that made them sick?
I find myself at odds because familiarity draws me,
yet it threatens my very existence with one soft blow to my foundation...
Then I have nothing, I feel nothing and I fear nothing.

There is emptiness within me,
and it is not because of your absence
But more like shame...
Ashamed of my moment of weakness,
threatening to destroy that which was beautifully crafted over time.

For familiarity really is the downfall of many,
and wanting what I had, blindsided me.
For it was in the moment of weakness that all reason seized to exit,
Yet one cannot account for the lost time
let alone cherish the memories.

Like a curse, everything was tainted.
For what was meant to be treasured was beautifully ravaged,
Devoured by "I want it now"...
for in wanting, sustainability was not part of the list,
and so then, what could've been diamonds received no pressure,
and so shall the coal burn to hopefully warm what has been turned to stone
because in wanting...I forgot to look out for number 1
and almost lost it all.

Turns out, there is an art to losing...