So today wasn't the official death, but mountains fell and walls broke.
You were there. So was someone else.
I tried to talk, despite my half spoken delicacies, avoiding every little thing I wanted to say. I had so much to say. At least I know the truth, I guess.
At least I know parts of it.
At least I know about that box you keep hidden on the shelf.
(The one you keep your heart hidden in. The one where you have been taken captive. The one where the savages keep you and lock you away.
You are vulnerable and sad there; but they think they are protecting you. They think you are safe there.
It's okay- you can come out-
speak louder so they can hear you- get out. Tell me goodbye-
Tell me where you are going.
Pain pain pain pain-
My trachea collapsed from angry yelling- I strangled my self again today, [and] choked out the liar. We attempted to suck the life out of him but stopped so we could live free-
I enjoy punishing him, because he made me hurt. It made me feel bad. It made me weak.It made me a victim. It made me cry.
We tell us we are weak. We tell us when it's too late. We tell us when to run. We tell us when to scream.
We call ourselves names. We feed ourselves the lie. We cut off our oxygen. We cut off our heart.
We sever all arteries. We exist as enemies. We eat our own liver. We drink our own blood. We write it on the wall. We smear it from the pages. We blot it from existence. We carve it into our face. We gnash our teeth at it. We wear our red on bandages. We peel skin with claws. We drink to violence, and sing to death. We are the enemy, we are the death.
We scream. We pray. We beg. We plead. We scream. We pray. We beg. We plead.
We grovel on our knees. We beg at your feet.
Sing to us again, oh scream out again. Love me again. Please, oh Pain, please.
Heart, my love of all, please remember me again. Please sing to me again. Please make that face again, that beautiful, content, happy, small face, again. Please be beautiful for us again. Please grant us favor and love and adulation again. Please love us and raise us again. Put us on high, so we feel safe and loved again. We feel safe in your eyes once more-
-and like a mighty icon, we fall to the earth, backwards, into the dirt, facing the sky, not knowing where we land.
Our arms and legs flailing while we scan the earth below. In a crushing blow, we breathe the dust. We look around. Our pedestal is gone. Our arms, lifting upward, to cradle, have fallen away. We are left, standing. We have to walk on our own. The audacity! The Pain! of Human Love.
Where is my pedestal? Where is my carriage grand?
That I should ride the surface of the earth, light as a bird, never touching land?
You have raised me on high, and then fell below. Where are you now?
Where else, am I to go?
You lifted me up, made me feel like a queen-
At love, of which cost, a life unclean.
My life defiled, my love unrequitted,
yet once more restored, my sins I repented.
You gave me Love, yet once more again,
showered me with precious life, sunshining rain-
Beauty and love. Life and all else above-
a happy Abode, now of which, there
are none of.
Where do I go, from thus, henceforth?
To scour the soil and earth again,
Looking for that someone, to return my self worth?
Who shall restore it, when, which one doth reclaim?
Who will give my pedestal, return my shining fame?
I look forward to be the jewel of your crown,
but until then, to the earth, I am boun'.
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