All these weeks of not admitting.

My weekend is spent trying to decipher the reasons behind all this pretending.

I latch on to a conjured up ideal only because I tell myself I deserve this to fulfill my emptiness. There is so much pretending, so much delusion, I don't even know how to be true to myself anymore.

I am open and delirious for a few days, then cold and avoiding the next. In both states I am untrue to myself. What am I.
An entity of nothingness. A hollow vessel.

A few days ago I met two strangers on two different occasions. Both times I found that I had something in me that was possible to permanently adopt.

I don't need to be selfish, arrogant, sullen or angsty. I don't need to try so hard to be charismatic, or despair over my lack of it. What I discovered was that I have the ability to be kind through and through. A smile is all it takes to reel a stranger in and change their life.

As much as I can, I am going to look for the good in everyone. No matter how much they act like they  probably don't deserve it, I am going to strive to look for the good in them. Everyone has a parcel of good in them. I will sieve it out and focus on it so that it it is the only thing of them that I will recall, and I will bear no grudges.

It is going to be hard, but I can do this.

What do you fall for?

What do you truly adore?

The razor sharp cheekbones, the pouted lips?

The elongated legs, the curved hips?

Or maybe something way more precious-

her enigma that made you curious?

Or her soul sculpted from words

of broken, hardened absurds.

Something out of the ordinary

that caught your eye.

Making you never wanting to say goodbye.

could it be the way she stares into the distance?

The way she tilts her head-“hear me”- she listens

It is as if all the words she’s ever said

engulfs you in a blanket of never-had.

Every inch of her you’d drown yourself in

Every part of her nearly free of sin.

As you struggle to untangle

all the hate that’s trapped in her wounds

so afraid she will dismantle

from the height of her imagined doom.

She doesn't even realize

that every part of her,

although mesmerizingly small in size

conjures up something; makes your heart pound, heart stir.

Maybe as you watched, watched her dancing fingers

you felt the sense of something tender, it lingers

on the air of everything she touches.

She- afraid of the smudging patches

You- awed by the way your own heart latches

Every single glimpse you steal

makes you wonder if she truly is for real

Could you really have found

someone so profound?

So delicate.

So intricate.

That makes your world go round?

Yet she doesn't even know it

You don't know if she'd see you fit

She could look at you

and sadly, this might be true-

She could think a thousand different thoughts

all the ones about you, maybe naught. 

There may be a time you will have to part

and that, I'm sorry, it will break your heart

But what will never make you forget

Is how you had had your heart set.

Because you fell

for the girl

who had so much more to tell.

The devil’s acts scratched into your skin; scald yourself with your own sins.

Suck his soul out through his chest; ink it out- kill his quest.

Stalks the hundred blackened souls

Digs a hundred hardened holes

Her mind in torture, her lack of amour

Fills her with fear- a ruptured shiver

Here he clutches a deadly dagger

Watches the prey with morbid hunger

His huge wings signed in grievant menace

Kills their passion, screams, “no grace, no grace.”

In his head, he feels misled.

The way he sees the world

"I've always wanted to tell her," he shrieks

"She used to be so beautiful!"

The sockets in his sad face leaks

Conjured up image in his head-dreadful

One last bloodcurdling cry
A signal of his goodbye

Before he stomps across the broken boat

Tilts her head and slits her throat.

You know what I think about the heart?

It has to be pulled apart

Because even within it

There is a window

It offsets everything, everything unshallow.

Your heart.

It is encased in a delicate glass jar

Everybody eyes it from a far

Everybody wants the key

To your heart.

Where do I start?

Your heart is not a cage.

Nor is it a musical box

Of which it has locks

Oh no

Everybody pretends to be gentle

You know what they truly are is detrimental

With all their fake analogies of being the key to you heart

Oh no

No, your heart is what it should be

The thing that holds it is

Burst into, pierced, cracked, pulled apart

Not with blatant violence, but with a fierce passion

Of someone ready to face the ugliness of the innards

Of

This glass jar.

What they will find is something

Soft.

Everything unraveled.

Like strings untangled.

Savaged just to open this jar.

Clawed into just to get through

You would realize that I have broken your jar

Allowed it to crack and shatter into 5 million pieces

Shards bouncing off the floor

Feet bleeding on the way to help

Yes, help

Bleeding feet on the way to your help

Dirty and impure, contaminated and corrupted
I just want to save your heart.

THE THING IS, NOBODY FRICKIN CARES ABOUT YOU.  NO ONE. YOU DON'T HAVE TO WHORE YOURSELF OUT THERE VYING FOR ATTENTION BECAUSE EVERYBODY IS TOO CAUGHT UP IN THEIR OWN PROBLEMS TO CARE ABOUT YOU. YOU'RE ALL ALONE IN THIS SCREWED UP PLACE IN CASE YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY NOTICED. THERE IS NO ONE.