Greed

Anticipation,

my patience grows thin.

And it’s different this time,

a slow-churned blend of truth and lies,

The hunger, a fire,

a flame that won’t subside.

I am giving more and more of myself

I am testing limits I didn’t dare ponder before

I am tasting the honeyed dew of mutiny,

I am reveling in the forbidden nature of my own pleasure.

And I live in the shadows lately,

where hedonism thrives

I am pompous and arrogant,

I look Satan in the eyes.

And he guides me accordingly,

down the path of the unwise,

where I’m ushered into a madness,

a slippery slope, a slimy ride.

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peachbonesūüćĎ‚ú®

cheekbones like peaches,

smile so keen

soul so beautiful,

so unmistakably clean.

       tongue like candy,

       body so strong

       hands so kind,

       an earthly charm.

A man with morals,

ethics and candor

with cheekbones like peaches,

a mind as colorful as reefs of coral. 

       He’s got cheekbones like peaches,

       I just wanna take a bite,

       to eat him up if he’ll let me 

       (and I think he just might).  

False Casanova

Backpedal,

For a moment, I forgot who I am

I forgot what I am worth

I forgot that I can stand

That I can run, that I bleed

That you are nothing to me

That I gave you an inch, and you took miles from me

 

And my heart is no plaything,

With which you can continue to toy

And you think you’re so slick in this game,

you think you’re so coy

 

But I am the Queen Bitch

I will forget you, quick fix

Like sand, you will dissolve

And I won’t even blink

 

Oh, you think I need you?

Think I can’t make it by?

Think I need you to hold me?

Wipe my tears, tell me lies?

 

Well fuck you and your delusions,

I will prosper on this throne

my body doesn’t mind the cold,

my tears dry on their own.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tremor

Hand tremor,

I shake.

You did this,

how dare you bend what you knew would break?

Haunt me,

and I simply cannot rest anymore.

Broken,

this can’t be what minds are made for;

to scream and wonder and yell and knock,

to pinch and prod and snicker and rot.

And although I know

that sentience is a pendulum

that rocks and sways,

it seems there is a constant,

one thing that doesn’t go away.

For though my mind

will refuse to dwell,

will repress any memory (lest it begin to swell),

there is a constant,

a pesky remain,

it is my hand

— which continues to shake.

 

 

Transition//

Marlboro reds and spearmint,

some sort of cologne?

Had his arm around me,

why’d I feel so alone?

I think it’s you, I’m thinking about you

And you are the context,

the fabric of all that I do,

of what I think,

of who I am,

the very core of me.

And I keep breaking the rules,

over and over,

in the absence of you,

for you,

you.

And do you want me now?

You seem to want me now.

Now that I’m close enough,

to touch

Will you touch me now?

want to touch me now?

but I don’t know if I’m the same,

I think I’m quite different now.

I don’t recall,

where and why I began.

And now that you’re finally ready,

I don’t know if I am.

 

 

Onward, and to the Stars

As I embrace the idea of looking to the future, and of making sense of what is to come, I find myself less anxious than I might’ve previously. Lack of anxiety, of course, may not necessarily mean lack of fear itself, but I do believe I am more at ease. And for that, I am grateful. I don’t know where this newfound peace is coming from, and how to hone it holistically and optimize in the way that I probably should. I suspect optimism for the future is stemming from an exhaustion with my preceding obsession with the past, or perhaps, just a clear understanding of the need to release it.

Regardless, after a long time, I am thinking about tomorrow. I am thinking about the weeks to come, about what will become of everything. I am more conscious of my relationships with people, and will attempt to be more charismatic and attentive in the way I interact with them (I think, now, that they deserve this, and that I have been wrong to remain distant and cold for the sake of my own convenience). I don’t know whether I can become less selfish, for while in theory it seems to be a brilliantly simple and becoming manner of living, I find it difficult to practice the art of denying my own desires. Still, I’ll try to work on that. Hedonism, in all of the luxuries it provides, is not something I’m sure I want my legacy (should there be one) to be associated with.

There is a lot I want to do with whatever time I may have left. I know how irritatingly clich√© that sounds, and I know how many people who’ve made the very same claim have done little with their actions to support it. Even still, I felt the need to say it, because I feel it, and at this point in my life I am finding that feeling something is often the most apt and apparent cue we ever get to say it; I may be wrong. I feel I’ve wasted an insurmountable amount of valuable time. And I don’t mean to say this to evoke a feeling of regret or depression, but of ambition and determination, to make sure I don’t continue to mistake the time I am given as some sort of prison sentence. Time was not the shackle, my perspective was; time is a privilege, one I had been ignorantly wasting.

I hope that this final push into utter adulthood, turning twenty, means I will begin to transform (as I would very much like to) from a girl of thought and grotesque obsession, into a woman of action and eloquence. I want to think less, and do more. I want to plan less, and see more. I want to be absolutely present in every moment granted to me. The time, as I now know, is now.

I have found that the secret of letting go of my obsession with the past, of allowing myself to come face to face with the idea of fashioning my future in cognizance of its significance to me, was to understand that the future is not some distant, intangible phenomenon, it is now. Someday is here, and it is time to make of it what I will.    

Cultivation of Pain

Newfound radiance, I’m learning to feel again

New set of eyes, I think I can see again

Though lost still we remain

Something slowly emerges from the ashes 

Hope 

And hope rises 

So too do we 

 Up and up, higher 

We are elated, for the moment

Let’s enjoy this 

He is there 

I am here 

We remain seperate 

Let’s learn to make our peace with that

Peace we used to know

Peace we are learning to cultivate once again

From the pain 

Yes, 

Let us cultivate hope and peace from the pain we didn’t know what to do with yesterday 

Let us give it purpose