I Believe when you Lie

Always is a word
That never should be spoken
By your lips.

Forever is vague
A concept foreign to your
Unfaithfulness.

How do we
Keep these strings together
That bind us?

I brought the yarn
But you came armed
With your scissors.

Cutting holes
In our tapestry and hopeful
Aspirations.

Viciously slicing
My frail principles into broken strands
Of spider’s thread.

I force this shunt
Into my chest to release the pressure
Of this pain.

Like junkies at the intersection
We wait desperately for the light to turn
Green again.

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-Unoriginal…

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Ugh!! I wish I could just be original without having to worry about being unoriginal.

So often, I feel like a copy of a copy. In the most real of senses.

After overcoming the standard childish narcissism, I swung into the complete opposite spectrum. I’m merely a plagiarism. 

Continue reading -Unoriginal…

The Perfect Model

Gazing through the wall of glass,
As the viewers stare and pass;
The perfect model of serenity,
Hiding the inner heart’s tragedy.
The perfect little angel,
Isn’t she sublime?
The passersby ignore the jail
That locks her in her mind.

The invisible chains that bind
The restrictions on her life,
The person that she is is trapped inside;
Inner turmoil, ragging strife.

Unbetrayed by the grinning face,
The pasted smiles and double lies;
The jokes that hide that hidden place,
That inner closet where the soul cries.

Inside her mind she’s screaming,
Her silent heart is bleeding;
At midnight she’s weeping,
A battle of wills competing.

Although the glossy lips are sealed,
The iron bars can’t hold her soul within;
Soon her concealed secrets will be revealed,
Now others can fault her secret sins.

Wherever she turns there’s a wall,
A detour to a dead end stage;
She’s a slave to others’ beck and call,
A jilted bird in a gilded cage.

Banging on the unyielding walls,
Leaning against the glass;
Waiting for the grim reaper’s call,
Blood dripping off the lance.

She left behind a final plea,
“My heart none can ever disgrace;
The world will always hate me,
Who cares about saving face?”