Walls

I believe I wrote this one just after I turned 15.

My stomach aches as if I haven't eaten in days

I have yet to see you, my joy, peace.
My wine and bread.
My body aches for you every second

of every day we are apart.

 

Deny me, you haven't,
though I must deny you.
Ignore the possibility.

Ignore the possible feelings,

the excitement of our youth.

Discard the truth.

Though I lust for your smile,

your approving and kind voice

I lust for you to hold me,

help me breathe a little bit.

 

Be my strength for just a moment

a tiny shred of time.
Let me breathe and be dependant

for everyone to see,

although it's just a moment

it still will last eternity.

 

Be there as my walls fall down

and tiptoe inside my cold little ground

Stay close as I build them back

smiling without a sound.

You're near, I can sense it,

inside my dark, sad world.
Seeing, I am upside down,

my smile is just a frown.

 

Take a seat and sit with me,

along the thorns and blood.
Watch as I cry salt-sweat droplets

from the strength I do not want.
Wipe them away with your burning lips

that set warmth into the glacier that is my soul.

 

Take my cup of cold, thick blood,

the stream which spilt from my injured limb

as if an angry flood.
Drink it and accept my flaw,

I am the one who draws my blood.

Butterfly kiss my wounds and breast,

where underneath my cold heart rests,

pumping blood into the veins I've slit so many times.

My inside out, blood screaming what I cannot whisper,

my scars are my shout.

Hold my heart within the silk-satin box,

open it upon the day,

allow the sun to melt away

my confusion and turmoil--

even if only for a moment now.

 

My sadness will return
Like the putrid air into my lungs
This confused, young cycle has just begun,

aiding me into my frosty gown of chains and spikes

where life and death are both alike.

 

Lie with me upon the mud aside the swine and worm
Kiss my frazzled, pulled-at hair,

detangling the angry weed,

smoothing it with Thine gentle eyes

and nourishing with your whispers.

 

Lay with me about the freezing,

the scorching and the pain,

staring up within the lonesome comfort of my walls so high,

painted outside with smiley faces, bear hugs and good-day sighs.

 

Inside, adorned with blood and knives,

lies and molesting hands that wave and always say goodbye.
Decorated with my insides, rotten with my doubt.
Lend me your shoulder for just a while,

let me rest upon your featherbed,

to relax my spine from all its twisting

 

And be my strength for just a moment,

a tiny shred of time before I push my insides deeper,

cleaning with no trace of sadness,

no sign of humanity about.

 

And be there as my walls fall down

and tiptoe inside my cold little ground,

stay close as I build them back,

smiling without a sound.

Author's Note

This was originally one big heap of letters. I broke it up some, but I'm still not sure about how I feel about. It reminds me of a Tim Burton directed dream.

Reviews

[Wildecat]

This is superb writing, a definite pleasure to read your poetry.

[Onyx Sky]

Very beautiful. The woman is longing and seems to already suffer from pain that she deals with by cutting.