So Utterly Tired

Eyelashes like bars on her eyes,

locking away all her fears.

She's just so tired, 

so utterly tired.

Don't let it it escape your control, girl

you know what will happen.

She is past the point of no return,

but hides her sadness behind apathy.

Look past the blue and gray

and see the black slowly taking over.

It was you who broke her

Sound mind and body 

reduced to madness,

listen hard enough and you will hear

the chaos of her silence.

Stare straight and blank

absorbing but never omitting

any light

just absorbing;

the dark.

Call and she will not answer.

She is not mute,

do not underestimate her,

she does not speak because if she does

she will erupt and then there is no going back

everything will come crumbling down

and it will not matter until everything 

about her

is reduced to ashes

never once blinking until the dust settles.

But see what you have done?

You should have kept your mouth shut!

Lock and key,

chain and weight,

return the bars to your eyes, girl.

But she wont let that happen.

You call 

but she will not answer,

because if she does a world of pain 

will crumble around her,

and she is just so tired; 

So utterly tired.

Adventure

Dull ache.

Persistant pressure,

horrifying,

inviting.

Drooping eyelids.

Edging,

towards the blanket of darkness.

Tipping,

off a cliff.

Black road.

White eyes.

It's dark,

so clear.

Black hood,

outstretched hand.

Cold.

Inviting.

Dead.

Fight, 

strong hands pull

away from the dark.

Back to the

light, and the pain.

Someone's hand is pulling.

Pain and struggle,

it's worth it.

Dark and empty,

too easy.

Death is easy. 

Living is hard.

An awfully big adventure.

Streetlights

My bed lay underneath the window,

with a clear view of the street.

I would always look at the streetlamps,

and count cars instead of sheep.

Was I, so young, afraid of burglars or robbers?

Absolutely, no. 

The night held too many promises,

Of adventures and heroes.

I would imagine my stories,

Taken from my book that day.

I would put myself in them,

As always the heroine who always knows just what to say.

The Night was my chariot,

And it took me to a far away place.

Anywhere, and anytime,

I was in control of the time and the space.

Under my window,

safe in my bed;

but I was really somewhere else,

At least in my head.

And when I opened my eyes

I would see the streetlights;

And know I would come back to my adventures

Always the next night.

So young, not in control,

I loved my bed by the window.

Because I was always staring out and dreaming beyond,

It was a habit, I learned, I would never outgrow.

Each night was an adventure,

Each night a release,

I was in control of my life,

And it was how I found peace.

That’s why I loved my bed by the window,

And spent each night watching the streetlights, (Even when I was grown)

As they drew me, and took me,

To a place that was all my own. 

What my words mean

I eat up your attention,

 every morsel you dangle in front of my face.

Begging for more,

notice me.

This matters,

right?

I fear the day when my words won't matter.

What am I without this?

This is all I know,

and yet am I even good at it?

How daunting is the thought that

the one thing that matters to you

doesn't matter the world.

Isn't that what we all fear?

Invisibility.

Hypocrite

When I thought you couldn't stoop any lower,

When I thought your lies were all done....

Seems like you have a trick or two still up your sleeve,

because you go and you do this, and then you run.

Away from the truth your words fly,

and convincing smiles blur the lies.

But it will always be there, what you've done

Hidden deep inside.

You hypocrite, who justifies all that you do with lies, 

then judges with an iron rod.

You've compromised your "truths" and "morals"

By quoting your so called "god"

I thought you had changed because you said you did,

Dad how can you do the things that you do?

I thought you said you loved me,

I guess that was a lie too.

Shadows

The sun is bright,

illusion,

what monster hides behind your

beautiful folds?

A child down the street greets

the warm day with a 

smile and a laugh.

Opening his arms

to grasp at the air

with his chubby fingers,

his face skyward.

The world is his.

To explore.

To create.

But his smile is unaware

and his heart is not prepared

for this world.

I shudder to think of the day

that he must face the sun

unfiltered by the sheltering leaves,

and without a breeze to cool his face.

He does not know that 

monsters hide behind beauty and promises.

He does not know that

the more terrible monsters are those who

 once upon a time, brought sunlight to your life.

Only to take it away.

He does not know that 

one day the sun will forsake him

and throw him into a darkness, 

complete.

He does not know, but 

he will learn, one day;

all too soon, that

the brighter the light is,

the darker his shadows will become.