I am peaches turned bad

Rotting inside my skin;

maggots devouring

I am the the paper casing wrapped around fast food

Designed for discarding

I am a burned out car

Battered and used;

Abandoned somewhere

In nowhere

Purpose incinerated

I am the mud trodden into carpets

After galavanting in the forest

Drenched in germs and bleeding stains

I am a child beaten

Damaged and tainted;

Incapable of ever being the same

I am dumbbell weights

Down to my bones

Shamed

I am unheard screams

Desperate

Broken

A raging flame.

I am the ledge my toes balance upon

I am the ten foot fall that splits my skin

I am the pavement that shatters my skull

I am living death

Can’t you detect it’s scent?

I’ve concluded

That life should come with a consent form

Of old age and heartbreak;

And acceptance of things that should never take shape

On reflection of hard times I find

Myself reminding my reflection,

That it’s all for a reason

There are simply no accidents

Every negative has a purpose;

it’s all channeled into positive

Whether or not we consciously know it

We must have faith in the shadows

For they provide purpose to our path

We must

Cling to the knowledge the light will come

In flecks or In showers

We must trust in our mother universe

Even when our mothers are no where to be seen

By moral obligation, by birth

Life should come with a consent form;

To sign our souls over to acceptance

Of loss and hardships

Of all that lay in the land of unjust

To allow, over a lifetime

Our bones to be broken and shattered

Before we rebuild our own rebirth

It is then,

We enrich our souls with our own

Bespoke letter of consent.

How can it be

That no one hears the silence

How can it be

That they don’t hear it’s piercing screams

How can it be

They don’t see my world spin on its axis

Every time I take a blow

I’m locked in a black room

Screaming alone

Scratching and scraping at the door

Begging for release

Desperate to be seen

The world sees my surface smiles

Clown paint splashed across my face

Wash the evidence from my hands before they

glance

They’re blind to the concave indents buried in my chest

Dumbbell weights

Can blame be laid upon the door of their ignorance

Or is the way I internalise the culprit

My burdens are mine to bear

I feel,

Perpetual repulsion in voicing them

Not because they will be met with censure;

But because they are petrified of exposure

The way bowels ache to stay untouched

If a person were to rip them through the diaphragm

Just to analyse through tinted glasses

Contort their purpose

They would simply fulfill no purpose at all

And die amidst bitter air.

Alas

I reach in vain

For words that see my fingertips

And sprint with all their worth

From my uncertain grasp

Words that need, so desperately

To be heard

Words that secretly need a mother’s comfort

Refuse to be seen by societies glare

Indignantly retreat, for they know the degradation of being thrust beneath the limelight

To be picked apart like eagles prey

In the merciless pit of incompetent idiots

That have no place pushing their tainted perceptions

Making them such an imposition

The thought alone is enough

To force every cell I posses

To recoil

Like a mother python protecting her nest

Keeping her children warm

You don’t disturb them while they rest.

The world and his wife need crude descriptions of every dark corner

To even vaguely understand a persons reasoning and demeanour

Endless explanations

It’s hardly a wonder I find the world so tiresome.

Why do they not see me?

Why do they not read between the lines displayed in my eyes

And glimpse my soul

Hands on my skin are nothing

To reach out and touch my spirit

Now that’s intimate.

How can it be

That no one hears the silence

How can it be

That they don’t hear the crippling screams.

I am the steel plated locked door

You are the intricate key

Countless sets of clumsy hands have fumbled to pick the lock

Each one eventually chucking their chosen weapon to the concrete by my feet

Exasperated in their defeat

Longing to feel draped in all that lies in the unknown

Broken down to dust as they realise the end destination for our collision

Was inevitably a lone ticket home

I barely feel the struggle against my palm

As yet another attempts to push past arms length

Just another featureless face trying in vain

To smash my stone walls

It’s almost comical;

that they truly believe their glass hammers hold hope

I see their souls through their eyes

I see their demons dance

Lurking in the shadows of their words

They hold their hands on the holy book and

swear me only truths

Then comes the sadistic glint switch in the

depths of their minds

Confirming that swear of truth

Was the first lie

Generic, predictable lies that feed my pit of

detachment and despise

Like a pack of ravenous lions

Sugar dipped promises act as a fully

primed fishing line

Time spent is nothing but sitting back on deck and setting up camp

Waiting for the days big catch

My third eye is their worst nightmare

And my, heaven sent saviour

My third eye is the lock

Your purity is the key

You are my living proof that genuine love and intent

Isn’t just a fallen leaf

That tree still breathes beauty

Even if it’s never you and me

I thank you for that grace, truly.