pirateoforange

the killdeer is dead. my little girl cried for a week. she cried for that noisy little feather-devil, that god-forsaken puppet. that warmed-fleshed thing that kept me up all night with it's whining. i loathed it's dependancy on me. "i need food" "i need water" "i need love" "mommy, make it stop"                                          (just shut up,                                                     shut up,                                                          please!) i'll be honest with God, she scares me. that blonde haired, brown eyed creature that i birthed. she scares me with her gaze.                  

i remember when i could breathe him in and he was smoke, sweetly choking off my lungs; not the rusting nails i feel now. ----

dear boy, don't you know your eyes are sparking unnatural disasters that are wrecking the temples of sand i spent so much time on? i intended to sleep tonight, but the storm of you is beating the sea-glass windows and blowing out all the candles i had lit. you're breaking down my dirt walls and flooding the floors with the salt water and ash from your veins. you're invading when i'm already exhausted. and how could i possibly rest with when you're bringing my heart to a screaming stop? Dear girl, Must I apologize for what I have done? I forced my unforgiving reckoning through, and cast your walls asunder. I relentlessly beat down upon you,

They call it water on the brain,                   But I think I'm just    crazy,          crazy,                crazy.

the horses are silent, and i'm covering my eyes just to hide the oceans. i want to get away from these guilt-coverd cliffs. i'm sick of the cloudy days and salt- stiffened air. sea-weed has found my pale ankles and the sand has found it's way under my eyelids. is this punishment or fate? i don't want this; the storms raging, provoking the waters. sea-stars leaving sores where they leached to my skin. i can't take the absence of the sun any longer and i'm drowning is this disease. i want to find your face again, feel your wind-blown hair in in my fingers. i wish you'd craddle me in your hollow bone arms, whisper too-short poe

I saw it again.                            That breathing,                             heaving,                              smoldering mass. It's struggled and crawled around on my cracked wooden floor, but couldn't get a g

Someone bring me down, from this unappealing high. I can't breathe, I can only bend to snap. I'm beating fists raw, and screaming into catastrophe. These words aren't mine. They're meant to for blind whispers between classes and I can see, but holy hell, I can't feel.

I'm in this "home" with my big black coat on,                                         but I can't help but shiver. Oh, how I'd love to decipher what you wrote late at night, but I'm afraid I just don't have the energy. I could argue, I could spit facts and hurtful things in your direction, but what good would that do? When you're the logical one and I'm only coughing up reasons to 'non-exist'. ---- I keep waiting for you to slip thr