Love. You.

Run little girl, 

Run! 

Your days are starting to fill up with odd cravings

You want what you don't  need. 

Long for self loathing

Broken bones 

face black and blue from how much you love.. 

How much you thought you loved. 

You, her, she wept. 

Till the sound of your cries became the Symphony to match his pummeling fists

And you wanted and needed and loved and longed... 

You craved and got addicted to the cuts his words created

The gashes, the bleeding.. 

Only thing his lust left. 

You ran and ran in circles right back into his arms. 

He took you in

Broke your will

Broke your smile 

Broke your halo

Broke your light

Broke. You. 

And your existence became syncopated with the darkest part of him.

 He cannot make you better. 

His hands cannot reunite the stray colours that make you 

Made you

Saved you. 

They run even faster still

From him. 

Run little girl, 

Run! 

Don't you know? 

There is no love where he lays. 

And nobody can love you like you are meant to be, like you can and like you should love you. 

Love. You. 

Brown paper bags

Wrapped in little brown papers bags are gifts I haven't opened yet
Little trinkets from around the world
Places I visit subconsciously...
Physically it's just you, me and these walls.
Mentally it's the stasis of this situation
Emotionally it's the weight from all the sad stories about how many ways your heart has been broken.

These little brown paper bags act as a shield.
Your shield
Your pains shield.
If I rip them off those shiny little bits and bobbles, will your tears no longer be held back?
In a world where my hurricane and your tsunami come out for a war of wits
Will your suffering, your sorrow,  overpower my aching?
Do these newspaper print bows on this brown paper bag canvas look like the shades of gray in your life?
I'm more of a shades of black girl
More of a caution in the wind type of girl.

Wrapped in these little brown paper bags are myths about life and love.
About the mountains I'd like to climb
Great Wall I'd like to scale...
Places only my mind can play games in.
But sceneries you have seen as he made promises to you
About grandeur
About a love that won't end
About treasures in his pants
And kingdoms between your legs.
About the infinite ways he loves you
Loves to love love and love you and love loving you as you love him.

I say we burn these little brown paper bags
I say we tear down these walls and cry
I say we celebrate our shades
Celebrate our collosal emotional storms.

Wrapped in little brown paper bags are gifts I haven't opened yet.
Gifts from places I don't care for.
Little trinkets from places you would rather forget.

Scattered thoughts

It's sunset and our laughter has died down. 

The waves are hardly there and the shore is damp and deserted. 

We now bathe and bask

Find new form and build foundations for our awkward silences. 

The lack of things to say, shrill and piercing.

A war of words, without raised voices.  

She asks, do you think of me?

Yes. Probably all the time and never. 

Do you build castles from the dirt our love became? 

Try to scribble little notes and say they are for me

Convince yourself it's all my influence, unwanted and unwarranted. 

My anger, seething beneath the surface because you will not let me out. 

When did I become your prisoner? 

And not you mine? 

It's getting cold out here but she doesn't want to go back inside 

I've probably had her hidden too long... 

Locked in dark chambers, basements and the occasional casket. 

So I have to resign to my discomfort for her comfort. 

With us it's love then hate

Mostly love and mostly hate. 

Did I think of her? 

Maybe all the time and never... 

Her memory dragged me down like a sinking anchor 

Yet lay lightly on my shoulders like snowflakes and feathers.

Tore me down, yet soothed me. 

Now it's just me and her as the darkness creeps in

As it squeezes between us where the sun rays were. 

As the cold intensifies and the tide is home to roost 

Just me and her... 

All the time and never.