Downhearted I sit, listening to music that once moved me, that once brought in the tides of emotion. How, lost, I have allowed myself to become - Once filled with a glowing heart and dreaming mind. Barren, dulled to my own dreams, pounding Subjected to their torments Bashing against the boned walls, desperate to break free, Pleading to swim upon the deep green sea. A tangled creature, complacent in the shallow breath of fate. What have I become. What have I suffocated in my fight, to be a warrior, to be strength, to be might. You brush words across my shallow sight. Do you not see my dimmed eyes, my spirit locked beneath the dirty minds of acceptance. Do you not taste my void. A vine strangling the body of nurture, Scandent, wrapping to a warmth it is unable to produce. Rehearsed words, regurgitated to fit the frame you keep in place I can build an empire, too. With blood, sweat, and tears you will never know fell for you. I can dance upon the graves of my happiness and plead to the Devils succulent promise. I am no longer the innocently cruel being you hold dear; I am rage, I am war, I am love broken into the constellations. The constellations that shine even when your bright light rises. My shadow remaining deep within your questions. I sit, listening to music that once moved me That once brought in the tides. How? Lost, I have allowed myself to become - Once filled with a glowing heart and dreaming mind...

Herstory Happy Women's Day! ❤️ She was once fragile, a whisper of what she could become. She was once an echo of the woman who held her tiny hand, helping her navigate through the fears of this land. She was once gentle in matters of the heart. She once was vulnerable, comforted only by the suckling of the mother’s gift. But, that is only the beginning, you see. The vision of protection, for the tiny queen. For she is fierce, determined to meet the demands of growth. She is wild and wicked in her heart. She is demanding, stubborn in her refusal to slow. She held anger on a leash, letting it play outside her soul. She bruised and bled as thoughts devoured her head. She started wars with a single word dripping from her lips. She partook of forbidden fruits, choosing free will, making the choice! She became the definition of sin. She created the need for religion. She once held men to their knees, children on her hips, while dreaming of the world between, one that would become history. She is fearless in her search to find the one to hold her tight. To make her feel like the brash woman she had become was not a loss as her gentle spirit became undone. She is in need, so deeply in need. She is fragile. She is free. She is calloused by the world’s greed. She is the villain in the story. Yet, only she could be the heroine who could do anything. She is, and that’s the point, you see. She is part of everything.

Deemed, Villain. It was within her reach Every last piece. Like a dream-weavers composition Entwined upon the wings of love-laced lies She laughs like a mad god Disguised behind the clouds While the webs catch her tears. A spiders gem, held in silk. Her dreams reflecting, blinding, polluting reality. A sickening symphony, Woven beyond reach. She fights, still, as the frigid wind comes. Wings beat heavy around her, Stale her heart remains for, she knows, hells prison guards always catch The deviled dreams and in angel eyes, her cell waits. And the dreams The dreams return to gods side.

Stone Grave I watched black hearted men Carve caskets out of sin With laughing eyes and #lifeless smiles As if they had been doing this a while. My nature stirred unspoken words As I sat behind my window pane Curious if they'd lived in vain or If the times had shaped this shame. Women passed by in black gowns, Wiping sparkles from their eyes of light pressed to see what the men bring To this town of meager means. Day and night I'd watch as the men carved Repeating the same song. I could not look away, from the ease... the ease. I could not look away! Might I have stumbled into to sleep? I'm standing there, among them. Surrounded by the song. But, I am not with meaning. My stone legs rest upon a pedestal Has fear held me tight? Unmovable, I can only stand in place As radiant white flashes by, whispering goodbyes -

The System Child She wore it Out, before understanding. Collections of art Strewn, filling her room. Collapsed in ruined meaning. Corded strands, hanging past her chin Plugged into her disastrous mind, A wired amplification, swung to a beat Her feet can never quite keep. Paint peeling from her hole-punched walls Frames without pictures, pictures without - walls crumbling concrete promises. Protruding rebar impales A stuffed childhood friend. Up against her floating bed, She sits with legs spread, Unaware, unprepared, under Someone else's care.