Internal conflict

This is all about YOU! I want new poems nothing pre-written already. I want you to be absolutely true to yourself in what is conflicting in your life. Good, bad, ugly. Deep, Dark, Dreary. INTERNAL.

The one thing I need
I will never get
I need someone to love me
To care
To matter
But I am just an outcast
Tis the sorry way of fate
I will be lone forever
I will have to learn to live

Won't Fail Twice

Do you know how it feel
To dream with your eyes open
To have joy in your soul even when
Happiness seem to be so far in your past
To have love with each breath you take
When time was something other cared about
But when you’re with THAT
Special one it doesn’t exist
When you was complete.. Two bodies turn into one
When the stupidest stuff made you smile and laugh
When that person knew how you were feeling without words

I DID!!
I had that.
I missed that
I long to have it again
I FUCKED THAT UP

Being to egoistical to think I was immune
To having someone leave me
To prideful to admit I need help,
Shit to admit I was wrong.
I would rather have my nuts kick
Repeatedly than to suffer this again

How could I been so blind to my ambition
That I look at heart breaking in front of me
I was supposed to be the protector,
Instead I was the evader
Damn I had really fallen

To take away the twinkle that was once
In the eyes of a woman, I would
Had gave the stars to
That some punk move

I was supposed to be the head of the house
The priest, Her right hand man.
The one she leaned on
The one to help her grow

It amazing how clarity happens
Once your vision has to change
I final see past the mirage and will
No longer let it affect my reality

I'm missing you,
and I'm not doing very well..

...crying about crying
it makes no sense...

mind is just a mess.

all of these details,
all of these things I value...

will they be torn away from me?


I look around...
even in this tiny town.
buildings are being built, even more abandoned.

my child hood goals are left rotting in the dirt.

good people, stripped down naked, filled with
chemicals and smeared with make up...


...and I don't even have the respect to attend.



terrified to just take one step.



I just want to run to you,
don't even care if I never see you.

I don't even care if I regret it a few
seconds later..

My priorities are screwed...

I can't come up a solution.

and I just want to see you.



I just want you.

My internal conflict you might ask?
all the sickening things going on in my head?
the thoughts that no one has heard?
the things I never let show?
how long do you have?
How many minutes should I waste?

First loves,
heart ache?
unrequited love?
secret crushes?
sexual identity?
what can I say?  

so that takes us to another turn in my mind
are we still okay? or am I short on time?
Let's see this is where I had downward spiral
I began to hate food
the sight made me puke
I went from a health 16 year old girl.
to a fragile 17
having a BMI of 16

Struggling and struggling with this illness
it never goes away
of course you wouldn't think that if you saw me today.
I eat everything in sight I eat it all
I eat ever night
but no one knows that with each bite
I die a little
every time.
I hate myself
every time I eat.
every time I feel the food
crawl down my throat

they don't understand how hard it is.
to not stick my fingers down my throat.
to not turn around and just bring it all up.
It takes so much of my energy
I do not have much energy for much else.

these are the sick thoughts that are in my head.
basically.
the thing that keeps me alive.
is secretly the thing that kills me.

I’m Denying Any Hope


It is so close to a garden,
Trampled feet persuading attention
that you take to the bench
despite the roaring of warning.
You’ve made yourself comfortable
among the tallest of trees
attempting to catch glimpses
between each of the leaves.

But I’m not there
and I won’t stay
where metal and molded
binds me away.
I’ve got sand in my veins
and waves in my soul
and I’m begging you begging you
please let me go!

I’m afraid of these whispers
attached to the clouds
where wondering and waiting
have broken me down.

You’re not invited to sit,
that space isn’t free
this bench is my haunting
just let me be.
I’ve grown fond of the quiet
where deep surges roll
know the burden of silence
have paid twice it’s toll.

The stains on my hands
these dark spots on my knees,
the only life I can witness
blood that I bleed.
I’ve lived a thousand deaths
in years I can’t escape,
shed a million breaths
through a smile that is fake.

These muscles have faded
teeth grinding stone
and I’m planting and weeding
for the chance of a home.
I’m collecting silver linings,
pasting Before on my feet
as I flee the falsities of Ever After –
I can never admit that I wish we would meet.

Shakespearean Heart

‘To be or not to be’
That really is the question
Shall I end my life
This very night
To be freed
The pains of tomorrow
Or do I stick it out
In name of the love
That is no longer mine
If only in hope
It’ll come back to haunt me

Dark Poet

dark poet let your words spill upon the page
like blood from an open wound
liquid pain shall paint a naked canvas with
broad strokes of darkened emotion
in grayscale and lacking in vibrancy
monotone voices spill from within your own head
as you read these words
voices that you do not own or recognize
cascade into your ears and vomit from your mouth
as you involuntarily move your lips and read along
with unshakable attention and for fear that this
darkness may creep into your own soul
dimming your internal light and weakening your will to resist
the fear that the weight of this darkness will crush
your spirit and leave you hopeless in its wake

I have not come here to spread this darkness persay
but to share a glimpse of my pain
the world in which I try to survive but wish not to thrive
it is relentlessly cold in these shadows where I dwell
a chill like the coldest cold you have ever felt
a cold that aches to the very center of the bone
amongst these shadows where I walk alone
I wish to walk no longer in the chill of this cold
eclipsed in the darkness of these shadows
but to walk in the brilliance of your light
where I can warm my skin and dry my eyes
a place to stand up straight in despite of weakness
and where I can be strong in spite of myself
the disease which sticks to my pain and clots in my veins
steals the life from ailing heart
and keeps me bound to this dark

Vertigo

Ink spills virtuoso of lyrics effortlessly
in splash of bittersweet tangled tongues
sinking ghost ships and raising mural of tides
in dreamless state of confabulation

Love songs drape from cathedral ceilings
in purple prose of clustered grapes
ripened by scorching gaze of eternal sun
and cooled by twilight rays of lunar eclipse

The Meritage of verses drip in the chalice cup
spiraling incandescent creed of Calvinism
into parallel existence of baptismal suspension
siphoning stellar explosion of diamond dust ejecta

Dejecting..

Her muted thoughts weighted by quilt of patches
on a deathbed of a ripple-less loch of tears
tattered four chambers painted in ruby red
scatter over forked road, each leading to a nix

She breathes in the vapors from the black asphalt
tracing her fingers over the cold coffee stains
tainting her sky, plucks down another poem on love
in shades of vertigo to warm her heart

and the waves

this is who i am: a second hand book
at a charity shop waiting to be picked up.
yet i know better than claim my identity
in words and words like poet.
i take my place in pages that haven't
been filled yet; in the spaces that
haven't been thought of yet;
yes, the ones who distinguish one word
from another.

Conflict

I want to
But am scared to
To fly away
to a beloved
will I be welcomed
will I overcome

I desire so much
but I feel incomplete
will I bring dissatisfactions
dissentions and pretentions
If I don't I may prevent
a beginning of tensions

Do I or should I
sacrifice a glowing dream
Without trying
to walk that golden path
scared of a perceived nightmare

I want to
But I'm scared.

(I have gone for the prose approach. Hope this is Ok.)

Altitude

August 2010. I'd swallowed my own vomit to get on the flight.

To this day I'm not sure exactly what it is that terrifies me about flying. It could be the thought of hurtling through the air suspended between air currents 30,000 feet from the floor. It could be a morbid fear of death. It could just be that small spaces terrify me. Lifts. Cupboards. Caves. All of them breathless spaces with only one exit. Whether they are in the air or on the ground, Hell is disproportionate to its size.

We touched down on the runway and I thanked Jesus, Budda, Allah... whoever was listening that my feet were once again on the ground. The warm ground. We had just landed at Fiumicino airport in Rome. The air was thick with heat. My white skin ached with the alien feeling of warmth so unlike my own country as I headed into the arrivals lounge, holding my boyfriend's hand.

We spent ten days in Rome doing everything a tourist must do while they are in the city. The Colosseum loomed upon me like a big black sun in the middle of the road. I covered my shoulders as a mark of respect to yet another God as I walked cautiously and silently around Vatican city. Pietà stared at me as I walked the length of St Peter's Basilica to see her resting there in the dim light, saddened by the thousands of people that milled past only to touch her feet. On one of our last nights, I threw a coin into the Trevi fountain, and wished that I would be able to return to the warm cobbled streets of Italy, with all its sweet smelling coffee shops. Rome never sleeps, and the people never talk. Everybody is busy, everybody is going somewhere. It's a Mecca for solitary insomniacs the world over.

The heat can do wonders for love. When I left that city, I felt as if I had a new man in my life. We were so close to each other, so bound by our experiences and our discoveries that I knew that I would be with him forever. By 2011, I was.

The setting was completely different. It was the English Coast. The warm sun of Rome had died a spectacular death. The air stung our ears as we walked across the pebble-dashed sand, tracing the cliff line with our feet. When he asked me to marry him in front of a Van Gough sky, I said yes without hesitation. I looked behind me to watch the trail of my prints disappearing into the waves as the tide rolled in. History was washing away before my eyes.

I held his hand, burning the memory onto my palm.

When the storm broke over the sea, 2014 was sprinting through the cosmos. We had fought with bitter tears at 3am on a frost bitten morning. Words left one mouth. Retaliations left another. Flashbacks descended as grey clouds looming over my apathy.

There comes a stage when you can be too happy in life. Many people don't believe this, but it's true. You will reach a stage when everything is the best it has ever been, and you'll build your walls so high to keep that goodness in that gravity alone will eventually topple those walls to the ground. Rising from the dust will be somebody who doesn't look like they did before, and he was unrecognisable.

I was angry. Angered that the man I had in Rome, the man who asked me to marry him wasn't there. I was angry that this strange man who stared back at me in bed wasn't the man I had known for eight years of my life... and I loved him. I loved him more than anything else that ever mattered in my world, and I wanted to tell him how destroyed I was that those words were said, and most of all I wanted him back. I wanted my love, my man, my memory back. I would try to touch him, only to be faced by the same zoetrope of fears cascading around my angered skull.

Of course, I did all of this ending in the same place that I started. Sitting back in a chair, in a bare white room with the shadows on the wall. The ground is shaking.

I am still at 30,000 feet, in a small space, hurtling through Hell.

Back and forth
through my mind all day.
What I need to do,
and how I need to get paid.
In a dead end town,
With everyone competing for ground.
The steps I take,
roll back just as fast.
So I sleep all day,
and waste my time smoking grass.
Conceptualizing, about ideals that will never be set in motion.
It's a slow moving world, dragging you down to the ocean.

ive been chasing her in and out of my life.. in and out of my dream.. I feel like ive been chasing her ever scince a past life or lives before that.. I havnt got here.. maybe in the next life?.. I doubt it.. but I know ill try anyway.. ill try even if it kills me. ill die a thousand more times if I can just have her to myself one day.. I know I deserve better.. I know you will refuse to treat me how I feel I should be treated.. but im a fool..

opps pre-written