Don't tell me I am beautiful
unless you have seen my soul.
Don't tell me I am beautiful
unless you have touched the dark corners of my mind.
Don't tell me I am beautiful
unless you have brushed against my scars without me flinching.
Don't tell me I am beautiful
unless you can see me for more than my ****** structure and pretty eyes.
Don't tell me I am beautiful
unless you are willing to sit up with me while I cry in the night, it will happen.
Don't Don't Don't tell me I am beautiful
unless you see me for who I really am under my mask.

You are naked.
Alone.
In this room you have been in countless times,
but is in no way comforting.
The walls are all white,
the floor, sky blue and white
checkered tile.
You look up,
the single bulb flickers for a moment,
you walk towards the tub
in the center of the room,
it is an old style tub
with the clawed toes.
You turn the faucet,
it begins to ooze
dark red.
Is it mud?
or maybe blood.
you plug up the tub,
and sit down on the edge.
You watch the ooze
slowly covering the porcelain
and you get in
you sit down.
The ooze comes just up to your knees now.
It is odly cold
staining your skin.
You shiver,
but lie back anyways
as if to relax.
The ooze creeps up over you
engulfs you
smothers out all your senses
except sight
everything is silent now
and you can no longer breathe
The ooze is all around you
sloshing over the edge of the tub
and staining the tiles
sky blue and red.

I put my war paint on
I wear the stripes
and I carry my sword.
I pick up the pieces
every day
I march on.

In reality I am
a village
burned to the ground.
Behind closed doors
I am a causality of war.

Yet come sunrise,
I pack up my sorrows,
I march on.

The torturous insomnia
gives way to nightmares
that chill her to the bone
and the nightmares break
leaving her empty and depressed
and she lies in the crushing darkness
sleepless and terrified.

Love is not polite
it does not need to be invited
over the threshold and into your heart.
Love comes like a thief in the night
claiming who it wants,
claiming what it wants.
Love is not docile and calm.
Love is a warrior,
breaking down the best armor
and crushing those in its wake.
Love does not spare the feeble of heart.
but finds them
and binds them
and makes them its slaves.
Love is not patient,
it does not wait until the time is right.
Love is violent,
it demands to be felt
deeply, and completely.

I am in love with places
I have never been
Places I may never go.
I long for a man
I do not know
A man who may not exist at all.
I give myself
as friend
as companion.
I crave love
affection, passion.
My heart is full of these things
and yet, I am empty.
My soul calls out for something
that I cannot
bring to words.
I am sound of body and mind
and yet,
I am broken.

Aurora,
you were change
you lit my life
brightly and beautifully
for just a little while
you showed me what it was
to not be in darkness
your light illuminated me
and all the pitch black things
I had been living with
fled.
But your light left me blinded
blinking
once you were gone.