There are no pictures of the forgotten child
just second hand memories
of a police station handmedown
and too many mothers.

There are no echoes of my smile to be found in family albums

No book to lovingly hold the dates of firsts unwitnessed by love.

Yellowed paper bears witness to my existence, a name given, typed above that of an unknown Father and a mother too new to bear my needs.

There are no tales of first days and birthdays, no tears of joy at my arrival, nor at my loss.
Just me, a girl with no past and a stolen future, screaming at shadows while clutching at straws, hoping that someday my face will be reflected by that which I did not create.

Writing is like talking to a beautiful woman. Pelt her with shoddy words and badly composed sentences and she slaps you and walks away. Splash her full of ink and you only get a cheap **** with ripped stockings and too many scratched out tattoo's.

But,

Caress her with your pen, stroke her with loving splendor, decorate her with words and sentences like sparkling diamonds and you have her attention. Use old pick up lines and you entertain her, for a while. Be yourself and speak from the soul and you entertain her for a life time.

Just
  save your *******
for someone
  you actually cared about

Sometimes it's like the world stops turning,
Like time it's self just stops with the world,
Everything goes dark,
Everything stops,
It gets cold so cold I can't move,
Sometimes I don't know why but I treasure these moments,
Even though they cause pain,
Even though they make me yarn for things i have lost or can't have,
I treasure them because in those times I don't have I care,
All I have to do is just worry about my own survival.

Sometimes I wish I didn't have to survive,
Just let time take my breath away so I don't have to breath anymore.

~

Running in the shadows,
pausing neath the dawn
Climbing in through window sills,
curtains tightly drawn

Checking every corner,
ducking from the light
Hoping for a moment still,
shuttered in the night

Of this love forbidden,
cast of breathless view
Empty pockets, endless need
searching but for you

Can’t you hear me calling,
pebbles hit the glass
Pull me deep into your arms
‘fore the moonbeams pass

Take me as I’m pleading,
knees upon the ground
Staring to your silhouette,
formed of beauty found

Many questions linger,
falling from above
Landing square with weighted pain
saved of all my love

Take a chance, I offer,
let me light the scene
Follow where your heart does lead
here inside this dream

Matters of the distance
collected in the frame
Take my hand it longs for you,
love me once again

Ease my mind with searching kisses
roam my body, steal my breaths
trace my curves with fleeting fingers
******* life, my little death.

Whisper pleasures laced with poison
there I'll follow in their wake
weaving dreams at once thought daring
laying waste to passions ache.

Limitless I lay before you
bathed in alabaster glow
my eyes aflame with reckless wanting
to be the only love you know.

Such a noble little poet,
who thinks the future is in your hands
when it's in your head; poetry is dead.
But age does bring wisdom (after the fall),
so what good is it screaming at the wall
with still some good numbers to call?
What good is it screaming at the wall
when my door is never locked?
Come to me instead,
and don't say I never knocked.