One Day

I was just a slave to your body I didn't care It was almost like some sick, twisted secret of my summer That I enjoyed immensely Though I loved you And though I had always loved you It was a sick sort of poison that took over The satisfaction at seeing my own nude body in photograph Your general devaluing of me The grim satisfaction of knowing that I wouldn't be enough for you That it would never be enough Your cruelty Your ability to focus Your lack of love for me And yet I fell more for you than ever before Maybe it wasn't supposed to be like this But the sick satisfaction of your body made it so The feeling of your hands Your ribs laying on top of mine Pushing me down under you Helpless and squished to death Your moaning And your sweaty smell I watched as you took the condom off and threw it on top of me With the windows wide open You told me to look I immediately shut them But I only grimaced And as I was left alone in your room The fan hum

You told me to lay down on the bed. So I did and I watched as you tied me up. My breath quickened. I knew that you were going to make a mess of me. "Are you nervous?" Was I even paying attention? Now I was breathing so albeit heavily that even I was a little embarrassed at myself. There was a distance between us. I could see it as I lay tied up watching you from afar. You were so focused. So intent on something that almost seemed like a task. I didn't know what you were going to do with me. Then you made me feel ashamed of myself. Humiliated. Almost disgusted at myself. Then you slapped me. Hard. Across my jaw. I found my head was spinning as you put your hands on my throat. Then I felt the life being taken from my body. My eyes rolled back of my head as you made a mess of my body. Then you came back. "Are you crying?" Yes. I was crying. In fact, I didn't stop. I kept on crying. I cried for months. I cried you away from me.

I feel disgusting. Not in the way that I am actually disgusting but in the way that no matter how many times I try to clean myself, I find myself getting dirtier and dirtier. Perhaps I am scratching my soul wrong. Is it possible to eat metal? I heard that the only way to not contaminate yourself is not to indulge into the small little luxuries that go along with food on a plate. Often the food is drenched in calories. Not me. I drink the carbonated soda from the soda machine at my school. It's midnight and my brain is running itself dry. What if I start really trying to fix myself? What would I become out of my own intent focus? Can a brain really stop working when it is trying so hard to do something that it is not programmed to do? That is what I ask myself when I am trying to get thoughts of you out of my mind. How far I will have to go to re-program my mind.

I wish I could remember life before I met you But it seems like you were always the notes I wrote The dreams I dreamed Now trying to look back at the way my life was going I knew it was always leading to you There were the signs everywhere The way I could look at the stars and know you were there That somewhere you existed That life would someday bring you to me Now this place is a graveyard of my dreams And you are going away I suppose it was necessary to move on from you Maybe if it is only for a little while But god I love you I know I have fucked it up I know how seriously and utterly I have fucked up everything with us But I can't imagine my life without you You really care about people You give me a purpose for going I just wish I could have given you one Which is why I know have adopted this new lifestyle And man It isn't exactly what I had hoped for This isn't really the person I wanted to be I just want to mean something to someone The way

It hurts to know That you are sick That nothing will ever help you No magical miracle coming my way To save me from this pain

As I sink deeper into my own despair I find that every is gone Not in a depressive, fearful way but In a zen fashion The dissolution of my ego The falling out of my brain Each day I make the walk to school Restling with my demons That once so bright and sunny girl is now scared Of everything Can hardly look up to see a comforting friend Always looking downward and removed I won't ever write a great piece Never have one understand completely how my brain works How it feels to have him threaten to hurt you To be dragged into a hospital by sheer will To bullied and rejected Growing up in a family with so many problems I suppose no one will get me Not in a selfish way but In a way that they never understood the whole story I notice it in the way they phrase the question I answer "It is a long story" Even as I try to go back and recount these events Leading to my removal from my life There is none She told me to go to the counselor I couldn't

They tell women "Be kind and patient. Smart, but not too smart. Confident but not confident enough that you would sleep with every guy you meet. And not so smart that you are bordering on crazy. No one likes a crazy girl." I am so done I think Can't find the words to speak Trying to smile and make things anew But what to smile about With the anger filling my heart? And you ignoring me Your phone on a constant block With the intimacy that we shared The way you wrapped your arms around me Letting me sleep on your chest Calling yourself a "lucky bastard" But then threatening to lash my legs and leave a mark Then the silence Little by little Into nothing I wonder if the Freshmen girls know what they are getting into Or maybe it's just me Feels like I have been stacked away on a shelf An old 'play thing' And I know it isn't love But it still is true The moment they come to my house I block their number I don't open the door I whisper to myself &qu

Behind the veil The sun shines through Planes fly overhead A new day Girls and women walking to church decked up in their new church clothes Laughter and smiles Hangovers Laughing and chatting I sit in my dark room Alone With a faint echo of the computer nearby  Realizing I got myself into this again Realizing that it may never end This feeling of loneliness And what was the world now that I think of it? A figment of my imagination Allowed to only the happy and beautiful

Party music booms from outside My ceiling is so dark that you can see the stars There are no messages on my phone You abandoned me all day While I waited for your text Crickets chirp outside in loneliness In my dreams are a thousand baby puppies Left to die from starvation I try to nurse them back to health but they are weak So I lay them on a bed, wrapping each one in a blanket Their little heads rolling back I try to force milk down their throat but all to quickly They fall back asleep No messages on my phone I am not complaining anymore No calls or texts Everyone has left me

It was the afternoon of the day I died. The church was holding an after school service for the students of local high schoolers because they knew that high schoolers no longer get up at eight in the morning on a Sunday to attend a church service. My parents wanted me to make friends so I attended.  I went into the building and was surrounded by a mass of teenagers talking and chatting while leaning up against the walls. Everyone had a friend but as I looked around for someone to talk to, I found more and more people staring at me. So I made a beeline to the bathroom. The people in the hall eventually cleared and followed the adults into the auditorium. "Should I go? Should I not go?" I asked myself this. The halls were beginning to become more empty. I stayed in the bathroom. The band began to play and I cried to myself. After two hours, the service had ended. A few girls had gone into the bathroom at the time noticing a girl sitting by herself on the toiled but they

I try to cut and shape my heart As best as I can Try my best to mold it into the perfect shape Unfortunately, I find as soon as I finish shaping the mold Trying my best to drift off to sleep Thoughts come back into my head Nagging me and pulling at my sanity I want to change my heart So I go back to shaping Go back to imagining you here When you were a kid Worried people would judge you by the color of your skin Restricted from full freedom but with a heart as mighty as a lion You learned to love your chains Began to respect everyone Creating within yourself a motto "Treat others the way you want to be treated" I wish I could do the same Because countless times After many insults  You never were really gone Though you could not take me again Your forgiveness is monumental I almost wonder how to achieve what you have Acceptance of the way things are I look to the past Trying to recognize why prejudices began to fill my mind Only to recognize the past as a dream I can no longer

Everything decays Everything dies away The brown brick is sick   The trees are throwing up From the cylinder blocks in the old, rusty shack To the dark windows of a building burned from within The walls have holes The sidewalk is chipped The yard is overgrown with weeds That car hasn't been used in months The silos have rusted over The fence around it has fallen over and is sinking into the ground People who walk by carry tremendous fat in their thighs Wires that haven't been managed in years At the tallest of the building A window looks out on the scene As if someone had pushed it open I look but no one appears in the window

I am going down the road The lady is pushing behind me I realize the effect of my actions Pushing myself far away On a road that leads to nowhere I seem to remember a time when I was put together The crystalized windows of the Presbyterian chapel reminding me of wholeness, stillness and perfection As a cacophony of voices reach a crescendo The sun shining on the football field Memories we will remember as graduating seniors going onto the rest of our lives Cinderella finding her Prince Eternal bliss in the comfort of suburban homes and holidays School events and ballet recitals Writing in my diary Waiting for that story that would inspire meaning Inspire hope But I moved on from that world into the country Seeing things in an entirely different light Beat up cars Dusty and scratched windows Butterflies dancing among the trash Abandoned trailers taken over by cobwebs and roaches Trees where you can walk in and cry but no one would hear your name The field were I offered up my virginity

Useless That is how I feel The clouds hang over the scene Releasing tiny rain droplets It is the day after my death Each face passing by the scene seems stricken with pity They look as a bystander  They sit with their hand on their waist Smoking a cigarette  Looking on from afar Staring at the ground and struck With an expression of remorse Each person who passes Continues on without seeing the scene Young families living with new promises Innocent to problems that may become upon them The trees are limp and they barely shake The man sticks his foot out again Leaning against the pole Smoking a new joint The clouds roll over, silent and grey

You tell me to trust someone again. I tell you that is near next to impossible to try. Oh sure, I have. Don't think I am going around saying "Screw the World" or something. I try to make nice, pleasant conversation with people. I appreciate their thoughts and musings. I watch them from afar, sometimes knowing more about them than I know about myself. I guess it's just different now. I have had a few lovers. Each one will look into my eyes and try to bring out of me that intimacy they so long for. A connection or something to inspire them and make them believe that they are unique and meaningful to the world. We all want to be meaningful. We all want to make sense and be loved and appreciated. Our struggles, our cries. Our independent thoughts. These things are separate between us and the other world. They keep us around in the same circles, circling over and over. Perhaps it is okay to have this sort of veil between us and everything else because everything else is us

Cut Scratch Scrape I am afraid It has spread To all of her organs Floating in her veins It has taken her Taken over her mind She will never be the same She will cease to be alive "Well, maybe you were better when you were off your medication." "What are you being, bipolar or something?" "I am afraid you will have to make some changes to the rest of your life that you might find rather discomforting but it is only for the best. You will get through this, finding yourself a new you." "You are just so..." "What am I?" I ask. "You can't even look inside yourself to see what is wrong with you? Maybe your head is really screwed on backwards..." "No, I am trying. I really am." Slap! "Quit your bitching." "I want to hang out." "No. Do you think I like hearing this?" "You used to like me once." "No. I think you were just imagining it."

Empty, empty I feel empty I feel the pain Seeing nothing They shout insults at me Only furthering The disconnect I am not here I will never be here Never can open my eyes Keep myself pointed towards some 'grand truth' What is truth Other than a construction A fabrication made by the human mind Then what am I? Am I some construction? Will someone look inside of me one day Seeing me for who I really am? Digging far enough inside of me They will only find others Their voices Screaming at me long after they have left

The Lady of Shallot Sat inside of her tower She saw the outside world Yet she could never touch it Could never feel the bristles of laying on a bed of grass Could never feel the sun touching her skin and could never imagine herself melting away The wind did not chill her bones because she could never go out to greet it The lips did not touch hers because they couldn't find her Did not know of her existence behind her walls Dreaming and waiting Listening and imagining The sun set each day in the window of her tower Creating a shadow on the floor She eyed it lovingly as it made it's way across the room up to her bed post What a joy it must be To be out there where they are free Where they converse and smile and play What a joy it is How I will never feel that way For one moment Maybe for only a little while I would leave this window and come down To catch a glimpse of Sir Lancelot If he happened to not be there and happened to be away I would gladly lay my

The blank Empty Hollow noise It fills my ears with a deafening roar Ever continuing Ever reminding me of my loneliness Ever continuing I stay awake inside The white walls Are my mother The ceiling fan is my father This seclusion is all there is Trapped inside Searching for what exactly? What am I doing If not destroying myself Every single time Then putting myself back together What if it means nothing To keep coming back Keep typing on the page For there is no response I know inside That my loneliness and feelings of being misunderstood Are much more real than the words The words Which can describe how I am feeling May be interpreted from different ways What if the actual conclusion of what I mean Finds itself interpreted backwards So what would I be saying anyway? What is this? Is this some kind of empty church? Do I find myself typing away into the histories of Valhalla Is there a point Or is there just numbness

Darkness, Darkness Eating me from out Darkness, Darkness Inspiring me, punishing me Darkness, Darkness From your eyes I can see the stars Darkness, Darkness An innate sense of pleasure A burning of my flesh Red ooze trickling from my wrists Spilling out Over the pavement A sacrifice To the world of the dead I gladly put myself on the cross Almost willingly I gladly sacrificed my soul So you could see the sun Darkness, Darkness Fading in, fading out Darkness, Darkness That cold and comforting blanket Pulling me inside itself Singing me to sleep Until the demons grab my body again

You held me For a certain time You touched me Smoothing the hair out my face You comforted me Soothed me with your words The lullaby and sound Drifting me off into sleep Now I know That the intimacy was short lived Now I know That no matter how much I try I will keep pushing you away until there is nothing left to give Nothing My soulmate For whom I can no longer provide So watch me if you can I am swimming towards you through the thick muck I look almost helpless and animal-like For all around there are stares at the grotesque of my being The helplessness that inspires pity from those around I don't know how to reach you All I know is that you are the only thing that makes sense The inevitable reality: that I will swim to you even amidst drowning

How far does a person have to hurt until they can't take it anymore? What methods of torture can we use to inflict all the pain in the world on a person? When we do inflict these methods of torture, will we finally feel a sense of retribution? I feel like Christ Walking through the city and carrying a cross on my back I can try to say it was my fault At least, that is what others insist on telling me That I was "selfish" and "only thinking of myself" Oblivious and unawares of all the other insults they threw at my face The truth is, however, that I can look back to how empty I feel inside Then I am not so sure anymore If it was my fault or theirs See I can feel the feelings of the entire Planet From this sensitivity, I can surely mistake that there is some sort of flaw in my own emotionality Only then I can also see the criticisms of everyone else Realizing just how true and how potent these feelings are for some people Then I am not certain anym

My name is Mata. I was born in Indonesia during the 1920's. I grew up in a village with many siblings. My mother wanted me to be a housewife when I grew up but I was a tomboy and didn't like those things. My mother went into grief when my sister was swept away by a tsunami. When I was near 20 years, I fell in love with a Dutch soldier named Adam. We traveled Europe but he died in battle. I came back to an Indonesia occupied by Japan and was sold as a bride to a Japanese soldier. His name was Kadmon and he took me back to a small fishing town off the coast in Japan. I birthed him one daughter who grew up Japanese. She went to America to get an education. Kadmon died of lung cancer from smoking too many cigars. I died in 1980's in a hospital bed and then I went flying through the spirit world into my counter body - a white American girl in Georgia in the United States of America. I was raised as a Christian and went to public school. In college, I met Kadmon and Adam ag