shepoet

She travels many journeys alone, She travels many journeys a lone. A lone who hopes to find peace. A lone who hopes to pick each piece. Pieces from a rain of your painful reign. She travels many internal journeys She travels long and far. With questions from the penitentiary, Even with years gone she is still in the discovery Trying the recovery but she still feels dirty. Muddy from your hands and artillery. She grew a shell to cover her empty heart, Made her barriers too wide, Built her walls too high, Dug her valleys too deep. She buried her soul in ice. Yet she still feels like that child. She is grown and thirty, She is a glow and curvy, She is an envy and in the army. Strong. Fancy. Beauty. Mighty But deep inside she is empty. She is angry, because of the pain she has to carry Iced in the past, chained to misery. x

You care when it is colourful, You are there when the sun shines, You smile at the rainbows. Colour. Collar. Dollar. You are a ride or dye. You show up during the day, You never break the door to rescue her soul, You never stretch your arm to pull her. Flair. Flower. Flights. You are a ride or dye. When darkness covers her world, you hide. When rain hits her spirit, you vacate. When stones fall on her pulse, you turn. Run. Pan. Gun. You are a ride or dye. When she calls your name, silence. When she hold your hands, sirens, When she is fading off, sightless. Desistance. Resistance. Distance. You are a ride or dye. You ride only when there is dance, You ride when diamonds are in the stash, You ride a way from the mud patch, You hide when the die calls for your touch, Ride or die? Not really, you are there for the dye.

In the calm of the night, you crawl in to her space. You whisper to her consciousness; you shout at her attempts to ignore you, She covers her ears, but your voice cuts through her hands and heart. She tells you to leave her alone, you laugh at her. You grab her mind, you crash her soul. She feels her breathe leave her body. She feels your spirit push her to the corner. "I own you!" you whisper into the echoes of her existence. She can't stop the voices, she feels herself submitting to your power. She tries to call for help but who will hear her? Why should they hear her weak but loud voice?..wait, do they even listen? The door to the rabbit hole opens up. You push her in...You push her deeper...in to the dark. She is lost. She is all alone...with herself...and you, her..you..who? One! You are now one. You confuse her. Then you consume her. You are now in control; the master. You throw the positives out, Your cold, dark, painful, selfish reign beg

Lie to me, please me. Lie to me, heal me. Lie to me, for I am not living, Lie to me, I need it. Mask me, pain. Mask me, vain. Mask me, vein. Mask me, drained. Mask me, I need it. I keep running from you. I keep hoping that I will forget. I keep wishing that I could forgive. I keep dreaming of your threats. I keep needing your pain. You have a hold of my being, You have the key to my thoughts. For you are demons. You are my master. The past is my master. Lie to me, please. Fry me, plain. Cry for me, pain. Carry me, past. Fly me, from this chain.