Rock, Paper & Scissors




Rock, Paper & Scissors:
Rocks can weigh the paper down,
Like dead weight you lug around.
Paper covers the rock by constricting,
Like excuses you cover all your failings.
Scissors bend and fall apart,
Like the words that sting and stab the heart. It’s the worst game of Rock, Paper and Scissors; And we are still playing it!

So, this time I’ll be the stone,
as your paper crumples into folds.
Over my dead body you don’t need to be strong, I was wrong to hold you, just like love I erode.
This time I’ll be the paper,
as your sharpen your blades.
Cut me into pieces until your misery fades.
I’ll come back with just enough tape,
pretend like I’m the hero without a cape.

This time I’ll be the scissors, as your rocky exterior holds back your very soul. Crushing me with gravity of you black hole heart, I surrender to you, take me out and break me apart.

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Through the glass she looked


She was the innocent child thrown out to the wolves and learnt to crave his knife to lead the pack instead. Adventure was her snowflake that beckoned her to come out and play. Through the looking glass at the end of the tunnel she stood; taking her breath away was the last thing on his mind. She was never his or her own. She belonged to something far too unknown. She detested recycled stories of boy-meets-girl. Yet, she got entangled in his dream catcher and all she could do was stare. Weak men ran away from her cause they lacked the strength to fix the broken. He was a fixer and knew exactly how many and where the stitches go!

Failure to recognise a golden heart

I know you have tried and that you have been hurt. I know that feeling inside you wanting to give it another shot but at the same time, wondering if it is worth it. You start to think he does not care enough about you because if he does, he would have said something by now. He would have put in the effort and made it undeniably obvious that he wanted you despite what happened. You would have received that text or call you have been waiting for as you endlessly check your phone.

In silence, you realize that you want this to work with everything that’s within you. You want to love him and all that you ever ask in return, is for him to take care of your heart. Yet somehow, when you start to love someone so much, they see it in the way you act and the way you look at them. They know. They start to think you will never leave followed by a string of actions that suggest he is taking your love for granted.

At first, you make excuses for his actions because you want to give him the benefit of the doubt. After several occasions, you realize that you have made too much compromises and have been let down way too many times for you to count. You find yourselves stuck between trying harder or letting it all go because you will hurt either way. You struggle all night to decide between following your heart or following your mind.

Then you picked up the phone and dialed his number at 4am because you can’t take it no more. You need to know what he is thinking. You want to know if he is just as restless as you are. And then it happened, he picked it up but there is something different about the way he speaks it was half-hearted. You hung up, tired and broken. You’re thinking to yourself “Is loving someone supposed to be this difficult?”

As the sun rises, you eventually come to a painful realization that he is taking your love for granted. Yet, with your broken heart, you text him for closure. You choose yourself over love because you know you have given it your all. You choose yourself over love because you loved with all of your heart. You choose yourself over love because you know you did everything you could have done to make it work.

Your phone rings. You look down to a preview of regretful messages but they are a little too late. Your heart is broken. You choose yourself over love because you know your golden heart is too precious to be wasted on someone who fails to see it.

Play it cool, independent girls don’t love

The feelings rush into your heart as fast as gasoline setting on fire. It has been too long since you’ve felt this way and it burns deep. You try to play it cool as much as possible, but you’re the type to wear your heart on your sleeve. It’s inevitable – the wants, the needs, the desires.

Everyone tells you to let him come to you. At this age though, why is that still a thing? You’re over the games, you’ve dealt with being alone and you’ve experienced love followed by heartbreak. You know what you want and that shouldn’t be your fault.

The days you’re together are magical, and the nights those lead into are a fairytale. You start getting to know everything about each other. Staying up until 4 am asking and answering every question imaginable becomes routine. He gives no indication you’re moving to fast, no sign of turning back, no thought of wanting to slow down.

Then there come the nights he wants nothing to do with you. You’ve discussed the whole communicating thing and expressing feelings. You’ve had endless talks about your sensitivity and your neediness. At the time, he believes “it’s cute”, “it’s endearing”, but in reality, its pushing him away-until he’s gone.

Feelings of insecurity and hopelessness surround your brain. Second guessing yourself becomes a daily activity. Why isn’t he inviting me out with his friends? Why doesn’t he want to constantly spend time with me? Why doesn’t he try to go above and beyond? You’re used to being the pursued not the one pursuing and it’s killing you.

How is it fair that because feelings overwhelm your brain and because you acknowledge them, you’re in the wrong? I want a love that is pure and magical but apparently that is too much to handle.

I’m an independent woman. I am strong, I am smart, I am outgoing but all of that combined with knowing what I want, is against society’s norms. I am not allowed to express how I feel, I am crazy if I am too interested in someone, I am needy if I want to see the person I like multiple times a week.

I can’t control it though. I deserve a person that doesn’t just “handle” me but truly wants me. I deserve to not only feel happiness from myself but also from my partner. While some might think that’s too much to ask, it shouldn’t be.

It’s the heart that saves the world not the cape…

I know you’re hurting. I see the pain in the lines around your eyes, in the way you carry yourself, in the way you are guarded, cautious before letting anyone in. I see your hesitation. You don’t want to trust someone, for fear they’ll be just like the last. You’re tired of giving people second chances that they don’t deserve, or the benefit of the doubt. You’ve been broken one too many times to trust so easily. You’re tired, so damn tired of the same routine.

I wish I could pick up your heart and hold it in my hand. I wish I could bandage the cuts and soften the bruises. I wish I could mend each tattered piece and wipe it gently, softly, patiently, carefully, until it shines once again.

I wish I could fix your broken-ness, make you believe again—in the world, in yourself, in the strength of your heart. I wish I could help you see that not every person is the same, not every situation is negative, not every time you lean on someone will you end up face-first on the ground, beaten and wondering why.

This world is an imperfect place filled with imperfect people.
This world is filled with anger, with bitterness, with hate, with hardship.
But that’s not all it is.

This world is filled with people you can depend on, with memories that will make your heart sing no matter the time that has passed, with love, with celebration, with strangers that will show you all the ways you’ve been blessed, with children who will always put a smile on your face, with laughter, with sunshine, with kindness, with kisses, with forgiveness.

I see you standing there, shoulders shrugged, mouth turned into a harsh line, walls up. You believe you are broken, and you think there’s no changing that. But I wish you could see what I see—someone who is so strong, strong enough to get back up after every fall. And strong enough to continue forward.

I know you try to do it all with a smile on your face and heaven in your eyes, with the entire world on your shoulders, like a feather from a bird who will never stop flying, but I can see your heart showing under that super-hero you try to be and it’s time to throw out the cape, because it’s your heart that keeps saving the world.

What you have right now is a choice. A choice to believe that this is as good as it gets—that people will always leave, always disappoint you, always hurt you. Or that life is on a continual circle, and though there will be bad, there will be good. Always good.

You have the choice to hang onto your pain, or to let it go.

You have the option to see all that has happened to you, to shake your head, to be angry for a moment, then to take a deep breath and exhale all the negativity. You can choose to fight. You can choose to forgive. You can choose to move past what has tried to drag you down.

You have the choice to no longer allow what has happened to you change your life. Because this is your life, and only you can control the outcome. You are strong. You are resilient. You are pieces of your past and where you’ve been, but you are even more beautiful pieces of what’s to come.

You are what you choose to be. So be strong enough to leave the past behind, for good. Be strong enough to walk forward with confidence. To forgive those that have tainted your story. To let go of what doesn’t grow you into a better person. To smile at your hurt and know that you will overcome it.

This is your decision, your future, your happiness at the edge of your fingertips. Only you can choose what path you will take, but I hope you choose to set your heart free. You are a beautiful person, and you deserve that.

Whores of Poetry

I want to be fucked the shit out of my insecurities
Until the beauty of my soul spills onto the cover that I always hide under.
Until I lay there,
Stripped off my flaws lying ass naked in my desirability.
And then maybe I will attempt to take my clothes off.

Some people have fucked my quivering heart until it has shattered
And I’ve turned those whores into poetry.

A deadly combination of words is my something borrowed from an anonymous and Marisa Crane

The Broken Puppet on a String

It’s not you. It was me! I made it easy for you to leave.
I filled in the blanks with words I wanted to hear
God alone knows I held onto you with fear
You never promised me anything yet I believed the emptiness,
It was me, I dug up the hole in my heart that led to the messiness.
I was manipulated by you like a puppet on a string,
Look I made it my fault – ‘This Thing’

All I wanted was to hear your voice, I even had it mapped out how I would rejoice.
Sometimes that’s all I needed was a lie, the only thing I ask now is why!
I wanted to see your face and kiss your bearded chin,
There after the world will know I sinned
Those eyes that saw me through the pictures, so defined and sculpted it created different mixtures

I wanted to smell the Playboy cologne off your neck,
Even if it meant you disappeared without leaving a speck
I wrecked my heart from the start to finish,
Don’t take it personal I wanted to diminish
All to just hold your cold hands under the umbrella,
Run away with you like I was your Cinderella

The little girl who believed in fairytales had been broken,
by several strings she left unspoken

My heart pines for you and its plain wrong. All I want to hear from you is ‘So Long’!
A closure if you dint want me closer, my friends say ‘he owes her.’

Just hurt me. Tear me down to my last gut,
I’m not doing all this just to be your slut.
How easy is this to act like its not much, drain me off my feelings without so much as a touch
Upper-cut my jaw like you were taught, jab your way to being a big shot.

I lose my consciousness, while you get to glory your confidence
You don’t really care for a consequence.

The broken puppet on multiple strings,
She will disappear without so much as a telephone ring.