Pushing it

You stab me with your reason.
But I'm impenetrable to your logic.
It's blades are no match for my shield.
My tough exterior protects
The vulnerability that resides within me.

You're persistent in pursuing my heart.
With each attempt I block you off.
With time you grow tired,
You rationally debate whether or not you should give up.
All odds are not in your favour.

You choose to stray...
Far from your beliefs.
You choose to believe,
In all that inconceivable;
In fate and destiny.
You choose to wait for me.

The Book of Love and Life

A reoccurring character:
In the story of my life.
A force of destruction,
You leave me breathless,
With every page you turn.

Hanging off a cliff,
I beg for your hand.
Time and time again,
You save me from falling.
I know when I fall,
You'll be there to catch me.

You are the protagonist of my dreams.
A hero in this mystery.
You've made it your job...
To discover and satisfy my needs.
Like a Victorian novel,
You pursue and court me.
You are my Mr. Darcy!
Like Elizabeth Bennet;
With a twinkle in my eye,
I detour your advances.

But our love is unlike any fiction or fable.
It is in fact reality...
You will be an important part in my Auto-biography.
Your importance in my life is beyond significant.

You settle my worries;
When things seem tragic.
You dry my tears:
When I'm frightened by horrors.
Our romance is beyond anything Shakespeare has ever seen,
Or written.

You are the rising action to my denouement ,
You are my climax,
You are the pages within me.

Healing

You inhabit the deep-rooted wounds,
You planted in my heart,
long ago.
You rip open my scabs,
When they've been healed over
You've lived deep within me,
And you now control my psyche.
You built and broke the bones that lie within my foundations.

I search for the light within you,
But you over shadow my attempts with darkness.
I give and you take...
My heart,
My soul,
My love,
My all!

I'd say that you contest me...
But without an opponent what is a fight?

You abuse your victims;
Who lack the sense to defend themselves.
You've taken my everything,
All I have to hold is you.

Yet I feel a raging fire,
It has set out to conquer...
The emptiness that once was.
The VOID that once proceeded,
My full and beating heart.

This bright and whimsical flame dances ,
It's tune now awaken from it's slumber.
With it's vibrant movement;
It sends waves throughout my body.
The positive energy flows...
Washing away your negative presence.


Your mental mind fuck has been put to an end!
I'm no longer bound to you.
Alone you're simply a black hole,
With no life to drain.

THE BOMB

Here we have three sisters, each with a two year age gap in between one another, one apartment and a billion awkward situations. What happens when one of the girls must drop a bomb? Will the others stick around for moral support? Or will they run away, saving themselves from the aftermath of her explosion?

(Stella bursts through the apartment door looking anxious and manic. She runs down the hall towards the bathroom and once she reaches the door she's let down by the fact that it's locked. Sabrina comes out of her bedroom to see what all the commotion is about.)

Stella: Hurry up! I needa go! I needa go!!!

Sabrina: What’s going on? You just came home. What’s up with all the drama?

Stella: I just spent the last 20 minutes walking home from work, looking forwards to the one thing I’ve had on my mind ALL DAY.

Sabrina: And what is so important that you had to interrupt my L Word session in the bedroom for?

Stella: I need to take a huge dump and Serena is hogging the washroom.

Sabrina: Just go.

Stella: I can’t do that… she’s taking a hot bath. If I let loose my bomb while she’s in there, the bathroom is gonna reek of hot shit, and not the good kind.

Sabrina: How considerate of you... Wait let me get this straight. You’ve been holding in your crap all day? That’s sooooo not healthy man why didn’t you go at work?

Stella: I can’t go at work. There are only two toilets in the whole world that I can get comfortable enough on to squeeze my ass cheeks apart, so I can drop the kids off at the pool. Ours and moms… that’s it that’s all!

Sabrina: You’re nasty.

Stella: Wait back up… “Interrupted my L word session in the bedroom?” If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were a dyke, locking yourself in a bedroom with haha no lights, watching chicks screw on a tiny laptop screen?

Sabrina: It’s actually a really interesting show, sorta makes me wish I were a lesbian… but no I love men. Stupid, lazy, can’t pick up a goddamn phone men.

(Serena exits the washroom joining her sisters in the hallway)

Stella: Thank god I thought I would never shit!

(Stella pushes Serena out of the way running into the washroom and quickly closing the door)

Serena: She’s always so obscene! What’s her deal?

Sabrina: You were standing in the way of her and the one part of the day she looks forward to.

Serena: What relieving herself?

Sabrina: That’s a nice way to say it.

(Muffled sounds come from the washroom)

Stella: WHHHHHYYYYYYY COME OUT OF ME NOW!!!!

Serena: Well this is a little awkward….

Sabrina: It’s hilarious!

Stella: EXIT MY ANUS YOU FUCKER!

Serena: Are you okay in there? Need any help?

Sabrina: What are you gonna do pull it outta her ass?

Serena: Of course not that’s gross… but she sounds like she’s in serious pain and I feel bad like I may have contributed to that.

Sabrina: It’s not your fault that we only have one washroom.

(Stella exits the washroom with a look of disappointment on her face)

Serena: Did it go okay?

Stella: No it didn’t go okay it’s still in there… teasing me… refusing to crawl out! I’m gonna have to wait to die before I can finally go number two.

Sabrina: Want us to finish you off? I mean since you’re in pain… It would be like euthanasia and then you can do what you love doing most, in your deathbed.

Serena: Ewww I’m not coming to your funeral if your gonna lay there crapping the entire time.

Stella: Thanks for offering guys but I think I’m gonna choose life… even if it’s a constipated one.

Sabrina: Well there must be something you can do… why don’t you drink some green tea?

Stella: Can’t drink caffeine.

Serena: Prune juice?

Stella: It’ll come out in the wrong direction. I can’t keep that shit down for the life of me.

Sabrina: Eww if only that were literal then you wouldn’t be having this problem.

Serena: Wait if you puke won’t you feel relieved?

Stella: Naw man I feel like I have a rock lodged up my ass… there’s no way I can puke that out. It’s gotta go out the butt.

Sabrina: I think you’re handling this the wrong way… it won’t come out with force.

Stella: What the fuck could you possibly mean?

Serena: I think what she means is that you need to relax and get in touch with your asshole.

Sabrina: Yea haha maybe you’re depriving your crack of tender, loving and care.

Stella: You guys are loving that I can’t shit… I love my asshole if that what you’re trying to get at.

Serena: But are you in love with your asshole? Maybe you should acknowledge it as if it’s your significant other.

Sabrina: yeaaaa give it a nickname… sing it a song.

(Serena and Sabrina break into song)

Serena: “It was brown and it had raisins…”

Sabrina: “This is the poop song… This is the poop song”

Stella: hmmmm that just might work… (Stella starts to make up her own poop song on the spot.)

Stella: “It’s time to drop the kids of at the pool! IT’S NICE!!! IT’S NICE!”

Serena: Awesome now go to the washroom, sing that song and love your anus!

Sabrina: Tell it that you care, make sure it knows that you’re both in it together!

(Stella makes her way back into the washroom and closes the door. Serena and Sabrina put their ears against the door so they can hear and give her moral support.)

Stella: “It’s time to drop the kids of at the pool! IT’S NICE!!! IT’S NICE!”

Serena: Is it working?

Stella: Ohhh it’s working!!!

Sabrina: How does it feel?

Stella: It feels amazing! We’re in this together buddy!

Serena: Damn straight we are that’s what sisters are for.

Stella: Not you stupid… my asshole!!!

THE END

In the know

Ten little fingers and Ten little toes.
I must be clueless because i'm only ten years old.
"Mommy can i try your lipstick?"
"Can't you see i'm busy, hush little girl."
I wear my pigtails, with ribbons and bows
And when mommy has time, she turns my hair into a head of curls.
On picture day last year she even let me wear her earings, plated in gold.
Mommy doesn't know, that i know, what i know
That everynight she fears the moment daddy gets home.
How he beats her to a pulp, how she has nowhere to go.
I see the bruises that cover her in shame,
I notice her flinch everytime she hears daddy's name.
I hear her cry in the middle of the night.
I feel her emotions, I know she's drowning in a Ocean.
I taste her misery, she tries but she can't hid it from me.
I may be mearly a decade old,
But the truth is i know more than i've been told.
I need you Mommy, i'm so cold and alone.
There's no reason to stay, lets leave, run away
Every day you loose all might, as you lay helpless refusing to fight.
I know you're stronger than you believe,
If not for you do it for me.
What a bout my needs...
My safety is in jeopardy.
I may be a child but i know whats good for you.
Ten little finger and ten little toes.
please mommy listen to me,
I am your friend and he is your foe.

The joy's of laughter

"What monstrous absurdities and paradoxes have resisted whole batteries of serious arguments, and then crumbled swiftly into dust before the ringing death-knell of a laugh!"

-Agnes Repplier

Laughter is my shield.
Laughter is the pillow that soaks up my tears when i cry myself to sleep.
Laughter is my knight in shinning armor.
Laughter keeps me warm when I'm cold and alone.
Laughter disguises the tears in my eyes as tears of joy.
Laughter gives the appearance of keeping me sane...
But I laugh at the fact that I'm loosing my mind with each and everyday.

Everyone needs some sort of coping mechanism. Well not everyone I guess. The world is not as unstable as I. For example: Those people who function on a daily basis and are able to be content and satisfied with themselves and their insignificant existences... how do they manage?

It's inconceivable that not everyone has to wake up every morning and convince themselves to wake up and go on with their day... live their lives. That, for some reason it's barely a struggle, let alone a war between body and mind to get up out of bed and live alongside the rest of the world. To look a stranger in the eye and exchange looks, gestures and words because basic forms of human interaction are considered part of the norm.

Why live among people who have no value or use to you? Why tolerate people interloping, judging and analyzing your way of living? The delusional part of me believes that I may just be the one who is indeed "normal." I see life the way it's meant to be seen. I know we only live to die. I refuse to live my life in any sort of way that is expected of me.

Laughter is my shield.
Laughter is the pillow that soaks up my tears when i cry myself to sleep.
Laughter is my knight in shinning armor.
Laughter keeps me warm when I'm cold and alone.
Laughter disguises the tear in my eyes as tears of joy.
Laughter gives the appearance of keeping me sane...
But I laugh at the fact that I'm loosing my mind with each and everyday.

Despite it all I'd rather just laugh.

Solace

"We're born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we're not alone."

- Orson Welles


Everyone would like to feel as though they belong.
The thing I detest most is being on my own.

Left out in the winter cold,
No one to keep me warm...

I can always count on the comfort of my home.
I always feel needed when in the presence of family.
And when we are separated I feel their absence profoundly.

I remember the first time I felt disconnected and alone.
No one to love, Nowhere to go.
Left to roam the streets on my own.
Burned by the glare of stranger; peering into my soul.
Bruised by the wrath of their stick and stones.

I remember the pain, as if it were yesterday.
My knees were torn, somewhere between kneeling and standing strong.
Without anyone to influence me, everything I say and do is wrong.
My vocabulary is limited, my thoughts can't be translated into words.
My tongue is tied, my guard is down.

I remember feeling defenseless,
I remember being alone.

The Perfect Vision

"The quivering, ardent sunlight showed him the lines of cruelty round the mouth as clearly as if he had been looking into a mirror after he had done some dreadful thing."

- Oscar Wilde (The Picture of Dorian Gray)

My body feels weak; my head is pounding. Beside me my alarm clock is ringing. I want it to stop! I have the ability to make it end but instead i clench my eyes shut and try to block out the noise. It doesn't work. So i jump out of my bed and violently pull the alarm out by it's plug. I turn to face my empty bed and try to remember the last time i woke up to a warm body next to me. Thinking of my failed marriage only worsens my mood.

I step out into the hallway and make my way towards the washroom. Once I'm inside I glance out the window. It's still dark outside; it must be pretty early. I strip down until I'm nothing but skin and flesh. Instead of stepping into the shower, I turn to face myself in the full length mirror. My ankles are too thin, my calves need more definition, my knees are too knobby, my thighs rub against each other, my stomach is marked by motherhood, my breast sag and my posture is horrible. I'm disgusted with myself. Lost hopes and dreams thrown away is what i see when i stare into my dull, bloodshot eyes.

I spit onto the mirror and onto the face of my enemy. She looks as angry as i feel; but when she laughs, i laugh. "What's so funny?" I hiss at my reflection. Seconds of silence go by as i await an answer and when i receive none I take a step closer to the mirror. I remember a time when I was desirable. I trace the lips on the mirror with my finger, then place my lips on the spot where my fingers had just lingered. It feels cold; I wonder if this is what my husband felt when he would kiss me. Is that why he's so disconnected? I stare down my reflection while pondering this thought,and continue to focus my attention on the lips. They smile; the creature in the mirror is smiling as if mocking my failures and troubles. "Why smile when your life is in shambles?" Once again i receive no answer.

I close my eyes, wanting this image of my failure to disappear. But as soon as my eyelids are open, I'm once again confronted with myself. I HATE MYSELF! without even realizing it I throw my body towards the mirror and start swinging my arms. Hysterically I scream and I cry. Sharp incisions cause me pain, as warm liquid is released from inside me. I look down upon my fat self and see red, blood red, I look into my reflection to confirm my sight. My inside have taken over my body.

Today was supposed to be just another day; but maybe it's supposed to be the last day? I'm weak and my head is pounding. I visualize my success; I'm nearly complete. The mortality has spread and now I'm left for dead.

Overcoming the Deceit

If I can't trust you...
If I can't believe in what you stand for,
If i can't comprehend the meaning behind your words...
You CANNOT, WILL NOT be a part of my life.

My existence is based on the truth,
With the exception of that period i called my youth.
I'm over your delusional games.
I refuse to have my name tangled in your web of lies.
I'd rather crawl into a ditch and wait for my demise.
Confrontation is useless when it involves the people you despise.

YOU FUCKING SUCK!
HOW DARE YOU USE ME?

A womans intuition never lies.

Those that i love, I never disown.
But you've lost your place.
You no longer belong.
My gates are closed to you.

Impenetrable my impressions will be.
They'll depend solely on me.
Based on my instincts.
None of which you'll be able to deceive.

Fuck your existence...
It will never again affect my being me.
When it comes to you and what you believe.
My thoughts will over-power yours...
And i will succeed!