WW3

How do you stop the words from spilling out?
Sew your lips shut.

Lucky you,
you're witnessing World War Three.

But it doesn't bode well,
when both sides are me.

Escape.

Actions reverberate for so much longer than you would think possible.
Sure each chapter is separate from the one before, the one after it.
Change is the only constant.
But the chapters make up a story,
and my beginning is undoubtedly affecting my end.

How long does the past reflect back for?
I'm tired of having to blame my actions on mistakes I or someone else made in the autumn of my life.

And just how the tree that was cut down in anger in winter,
lacking leaves and therefore believed useless,
is missed in summer...

I'm missing.

Regurgitate.

I have things to write
But I don't know what to say.
Straight from my mind and onto this page.

I have things in my heart that I'm trying to suffocate.
I'm slipping back into my old ways.

Everything is temporary.

Reassure yourself.

Everything is temporary.

Melting.

I may not remember every individual diamond encrusted, glittering sweet of a word you whisper to me
late at night,
But I can feel the shimmery haze of them
all lined up,
pressed together.

Each one squirming to be heard over the promises of the others.
How could the cold ever get a word in edge wise?
There's nowhere for it to go.

Your words drape over me,
I can feel them.
Your warmth is melting me,
turning me over on your tongue.

Don't spit me back out.

Insatiable.

There are words I can't push out,
although I can taste them on my tongue.

I miss you
I want you

Don't leave me alone.

The words are foul tasting and leave a bitter streak as I swallow them back down.

Insatiable.

Excess.

Theres something new pumping through my veins. Something so far from the vains of old.
Vanity brought me nowhere, but to the mirror time and time again.

''You are so beautiful.''
It was what every little girl had fought tooth and nail and claw to hear.
Sobbing into the pillow, 'tell me again, tell me again.''

But anything in excess is bad. And she found herself in front of the mirror time and time again.
Head unbowing, eyes unblinking
''You are so beautiful.''

She had so much more
but reflected in the mirror and all that she had been told,

she had nothing else.

Wake Up.

Like a star she had wished on, she kept her eyes on it, leaning every so slightly forward, reaching ever so slightly upward, never letting it out of her sight.

''Dreams are for beggars.''

''So what do I do?''

''Wake up and make it true.''