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Thunder

Tie my hands against the dawn of the new day
and count the strands of brown hair that falls across my face.
Watch my eyes flutter open and memorise that moment.
Kiss all the bruises from my ex lovers

and my past away,
Carve your deepest secrets in to my spine,
I will use them to stand up straight when everything else is falling

I will use my string of words to pick you up

when all your broken bits are thrown out.

Re-read her love letters

Throw away his.
Untie the knots in my stomach
and use it as a noose instead.
We were never made to last
We were built with sand and lost hope in our bones

We are indestructible

We are the thunder growing at the pit of our hungry bellies

We are the bolts of lightning in their center of our  throbbing chests

We are our own rainstorms.

 

Yours truly,

Painted Shadow

 

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I choose you.

Dear you,

I know it’s tempting and I know its exciting. I know it gives you goosebumps and I know it also makes you feel alive. But you can’t keep playing with fire and expect not to get burnt, every single time. You can’t keep cutting yourself and expect not to see blood, every single time and you can’t rip your heart out of it’s prison cell and toss it to the wind, hoping someone would bring it back. You’re not invincible. You’re not fire proof. You can’t keep doing this over and over again. At some point, you’re going to have to choose yourself.

Yours truly,

Painted Shadow

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I’m Spinning Around in Circles

Like a pendulum

I watched my sanity swing back and forth 

Hitting the four corners of these hypnotic white walls.

With each thud and each bang,

I heard it echo through the crevices and dark alleys of my mind

Passing whispers and taunts

Egging me to take one step closer to the dark.

I felt the last strings that held bits of me together, 

break off and snap, as easily as I pictured my own neck would

on the nights when I saw my 10-year-old self

holding a doll in the corner, humming a tune I was no longer familiar with.

I wish I could hold on and stay for a little while longer

I wish cradling the past didn’t become a habit

I wish you were there for me. 

Yours truly,

Painted Shadow

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Heartbreak Warfare

Despite what they tell you, despite what you’ve heard over and over; two broken halves don’t make a whole. Two broken halves never quite fit back the same way, even with the world’s best glue and tape. There will always be missing pieces, missing fragments that got swept under the sofa or lost between the floor boards. And my darling, we had lost so many pieces, growing up. We had lost so many fragments and pieces of ourselves in corners and clenched fists around world, that our two halves, never quite made a whole.

There’s this thing about loneliness. Once you get used to it, once you get good at it, it’s hard to go back from that. And for that, I am sorry. I could never be your whole, despite you desperately wishing that I was. Despite you desperately wishing that I could be.

You see, despite the lost pieces, I had made a whole by myself – gathering up pieces I thought I needed along the way. Gathering up pieces I didn’t think I needed, desperately trying to fix my own puzzle. When you came along, I thought maybe you were a missing piece, but you were your own puzzle. My darling, you were your own puzzle, desperately trying to find your missing pieces. And it killed you, that I wasn’t one of them.

 

Yours truly,

Painted Shadow

 

 

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T for Trouble

Your name rolled off my tongue
smoother than a bottle of 35 merlot
You were all smiles and charm,
Smart words and longing looks.
Your arms; all built and mesmerizing
Vowed to hold me up like a tower
That was never meant to stand on its own
Like a tower that could easily collapse.
Your glazed glistening eyes
Would torment my moving lips
That desperately tried to form words in to clever sentences,
But ended up being strings of broken cobwebs in the wind
And stronger than the force of that wind,
I was blown over when our hands touched for the briefest moment.
I was the teenager with a rebellious streak
And you were trouble with a capital T
Holding a board with my name.  In bold. Underlined twice.

Yours truly,

Painted Shadow

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Little Things

I notice little things
a little too much,

I notice the smallest things about a person
a little too often

Like the birthmark at the corner of her neck
isolated and perfect,
my empty hand already writing stories about it.

I notice the jagged lines and dents on his forearm
creating valleys that I wanted to get lost in,
as he stirred his black coffee.
I memorized their rhythm
and just like a snake;
I was fixed in a trance watching his movements.

I notice things like
your off shaped tooth
or the funny scratch on your eye brow

I notice when your eyes twinkle
and when they go dim

I try not to on some days though.
But most days, I enjoy noticing things
Little things.

Yours truly,

Painted Shadow

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Come Pick Me Up.

One night I will wake up just before the clock strikes 3 am

I will roll over and pull my blanket around me;

As I roll over I will find the warm wall your body built

between me and the edge of the bed.

One day when I wake up at 3 am,

I won’t have my thoughts keeping me awake

instead the drumming of your heart

will sing me a sweet lullaby

until I drift back to sleep.

One day when I wake up at 3 am,

it won’t be because the monsters under my bed

are talking loudly, but instead,

it might be because your snoring in my ear stirred me awake

or you pulled the blanket all the way to your side

or just because.

One day when I wake up at 3 am,

I won’t be searching for my phone to text you about the dream I just had

instead, I’ll wake you, or try to at least, and tell you about it.

One day.

One can hope, that One day.

 

Yours truly,

Painted Shadow