Raise the flag

I will hold my head high.

I refuse to allow you to see me cry.

The emotions will burn a hole through me before I allow another victory.

One swift tear is all it took to break me.

You stood idol and watched me shatter.

All I ever wanted was for you to hold me and wash away my fears.

Through tear drenched lashes I watched you take a step back.

Your face was drawn and your body held its regrets.

Let me have this for I am human.

I bleed bright crimson.

I curse the sailors tales too.

I shall pick myself up again the moment that I am through.

Tonight I do not have the energy to fight.

I raise my  white flag high—

Not because I’ve accepted defeat, but because even you deserve peace.

The broken

I lay here just for a little while—
The room has ceased to spin and my mind boggles yet again.
I’m trapped inside myself with my heart beating outside my chest.
These walls are caving in and my mind fluctuates between reality and fantasy.
I can’t shake the memories—
Each vision of my surrender is like a thousand tiny blades into my back.
The pleas for peace in my broken voice and the tears of joy when the war was over were spoken in nothing more than a mere whisper.
The emotions resurfaced as the life inside me faded in and out of consciousness.
The little flicker of hope barely in existence and yet it’s clung to so dearly.
A small tremble escapes me during the aftermath and I’m forced to look up.
There is no god here, no one up there above the clouds to watch over those who can’t defend themselves.
The reinforcements are here, freeing me from this cell where I’ve served nearly two life terms.
I may be free to leave, but the bracelet attached to my ankle tells me they will always know where I am.
What is freedom if it comes with limits?
Is anyone ever really free to live?

As I lay dying

The beauty within me drains slowly—
My eyes wide open, staring lifelessly as they try to revive me.
Pump after agonizing pump, electricity runs through my clogged veins.
The look on your face as you realize it’s too late…
If I could cry for you I would shed a thousand tears as I hold your hand in mine when we create our own pond of salted emotions.
My body is no longer mine, but a host that has been gone for some time.
Her lips have changed and her skin tightened like the drugs of a celebrity youth potion.
And I leave with this notion—
Sometimes death can be a beautiful thing
Sometimes the absence of beauty from life transcends all nonliving things into the works of artistic expression.
As the host wilts under the rays of fluorescent lights I have to say one last thing—
Do not fear death once you have passed on
It isn’t all that it once seemed.

Poker face

I sat in the window, overlooking the world.
Children’s laughter suddenly fills my ears.
The familiar sound of passersby trying to familiarize themselves with one another.
A knowing glance, possibly even a certain stance
It was enough to say hello.
It was enough to say goodbye.
My hands sprang forward as my face arched past the window.
Contend with this world and yet I’ve suddenly felt more fragile.
My thoughts of content linger in the air as a feeling deep inside me heated  my skin.
Is that jealousy?
Is that pain?
Why are my feelings of distraught suddenly on display?
Sweet emotions forevermore displayed on my face.
A hand at poker would be a loss.
A lie once told would never be forgotten.
I wear these emotions even if I say nothing.