Friday, March 11, 2011

At the Stroke of Midnight

I thought I was used to it
The words full of scorn
I thought I'd become immune to
The knife-like accusations
The tears started congregating
Filling up my eyes
I blinked to show them
I control them
Not the other way around

I swore to myself when the pain kicked in
That they were just jocks
Idiotic, immature, sophomoric
But after a while
My shield, made of lies,
Withered into nothing

My masquerade ball I've been at for years
Has ended
My beautiful mask of happiness and social ease
Has disintegrated
Like Cinderella's night of freedom
Reality's bell has rung, announcing midnight

I'm back to being Brenda                                                   angry
Who can't sing                                                                    tears
Can't run                                                                      stumbling
Can't play music                                                          screeching
Can't go even one day without                                         needing
A cigarette                                                                      isolation
Can't go a week without                                                    getting
High                                                                                 broken
Drunk                                                                                    into
Can't go a month without cutting, without bloodshed           pieces

Instead of being Brenna
Fearless                                                                      Captivating
Funny                                                                         Mysterious
Tough                                                                     Unpredictable
Talented                                                                       Significant
Flirtatious                                                                             Bold

Brie-                                                                              Creative
Rebellious                                                                     Charming
Outspoken                                                                          Witty
Intelligent                                                                             Deep
Beautiful                                                                             Poetic
Everything                               I've                                        Ever
                        Wanted                                 To
                                               Be

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

The Reflection In The Mirror

I have this deep, dark secret that I never share
It haunts me every day whenever I see a mirror
The person in the glass reflects the monster in my head
I fear going to sleep at night, all alone in my bed
I can't let that monster out of her iron cage
Because once she escapes, she'll go on a rampage
Finding vengeance for her past, present, mind
Never ceasing her destruction until she's satisfied
Her strength grows steadily, never decreasing
Her hatred, aimed at me, is increasing
She hates me for tying her up, locking her down
As hard as I try, I can't keep her underground
She's exposed my true colors a few times today
I regret all the things I have and will say
I don't want her to be free to ruin my life
But I'm growing too weak to resist the knife
The urge to cut is just to great
To continue trying to escape
The girl in the sink, staring into my eyes
Knows all she has to do is get me to die
The chains will fall off, the iron bars will melt
All because I'm that unsure of myself
I can't trust my wits anymore
Nor can I lock her prison room's door
I fear the reflection looking at me
I can't avert my eyes because then she'll see
The type of person I've turned into
She'll know immediately her dream's come true
I can't let that happen, don't you see?
If I let her out, she'll destroy both you and me

Monday, March 7, 2011

Untitled-----I would seriously love some suggestions! :)

Alright, so my foster sister had some male relative issues prior to living at Gramma's. I always write stuff for her, because honestly, I feel for her. We've grown so close over the last two years, and I've been given an insight to what it's like going through some of the stuff she went through. So I wrote this one night after a discussion Lida, Paige, and I had about why we're in foster care. It's not supposed to offend anyone, but it is how I would picture my reaction to growing up like that.



I can see you in the black tonight. I saw your silhouette before the storm even started. The air is stale and dry with your fear. You try to get moisture in your mouth, but your tongue is like the sand in a desert, scorched dry by the sun.
The lightning strikes the sky, setting the mood for my next move. The wind opens the curtains, and they reach towards you, trying to entangle you. When the streak in the sky lights up the side of my face, you suddenly see your fate. You know exactly why I'm here. You scurry to the corner, looking for protection. But you can't stop me now.
As I walk slowly towards you, taking my time just for the hell of it, your hands go up quickly to hide your face. You murmur to yourself that this is just a dream, just a dream. Funny thing is, it's not. It's not even a nightmare.
As I creep closer, I tell you a story. You know the story already, but I changed it a little. Tweaked it.
"Once upon a time, there was a little princess. She was about four, maybe five. After her daddy died, her mommy married a mean man. This bad man used to do bad things to the princess, things her mommy knew nothing about."
One glance at your face and I know you can see how the story will end.
"The bad man used to tell the princess that they were playing a game. 'Only a few more minutes,' he would say. But the game never lasted just a few minutes. It lasted thirty.
"The princess never told her mommy about the man's game because he told her he would hurt her mommy. The little princess loved her mommy and didn't want to hurt her.
"But when the princess grew up, she hated her mommy and the man because she felt dirty every time the man made her play his game. She swore she would get revenge on the mean man for hurting her family."
The adrenaline starts pumping through my blood, giving me a high feeling. Grinning evilly, I stare at you, my head tilted and my eyes laughing at your terrified expression.
"Only a few more minutes..."
You scream.