Pandora's Poetry Gallery

Making the Cut

Scars.
Finding they never disappear.
Always there reminding difficult times.
When I couldn't take it.
Remembering cigarette burns,
Fingers searching depths of these blemishes.
Railroad tracks faintly
Riding my arm.
Reminding me of deadly razors,
neat, deep cuts made.
Crimson blood running in rivets.
Pain.
Memories engulfing me.
Constantly reminded
every time I take a shower,
shave my legs,
rest my head on marred arms.
People see me as unruly.
Not someone who's suffered,
waded her way through losing everything.
Regaining it only to find
things will never be the same
.

The Man

Him,
my love
my other half,
a completion of me
Filling the void which leaves me bare
Without that purpose to keep on
Smiling at me in the fading light
Holding me
Surrounded by that comfort
of a blazing fire in winter
Marble skin flawless
gently sliding his hand into my grasp
Harm won't come to me
not while he's here
The strong wall that keeps
out the wicked
who mean to prey on my soul
I'm forever loving him
as he eternally loves me
The two of us can do anything
face anything
Together forever
Combining our lost souls

Misunderstood

Standing in a room,
screaming,
and no one looks up.

On the cliff edge,
ready to jump,
and no one stops you.

In a conversation,
giving your opinion,
and they tell you you're wrong.

Being who you are,
a rebelling teenager,
in the eyes of others.

But you're not just a rebel,
but an individual person,
who knows what hurts.

And though others don't understand,
why you're you and not someone else,
you're still that rebel teen
who's misunderstood.

Lonely

Always alone,
in a world of your own.
Bleak,
without warmth.
'Cause there's no one.
No one to love,
no one who loves me.
And it's hard dealing
in this desolate place,
where things look so gray,
and the future is dim,
and getting dimmer.
Lonely,
without others,
not caring,
but needing,
and not receiving.
You're alone

My Guy
Part I

My guy,
He was always mine
through our childhood
when we played in the rain,
and laughed in the sunlight,
as the years passed us by,
as we slowly grew apart
and also more together.
We both loved black,
and leather,
and late night phone calls.
Playing truth or dare
until be get bored;
then giggling
at the nonsense words we make up.
And we both know,
they are only ours.
Keeping each others' secrets,
saying our friendship
could only last forever.
But everything changed
when I hit high school.
He said I wouldn't have time
to talk the nights away,
and that I would make new friends,
who would seem more important
than he ever was to me.
And no matter how much I argue,
he was right.

My Guy
Part II

I promised not to change
and never to forget him,
my best friend.
But change is inevitable
unless from a vending machine,
but even then it's not so.
So things change,
I changed
and he didn't,
not at all.
He remained faithful to me,
true to the end.
And I thought I'd changed
until that one day
while busy with homework.
The phone rings and after picking up,
my best friend is there for me.
Anxious to talk
to hear my voice,
to hear my laugh,
to love his best friend.
And he stutters out,
"Thank God you didn't change,
I couldn't bear that."
And I realize it's true
that although things are different,
I'm still the same person.
The same wild-free girl,
who never followed the rules
and constantly defied all.
The one who
loves leather,
wears black
and gothic art,
pierces her tongue.
Dances the nights and days away.
Hangs with her bud-
her best friend of all time.
Whose friendship
could only last forever,
and who still has him,
and he still has me
as his best friend.
And yet I know,
he'll always be mine,
my best friend,
my guy.

Blinded

Living.
Everyone in a world
of their own.
Not caring
if their choices hurt anyone else.
Snubbing
who they want.
Befriending
who they like.
Not caring about others.
About how they feel,
or what they want,
and that makes them
alone.

Dreamland

Ash to ash,
fire to flame.
This is my life,
you haven't a claim.

Dust from the earth,
fire from my blood.
Mess with my problems,
find your face in the mud.

Believe what you like,
do what you may.
But when fate confronts you,
don't point my way.

You think you might know,
you say that you're right.
But when problems hit you,
you won't see light.

Goddess

Slender figure
shadowing the doorway,
some turning a glance.
But I can't tear my gaze away,
not from that sensual frame.
My eyes sweeping her body.
Leather boots encase baby feet,
pants dipping to cover them,
narrowing to hug tiny hips,
a second skin.
Ivory marble skin,
so perfect and unreal.
Silver studding her navel.
Crimson tube top,
allowing every curve to show.
Her velvet cloak
slipping delicately off creamy shoulders.
Midnight cascades of hair
rippling down to gently sweep her waist.
As she passes me by
her fragrance surrounds me,
silk hair brushing my skin.
How does she do it?
How does she move just right,
say the right things,
wear the right clothes
to capture my eye
and spark the imagination?
Only a goddess could.
Only a temptress would.
Yet she is neither
and both at once.
Her dark looks enticing me.
Pulling me in
yet warning me away.
Only she could confuse me,
only she would tempt me,
only she would refuse me.
But alas,
she's a mystery
that none have figured out.

Just One More

One more hit off that cigarette,
that's all I'm going to do.
One more swig off that bottle,
after that I'm through.

One more little white line,
leaving it to the rest.
One more toke off a joint,
putting me to a test.

One more shot of heroin,
pumping through my veins.
One more trip on acid,
releasing me from pain.

One more cut upon my wrist,
and I'll not make another day.
One more current of running blood,
and I'm drifting far away.

One more person caring,
brushing my fears away.
One more shred of hope,
helping me through the day.

Why

Why do you deny me?
When you want me just the same.
Why do you push me away?
Playing this silly game.
Why do I go on chasing you?
When you'll never be all mine.
Why do you let me do this?
Never giving me a sign.
How will my world keep turning?
Knowing you're not there.
How will I live another day?
Thinking you never cared.

Untitled

Stray without a cause.
Do without a care.
Hurt without sorrow.
No one being there.
Burn your hand with fire.
Cut with razor's edge.
Feel the pain you're making.
Let yourself regret.
The burns and cuts scarring.
You wishing them away.
And maybe now you'll see it.
The truths you push away.

Untitled

My weekly visit.
Into a building
with clean walls and smiling receptionists.
To my usual room
with a couch and chair.
There to spill out my latest blames,
the wrongs I've done,
pains I've committed.
These scars deeper than physical.
So deep
I can stick my hand
in my pain.
Pull out the infection
and see what splits me.
Analyze it.
Ascertain its roots.
Then discuss it
to no avail at all.
Until all that's left
is my pain
and no one to listen.
Just nod their heads,
pretend they care,
gather their check
and bid me leave.

Untitled

Pain,
dissipating into the soft summer air.
Sun blazing down on wind-whipped hair.
Raven hair cascading over tawny shoulders.
Slender figure standing frozen,
contemplating.
Racing over trampled weeds,
feeling soft grasses under bared feet.
Flying past identical fields,
striving to reach destination unknown.
Stopping.
Rise and fall of aching lungs,
throbbing calves from strain.
Muddled mind
warped from confusion.
A wooden bench disfigured by time.
A body aged by passing seasons.
Spring to summer,
summer to fall,
fall to winter,
winter to spring.
An endless cycle.