Jaded. Fragmented. Fallen.
Always Rising.

Thursday, October 13, 2005
07:39 p.m.
she stands there.
in the morning. quiet. unnerved.
but falling apart.
they're out there- she couldn't care.
masters them. defeats stones.

she sits there.
in the night. quiet fragile. falling apart.
they're inside here- she can't hear.
is deafened. defeated. the rocks thrown at here shatter her.

look at her.
walk towads. you drive by her everyday.
glance but see thru her.
the choice she's made disappoing you
and you don't even know wat she's said.
you don't know why she's turned to walk this way.
to talk with such bitterness and no hope.
but you pass her by without a second thought
and as you climb thru the doors of a warm home,
with a family that doesn't remember your face-
you're here.
you made it. a roof over your head and a fancy car.
you are here.
and that makes it worth it. makes your memories fade.
you are here. this little arrow.
this lil soul standing at a front door.
in a front lawn that's manicured every week.
when you walk thru that door,
up to your room. beside that body that wears the circle proving her love.
your love. your life together. tell me-
do you sleep? do you care about wat got you here?
or do you remember?
remember those haunting nights all alone.
where fear and crying were the only ones to comfort you.
are you still taunted?
or have you defeated the night.
because. because the gurl out there.
she would like to know wat you do.
while passing her.
while forgetting you.
-alysia-

Thursday, October 13, 2005
06:55 p.m.
she tosses. turns. rolls over in bed.
can feel him next to her. under different colors.
under different life.
there's no connection. no need in her spirit to consume this fire.
she turns over again. no room.
hangs onto the edge of the bed.
there's no air. no room to breathe. no sleep will come to her tonight.
there's nothing more in her brain.
absence is supposed to make it better.
loneliness is supposed to tear you apart.
but she struggles.
struggles with companionship and all its neediness.
she hates herself with it. hates wat that mirror paints because that's not her.
she's not meant to be that lil trophy on your arm.
the princess you've dreamt of.
but she'll stay. she'll smile and wave. be the woman you need.
stand by you-
and bleed to death inside.
-alysia-

Thursday, October 13, 2005
06:45 p.m.
she walks up the stairs.
in a daze. the grayness falls around her.
she slowly-softly sees her image in the mirror.
continues walking. there's nothing there she wants anymore.
nothing more she can make sense of.
she sees her long dark hair. shiny. straight.
parted in the middle. falling nicely and curling under.
falls to the middle of her back.
she sees the white shirt.
the contrast to her olive skin.
the amber flower necklace catches the light.
her blue jeans fit just right.

she walks on by.

turns a corner. locks the door.
there's no more room tonight.
no more time to whisper good-bye.
no more memories of i love you's.
there's just her and she doesn't need the mirror to tell her more.
she knows herself.
knows that under her shirt there's a cut.
a deep red sore that itches to bleed once more.
there's a burn on her forearm that didn't even make her pull away.
and none of these physical scars can come close to wat she feels.
wat eats at her and tortures her soul.
there is no more.
sure, she can stand there.
smile. walk by. make you wish you had her in your life.
make you believe in love. and hope. and goodness.
she can bring you life.
but she can also bring you to your knees.
-alysia-

Thursday, October 13, 2005
06:40 p.m.
i want to paint.
i want to color upon myself.
hide those eyes.
hide the image.
the image that you've fallen in love with.
the words that you cherish.
hide within your heart to remember.
i want to take bright bold colors.
cover my skin. shelter the spirit.
i want out of this shell that you've fallen for.
that so many have fallen for.
i've never wanted any of it.

i want the beauty of colors. of pain. of rawness. of intensity.
not this image.
not society.
not your dream gurl.
a song stuck on repeat-
i can bat my eyelashes with my eyes closed
and still know your reaction.
i don't want this mirror.
i want pieces.
i want the truth.

so don't sit there missing me-
letting your heart skip a beat when you hear me.
you don't need me-
don't need this accessory.
because in time, you'll realize
that's all i'll be.
-alysia-

Thursday, October 13, 2005
06:35 p.m.
she looks in the mirror.
past all the drugs. the beer.
the mistakes she's made.
and she smiles.

she actually smiles.

not because that gurl is pretty.
not because she's been told that she's beautiful.
but because she's still here after all of her life.
she's still here,
despite that she's been told that she's pretty.
despite that she's been tortured by beautiul,
and all the loveliness of society. she's still here.

her mother always calls to tell her that she's beautiful.
her sisters, haunted by reputation.
her life has been painted of grace and brilliance,
and yet she doesn't feel any of it,
because in those eyes-

in those eyes it's a different story.
a different painting.
she can see all her lies. shame.
the memories that she can't belive she made.
she doesn't like this maks.
this idea.
and silently stares at the world wishing they could all see beyond the skin-
beyond the scars of beauty.
-alysia-