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adolescent scars,

although not visible,

give the greatest pain imaginable.

in my bloodied, war driven brain

i bleed diamonds,

ones sharp enough to cut to the center of the earth.

to the core of my being.

this brightness is overwhelming,

how many times can you look into the sun

before losing sight of what’s ahead of you,

and how many times can you look behind

before someone is there?

let me put it this way:

i don’t deserve life

when so many others need it more.

let me suffer.

-junejulyaugust

hypomanic episode (tw self harm mentions)

hypomanic paranoia

strands me out at space,

unable to distinguish between fantasy and reality

yet i can tell where each lays

as i realize i am an acosmist

writing poems with lightning bolts in my eyes.

so many empty promises

that only i can see

as the galaxy in my head

spins with the earth itself

and the gluttony and hunger medium

becomes nonexistent with

everything else as

i prepare for war with

my emotions

only for my nebuleic veins

to wrap around the

galaxy and

for me to cut them,

to force my heart to stop.

i regret it already.

-junejulyaugust

cathedral of echos

a perfect body

sculpted from pomegranate seeds and raw meat,

honeycomb brains swarming with bees

for i am the queen of alexithymia

and you are the Aphrodite of the sea foam.

we stand inside grand cathedrals

longing for a home that was never ours

while statues in the louvre watch the world turn,

we, weightless,

and our destination unknown;

aware of the smallness of our perspective

but only caring about the eloquence

of the milky blue sky we surround ourselves with,

and the melody of our voices.

and once it is all over,

i know…

-junejulyaugust

white marble

my existence is cruiātus,

a soundtrack of feeling lost

and watching the downfall of my future.

while wildfires tear down everything i love,

ebony ashes rain down

sprinkling my face with dark freckles.

nobody notices my charred hands

or the smoke in my brain;

only my futile remains

and the butterflies that dance above my bones.

it’s hard to think of tomorrow’s happenings

when tonight feels like the last judgement.

midnight regulations

fill their hearts with tiny hummingbirds

after my cruentus body is found on the marble floor

covered in daisy chains made of gold,

and the blood of the emotionless.

but in the end,

i have finally found my home.

-junejulyaugust

for nights alone

The rain tells me a million stories.

I see a poor boy helping his dad out with the leaky roof of the house. I see the leaves dazzling with happiness today. I see random people congregated together under a common roof, talking and exchanging smiles with each other over chai and sutta. I see my car slashing through the waters and making me feel mighty for a minute. I see the common people helping out a man who's bike is stuck in the rain. I see the children dancing with their clothes off in the rain because they just don't care.

I look out my window and see a man walking right beside us when our car accidentally drenches him and instead of getting mad, he waves and smiles at me and says "CARRY ON, IT'S ONLY THE RAINS."

Yes, rains are icky and muddy and a bit annoying at times.

But it always tells a million stories.

The rain tells me a million stories.

glittery pink lip gloss

times when I thought I was pretty

when strangers would ask to take a picture

when mom said I was special to her

worthy of her attention

tight curls and pouty lips

with big eyes hiding big lies

pulling sleeves down

I started to frown

when my reflection started to distort my image

I got a hold of a pin

that started a war of addiction in my head

I'm older now not that much older

I've lost some pounds

and now that there is less of me

their love started to multiply again

I feel stared at again

I feel heard again

it feels powerful yet painful

why?

why do they love me more when I'm smaller

than if I'm bigger

they still don't love me enough although it's more

than it ever was when I was bigger

now I can't ever go back

my life will be taken by my own hands

if I ever dare to go back

I won't let myself

I wont

but what if.

i push myself away from you as if i am a burden, but what if i really am?

you look at me as if it’s the last time, but what if it really is?

we hold on to these memories as if they’ll slip away, but what if they really do?

you act as if you’re torn between your heart and head, but what if you really are?

and we can fall apart, turn into nothing from something, but what if-

but what if we already did?

Non Believer

You are no messenger of god. I don’t believe in the words that you say, Or the existence of your source, So take your fake proclamations away.

I have no donkey to speak to me, Nor one willing to carry my load. There is just me on this broken path, And I’m fairly sure I took the wrong road.

Do not speak as though eons of knowledge Flow steadily, dripping from your tongue. There is no guidance from your good book Showing how this battle can be won.

© M K Lee

And, sometimes, all we need is a trustworthy shoulder to lean on.

@scribblersobia

You are blessed. If today you saw the morning sun, laughed a little, and ate healthy food. We have so much to feel grateful for, our home, family, friends, and all those tiny moments that we have shared with our loved ones. Life is unpredictable and, I know you have heard this so many times but, you realize this when you see someone going through pain. I wish the best for everyone. Life is short. LOVE and RESPECT people around you.

@scribblersobia

I am a woman and, I don't belong to "YOU.'' I don't need anyone to define my existence. I am God's creation and, my soul is eternal. 

❤ SELF LOVE❤

@scribblersobia

Brownies

A shoreline covered with a skin of rock resembling the surface of brownies. If I trip and fall, will my pale skin be mistaken for custard, or cream, and served up as a delicacy? If I slip and stumble, landing in rockpools up to my knees, Will I be mistaken for bramble jelly or strawberry jam, and served up on scones for afternoon tea?

© M K Lee

What is

Regret?

Is it something that we’ve done

That we wish we could forget?

Or is it what we’ve broken

But we don’t know it yet?

I think it might be something

That we can’t yet accept,

Because we don’t want to acknowledge

That we’ve had something that we’d wrecked.

But the feeling of regret,

The power that it has

To leave us in distress,

Left unchecked will destroy

Everything that you have left.

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quiescent,

L’appel du vide.

the souls of the deceased self,

dressed as Mediterranean winds,

bring empty promises in message bottles.

the journey i choose

brings a pyrrhic victory

as i wake up from dreams that never existed

to nightmares just beginning.

how i wish i could be different,

eumoirous,

for a beautiful wildflower that deserves every breath of fresh air

dies when winter arrives.

and so,

my illunis being takes its final exhale.

bonum nocte.

-junejulyaugust

l' esprit de escalier

the fantasy depths i spiral down into.

the drapetomania lain deep in the lining of my stomach.

i spend my life rotting, living in a purgatory

in between a haven i desperately want

and the life i dread to accept.

and when i finally become the earth itself,

will i be happy?

-junejulyaugust

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i come from nothing, and everything at once,

growing into a stellato

who dances among the opal galaxy in my head.

i belong to the stars,

my entire being stellimicans,

and as apotelesma decides my fate

i know i will never understand

the flaxen eyes of the Vitruvian Man

and why rhodochrosite petals bloom,

blossoming around everyone but me.

for the creation of adam is ephemeral,

now is time for the creation of Me.

-junejulyaugust

"The moon drips from the sky at night, only to fall gracefully into your eyes where my warm heart is surrounded by stars in the distance of far.. far beyond mars where the quasars ripple with your dimples and little by little I fall in love with you, until the night recedes and the sky once again turns blue."

Poetry drips from your lips upon my skin, that is where true love begins - eUë

shades of blue

kalopsia

and breakfast at noon.

the only piece of the puzzle that is reality

i want to hold on to.

he’s the pale blue sky after rain

and the window to bliss,

selcouth in a world of drab.

and then,

i know what airplane mode truly is;

obsession.

-junejulyaugust