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Lotus Rose, author of The Poniworld Chronicles and Malice in Wonderland Saga

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i've issues i tell you (they say I look like johnny depp)

Hello, my name is Lotus. I'm a bit of a bore.
Walking ahead of you, I'd open the door.
I wouldn't insult you, or stab you, or worse,
Nor hiss like a serpent, nor would I curse.

I've issues, I tell you. I've issues for sure!
My greatest disgrace, is that my motives are pure!
I try to be "dangerous," a badboi, a whore!
But I still must admit, I'm a bit of a bore.

I've issues, I tell you. Mental issues, no doubt.
As I'm sitting here typing, I'm wearing a pout.
I'm thinking of Johnny--that great Johnny Depp.
I wanna be like Johnny, and not just some schlep!

They say I look just like him, been saying that forever.
So I remembered that one movie: "The Pirates of the, uh, whatever."
I smeared on the eyeliner, just like my favorite star.
I slipped on a cheap old eyepatch, and screamed right out loud, "ARRRRRRR!!!!"

So I look kinda cool, but poserly is how I feel.
Cuz both my eyes are working, so it's not really real.
But wait, I'll scoop out my eye with the sherbet scoop over there!
Please, just wait a moment. Stay there. Don't go nowhere!

Okay, so I just did it! I scooped out my left eye!
It's bleeding quite profusely. I think I just might die!
But I'm feeling pretty good. Not like a poser piece of shit.
And I'm gonna look up pictures, so I can bask in it.

(The feeling, that is.) So I'm typing "pirates," "Keira," and of course, "Johnny Depp."
Wait. What the hell!??? Mother fuck! Look at Johnny Depp!
He doesn't wear an eyepatch in this film. Hey! I AM a schlep!

Damn it! Poem over!
I've got to get to the emergency room!
I have issues, I tell you! Issues from hell!
I scooped out my eye and I don't feel that well.

love and chains are both the same
a binding hold entwined with pain
burning like a flame
seed of lust and shame
writhing in your name
love and chains, the same.

i don't understand.

to you, girl
who i never saw smile
whose voice i never heard
who walked with head held so high

i bid you farewell.

like so many i've never met,
like those i've talked to, but never seen inside,
like those i've loved, but never truly known. . . .

maybe it all ends up the same,
never knowing

for a moment, we held each other's eyes,
and it meant so much to me.
a memory forever.
a true forever.
not like
empty promises
of false forevers.

so maybe it's better we never met.

because it all ends up the same.
and i wonder if i could have held you.
and i wonder if i could have loved you.
but it all ends up the same
and we have to say our goodbyes.

my sweet nameless girl who walked with head held high.
i can see your eyes.

goodbye, dear.
i miss you.

always, things unsaid.

fingers reaching, reaching.
fingertips sliding, touch on touch, mingling, but never holding.
painful caresses.
you destroy what you seek.
the fingers slip away,
fingertips slit and torn.

what i am is a jarred butterfly.
with new-grown wings.
because of you.

if you would just set me free.
if you could just let me out,

i would dance on the air for you.
and come to rest on your hand.
and linger.
i would walk up and down your long-limbed fingertips,
your hand would be my home.
and i would flutter to your lips,
dancing on your breath,
and kiss you the best i can.

but for now i look out through my cage of glass.
with new-grown wings.
and i cannot dance.

i splattered myself
opened myself up and spilled myself
but the insides are ugly
they tiptoed over them

i want to dissolve into you.
i want to think as you think.
i want to feel as you feel.
i want to destroy myself in you.
i want you to destroy me.

but i am disturbingly intact.

tick tick tick tick tick

there is only a set amount of emotion. a set amount for each soul created. there are the many, and then there are the few.
these are the emotion hoarders.
they capture more than their share, suck from the wiggling infant forms of the newborn.
these are the enemy. the emotion must be relinquished.
kill these people if you can.

the end, before the beginning.