Joanna, 19 april 2012
I want to be remembered
Long after I’m gone
Not as a student
A philosopher, or a writer…
I want to be understood
Long after I’m gone
Not as a child,
A woman, or a soldier…
I want to be loved
Long after I’m gone
Not as a daughter,
A sister, or a mother…
I want to be an artist of words
A person operating under the guise
Of insanity
And loved simply for having existed
If I cannot have any of this
Then I will give it
All to you
Every memory I possess
Every moment of comprehension
Every lover ever known
Will be in honor of you
For you never saw
What I became
You never became
What you saw in yourself
I will do all this for you
Until
My heart dies.
Joanna, 16 april 2012
Flowers on the wall
Watching the days pass us by
Waiting to grow tall
Joanna, 16 april 2012
Words
Caged up in my
Brain
As birds in a too small
Box
As a body in a
Coffin
A small child in a
Closet
Will go stir -
Crazy
As well, the words will
Go
Make me
Crazy
Rattle my
Mind
Make me inco-
Herent
Addle my mind with
Words
And I shall addle the
World
With thoughts and
Fireworks
Will fill the sky
As
Planes come tumbling
Down
Crashing waves
Upon
The plains
Words
On paper crash-
Land
Joanna, 16 april 2012
You thought you could keep me here,
hold me back,
but you're wrong.
I’m gone,
I’m never coming back.
You couldn't stop me with a freight train.
You couldn't keep me from walking away.
You can't stop me now because
I’m gone.
I’m so far gone the doctors
gave up,
they let me loose,
they know the truth:
You're a liar and a cheater
and I’m never going back.
I’m going away
into the sunset
with my prince charming
on my horse.
Going to my house,
my place,
my life,
because you can't stop me.
I’m gone.
I’m so far gone
you'll never find me again.
I’m going, going
gone.
Joanna, 16 april 2012
my head
spins unevenly as the
world tilts and turns
topsy
turvy the circus is
here tonight as
Batman
flies low and
Spider-man weaves
baskets the Joker
dances in the ring
as Robin jumps through
rings of fire
as we all go down
down, down
and the flames
rise and the
lights blind us
we all flee beneath
the Sirens
calling us home
to death as the
skin puckers and
rips to be worn
as a second skin
a coat of arms
hangs
at the entrance
as we fall into
the pit of
despair
as the circus leaves
us on the ground
topsy - turvy
never right again
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