You don't know me. I am a Cortau. I have no name, what do I need one for? We are all one. We think as one, we act as one. All that ever mattered to us is the Cortean- the collective body of which I am just a small insignificant part; the only part. I am all that is left, you see. Once, we numbered by the thousands, but no more. The Melocnai had brought total destruction to us all. Though I live on, I will eventually die as well. The unborn one I carry within me will have never known what it is like to not be alone. However he will feel, I am sure, the hollow void within. There will be no continuity of the Cortean. The line will die with my Co
When I die, I hope they lay me naked in my casket,
And I hope my body is covered in scars.
I hope the mourners aren't afraid;
I hope they trace each one with their fingertips,
And wonder how long each wound took to heal.
Will they take hold of my hands? I hope they do.
I hope they whisper to each other about how rough they feel,
Saying things like, "I had no idea he worked so hard."
I hope they realize my hands were only half as rough as I had it.
I hope my family makes fun of my feet,
Joking that they were the flattest they'd ever seen,
Saying to each other, "He never could run away from anything "
" not very fast at l
I look in that mirror
A stranger looks back
She looks shocked
She's just a body
She's just a cage
A vessel for this soul
Something to carry me
Force me through life
The world isn't big on choice
I look at her again
She's angrier now
"Screw you" I whisper
This mirror won't tell me who I am
Only what the world can see
Only a physical identity
Surely you know, dear, that words sometimes fail me; that
there are days when all my thoughts are mathematics, wordless
and unsentimental, and I ponder the minor miracle that allows
for angles to stand in for time. And I just wanted to say that I think
there is a poem hidden in this; a poem about the fact that
every time you move your hands to frame your words, every
night you sit at your window with your face lifted towards the
stars, every morning you rise and stretch feline and languid,
somehow you are guiding my mind along the sinuous paths
of sines and negative cosines, and make me dream numbers,
wild trajectories and simple ve
Everything you need to know
About me,
You can see it,
In my eyes,
Watch them closely
Everything you want to read
About me
You can watch
In my eyes
They're better then a biography
Everything you need to know
About me
Just look into my eyes
They will tell you everything.
My eyes show the
Things I try to cover up
Sadness or
Laughter or
Pain or
Love
Everything my face seems to hide
My eyes
Tell the truth
Behind my voice's lies
My eyes also wear
The same emotion
That my face does
Only stronger,
More intense
Everything you could ever want
From me
Is in
My eyes,
You just have to know how to look
there was a little girl who didn't know the difference
between pain and pleasure and some days she
dreamed the darkness was fading away, and light was
all that was left, but the light shriveled her skin and
melted her eyes, and all that was left was nothing.
she sat by herself at playtime and drew pictures in
the dust with her fingers, and when the other kids
asked her to play she cried.
there was a girl who carried a notebook pinned under
her arm all the time, and when she saw something
beautiful she captured it with words on the stained
pages. when the bad times came, she took out the
notebook and wept until her tears washed th
I walk to the edge and smile
Nothing better than feeling yourself slip
That edge gets closer and closer
I laugh as I feel the world tip
The rush lingers after it happens
So much time to take it in
Like losing wouldn't matter
Because all you can do is win
Slowly the smile fades
But now im content
Nothing will go wrong
Since this angel has been sent
Im broken from the crowd
And its better this way
The darkness has been lifted
To the fire of a new day
The crash of thunders in the distance
Drawing me to the rush I remember
I race toward it faster than possible
Refusing to ever put out that ember
Identity,
Who you are,
The name you're given,
Your eyes,
Mouth,
Nose,
It's your personality,
Who you are to the world,
What you see when you look in the mirror,
The reflection that's looking back at you,
The purpose you hold,
When people look at you what do they see?
All the things that make you who you are,
The things you carry with you,
The emotion hidden behind your eyes,
Words that your mouth doesn't say,
That special quality that makes you unique,
The little thing that makes you shine,
Brighter than all the other stars in the sky,
So who are you?
What's your identity?
We two, standing in the wind
Hands together, as if attempting a bow,
Staring at each other through the distance.
Disheveled hair, brown, black, blond, red...
Does it matter what we look like?
Fair eyes staring at each other,
Though the distance is like a gaping crater.
There would always be a way around,
Yet the journey will be long.
Still, seeing each other is nice,
Learning our identities
Through a wide chasm called 'Forbidden'.
If I were ugly with warts and pimples,
Would you still journey around the crater
Just to see me?
If my clothes were torn and ragged, a sign of poverty,
Would you willingly help this soul?
But all yo