Robbing Air

I don’t want to live this life anymore,
but you are pinks and deep hues,
the tangerine clouds behind sunsets
that giggle and puff themselves
into the shape of my mother,
when she slouched proudly
against the cupboards that robbed my air.
You are the pink of her that opened
the doors on their mothers
getting busy with our uncles,
and the red screeching from a pillowcase
bursting with the Siamese kittens they drowned.
You are deep hues and an ugly reminder
of small towns and smaller minds,
stroked once and cut twice
from a life, we are all running from.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

Under Your Bed

I have loved as I have never been loved,
and in loving as I have never been,
I have held the hands of gods
and laid weeping before the closed fists
of disappointment dripping with my own blood
and barely skimming forgiveness.
Perhaps it will come to me,
this love, a love, beneath your bed,
behind the curtains or under you mother
and her Sunday night dinner,
the one I was invited to
before the devil tickled my back
and your angels scorched my belly.
I wear these marks well,
my kisses from heaven
and my brushes with hell,
yet here I am on my knees again,
looking for the love you dropped under your bed.
I know it’s here somewhere,
amongst the monsters and the memories,
making friends with the lonely socks
missing their mates, and reaching
inside the crumpled wrappers,
the pink ones that burst the stars
upon your tongue before he broke the door down
and taught you all the ways you should never love.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

I Told Him No

He told me how brave I was,
writing my story into a sea of stigma,
how my words, my voice,
would break waves and save souls,
a lighthouse for the mentally ill,
the distraught, the unloved.

I told him no.

He told me how beautiful I was,
smiling sadly with eyes like burnt moons
hiding secrets behind the sun,
a gravitational pull for the mentally ill,
the distraught, the unloved.

I told him no.

He told me how special I was,
tempting great men with good faith,
a harlot born from Satan’s tongue,
a perfect delusion for the mentally ill,
the distraught, the unloved.

I told him no.

He told me he was mentally ill,
distraught, unloved,
in dire need of desperate release,
and salvation would only come on his knees,
shaking to the sound of my voice.

I told him no.

He told me how sorry I would be
when he twisted my words like arms
and shot arrows through the bull’s-eye
he had painted on my chest.

I told him no.

I am not the voice of a saviour,
nor the hint of a wish,
I am fucking dangerous,
coming to claw the truth
from behind a liar’s lips.

 

© Nicole Lyons 2017

Wildling Child

A Must Read from Our Lady of Lust and Grace

Source: Wildling Child

Yes, I Remember You

Yes, I remember you.
I remember the hitch
and the gasp before
my veins opened up
into fields upon fields
upon barren wastelands.
I remember how thunder felt
that night when a thousand
wild stallions carried my pulse
around the mountains of my bones
and placed it where I hoped
I would never remember you again.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

Between Flashes

This piece was originally published on Feminine Collective

I still remember the way
adrenaline burned
when my pulse raced
to sync with the others,
between flashes of light,
and the gulp of yours.
I still remember the way
deviance danced in my veins
when my pulse raced
to sync with the others,
between stops,
and licking you
up off the floor.
I still remember the way
shame seared
when my pulse raced
to sync with the others,
between flashes of truth,
and hot mouths slurping
our cold lies.
I still remember the way
my pulse slowed
to sync with the others,
between flashes of disbelief
and the scalding emptiness
after the taste of my dreams
hit the back of our throats.

Pressure Sex (trigger warning) – Our Lady Of Lust And Grace

My girl, oh my feisty awesome girl, got sexually assaulted last year. What do you say? “I’ve been there, I love you, be brave, you got this.” It’s almost a rote response at this point. One i…

Source: Pressure Sex (trigger warning)

Bursting Pure And Blooming

Landlocked and scraping my belly
in the depths of their apologies,
I learned to hold my breath
in an ocean of abandonment.
The bitter taste of sunny days
danced upon my tongue, twisting
with the weeds of their neglect before
I swallowed them, and felt
the tear of my lungs
bursting pure, and blooming
the greenest words
from my throat.
The feathered stroking
of doubtful creatures making homes
out of the shame in my veins
screamed for release,
and oh how I released them.
Into deaf ears and cruel eyes
my soul flowed, spilling
truth and pouring pain
into the deep pools
of their shallow love.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

Thank You – Charlene/Lorna Evol

It has taken me a great while to find the peace to say the words that I knew I needed to. Many long dark nights and cold days have brought me to this place to speak to you. I’m sure you are expecting searing words to pour from the pain you caused me. It would be a lie to say that there are not many tear stained pages filled with that anger, but today I came to say Thank You.

You and your actions, as cold and cruel as they were, saved me. I can’t deny you acted in complete selfishness, but you gave me something that will never be taken away. You taught me how to dig down deep into my soul and find the will to fight. It was a hard lesson and so many times more of a curse than a gift, but I came out the other side.

Thank you for tearing me apart so I could learn to love all my broken pieces and put myself back together again. Thank you for rejecting my love. It showed me how truly precious and valuable it is. I came to understand that I am special because you gave me a sense of worthlessness. I didn’t write these words to burn you with hatred. I write these words to release you with forgiveness.

I’m sure you expected me to despise you, but you gave me the gift of compassion out of your abuse and apathy. I just wanted to say Thank You!

 

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Charlene Trolinder aka Lorna Evol is a small town kid born and raised in Dumas, TX. She fought all her childhood to survive, born with a rare chromosomal disease. She attended West Texas A&M, where she obtained a Bachelor’s in Psychology. It was later in life that she realized she struggled with severe depression and anxiety. Each day is a battle, but she loves the simple things. She is an avid reader and animal lover. She draws her inspiration from her struggles, and she tries to give hope to others through her words.

Follow Lorna’s beautiful words on Evocative Eloquence.

Dropping Leaves of Dreams – Nicole Lyons

Thank you to Sudden Denouement for publishing my latest piece.

Source: Dropping Leaves of Dreams – Nicole Lyons