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Life is not found in the still breath

that one seldom is even aware of.

It is not found in the beating of our hearts,

though that is often where we look.

It is not in the silent looks that are passed

from friend to friend and back.

Nor is it in the sweet chaste kiss

between new lovers.

Life is in the blood that flows rapidly,

spilling out onto skin canvasses.

It is in the shouts exchanged

between enemies,

the flying fists and flashing blades

that end in a final scream.

It is there in the moans of ecstasy

found only in the passionate sex

of those breaking all of societies rules.

Life is never still,

never silent,

never solitary.

It is in the fire,

in the pain,

and in the pleasure of danger that leads us on.





Tanya M. Costa(12/28/2005)

When you speak of me,

do not speak of my death,

do not mourn my decaying body,

for it is no longer mine.

We parted ways when I departed,

never to be as one again.

When you think of me,

do not think of my pain

do not beat at your bre,asts

and cry out at your failures.

It is not a failure to move on.

Do not search for an understanding

that will only bring more pain.

Accept my refusal to continue

as my final attempt to regain control.

I did not take my life,

for my life was already gone.

I did not destroy my body,

for that destruction occured so long ago.

I only am seeking to find the life

that was meant to be mine

before the demons came to eat my soul.

For me, all happiness lies in my death.

It is in death that I am reborn.



Tanya M. Costa(12/28/2005)

Your words beat against my brain

like rain against window glass,

banging like shutters in a harsh wind.

I can hear you speaking

but can understand nothing.

Inside, I feel as empty as a motel room:

used for the night and then abandoned.

How can your words mean anything

when all I hear is my heart breaking?

What words can dull the pain

of the loss of a life taken?

My mind is screaming out it's sadness,

but you only try to drown out the noise.

You cannot stand to see the tears that I shed,

afraid that you too will want to cry.

I bite down and hold the cries back,

push my feelings down with my fist.

You do not want to watch me deal with this.

I cannot cry, cannot scream, cannot be in pain.

The words that I share you refuse to hear

because they hurt you under your skin.

My skin shrieks for release,

the razor slowly skims,

and the tears that I swallowed down,

are purged from within.





Tanya Costa(12/19/05)

In the beams of suns first light,

you will find me.

It is only in these fragile rays

that i am free to feel it's warmth.

Too quickly does the moment pass

and once again I am bathed in shadows

Too bright it has become.

Too visible I would be if I remained.

I hover in the darkness,

evading the light that can expose my sins,

strip me of my safety

and thrust me out where prying eyes

can judge me and condemn me.

There is no security in the warmth of light.

It is only in the cold, dark, barren holes

that I can feel less fearful.

Nobody can locate my soul

hiding in the ashes of the fire

that was once my heart.





Tanya Costa(12/11/05)

I see you now,

hiding in the shadows,

trying to disappear.

Your tiny fingers,

clenched tightly together.

I am amazed at the size of them!

They seem so thin and fragile,

how can you possibly use them?

Your legs, like broken spindles,

are twisted beneath you.

Is that your desperate attempt at protection?

Is that why you make yourself so small?

Your childlike gaze has disappeared.

It has been replaced by a look of fear.

No longer do your eyes wander,

eagerly taking in all that you see.

Now they simply race around,

watching to see if you are safe.

Your impish smile has been erased.

The child inside is gone.





Tanya M. Costa(12/11/05)