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Eye of the StormI believed I could make the wind blow,.
and force the moon to shine at night,
create rainbows just by thinking,
and hold tea parties for fairies in July,
I was the queen of my own graceful lands.
Yet, I grew old and realized,
I am the kind of girl who'd trip and fall,
often for stepping on her own feet.
My crown of diamond and gold
now a rusted piece of bronze,
I lost my throne to treason, my kingdom to hate,
I became the eye of a hurricane,
loaded with mishaps I need to atone.
I felt the soft touches of angels,
and lost my own wings to demons who could crush stone.
Felt the scorching tears run so often,
I knew I must have hit bottom low.
I had nothing holy, no one to call dear,
but here I am, the starting point of my own storm.
I felt fear, clung to shadows,
encased my heart within marble walls,
and threw the keys that can unlock my soul.
So many chances I've lost with no love to seek,
and so many people I turned my back to.
I let the darkness gnaw through my bones.
this will no longer be a secret if you read itI don’t like eating-
Gasps fill my ears like an orchestra that was just waiting for the right moment to play
And then the oh-so-common question of “Why!?”
Because apparently it’s too hard to grasp- too unnatural to believe
No matter what I eat or when I eat it- all I get is pain
My stomach feels like it’s twisting and turning into knots
Like I’m being stabbed constantly as I take another bite
And most times I don’t throw up- no that’s only on occasion and that doesn’t even soothe the pain
My parents cared for a week and a day or maybe less
I went off wheat and could tell no difference- the pain was the same
I tried adding and subtracting different things from my diet
I tried eating only “healthy” things for a few weeks- long enough I would have felt a difference if there than been one but there wasn’t one that they or I could tell- still pain
After that they gave up and I- I stopped eating as much, just enough to b
on how to not die (keep it together)Don’t think about what makes you want to go so far down into the deep
I don’t mean ignore it- don’t pretend it’s not there just… I don’t know anymore
I was better at this when I was 14- when all my friends at that time were convinced killing themselves was the only way
&& somewhere around age 17 I had no friends and no one asked me to “save” them anymore
&& I lost my methods- I lost my touch on how to teach someone how not to die
“It’s not worth it”
“She’s not worth it”
“Do you really want to hurt your family?”
“How do you know they don’t care?”
“Have you asked?”
“I would miss you”
“Why do I care?”
“Does it matter? Can’t I just care?”
“Why can’t I?”
“What’s so wrong with caring these fucking days?”
&& now I sit here- crying as I try to convince myself that if they kill themselves it w
Be the Lightplease, oh please, stop this fight
don't you realize what this could ignite.
think about peace and mercy, you will see the light
stop doing what's wrong, start doing that's right.
what happened to the promises of shining bright
may be your heart is filled with the horrible kind of fright.
when you feel anger, take down a paper and start to write
you will find yourself flying high like a soaring red kite.
the dawn is near, just survive this dark cold night
remember to stay strong and hold your pillow tight.
the answers to your questions you won't find on any website
your life becomes colorless, covered with black, grey and white.
try to smile, and see that life is actually a delight
take all your happy memories and make them your highlight.
if you keep pondering on what you lost,
only trouble you are going to invite.
don't be scared, don't be afraid,
be brave as a solider, be brave as a knight.
the setting sun depresses you, and then come the saddening twilight
you start drowning, and t
If...If these boundaries and borders didn't exist,
my thoughts would be less fogy and without any mist.
If we didn't belong to different cultures and religions,
it wouldn't be difficult for me to take these decisions.
If these differences and distances could disappear,
I would be diagnosed with happiness and no sign of fear.
If these restrictions and limitations could vanish,
all my stress and tensions would suddenly diminish.
If we hadn't confessed our love for each other,
would you still care for me, would you still bother ?
If we hadn't met at all,
I wouldn't be so confident and stand so tall.
If I was as mature as you and you as immature as me,
we both could let go of these feelings and set each other free.
If you were as tangled as me and me as untangled as you,
I'll accept that this is not an illusion and your love for me is true.
If I didn't smile whenever I missed you,
and look in the mirror to capture the astonishing view.
If all this was just a sweet dream or may be a bluff,
Of Escape and AcceptanceDarkness. That was the first thing she noticed when she opened her eyes. It was so dark, that for a moment she wondered if she had actually opened her eyes or not. Next, she felt fabric. Layers of fabric wrapped around her. It was wet, and had a light scent of human sweat.and lastly, she was aware of a sound of something breathing in the dark. Each breath came out in a ragged gasp, as if the person had stayed underwater for two long, or the whole world was after them. The gasps were dipped in terror and insane desperation.
It took her a moment to acknowledge that the gasps of terror were her own. She tried to calm herself down. A nightmare. It was just a nightmare. But it had terrified and hurt her more than nightmares usually did. Out of instinct, she groped around the twisted bed sheets...and found nothing. Nothing but more fabric in the unoccupied space in the other side of the bed. Bewildered, she almost called out, but she remembered. She remembered, and she wished she hadn't. Sti
A red hot bird,
aggressive and wild
When small, is gentle,
warm and mild
But it grows as it eats
everything in sight
It grows, and growls
red feathers of might
Is raging, but cunning,
it can hide in the ash
But it can be lured out
and explode in a dash
It sucks in all air,
and spews out black smoke
It will try to touch you,
or make you choke
It can only be defeated
by something wet and cold
Something nice and soothing,
And blue as hope
We Hold HeartsWe Hold Hearts
Angela Malzow 2013
The water rippled, it was nearly silver as it reflected the white washed, full moon. The breeze began to die down until an eerie calm embraced the air. A collective cooing of nature whispered from the darkness within the thick forest which surrounded the mirrored pool, there in that lush vale.
“Drop it in,” came a rough and masculine voice.
Sapphire irises caught the moonlight as they fixed on the source of the voice. Smooth, rosy lips tugged as a hiss escaped from between neatly aligned, stark white teeth. “I will drop it when I'm good and ready!”
The two stood on opposite sides of the small pond and glared at one another.
He was a man of brutish quality wearing thick, battle scarred leather. His weapons defined the kind of warrior he was through axes of varying sizes and all bore the same sigil imprinted in the blades. His jet hair dusted his shoulders and f
An Icon of Men Gone AwryAn Icon of Men Gone Awry
Angela Malzow 2013
Golden tears, since frozen silver
Forged deep in her cheeks
Divine retribution, her reverie
So laughs the pallid Valkyrie
Flaxen mane whips free
A flash of steel screams
An army falls to a knee
So relentless, the iron Valkyrie
Night of echoes, dawn breaks through the trees
Nightmare throes, her heart seeps melancholy
Darkness she's come to know, no less than serendipity
Duality clutches the heartbroken Valkyrie
Rising suns paint the sky, her tainted vision seeks
Palaces built upon the demise of the weak
Every battle she divides and repents her deceit
So mourns the bloodied Valkyrie
Skulls piled to craft her throne of mottled dreams
Armor absorbing death's tone, staining from the seams
Span of alabaster feathers turned stone, all believe
In the corruption of the last Valkyrie
No whisper this time to soothe and relieve
All the souls cut down and grieved
At the hands of an avatar as she lays siege
To die under the judgment of the crimson Valkyri
Samael's Grand Day Out She crossed the road like a forgotten shadow. Every single bone in her hurt. Every single inch of her skin had a mark...she should have been dead a long time ago.
Then again, being attacked and chased by three werewolves built like a P90X battalion tended to do that to you.
The werewolves' black coats of fur were nearly invisible in the inky night, with only a sliver of moonlight giving their bodies an ethereal sheen and making their eyes glimmer an ember-red. Their chorus of panting nearly drowned the rapid click-patter of their feet.
The woman being chased, a demoness by the name of Samael, was now beginning to regret her entrance to earth as Fairuza Balk for Halloween (Samael had also taken the liberty of augmenting the breasts and buttocks with her snazzy demon powers).
As Samael well knew, the werewolves had human forms, and she was pretty sure the human mind behind the animal was causing mixed hungers.
"Damn it!" she cursed as she ran. "This would have been fun back in hell
FACTORY DEMON FORKLIFT BATTLE If you've ever had the wondrous experience of working in a factory, you would quickly replace "wondrous" with "tedious," and then "tedious" with "bang-head-on-wall boredom." Allow me to enlighten you on the subject.
Making vehicular sun roofs is one part automation, one part frustration. You place a metal, rectangular frame on a "nest" of suction cups right after signing it with your John Hancock and Julian date (ensuring that quality control hunts you down if you fuck up). A robot that resembles a mechanized dragon neck takes a piece of glass off the conveyor belt with its suction cup head. The borders of the glass have been primed and slathered by two other robots with a smeary black goo called urethane (also known as "WHY WON'T THIS SHIT COME OFF?"). The robot then rotates the glass towards you, where it eases up to your nest and plops it on there, only to reel back and fetch another piece for the other two build-stations.
You then flip a lever to suck the glass down ont
PostbellumIn the half-darkness of the orange-lit night, I can see myself in eyes that flutter between my nose and fidgeting hands. Somehow in those glimmering orbs the reflection is less warped than the one I hold within. Heavy silence leaks from two silent lips, but in collision the reaction creates warmth seeping back in. Discarded tissues litter the worn porch-boards from a smashed box smelling of lint and mud. I watch stages of expressions flit before the mouth opens once more –
“It’s good to have this. Someone who–” But they already know, I can tell by the intent eyes that somehow hold the both of us together. I can see the skin still recovering on the knuckles that were white and tense, still glistening with salty wetness. A wry almost-smile curves a matching damp cheek, a cheek on which I can almost see the unnatural colors like stains in my own mirror. I look into those eyes, determined this time to not to let this pass as countless had before
Destroyed.It's painfully obvious,
what we had is ruin.
I ache from what I desecrated.
I feel broken,
did you break me?
I NEED AN ESCAPE.
I need to fade away.
What I feel is fake.
I'm not myself.
Myself is dead...
Myself is dread...
What have you done?
VitriolePlease don't ever speak
say "I Love You".
Let death lay hands
My heart beats one more.
You will never control.
You are in the past.
Be alone in your hall of people.
KeptSilence ringing from my lips
Drips onto the fingertips
Frozen on these keys
One note is all I need
The voices singing in my bed
Are carved into my maiden head
Vowing not to leave
One note is all I need
Freedom clinging to my leg
The poor, poor lad won't cease to beg
For reprieve from release
One note is all I need
CandorDo you remember that girl?
The cute one, who laughed all the time.
Glowing, with the leaves she twirled,
Of this wonder world never gettin' tired.
Her parents were proud
Of their Miss Perfect.
Her, head in the clouds,
Already too late.
Sometimes I think I can see her,
In a gentle smile or a scornful glare.
And I wish she was still there,
That strong girl with long brownie hair.
SHE was shining all over the place,
A big wide grin always on her face.
But that girl is gone
And will not return.
Yes, that girl is dead,
But not forgotten.
She is in that child
With green sparkling eyes;
In that old lady,
Whose look is so wise.
In the birds and trees,
Where she used to hide.
Them, the only ones,
who could see her cry.
Lost her on the way,
When I was fleeing.
Looking at a jay,
Now hardly a blur,
I used to be her.
She used to be me.
Solution?... We KillAt twilight, the members of the forest gather to a meeting in a small clearing between trees...
"Growing up we we're all afraid of one thing," The Leader spoke to his followers, "Capture orbs.... The cursed man made orbs have captured our kind for ages, and stole our loved ones from us. The purpose? Just to bring them back to us as a mindless slaves, forced to fight their own kind, not even remembering his or her own friends... The barbaric nature of humans have forced us from our homes with their massive nests, and made us all have to live in fear. The solution? We kill... But how would we when there's so many of them with our own kind as fighting slaves? The answer is simple... We go after their champion! One of our own has figured out how to read one of their many languages, for he was once a slave to man as well. It wasn't till his so called master got a new, stronger slave that he was released... Big mistake humans... Now we have the upper hand! This written sheet right here tells
On a rainy dayHad anyone been able to see her, they would probably think her ceiling was fascinating, judging by the way she had been staring at it for the last couple of hours.
As the church clock stroke eight, her mind drifted to Will again.
He was probably awake already, getting dressed for work.
She couldn't help but wonder whether or not he had been able to sleep; if he had, that meant he was completely insensitive and did not care in the slightest about her.
How could he be able to go to sleep after last night?
Her eyes widened in shock; what was the matter with her?
She had no way of knowing what Will did or didn't do last night, and yet she was already accusing him in her head. She should find something to keep herself busy, otherwise she was going to drive herself mental.
She pushed the covers off of her and stood; after adding some logs to the fire, she moved in front of her washstand and chanced a glance in the mirror hanging on the wall above it. Her reflection surprised he
Black InkAll alone, the old lamp hums its glow
to a familiar tune:
a writer splits open the delicate tapestry
of skin on her wrist
with a decorous silver blade,
and in little beads of liquid
flows black ink,
out from her veins
and onto the pages,
screaming in pain and in silence,
shouting at brick walls,
whispering to the wind,
“I am in pain.”
But no one can hear her voice
over the deafening silence
of the lamp-lit darkness.
Hidden DemonsScary and cold, isn't it? Deep inside...
Keeping your secrets makes you strong.
It helps? Letting your demons hide?
But what if you are deadly wrong?
Go to him, he'll take you as you are.
He will introduce you to his own.
Understand? You are not that afar!
You don't have to be with them alone.
Someone who accepts your nightmare,
is the one you are looking for.
Both, together, you can feel lighter.
Life will offer you so much more...
Go on, live and soar!
In The End It's You Who MattersIn The End It's You Who Matters
Yes you with the frown
The one who has felt pain
And has shed so many tears.
I know how hard it is
To feel so much pain,
But you have to remember
That in the end of everything
It's you who matters.
You might feel alone
Just wanting someone to love you,
But you have to remember
That you have to love yourself first
Before anything else.
You have to be confident
Do what you love to do
And show the world that you can succeed.
If someone tells you
That you can't
Don't listen to them
For they are not the people
Who do give you support.
My friend I know things are hard now,
But you have to remember
That it's you who matters.
these fragmentsI love the way my eyelashes
catch the rain
(but not how it sometimes lands on my upper lip,
and feels like sweat)
I love Loy and Plath
and all their fragments I recognise in myself
(but I’m scared of the poppies, the tulips,
and mostly the bleach)
I have shored against my ruins,
And that is how I was built
and how I will be built every time I break
I love the way I feel
when my to-do list is cleared
And my mind is free to roam
(away from dust and dirt
And how I haven’t done
what I promised myself I would)
I love the way winter’s horrid
wet and cold makes me ill
But I still return,
And begin again
Don't Look BackWhy? What? How? When? Who?
Scream it! Chase it down!
Thrash the questions, boil the blood
Package it neatly in a news story
Life reduced to a tagline
Meaning shot through snappy semantic sentences
Scream it like you mean it
Exhaust fermented fury and frustration
And spend it, spend it all
Shot out and down a dark well
Sealed over and surrendered
Face stings salt enough to buoy the ocean
A warrior rises from trembling knee
Yesterday's deeds remain unchanged
In permanence the writer marks
Regret is but a useless toil
Redemption dwells in the dauntless dawn
Don't be afraid to face it.
So MuchI could spend hours yelling at the world.
I could spend my days ranting and raving about all the ways things went wrong.
Tears would be involved.
I could become a mess and breakdown at your feet.
I could tell you of the weight I carry on my shoulders,
Of the horrors locked behind my teeth.
I could open my heart to you.
Beg for anything.
Anything but this.
Because this isn't enough, not by a long way.
I could tell you of how it hurts for no one to notice.
For no one to even ask.
For them to believe me when I lie.
I could tell you so much.
And that's why I answer
when you ask.
Because there is so m
Glass HousesComing to terms
With the life I live,
Braving a new frontier
With all bargaining chips
On the table …
I seek the truth
Awash with the momentous
Opportunity in front of me,
The occasion arises
To bear arms aloft
And finalize my enemy.
With no greater purpose
Than to bear this
A moment of hesitation
Fails to bring swift justice.
Alas, I can no sooner
End this agony
A stone I cannot cast
Beckons me to honor my fury;
Thus, therein lies no resolve.
RainbowsGeorgia is all angles and curves, overlapping dark shapes against the smooth blue bowl of sky behind her. Even from far down the trail, Claire can hear her laughing, can see the brightness of Georgia’s smile even though her own eyes are blinded with sweat and sunlight. Step by shaking step, she stumbles up the hill towards her friend, legs aching with a slow, deep pain. She breathes in another lungful of trail dust, and the heat settles, dry and oppressive, on her neck.
“Hurry up,” Georgia calls, fidgeting with impatience, reaching for her water bottle to take short, quick sips, only to shove it back into its pocket again and dash back down the hill. Claire groans as the meteorite approaches, unstoppable, and trudges another few feet before Georgia is on her in a whirlwind of chatter and eager hands pushing her up the trail.
Even as Claire struggles playfully, something inside her is thrilling, a frisson of excitement warmer than the hot sun around them. When Georgia&
Lost Love now blue heart...Blue heart
I feel, smell, and see you all around me.
To lose everything and then lose my everything.
We found one another through our past lives.
Pain stricken and feeling defeated we clung to each other.
Addiction of our passion we grew strong desires.
The passion was intense with every look and touch we meshed.
Longing for each other turned to worry and despair
The differences seen in your feelings appear through lies and manipulations..
Unsure thoughts and worry from trying to cover what was in our heads.
Our hearts throb with agony as we reach around for nothing to hold on to.
Skin so weak of past torment it tears.
To still want to mend something so fragile for love.
We see the good and do not want to lose.
Being alone fills us with fear.
still I want the touch, caress of you lips on mine.
How pathetic am I to grovel over you....
I grieve for you..
I wish I had a magic wand to wave so you get lost in me again..
I want you to need and desire me.
Please come back to me..
My heart is
FickleThe first time I cried and convulsed, I screamed and wailed,
All I wanted was an end to the pain.
The first time, I felt my heart break
The second time, I got my wish...
The second time there were no tears, no sound passed my tightly pursed lips.
And my heart... I struggled to remember what one of those felt like.
The second time, I was left dead inside.
The second time I realised that to feel pain was a blessing.
A child's wishThere is a man
Who lives on a cloud
And all he does all day
Is watch over our dreams
His touch, as soft as feathers
Though most are too busy
He watches over the quiet ones
Hearing the words they cannot speak
He is like the breeze
Ruffling your hair slightly
Telling you he’s there
The guardian moon, watching over his stars
Alien SkinSequel to The Storefront
(story line over view)
future Earth, grossly over-populated a ragged war-scarred mankind gene weary (badly degraded) and generally failing health (poor diet/disease) for the most part life expectancy avg. 40 years
gone are the glory days gone are the hopes for a better tomorrow replaced by the grinding monotonous bitterness of survival/ living in the now
new hope comes to a hopeless world
ambassadors come in peace baring a very special gift to "Honor" us
one that will forever change life for every human on the planet
alien skin; a metallic looking liquid once applied to the skin allows the wearer to outwardly appear to others as they would like to be seen. old is young fat is thin beauty is only limited by your desire.
play off the social implications of that change
let Earth revel in this new found savior for a moment before the twist.
the skin only lasts a few weeks then must be reapplied to continue to keep the effect
The Day You Got Me Out Of BedThe day you got me out of bed,
Was the day I hit my head,
Filled with ironic thoughts,
And voices that at whims would haunt.
You said it was time to wake up.
So I opened my eyes and screamed.
Blankets pulled off of my body,
Naked skin gleamed.
I was not the girl that I always seemed.
Extremely afraid of what you had deemed.
Death was what I had dreamed.
You spoke softly.
"God doesn’t want you yet."
I was always your little pet.
With your smile as I tried to ignore
Until the day you caught my attention,
Telling me to accept who I was.
The day I got you out of bed,
Was the day nothing was wrong with my head,
Filled with positive energy,
Thoughts of recovery.
I spoke “It’s time to wake up.”
You said “I’m so tired, I hurt, Life is tough.”
So I crawled under your blankets
Kissed your forehead.
Fell asleep with you,
And then we got up together.
The day you got me out of bed,
Was the day I learned,
How to survive,
who to trust,
that it was okay,
Dragon-BeastSometimes, I forget my place.
I forget that I'm the one who is bad.
I forget my spot.
The outer ring.
The outer circle.
The extra, unneeded link.
Sometimes, I guess I forget.
I forget that she could leave, and not look back once.
I forget that he could walk away, find someone better in a heartbeat.
I forget that they, all my friends, are the only chains around the madness.
When I remember, I am better.
I am quieter.
I am smarter.
Untitledi'm holding myself
because you are the air in my lungs
and if loving you
is like breathing
i would rather drown
ribcage regrets.you stiched a heart on my sweater sleeve
every stich you made
i pulled up one more.
you would just chuckle
and continue making the heart on my sleeve.
like it was a game.
too bad you didn't make a ribcage
i could rattle.
but it's easier this way...
The Man in the MaskI can feel him closing on me, the man in the mask. With each step I take I can hear his footfall just after; like an off-beat metronome.
He’s been after me for a while now—ten, fifteen minutes, maybe. Every attempt I’ve made at shaking him has ended in complete failure. I turn a corner—he’s already there waiting. I try to double back—he’s there, staring at me from behind that blank mask with cold eyes.
My last resort was to run into this alley; hoping that I would lose him in the many turns and dead ends. That too, has failed me.
I don’t get it. Why is he after me, of all people? What have I ever done to him? I haven’t made any enemies. Have I?
My heart nearly stops when I see the brick wall ahead of me. I can’t believe it. I’ve trapped myself in my own attempt to escape the man in the mask.
I soon find myself with my back against the wall, staring at the man intent on killing me. Noticing the light gleaming off of his h
A collection of haikuStanding here alone,
After days of group bonding,
It is a strange change.
Tunnel dark as night,
Hiding beneath the hard Earth,
Then you reach the sky.
Strangers chatter on,
About things I cannot care,
I am nearly home.
I must protect her,
It is me and my demons,
She is innocent.
People are too loud,
The city is full of them,
I miss the country.
I venture back home,
But the lock rejects my key,
Am I home at all?
A calm gentle breeze,
Perched upon a mountain top,
Waiting to come down.
The demons haunt me,
I can feel their evil eyes,
They are closing in.
Blazing orange sky,
Clouds part for the rising Sun,
The Moon says goodbye.
Those with broken hearts,
See the world with brand new eyes,
And ignore its shine.
Heartbeat will speed up,
Stomach will find butterflies,
Words will not come out.
No message received,
No attempt at contact made,
Does she think of me?
Thinking of the past,
Melancholy settles in,
Those old friends are gone.
Living life in doubt,
By making wrong key choices,
I will live"Bring me her medical chart, please", said the voice. The sound of opening and closing doors could be heard. Several minutes of silence and the sound repeated itself. Rustling of papers and the occasional muttering gave away the reading of the brought chart.
"So, according to this, she has a few months left."
"No therapy they tried succeeded?
"No, sir. She also contacted the foundations that are researching that kind of cancer, but it seems her case is special.
"I see she refused every suggestion for surgical removal. I'm not surprised, the chance of survival is almost equal to zero."
Silence took over the room again. Only the antique wall clock ticked the seconds quietly.
"How is our other... project... progressing?"
"Excellent, sir. "We're just finishing-"
A ringtone sounded. "Excuse me", said the other voice and answered the call.
"Yes?... Yes... Really? Excellent- That, too? Marvelous... Yes, yes, I'll tell him. Cheers."
"What are you supposed to tell me?" asked the fir
WB05I ask you, my love, to die
for you that never lived
are the only wire
who still keeps me tied
to this world of lies.
And crumbs of moon
in a dream I had tonight
were rolling upwards
in the sky.
To the Feminist from the Battered ManIt would be so easy to wear my emotions on my sleeves, to wear my pain on my skin and display my feeling publicly for all to see like a newly painted canvass in public museum.
When I would think of their hands roaming my body, their words of hate and cruelty piercing my soul and their fist cracking my bones, I’d love it if I could just break down, tremble with tears and erupted into sobs.
Exactly like a …like a girl.
Don’t get me wrong ladies; you’re not all like this. I’ve seen you too when you’re corned, when you want only what you deserve…Justice. So you blame me for what another man did to you , besides, what one man does amplifies what we all do, does it not?
According to your standards it does.
So if I cry and scream, will you think differently of me? Will you think for just a second, that I’m human too? Will you finally believe me when I say that I’m not the man that hit you, not the man that raped your or beat you, not the
UntranslatableNo words left anymore could I speak
My hearts language is untranslatable
Only fragments of images
and unending longing
You should be here at my side
but what are we to do?
There is no magick that can bring you here,
Nor fix what has been done,
nor change our differences of need.
All I know is how much one tiny detail
can pluck at my heartstrings;
the stubble on your upper lip
More real in a dream
than your words on my phone screen.
How Can I?How can I
If there is never a moment
When we see through the same
There is never a time
When the motivation
That the ailments
Left to us
Set to motion
By the scars
Torn into the
Of the people left in it
Of what we have done to it
How can I
Why this is what was left to me
Left to set my mind at peace
When everything is lost
In the midst of war
How can I
MurdererI want to silence these feelings,
Rip them out of my ribcage,
Eat them raw under the raging moon,
Smother them until they’re no more,
Stab a knife in their core and twist in the wound,
Put a gun to their head,
Pull the trigger,
And let the blood cover my skin,
Until it engulfs me from the outside,
Put a rope around their neck,
And hang them until their face is blue and their breath no more,
Cut out their tongue just to hear their muttered screams, their agony,
I want them gone
The LoopIt was your fingers - not mine,
curled into my cheeks;
chalky white, achromic
and body a vessel for madness -
caught in a loop.
The minutes crawled,
as I spun inward;
thoughts, sounds - repeating. Repeating,
growling in my belly
and your voice
screaming, thick and
The eventide must of turned to dusk
when I came through,
expelling ashes and your relief.