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Monica Chaloupka Dec 2010
I've got chaos up in my sky.
Lines of clouds floating in and out.
Some in the shape of tears I cry.
Becoming mere wisps when more come about.

Oh how I wish such clouds did not form.
They bring sadness and frustration.
Such things do not keep me warm.
In sneaks a cold into an empty station.
Monica Chaloupka Oct 2010
Reach up and up.
Standing upon tippy toes.
Stubbornly clinging to the edge.
Only to misstep, falling down and down.

Scream less and less.
Reaching towards anything.
Desperately flailing at nothing.
Only to crash land, breaking up and up.
This is not quite how I want it to be, but with me being a perfectionist I doubt it ever will be as most of my other works feel to me.
Monica Chaloupka Sep 2010
Beauty crowds me till I die.

Look there, across the street.
Do you see her? Do you see how they gaze at her?

My blood boils. My breath quickens.

One slice. One piece.
Her breath escapes. Her beauty gone.

Death claims me again this night.

Look there, next to the horror books.
Do you see her? Do you see how they gaze at her?

My blood boils. My breath quickens.

One slice. Two piece.
Her face pales. Her beauty gone.

Death claims me again this night.

Look there, across from that old ***.
Do you see her? Do you see how they gaze at her?

My blood boils. My breath quickens.

One Slice. Three piece.
Her body slackens. Her beauty gone.

Death claims me once and forever more this night.
Beauty no longer suffocating.
Monica Chaloupka Sep 2010
Words are passing through cracked lips.
Lips that have been poisoned day by day.
Days which are filled with her constant lies.
Lies that rip and tear and fall like broken glass.
Glass riddles the floor between her and I.
I turn my head aside in the end.
Endings are all that we have left.
Monica Chaloupka Sep 2010
Wandering close by
Light falls and vanishes
Sadly turned away
Monica Chaloupka Mar 2010
Meddling little flies.
Flying over an open wound.
Maggots tearing away flesh
feeding their bottomless pit.

Eyes watch in resigned horror
as flies lay egg after egg that hatch
over and over.

'Is this what has become of me?
Something to be away and be
eaten by such lowly creatures?'

Bitter tears silently stream from her eyes.
Not for herself but tears for the living.

'You did what you thought was best,
but best for who? Your own indignation
was the ending of me.'

The buzzing of flies climbs to
an unbearable pitch.
Haunting sighs sound from
every pore of her body.

'You did this to me, you caused me to do this.
Do not ever forget that.'

She cries out as the maggots tear
in a frenzy at her body.

A lone fly meanders off.

— The End —