Posted on my castle temple walls
Signs you should of took the time to read
"Warning"
Monster untamed and vicious
"Danger"
Toxic tears will erode your soul
"Keep Out"
You will die slow and painfully
These walls hold secrets
Victims to my monstrous demented ways
Have become the white picket fence
Barbed-wire running through temples
Oozing out the toxicity of my love
You should of read the signs
They were warnings
Before you walked the yellow brick road
That is now painted red
With those who have tried
To make me something I was never meant to be
I'm no angel
I'm no saint kneeling at an altar
I'm the demonic statue
Crucified upon golden crosses
I'm the symbolic monster
Tormented by the whipping voices in my head
You should of read the signs
They were warnings
To the same fate that fell upon others
To say it was
"At first sight"
Would be a lie.
I can recall
The sweet look upon your face.
The good-intentioned cool guy.
The offhanded wave
You casually tossed in my direction,
When we were forced
To sit together in the office.
And that day
For the first time
I shaped your name with my lips,
And held your gaze.
I had no interest,
You were too cool for someone
Like me.
And I could never know you, really.
And all
Had
Begun.
i love school
because i love
to learn new things
and find out what
i want to do
with my life
and i haven't
decided yet
but i suppose
i will
when that
time comes
The little metal box it.hides in plain site behind the velvet painting of a Zulu warrior slightly off center a bit to the right.
The warrior. Hmmm.No The vault.
A naked dwarf. He struggles quietly at midnight to gather and drag my blocks of raw marble across crystaline floors to the vaault then
He stands there for hours before clcking the numbers.Clack goes the handle. Success.
The hinges have rusted since last deposit. He looks furtively over his shoulder as the metalic groan turns to a squeek. Abra cadabra.
Time to do work. Stealthy old fella he whistles while he works.
One block,two, three and so.
He forces the stones through a the four square door.
Rubs his hands together. Wipes the drivle from his chin
Then walks out the door backwards. The one he came in.
My vault is reloaded with pleasure and pain.
So I can write poetry again and again.
You should know that you mean more to me than you'll ever know
You should know I realized that a long time ago
You should know I think about you every night
You should know that you are my light
You should know I love you more than anything in the world
And you should know that I mean it....
I LOVE YOU!
I am calmer
when I do not wear
time
on my wrist.
The seconds do not tick past my skin,
like they do when I wear a watch.
I have enough time to become the waves of the ocean;
rays of warm sun against backs sitting on hills with friends.
I have enough time to learn how to love people,
and love myself.
I am limiting myself. We are limiting each other.
We do not have time to sit around
and calm down
because we're always pushing ourselves to the next spot.
Place.
Time.
Fights
They throw words like little hand grenades
because in our house, we cannot use fists
(I feel that those would hurt less)
and he,
small boy full of rage and sound and not much else
with fists balled to tight
each wanting to strike out, to break his sister's stupid face
Searching through the catacombs of his mind he thought only of falling through a war chest
searching for some sharpened bone or anything to use
he was a skilled warrior of the shadows
with one jab he could thrust thorns through her guarded heart
the precision of a sibling sniper on his side
he had wounded her before
he almost always won
but his wretched
sister
refused to lose this time
refused to be out manipulated
She too had been training
sharpening a silver tongue
that usually served as a shield to her brother's barbs and wicked advances
but today it was a dagger
and assassin for the old king
"You never loved me," he lunged with a flourish
She parried with a cuss word and a sigh
he danced aside, and jabbed at her flank
"I'm going to jump off the cliff" he declared
she scowled
this move usually did her in, but with one glare, she kicked the sword from his hand, and rounded upon him
no fencing foil was on her, no seemly battle ax
but a dagger
and she drew in close
the killing blow
"You are only my half brother" she whispered
and he
was vanquished
The battle done, the two sunk to their knees
and sobbed
Fights
They throw words like little hand grenades
because in our house, we cannot use fists
(I feel that those would hurt less)
A garden of smiles
Is growing in my heart
And when I miss you I cry
With those tears
I water my smiles
And every time you are near
Radiant smile blooms in my eyes
Its breathtaking silken petals fly free
On the wings of my lungs
Chiming happily
~Natasha~
I have this ache, Doctor. And so far, no amount of drugs or drink have been able to cure it. Where does it hurt, you ask? Why right here, Doctor. Right here in my chest. It started feeling odd when I saw HER for the first time. It was a Thursday; August eighteenth of two thousand eleven I believe. I remember her perfectly, for I had not, and have not, seen anybody more beautiful in my life. Her auburn hair was streaked with red and waterfalled perfectly over her delicate shoulders, that were on that day cloaked in a blue jacket. Her long graceful fingers bloomed from slender palms and were crowned with an elegant black nail polish with a cracked silver finish. To this day, I have never so much as imagined anybody more perfect than her. So what's my problem? Well Doctor, she hates me. I can see it glint in her dark eyes every time she looks at me. Why is this? Why I have not the slightest idea. All I have ever been was polite to her. All I have ever been was kind. When she shivers I give her my jacket, regardless of how cold I am at the time. When she is hungry, I use my last dime to feed her. I do everything in my power to make her happy, make her laugh when pain adds weight to her shoulders. But I guess it just wasn't enough in the end. What do you prescribe, did you say? An entire bottle of pain pills and a slash down each wrist? That sounds about right. Thank you, my dear Doctor.
pick my brain and blame me
blame me
do not tell me anything
because i will overthink it
to the point where i think i took a breath at the wrong time
i am the worst nightmare
of every child who has parents that fight in front of them
i smell like campfire smoke and regret
dark basements with tiny bathrooms
full of regret
i am night
i am night
i am the past coming back to haunt you i am
broken fingernails and pulled hair and i am
searching
waiting
i am waiting for you to be alone so i can
pick your brains and i am
god i am god
i am god
