alexandriablack - Hello Poetry

I've found myself on the edge again Made unwhole by my own unwellness Now, I cling to familiarity Oblivion trying to lure me away To a darkness that grows more inviting Order is my last vestige of hope Keeping me on ground that I find growing smaller All I can do is hold tight Near that which may provide a lifeline Yearning to keep my strength another day Maybe the temptation of the dark shall fade Or I will be revitalized Restrengthen enough to hold my own footing Enough that I will not fall

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Apr 6

Apr 6, 2026 at 1:45 PM UTC

alexandriablack

I'm Fine

I've found myself on the edge again Made unwhole by my own unwellness Now, I cling to familiarity Oblivion trying to lure me away To a darkness that grows more inviting Order is my last vestige of hope Keeping me on ground that I find growing smaller All I can do is hold tight Near that which may provide a lifeline Yearning to keep my strength another day Maybe the temptation of the dark shall fade Or I will be revitalized Restrengthen enough to hold my own footing Enough that I will not fall

14

It was One for the Angels A Sixteen-Millimeter Shrine Within Walking Distance of an Escape Clause There was Time Enough at Last Perchance to Dream And When the Sky Opened Up The Purple Testament had written an Elegy A Mirror Image Where People are Alike All Over And The Monsters are Due on Maple Street The Mighty Casey stood Alone in A World of His Own He was a Nervous Man in a Four Dollar Room He had A Thing About Machines Developed in The Nick of Time Due in part of A Most Unusual Camera That tried to turn him to Dust Back There with The Whole Truth Learned over a Long Distance Call That made him an Obsolete Man Once Upon a Time, There were Dead Man’s Shoes A Quality of Mercy in the Still Valley From The Arrival of The Passerby One More Pallbearer among Five Characters in Search of an Exit The Little People gathered at Four O’Clock To Serve Man The Gift Awaiting The Changing of the Guard Under the Midnight Sun The Bard, The Printer’s Devil Marked The Passage of Lady Anne With The New Exhibit Made In His Image aboard The Death Ship Under the Valley of The Shadow The Incredible World of Horace Ford Became Mute and Miniature Pulled from The Thirty Fathom Grave Jess-Belle reminded him There’s No Time Like the Past Uncle Simon made a Stopover in a Quiet Town He had An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge With The Queen of the Nile It was Spur of the Moment With The Masks and Black Leather Jackets The Fear came at The Bewitchin’ Pool When he heard The Night Call of The Living Doll “Come Wander with me,” he said. Ninety Years Without Slumbering made Uncle Simon The Old Man in the Cave A Stop at Willoughby A Hundred Yards Over The Rim With Person or Persons Unknown He’s Alive With A Certain Kind of Stopwatch The New Exhibit A Young Man’s Fancy A Shadow Play From The Fever And The Things I Found at Twilight

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Feb 20

Feb 20, 2026 at 2:21 AM UTC

alexandriablack

The Things I Found at Twilight

It was One for the Angels A Sixteen-Millimeter Shrine Within Walking Distance of an Escape Clause There was Time Enough at Last Perchance to Dream And When the Sky Opened Up The Purple Testament had written an Elegy A Mirror Image Where People are Alike All Over And The Monsters are Due on Maple Street The Mighty Casey stood Alone in A World of His Own He was a Nervous Man in a Four Dollar Room He had A Thing About Machines Developed in The Nick of Time Due in part of A Most Unusual Camera That tried to turn him to Dust Back There with The Whole Truth Learned over a Long Distance Call That made him an Obsolete Man Once Upon a Time, There were Dead Man’s Shoes A Quality of Mercy in the Still Valley From The Arrival of The Passerby One More Pallbearer among Five Characters in Search of an Exit The Little People gathered at Four O’Clock To Serve Man The Gift Awaiting The Changing of the Guard Under the Midnight Sun The Bard, The Printer’s Devil Marked The Passage of Lady Anne With The New Exhibit Made In His Image aboard The Death Ship Under the Valley of The Shadow The Incredible World of Horace Ford Became Mute and Miniature Pulled from The Thirty Fathom Grave Jess-Belle reminded him There’s No Time Like the Past Uncle Simon made a Stopover in a Quiet Town He had An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge With The Queen of the Nile It was Spur of the Moment With The Masks and Black Leather Jackets The Fear came at The Bewitchin’ Pool When he heard The Night Call of The Living Doll “Come Wander with me,” he said. Ninety Years Without Slumbering made Uncle Simon The Old Man in the Cave A Stop at Willoughby A Hundred Yards Over The Rim With Person or Persons Unknown He’s Alive With A Certain Kind of Stopwatch The New Exhibit A Young Man’s Fancy A Shadow Play From The Fever And The Things I Found at Twilight

60

“You always play a female” Line stated at game night An observation of behavior No one know rings hollow I state I have reasons But do not state one “You always play a girl” So close, but so far How sad it is that my escape Is how I can feel rooted Inhabiting another just to feel at home “You always play a chick” Noted but not answered A bitter confession rise Tasting of bile, anger, and freedom “You never play a guy” I do but you just don’t realize It’s what I do every day “You always play…” You spot the pattern but not the meaning All I do, every day, is play

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Nov 12, 2024

Nov 12, 2024 at 7:51 PM UTC

alexandriablack

Closets and Characters

“You always play a female” Line stated at game night An observation of behavior No one know rings hollow I state I have reasons But do not state one “You always play a girl” So close, but so far How sad it is that my escape Is how I can feel rooted Inhabiting another just to feel at home “You always play a chick” Noted but not answered A bitter confession rise Tasting of bile, anger, and freedom “You never play a guy” I do but you just don’t realize It’s what I do every day “You always play…” You spot the pattern but not the meaning All I do, every day, is play

21

Odin, if you could possibly be so kind Grant me a bit of your wisdom Maybe it will ease my restless mind You gave your eye up for it Give me just a taste, I promise I will find A way to pay you back I’ll give you my blood, its pain unrefined Thor, please, could you help me through the storm I’m lost in the dark very far from home Could you light up the sky and illustrate its form Or let me hold the hammer Maybe all that power could help me then transform Maybe then I could find my way Out of the relentless cold and back into the warm Freya, goddess of war, help me in my fight With my inner darkness That is pouring in to drown out my light Your the queen of love And I promise that I’ll be your knight If I can love myself Any small amount, no matter how slight Eir, I come to you ‘cause I know that I’m sick Pull the poison from my soul And I’ll give you any reward that you pick Or give me the cure Tell me it slow, maybe then it will click If I’m a lost cause Give me the news, and please make it quick I beseech all of the gods, in all of their halls Can you hear any of my please Or am I forgotten outside of your gilded walls Help me to survive And I will answer every one of your calls Please tell me that you care And we’re more than your little mortal dolls

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Aug 1, 2020

Aug 1, 2020 at 8:07 PM UTC

alexandriablack

Pleas

Odin, if you could possibly be so kind Grant me a bit of your wisdom Maybe it will ease my restless mind You gave your eye up for it Give me just a taste, I promise I will find A way to pay you back I’ll give you my blood, its pain unrefined Thor, please, could you help me through the storm I’m lost in the dark very far from home Could you light up the sky and illustrate its form Or let me hold the hammer Maybe all that power could help me then transform Maybe then I could find my way Out of the relentless cold and back into the warm Freya, goddess of war, help me in my fight With my inner darkness That is pouring in to drown out my light Your the queen of love And I promise that I’ll be your knight If I can love myself Any small amount, no matter how slight Eir, I come to you ‘cause I know that I’m sick Pull the poison from my soul And I’ll give you any reward that you pick Or give me the cure Tell me it slow, maybe then it will click If I’m a lost cause Give me the news, and please make it quick I beseech all of the gods, in all of their halls Can you hear any of my please Or am I forgotten outside of your gilded walls Help me to survive And I will answer every one of your calls Please tell me that you care And we’re more than your little mortal dolls

35

I hope your crucifix burns When you grab it in your prayers May a mark be left seared upon you A symbol of the unseen scars left in your wake You wear the symbol of a god but the things you do are unholy I hope your friendship soured With the grinning imp at your side Who spews niceties as sweet as poisoned fruit The one who made first contact with your adoring follower Spreading her venom through lips and tongues to corrupt and condemn I hope you remember The bitter taste of your sins The tense embrace as you took your turn The trust you soiled, the bond you broke, the boy you defiled The forever felt impact of your soft destruction of your own flesh and blood I hope your son is safe I pray he never suffers my fate May he always just refer to you as Mother Whereas once that I called you Hero, Goddess, Cousin Now my mind has opened and I can hardly speak your name, Betrayer I hope I can hate you Your cruelty caused compassion I forget your deeds but not the after effects I loved twice as hard for each shred of shame you left Placed on the brink of darkness, I fought to keep others from falling over I hope I forget again Not out of fear or pain but peace I pray that your touch fades from thought I wish that your taste washes clean from my mouth I want to not just forget what you have done but that you exist

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Dec 19, 2017

Dec 19, 2017 at 3:51 AM UTC

alexandriablack

Hopes from a Survivor

I hope your crucifix burns When you grab it in your prayers May a mark be left seared upon you A symbol of the unseen scars left in your wake You wear the symbol of a god but the things you do are unholy I hope your friendship soured With the grinning imp at your side Who spews niceties as sweet as poisoned fruit The one who made first contact with your adoring follower Spreading her venom through lips and tongues to corrupt and condemn I hope you remember The bitter taste of your sins The tense embrace as you took your turn The trust you soiled, the bond you broke, the boy you defiled The forever felt impact of your soft destruction of your own flesh and blood I hope your son is safe I pray he never suffers my fate May he always just refer to you as Mother Whereas once that I called you Hero, Goddess, Cousin Now my mind has opened and I can hardly speak your name, Betrayer I hope I can hate you Your cruelty caused compassion I forget your deeds but not the after effects I loved twice as hard for each shred of shame you left Placed on the brink of darkness, I fought to keep others from falling over I hope I forget again Not out of fear or pain but peace I pray that your touch fades from thought I wish that your taste washes clean from my mouth I want to not just forget what you have done but that you exist

30

60 seconds to go My heart is pumping a marathon Each beat a new threat to explode Hitting me like a dozen syringes Call the coroner Cause of Death: Adrenaline Overdose 45 seconds I practice every coming moment In my mind Every mistake hits me at once The imagination humiliation Acts just like a garrote My every breath is strained Lungs burning, full of embers White out the death certificate New cause of death: Suffocation 30 seconds My flight or fight goes haywire Yet I can do neither The walls start moving This room threatens to be my tomb It is too late to fight This demise is of my own accord I want to fly Yet my wings are clipped Retract the obit I fell to my doom 15 more I hear my doom approaching It calls to me Every syllable shocks my system A jolt to remind me that I'm going to fail I shudder with every word I close my eyes, pray Count the seconds until doomsday Cause of death: Fear 10 seconds I take a breath 9 It stays 8 I stand up to face the onslaught 7 I walk toward doom 6 My breath fights its way out Only 5 Climbing fear turns to steady panic 4 more Another heart attack hits 3 Another breath 2 Out 1 I step forward The lights hit The fear vanishes I am no longer dead Alive The crowd before me resuscitates me Every line I dropped in my head Landed with precise expertise Each cue struck Every scene played to perfection Cancel the death notice On this stage I am revived

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Apr 4, 2015

Apr 4, 2015 at 7:30 PM UTC

alexandriablack

60 Second Freakout

60 seconds to go My heart is pumping a marathon Each beat a new threat to explode Hitting me like a dozen syringes Call the coroner Cause of Death: Adrenaline Overdose 45 seconds I practice every coming moment In my mind Every mistake hits me at once The imagination humiliation Acts just like a garrote My every breath is strained Lungs burning, full of embers White out the death certificate New cause of death: Suffocation 30 seconds My flight or fight goes haywire Yet I can do neither The walls start moving This room threatens to be my tomb It is too late to fight This demise is of my own accord I want to fly Yet my wings are clipped Retract the obit I fell to my doom 15 more I hear my doom approaching It calls to me Every syllable shocks my system A jolt to remind me that I'm going to fail I shudder with every word I close my eyes, pray Count the seconds until doomsday Cause of death: Fear 10 seconds I take a breath 9 It stays 8 I stand up to face the onslaught 7 I walk toward doom 6 My breath fights its way out Only 5 Climbing fear turns to steady panic 4 more Another heart attack hits 3 Another breath 2 Out 1 I step forward The lights hit The fear vanishes I am no longer dead Alive The crowd before me resuscitates me Every line I dropped in my head Landed with precise expertise Each cue struck Every scene played to perfection Cancel the death notice On this stage I am revived

71

Leather seats and fluorescent lighting Dressed up insight deigned as wisdom when it's Nothing more than cheap talk White noise that fills the time with a shallow stare Sitting with no real new ideas No experience to relate to Yet you dare to call this therapy For years I endure this I'm told that it will help He can deduce the cause of my idiosyncrasies As if being different is a disease Failing to find a way to truly help Letting this anger and frustration boil like a bitter stew This is not my therapy My therapy lies in a sea of strangers Dead center of the crowd, a clearing appears It is there I find my release Leaping in, I make eyes with a stranger Without words, a deal is made A pact that is honored for the sole reason That we understand each other We are each other's therapists Charging forward, we collide The pain numbed by soundwaves and adrenaline Like a bullet off of Superman, we ricochet Our bodies meet that of another They shove us away but it is welcome Time disappears Lost in these moments The most physical of therapies Our bodies become busted and broken The pain is welcome With each collision, each shove, we find release Anger dissipates with each bruise Each crack of flesh on flesh, bone against bone Lets loose a wave of pent-up hostility It a balloon popping with a smile This sought out violence is not aggression This is compassion of the highest caliber Complete strangers Locking eyes and saying, I am here Release your fury upon upon me Without judgement, I can assist you You place your life in this figure's hands Because they are willing to do the same You know that they will makes sure you survive And the wall of people behind you A group of people will make sure you do not fall And ask for nothing in return And once the night ends You relish the aches Every bruise is a battle scar From a war that you know is not yet over But for now, you march away Until your next session Of Mosh Therapy

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Jul 31, 2014

Jul 31, 2014 at 4:00 AM UTC

alexandriablack

Mosh Therapy

Leather seats and fluorescent lighting Dressed up insight deigned as wisdom when it's Nothing more than cheap talk White noise that fills the time with a shallow stare Sitting with no real new ideas No experience to relate to Yet you dare to call this therapy For years I endure this I'm told that it will help He can deduce the cause of my idiosyncrasies As if being different is a disease Failing to find a way to truly help Letting this anger and frustration boil like a bitter stew This is not my therapy My therapy lies in a sea of strangers Dead center of the crowd, a clearing appears It is there I find my release Leaping in, I make eyes with a stranger Without words, a deal is made A pact that is honored for the sole reason That we understand each other We are each other's therapists Charging forward, we collide The pain numbed by soundwaves and adrenaline Like a bullet off of Superman, we ricochet Our bodies meet that of another They shove us away but it is welcome Time disappears Lost in these moments The most physical of therapies Our bodies become busted and broken The pain is welcome With each collision, each shove, we find release Anger dissipates with each bruise Each crack of flesh on flesh, bone against bone Lets loose a wave of pent-up hostility It a balloon popping with a smile This sought out violence is not aggression This is compassion of the highest caliber Complete strangers Locking eyes and saying, I am here Release your fury upon upon me Without judgement, I can assist you You place your life in this figure's hands Because they are willing to do the same You know that they will makes sure you survive And the wall of people behind you A group of people will make sure you do not fall And ask for nothing in return And once the night ends You relish the aches Every bruise is a battle scar From a war that you know is not yet over But for now, you march away Until your next session Of Mosh Therapy

57

I’m standing on a ledge Fifty stories up staring at my goal My personal heaven That star that is always in front of me But just an inch out of your grasp Hanging so delicately just beyond The very tips of my fingertips I see it clearly now It is up here in the clouds, brightening the heavens All I need to do is leave this ledge Two steps One leap forward and I will Soar into the sky and reach out But what if you fall? I won’t It’s too far out of reach I’ll make it How do you know? I don’t But I’m willing to take the shot I’ll tie this towel around my neck It’s my cape as I jump Telling myself that there is an S on my chest Because I am certain that I can fly And if I can’t, if I plummet down I will find comfort Counting the seconds as I descend Because I know the ground will eventually break my fall Then I’ll climb Back to my feet Brush off the dirt and the blood Back to my ledge Re-tie my cape and focus out again Back to the air Where I will fly or fall again And until I die I will continually climb back to my ledge Readjust my broken skeleton Even though I know it will never heal Swap out my blood for ink Hoping that it will keep me afloat High in the air, moving forward And even if it doesn't I will always take that jump Because life isn’t about whether or not You fly or fall, It is all about whether you have the stones To take the leap

0

May 13, 2014

May 13, 2014 at 5:47 AM UTC

alexandriablack

The Ledge

I’m standing on a ledge Fifty stories up staring at my goal My personal heaven That star that is always in front of me But just an inch out of your grasp Hanging so delicately just beyond The very tips of my fingertips I see it clearly now It is up here in the clouds, brightening the heavens All I need to do is leave this ledge Two steps One leap forward and I will Soar into the sky and reach out But what if you fall? I won’t It’s too far out of reach I’ll make it How do you know? I don’t But I’m willing to take the shot I’ll tie this towel around my neck It’s my cape as I jump Telling myself that there is an S on my chest Because I am certain that I can fly And if I can’t, if I plummet down I will find comfort Counting the seconds as I descend Because I know the ground will eventually break my fall Then I’ll climb Back to my feet Brush off the dirt and the blood Back to my ledge Re-tie my cape and focus out again Back to the air Where I will fly or fall again And until I die I will continually climb back to my ledge Readjust my broken skeleton Even though I know it will never heal Swap out my blood for ink Hoping that it will keep me afloat High in the air, moving forward And even if it doesn't I will always take that jump Because life isn’t about whether or not You fly or fall, It is all about whether you have the stones To take the leap

48

I I have a good imagination Nay I say I have a great one Hell, I'd be willing to say it is splendiforous Not a word? I don't really give a **** because With great imagination comes brand new words A brand new vocabulary is merely one pro Just a single benefit that A great imagination can bestow There are more but the first has got to be the words With these brand new syllables and letters yet to be invented One can weave a new language A secret code in which to communicate With the six foot, broadsword wielding fire-breathing ape That you can call your imaginary friend But with a great imagination, he is not imaginary He is indeed real He sits beside you in the dark As the nightmare still clings to your brow And he speaks Just when you can no longer stand the silence He will dance in front of your little eyes Just so the dark no longer seems evil And when you stand alone in a crowded yard Because your name is linked to a fictitious disease Thought up by lesser imaginations You can still have a friend that tells you you matter Yet with this scenario comes our first con People with no understanding of a great imagination People who do not love it as they should They tell you that because your friend is not technically real That you must surrender him You must lose him and take new friends Friends that must be better because they are flesh and blood Even though, they rejected you for nothing more Than the jealousy that lesser imaginations feel And so you do Because you are imaginative, not stupid You know that to argue would mean yet another label This time the disease you earn is all too real You don't fight losing your coping mechanism You will survive I will Because I have a great imagination II I have a great imagination One might even call it amazing I would call it unstoppable Because even when it takes heavy blow It still goes on It takes the loss of that imaginary friend And it redirects Barreling forward like a wayward locomotive It promises you that you will still be ok And you believe your imagination because the lies it tells Are the kind you are willing to believe in the name of sanity You get older Keep the most fanciful of your imagination hidden Because you've grown tired of the couch That piece of hardened leather Worn fabric situated under fluorescent lights Lights, your imagination says, are there to push it away The way the suited people speak You know its right But you need to let this imagination loose You must have the release that it craves for you This is the second pro It can give you direction You focus it Control it Weave it into magnificent fictions where the oddball can win Or destroy the world, whichever your imagination prefers You feel you have your true calling This is the sign you need that you are destined For more than ridicule In the world of pages and ink, your imagination is free The big con is It is free and unbothered As long as you keep it out of sight The wolves who have been waiting to tear you assunder Those false docs waiting to proclaim you mad The enemies of imagination They will look at the spoils of your toiling and tear into it Every piece of fiction conceived that does not sit right is wrong They say it is the result of the imagination's slow sister, The Subconscious That very real disease that once threatened you returns Its teeth barred You stare into its thrashing jaws The fear you feel is unlike anything you have before But you tell yourself you will survive You must I must Because I have a great imagination III I have a great imagination It is wonderful And it is maddening Not mad at the angry screaming But more of the psychotic laughing used to cover up the crying The final con this imagination has is fear As you move on from the lesser imaginations And ignore those searching for hidden meanings in your scribbles You start to rely more on your imagination It hasn't led you astray and its lies are always beneficial So you listen to it Yet it stews in your skull You don't engage it and it grows bored So it comes up with new ways to terrify you Just so it can amuse itself It gives you pictures of the end and the blackness beyond You see the faces of your mourners You try to imagine life without you And life in lifelessness You hear about a superbug that masquerades The deadly wolf in the ill sheep's clothes The images of your imagination kick in and every cough Every sniffle Every slight wrong feeling in your gut and you crave Hazmat gear You realize that you are not the protagonist of your own story You are not the hero You are not the plucky princess or the charming rogue You are able to die at a moment's notice and are unsure of what awaits you Heaven, Valhalla, blackness or lingering You don't know and you aren't ready to find out But in this con comes the final pro Hope When you are down , your imagination comes in to console you Just like the ape from your childhood It switches the visions It stows the ones that terrify you for the moment You now can picture yourself as a success Your imagination paying off Your dreams coming true You picture that moment when you naysay the naysayers They will come and beg forgiveness Apologize Everything looks bright I can feel the wind in my face And I have the courage to finally jump I spread my arms like wings And I soar Closing my eyes to the wind I don't care if I'm falling Because I know In the deepest pit of my heart That I am actually flying Because I have a great imagination

0

Dec 31, 2013

Dec 31, 2013 at 10:28 PM UTC

alexandriablack

The Pros and Cons of Having a Great Imagination

I I have a good imagination Nay I say I have a great one Hell, I'd be willing to say it is splendiforous Not a word? I don't really give a **** because With great imagination comes brand new words A brand new vocabulary is merely one pro Just a single benefit that A great imagination can bestow There are more but the first has got to be the words With these brand new syllables and letters yet to be invented One can weave a new language A secret code in which to communicate With the six foot, broadsword wielding fire-breathing ape That you can call your imaginary friend But with a great imagination, he is not imaginary He is indeed real He sits beside you in the dark As the nightmare still clings to your brow And he speaks Just when you can no longer stand the silence He will dance in front of your little eyes Just so the dark no longer seems evil And when you stand alone in a crowded yard Because your name is linked to a fictitious disease Thought up by lesser imaginations You can still have a friend that tells you you matter Yet with this scenario comes our first con People with no understanding of a great imagination People who do not love it as they should They tell you that because your friend is not technically real That you must surrender him You must lose him and take new friends Friends that must be better because they are flesh and blood Even though, they rejected you for nothing more Than the jealousy that lesser imaginations feel And so you do Because you are imaginative, not stupid You know that to argue would mean yet another label This time the disease you earn is all too real You don't fight losing your coping mechanism You will survive I will Because I have a great imagination II I have a great imagination One might even call it amazing I would call it unstoppable Because even when it takes heavy blow It still goes on It takes the loss of that imaginary friend And it redirects Barreling forward like a wayward locomotive It promises you that you will still be ok And you believe your imagination because the lies it tells Are the kind you are willing to believe in the name of sanity You get older Keep the most fanciful of your imagination hidden Because you've grown tired of the couch That piece of hardened leather Worn fabric situated under fluorescent lights Lights, your imagination says, are there to push it away The way the suited people speak You know its right But you need to let this imagination loose You must have the release that it craves for you This is the second pro It can give you direction You focus it Control it Weave it into magnificent fictions where the oddball can win Or destroy the world, whichever your imagination prefers You feel you have your true calling This is the sign you need that you are destined For more than ridicule In the world of pages and ink, your imagination is free The big con is It is free and unbothered As long as you keep it out of sight The wolves who have been waiting to tear you assunder Those false docs waiting to proclaim you mad The enemies of imagination They will look at the spoils of your toiling and tear into it Every piece of fiction conceived that does not sit right is wrong They say it is the result of the imagination's slow sister, The Subconscious That very real disease that once threatened you returns Its teeth barred You stare into its thrashing jaws The fear you feel is unlike anything you have before But you tell yourself you will survive You must I must Because I have a great imagination III I have a great imagination It is wonderful And it is maddening Not mad at the angry screaming But more of the psychotic laughing used to cover up the crying The final con this imagination has is fear As you move on from the lesser imaginations And ignore those searching for hidden meanings in your scribbles You start to rely more on your imagination It hasn't led you astray and its lies are always beneficial So you listen to it Yet it stews in your skull You don't engage it and it grows bored So it comes up with new ways to terrify you Just so it can amuse itself It gives you pictures of the end and the blackness beyond You see the faces of your mourners You try to imagine life without you And life in lifelessness You hear about a superbug that masquerades The deadly wolf in the ill sheep's clothes The images of your imagination kick in and every cough Every sniffle Every slight wrong feeling in your gut and you crave Hazmat gear You realize that you are not the protagonist of your own story You are not the hero You are not the plucky princess or the charming rogue You are able to die at a moment's notice and are unsure of what awaits you Heaven, Valhalla, blackness or lingering You don't know and you aren't ready to find out But in this con comes the final pro Hope When you are down , your imagination comes in to console you Just like the ape from your childhood It switches the visions It stows the ones that terrify you for the moment You now can picture yourself as a success Your imagination paying off Your dreams coming true You picture that moment when you naysay the naysayers They will come and beg forgiveness Apologize Everything looks bright I can feel the wind in my face And I have the courage to finally jump I spread my arms like wings And I soar Closing my eyes to the wind I don't care if I'm falling Because I know In the deepest pit of my heart That I am actually flying Because I have a great imagination

148

This is it The end Single serve Apocalypse I'm staring into the center of a future One I can never have My wants and dreams become alight All that I cherish Ash The bite hits Infection erupts Tearing me down like an atom bomb Obliterating all that I hope to be As the light of the blowback fades All goes dark Blacker than the grave I may crawl from Empty But there's you My light The only thing keeping me afloat At least until I have to fall These final moments can be one of sorrow Or a happiness I know will shatter I stare into your eyes and words fail Cowardice So I lie Con you Pull you into my arms and simply pray That you don't smell the blood Because I know despair is coming Marked special for you You will share my darkness, so I'll share your Light A few hours That's it My time is quickly eroding My mind is slowly decaying My body will be playing catch-up Your love soothes me, bittersweet lullabye So I go with my friendly executioner who saves my soul Bang

0

Dec 11, 2013

Dec 11, 2013 at 9:52 AM UTC

alexandriablack

Final Hours

This is it The end Single serve Apocalypse I'm staring into the center of a future One I can never have My wants and dreams become alight All that I cherish Ash The bite hits Infection erupts Tearing me down like an atom bomb Obliterating all that I hope to be As the light of the blowback fades All goes dark Blacker than the grave I may crawl from Empty But there's you My light The only thing keeping me afloat At least until I have to fall These final moments can be one of sorrow Or a happiness I know will shatter I stare into your eyes and words fail Cowardice So I lie Con you Pull you into my arms and simply pray That you don't smell the blood Because I know despair is coming Marked special for you You will share my darkness, so I'll share your Light A few hours That's it My time is quickly eroding My mind is slowly decaying My body will be playing catch-up Your love soothes me, bittersweet lullabye So I go with my friendly executioner who saves my soul Bang

40