Creepy
Or so creepy
I wonder
What’s more creepy
His face
Or how he walks
So rigid
So horrid
It’s as if he is a puppet being controlled With wires

What do I do
He is getting closer
Eyes as red as my blood
Or more
With a head
That looks more dented
Than a crashed car
A smile filled with horrible secrets
That should never be told

Do I run or hide
Do I even have a choice
It’s Too LATE
He already surround me

Hidden faces in the snow
Bright colors make me blind
To tragic scenes of life
Going through the room
With a bit of Christ in the air

Joyful screams and relaxing teens
Dancing in a room
With each other
All is good
Then all goes slow
It is near the end
So everyone began
To find a pair
For they can fill the room with romatinc flare
Slowly but surely
Romantic but dramatic

I am alone
Who is there
Someone
With a hidden look
How I wonder
If I ask
Will she be glad

So I began to shoot my shot
Soon enough my arm was around her
And my other beside her
I wonder if she can hear my heartbeat
She is so close
She can possibly read my thoughts

As I move
She does too
As I spin her
She spins
As I get closer
She lets me

Her face is a hidden image
But she truly did finish my fantasy
With a beautiful kiss

Before I knew it
I was in my bed
Regretting my sudden wake from
My dream
Of a Masked Winter Girl

He is sick in the mind
He is terrible and turned
Toward a dark scene
He can not leave

My child is hurt
So he hurts others naturally
He doesn’t try
He just does
But here is the catch
It’s not his fault

He didn’t choose any of this
He just went through ****
That lead to this
He never tried to hurt anyone
But he did
Because he is broken
Because someone hurt him

He watches time go by
As if it’s the show he watches over time
So invested yet not envolved unless asked by the screen itself

He cries when someone dies ofcourse
He turns in bed as he remembers what he saw
He feels what he sees no matter what

The boy is me
The child who needs help
Is the inner me
My child is scared of the world
I am his cover
To shield him from the world
But keep him engage
To help himself
But please help the child from within
Myself

Short and Sweet
Bitter and long
Depends on what we believe on
A story
Or a deep meaning
To bring a spice to your thoughts
I wonder if you get my memos
Like Spider-Man on the watch

Why am I writing as if it’s important
Does typing count as writing
Probably not but that’s not important
What is
Is what next word I’m going to type
Will it be deep
Or simple
Or just a little dull like my recent ones
All depends
Am I a deep
Or a controversial writer
And am I a writer if I type through piece of glass.
To share my thoughts to history and publicity.
For a little encouragement to keep me busy.
As I’m going crazy with my school drama
And rambling of random things
That aren’t important for me to remember as years go by
But bothers me more than a Sunday night