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SameHell Jul 2019
The Yellow Dress has been hung out to dry,
brown laundry twine muffle the neckline.
The black flats swung softly below,
In the distance the boy heard a white raven crow.

The Yellow Dress hangs and hangs, but the boys face must still be wet.
The boy is pretty and cold, despite his nervous sweat.
His dress soon grows bored and wonders what’s taking so long.
Time with the boy had never been less fun.

As the boy started dancing and swinging,
The dress cheered him on, but the rope ended up winning.

As he hung limp the dress grew lonely,
So it tried to smile at something friendly,
Pink fabric flowers wave hello to breeze,
But wind merely weeps and runs off to the trees.

The boy usually left the dress all alone,
Ever since his parents came home,
Until of course, today,
The dress wondered when the boy stopped being afraid.

Maybe he was done,
Done playing the game of hide, then run.
Though his parents seemed to enjoy it.
They were always laughing, especially when his skin split.

Now time has past, and they are both alone,
The boy and the dress longed for different types of home.
The dress is shivering and the boys skin is long past blue, taking over his rosy hue.
It struggles against the laundry line,
Certain it’ll get out this time.

The dress huffs and curses the body.
Why won’t it move? This stupid limp body.
The boy used to be fun and run around playing,
Now the only game he plays is called praying.

The dress looks up at the line more carefully.
How weird… it was never tied this forcefully.
The cord is twisted and oddly thick.
How come its wrapped around his neck?
To all those different and done...
Number 14 Of Story Of Our Lives
SameHell Jul 2019
The Beautiful Lie

Here I am, standing there.
Watching existence, without the weight I should bare.
I was spared from the ugly truth.
Torn from reality’s crooked noose.

He told me he did it,
He didn’t say why.
He told me he did it.
Then he said goodbye.

Out through the window, abandon the door.
Bait with something bitter, yet better, irresistible lure.
Leave behind, a ****** mess.
Leave behind, the lonely best.

He killed them he did,
I’ve heard it all.
He killed them he did,
Both short and tall.

Then when I crept, the racket was done,
He laughed and told me all for fun.
He murdered my brother and the rest in floor 19.
He murdered my brother, then ran off unseen.

He saved him for last, my 18 year brother,
Waited until after he shot my mother.
The thief spared me and I don’t know why.
The thief spared me, what a lie.

He told me he had done it all.
He told me in the late fall.
He beat the old lady, he stabbed the landlord,
He sliced the babysitter, the children so bored.

At least that’s what he told me, I know it’s not the truth.
At least that’s what he told me, the thief with one silver tooth,
I believed him, and I still do,
Only because without it, I might fall black and blue.

Off the roof of building number 3.
A bird is the best thing to be.
Forget about floor 19.
Forget about the things I should have seen.

Forget how it wasn’t his hands that killed my brother,
Forget how it wasn’t him who shot my mother.
Forget that it wasn’t him who wreaked havoc and left this world unseen.
Forget the truth and believe the lie, about the things that went on in floor 19.
SameHell Jun 2019
I never allow myself to wipe the wet away from my eyes,
just because I refuse to believe that there are tears there to dry.
  Jun 2019 SameHell
There used to be a bottle on the wall.
It was very green.
I'm sure it was the loneliest green bottle
that I had ever seen
It used to sit on the wall
all day and all night
And every day, when I looked out of the window,
it was always in my line of sight
Then one day, a cat came along.
Something was going to happen; I could tell
The cat then accidentally nudged it
and off the wall, it fell
When it had fallen off the wall
it had dropped with a very loud sound.
There were all these little pieces of the green bottle
all over the ground
Then the cat yelped
and I knew it had gotten hurt
I could quite obviously see its paws were caked in
blood and dirt
The bottle wasn't harmful in the beginning
it did not look the slightest bit treacherous
but after a nudge in the wrong direction
it became very dangerous
Now I look back at you smiling
next to me on the big armchair
Your fingers running through your soft locks of hair.
You remind me a lot
of that green bottle.
In the beginning, you were harmless
you were all sorts of fun.
Now you hurt me.
Could you tell me why
as I don't quite know what I've done
SameHell Jun 2019
Rage makes me roar my loudest.
All around me demeaning chuckles.
So I walk off into the forest.
Then I return with ****** knuckles.
Do you ever feel like you might just **** someone with all the anger inside of you?
  May 2019 SameHell
Chris Saitta
The dead lie like Rome,
Like toppled sunshine in stone,
From a boy who had blown
Into the seashell of the Forum,
Heard back in restoning, the alley of home,
The narrow, basket-flowered angiportum…
But, lips too strong, let out unknown
The stone-witherings of Medusa
And the bone dust of empire.
SameHell May 2019
June 24th was the day that I died,
Casting the line, to my mother I lied.
Standing at the edge of the dock,
It wasn’t as sturdy as I had thought.

I felt a tug at the end of my line and leapt up,
A fish that was finally mine!
The poor fish was caught and set on the floor,
I giggled and spun, then demanded more.

I didn’t notice the creaking beneath me,
The old dock collapsed, and fell into the sea.
My mouth had opened as if to scream,
But it was too late, I was sleeping never to wake, forever to dream.

If you asked me what it was like to die,
‘”cold,” is all I would reply.

It feels as if your freezing, every part of your body going numb,
Slowly giving up, realizing the struggle is done
All the while you’re awake inside your mind,
Begging to no one ‘I want more time!’
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