Forgive me soldier, I never knew
How your life was wasted in such
Tragic tears
Your youth by the roadside just slipped away
Your beauty went with you
Your poetry too.

Born to be famous with beautiful
Words
Layed out in notebooks and on
Paper scrolls.
Never married, no children born
But I have your poetry in my drawer.

Love Mary

October tastes of deception
filled with empty hearts
and empty souls
looking for a place to call home

October tastes like a man
who is all bark
and absolutely no bite
trying to impress but doing less

October tastes like lies
fed from your mouth
tongues burning on my skin
leaving marks within the dark

October tastes like
everything you truly are
and nothing you think
you are from within

i sit on the beach
as the rain comes down
from the sky onto my skin
hoping
praying
for it to wash away
all this sadness
from within

My name is Erin
and i was *****
at the age of 7

it has taken me
14 years of my life
for those 13 words to escape
my hollow mouth

the only questions i come to now
is why
why lock me in that room
why take everything from me
my innocence
my purity
my childhood

in that room
where my family trusted you
where i trusted you
the night terrors i have to this day
still haunt my mind

like a never ending
drive in movie that plays
over
and
over
only the moon in the night sky
isnt made to be found here
there is no light in these terrors

i cant sleep this time of year
because every time i do
its you
in that room
locking the door
shutting the windows
******* me
yelling at me
every single night
i close my eyes

it has taken me 14 years
to accept the fact that i was taken by you
i have been numb ever since
left in the dust
rotting away at the core
thinking i was nothing
thinking i deserved nothing
because you took everything

but not anymore
i will recover from this
i am strong enough
i believe in myself
i believe in my own happiness
and i promsie
that when i have children one day
i will never ever let them rot at the core
i will find happiness
the darkness will not take over this time

He doesn't burn photographs
He doesn't join therapy sessions
He doesn't smoke too many cigarettes
Nor he drown himself into alcohol
He scratches his wounds daily
And never let them heal
He doesn't try to get rid of the pain
Instead he let it grow on him
He waters the seed of sorrow with his tears
He feeds it with the manure of old memories
He takes it to sleep with him
And nurtures it in himself
Till the moment when every single drop of his blood gets replaced by this pain
Until his fragile heart can bear no more
And his soul starts overflowing with emotions
That's when he dip his pen into this pain
And empty his heart on a piece of paper
He bares his soul for us to feel
He creates poetry that the world would cherish for centuries to come