You know
you're aging
when silence
becomes a major
part
of your
presence

I (in) fell
and melted
under pressure

                                             I fell (out)
                                                                ­and was reborn
                  then I stumbled
                                                        ­     on a pebble
                                  and fell
                                                in
                                                           again

If you saw
yourself
in my lines
then
yes,
that poem
was about
the
fictional
you
in the eyes of a
Writer

If only
I was able
to follow
my own advice,

There is a darkness in me.
I think most people see it in my eyes,
a wolf with no disguise
on the hunt
always.
Don't you dare move too suddenly.
My teeth are sharp and my wits are quick.
I'd sooner tear out your throat for speaking
than to listen to what you have to say.
I'm ruthless.
I hide in shadows of the natural dark
only coming into the light to claim my prey.

There is a darkness in me.
I have a reptile brain
driven by id with hardly a superego.
I can barely control myself sometimes.
It takes all of me not to take all of everything.
There is a conscious somewhere.

There is a darkness in me.
A cold, calculating void
that plans and plans and plans
and executes
you and me both
without a word and without a sound.
My actions speak for themselves:
I am a dagger in the night.

I may have been born this way,
a combination of my father and mother's genes,
or I may have been molded,
driven to conquer out of necessity and hardship.
I don't know,
but this is who I am.