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Mozalios Feb 2017
Lips of deceit
  Bleed lies
Behind each word
She speaks
  Feb 2017 Mozalios
Shyanna Ashcraft
The crowd watches, crying silently.
Three figures gather around a black coffin with a red trim.
They all lay a gentle hand on top the shining surface.
Tears fall down their faces, not for the first time.
They all move to their rightful places on the stage, the fallen brother in the center.
They start playing a set, dedicated to the Killjoy the world though would never die.
As the first note to “Welcome to the Black Parade” is heard, people begin to break down.
They play the cheerful songs as well, though they aren’t as much.
They’re crying as the memories of life with him swim through their heads.
“NaNaNa,” plays in a slower way.
More of a painful cry for the moment.
They struggle on, through the songs, each remembering how it felt to play together as a family.
Each feeling that it’s different now, it’s not whole.
And as the last song came to be played, they all remembered their band’s last concert.
People became hysterical, as “Famous Last Words” plays on.
Citizens across the globe cry, as they say goodbye to their hero.
And as they all watch the casket being lifted and carried down the aisle and to the hearse, they all, united as one being, whisper quietly, “…so long and goodnight…so long…and goodnight…”
And as people all around hug each other in a desperate attempt to comfort and be comforted,
One person smiles.
He’s there, though they cannot see.
He wipes their tears away, though they cannot feel.
He tells them, “It’ll be okay,” “He’s here,” and “They’ll see him soon.”
They do not hear.
But deep inside they know he’s there,
Smiling bitter-sweetly as he wipes their tears,
Hugging them, as he whispers words of comfort,
Because they all secretly know,
That a Killjoy Never Really Dies.
Written 10-26-24
Mozalios Jan 2017
I'm confined to these narrow thoughts in my mind
Trying to hide behind a smile
While my heart feels shallow

Not sure if I could love again
Since my past is a blood bath
Of the pain and suffering
I succumbed to in silence

Emotions left cold
Buried beneath stone
Of a man whos scared
That there will never be anyone who
Actually cares.
Rough draft song I'm writing
Mozalios Jan 2017
With a voice, so silent
She screams
Only hearing
Tears.
To Celebrate the new year. Here's a new poem.
My book "The Dark, Poetic March" Is finally available!
(Can't post links)
on Amazon and Creatspace
  Jan 2017 Mozalios
mars
This is what heartbreak looks like.

It is the soliloquies you wrote to him at midnight while crying

It is the formality a smile and the absence of warmth

It is the nausea and the ***** because this mornings breakfast just didn't have the heart to stay with you

He didn't either

This is what heartbreak sounds like.

Silence
Breaking
Static

This is what heartbreak feels like.

The burn of your concerned friends eyes into your back

The burn of the shame tinging your cheeks red

This is what heartbreak is.

You
Me
But not us

Never us
#1 of a set I'm writing
  Dec 2016 Mozalios
Tianna Jacquez
I should have listened when you told me bad people exist.
I should have listened to you when you said no one is going to be there forever. Because people leave and don't return.
I should have listened when you told me that when the damage is done, don't go back and try to repair it.
Because i've tried
Many times  
And should I have left the broken alignments the way they were perfectly damaged.

You taught me that it was okay to mess up.
Even though your parenting flaws came here and then, you provided what was necessary for a child
and taught me life lessons no average school teacher ever could.

You taught me how to love myself when I was broken.
You showed me that I had intentional beauty because everyday you'd see me you would say, "I have a beautiful daughter."

I used to think that line was wired into the brains of our mothers.
As if they were required to tell us we are beautiful
No matter how we believe we are.

We all have beauty.
And my mother taught me that.
She taught me how to love
And represented what I would call,
the most important piece of the puzzle.
Because without her, I would not exist.
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