She.
Told.
One.
Person.
_________

They promised to keep their lips sealed.
Somehow her secret was still revealed.
________

The hallway divides.
People starring, lining both sides.
*No! No! No!*
She needs to move, to disappear, to leave, she's screaming to herself: *Go! Go! Go!*
________

***** ****, **** ****, ****....They know! They know! They know!*
She's crying now, her tears are set to full flow.
_________

'You're only as sick as the secrets you keep.' Yeah, that rings a bell.
You're only as sick as the secrets you tell.
Now that one applies as well.

You are all I want, all I need.
I swear, I will beg, I will cry, I will plead!
Please?!.......Just take the lead!
.........Make me weep until my eyes bleed!

I can not proceed in such a fashion.
I long...
For your care and compassion.
I can still hear it, it is our love; its song.

I wish to never forget this tune.
If I ever do, God forbid, it will be too soon.

Hey, do you remember the night I caught you staring at the moon?
You turned and found my eyes.
"Oh why hello Beautiful, won't you join me? Hmmm...? I am watching the night skies."
"I will...Can you- I mean please..Be my spoon?"

With you? Us? Being as close as this?
I am sure that I have said before that It is all just a constant sense of pure bliss.

I want you always.
I am eternally grateful that our paths became crossed.
If they had not I would still be lost.
I love these days........

.........When you slip effortlessly into your dominant role.
When I relinquish all my power. Giving you complete control.

Take me.
Shake me.
Get me all worked up just so you can break me.

Two teens, truly smitten.
Within minutes of realizing that they did indeed harbour mutual feeling. So cruelly bitten.
We're both goners! They did assume.
Two futures predetermined, written.

At the time neither knew that Ellie was immune.
In forty-eight hours, Riley's body the virus would fully consume.

Can't
Understand
This

Someone has called my creativity into question.
Frankly I am dismayed at the mere suggestion.

I can barely concentrate.
I am beyond irate!

How can you even ******* dare?!
Who are you?
Some narrow-minded ***** or ******* with your nose in the air?
I post what I write to share. It is my choice, my god given right
no-one and I mean NO-ONE will ever tell me what I can or cannot do!

Since when was using my imagination a crime?!
Please feel free to tell me, I'll make the time.

I'll listen to your point of view.
And if it's needed I will give credit where credit is due.

Characterisation, creating a sense of fascination.
Making you stop, think, pause even just a momentary hesitation.

Wonder, frustration, happiness, anger and more. The whole emotional range.
You may find the experience unfamiliar, alien or strange.

True poetry is not restrictive.
Many can find the act of reading it quite addictive.

Poetry is unique to each and every reader.
No single person's opinion can enable them to be given the title of "Leader."

She is an amazing writer.
A Little One delighter.
And a kick *** demon fighter
When she appears my day gets so much brighter.

Her name, I have discovered, can be used as an acronym for the phrase; Sun And Moon.
When was I hit by this new revelation? Why some day during this week, maybe late afternoon.
I think that it is almost, if not, the perfect way to define what she honestly means to me. Oh how I love my nonbiological big sister; the awesome loon! :D
Seriously! I mean it guys, she is killer! Whackier than the best possible cartoon!
I can tell you guys this one thing.
When she gave me my nickname.
I felt so high, like I was standing on the tip of an inflight airplane wing. 
With a smile that just might put the Cheshire Cats' to shame.
So happy that I wanted to sing.
My heat nearly burst, as if it was an overinflated hot air balloon.

Fragile
And
Delicate
End

My oh my.
Doesn't time fly.
You blink and whoosh! Another year rushes by.

Today is the anniversary of your birth.
The day that the angels decided to pluck you from the clouds and send you to earth.

Delivered to your parents by the stalk.
The winding roads of life you now walk.

I wonder what you'll do with your next 365.
Whatever happens, stay strong.
Endure and survive.
Keep holding on. If you do that then you'll never put a single foot wrong.
I love seeing you grow and thrive.

Freedom is the trophy that many attempt to acquire.

The biggest quest along their lives' path.
Along the way, they give in to temptation, sin and desire.

They must face The Devils' wrath.
"Ye shall dance in my fire!"

Kick, punch, slap!!
Why do I always fall into this trap?

One minute everything is civil and nice. 
Next a glare....As cold as ice.
Every day is different, A chance, a gamble. Like rolling dice.

It's like walking on egg shells.
Your mood changes, it has fits and spells.

As nice as pie...
Then boom!! I have a new black eye.

Always tread lightly.
Only moving slightly.

Inch by inch.
Sometimes if I'm lucky I escape with something minor, maybe a graze or a pinch.
You love me, you say.
I know but I get scared by your "Physical Affection Display."

Yet again you have that itch.
Everything goes form "Yeah sure Sweet-pea." to "YOU *****!"
Deceitful, conniving and misleading.
Leaving me; coughing, wincing and bleeding.

I attempt to make a desperate dash.
But you're right there again, quick as a flash.

You feed off of my undiluted fear.
Something akin to a terrified baby dear.

Pinned between you and my door.
I'm knocked abruptly to the floor.
The blows continue. Several dozen more.
Paired with an announcement of a "Personality flaw."

My throat: constricting.
Due to the pain that you are inflicting.

Before I've tried to object.
Old and faded bruises. I have been given, my prompt to pause and reflect.

These "Special Gifts" I wish to return.
"Oh pumpkin, Mama is just helping you Live, Love and Learn."

See, no one really wants to know the truth.
Parents like to pretend that their family is lovely, maybe even verging on sappy.
And that everything is oh so happy-clappy.
Nobody shows an interest in the overly-quiet child, they know not of her tortured youth.

Hugs and kisses, rare.
Broken bones and squashed wishes, that is how they show that they care.

Any doctor or paediatric psychiatrist will tell you, that a child at several junctions, while growing up, craves attention.
Was it beyond the comprehension?

Mommy and Daddy just get annoyed.
So, a sad little eight year old has to find something to fill the void.

One day that shiny metal catches her eye.
Drawn to it, almost as if she were a magpie.

Trust me people, something like this does not happen when one is simply bored.
Destructive behaviours such as these, usually strike when a person believes that something within themselves is fundamentally flawed.

The repetitive action of causing friction.
It soon becomes some form of a compulsion and/or an addiction.
Encounters with Mr Knife...
Become part of normal life.

My hand hovering above him, I hesitate.
There is a glint in his eye. 
Slowly I pick him up, just feel the weight.
We always meet when I feel hopeless, he promises so much, absolution, complete freedom and yet, I cannot seem to fully accept. I refuse him; deny.

 He somewhat quells my despair.
Roaming up and down my skin.
Tending to me when I can't let anyone else in.
Arms, legs, chest stomach, especially a thigh.
To me, he feels at home there.
 Never does he question; ask why.
He's always ready; on standby.

I shouldn't still feel this way. Too much time has passed but my emotions do not lie.
People have said: "Forget her."
It's repeated time after time.
But she remains and I can't understand why.

I just can't seem to say: "Goodbye."

Often, it has been said that I am prone to over emphasize.
Today, they will not hurt me with such childish criticism, the importance of today they shall not minimize.

On this day, awhile ago.
The universe was randomly kind.
It wasn't until sometime later that I realized the enormity of how though.
Maybe the stars were aligned.

The fact that she cares.
Unconditionally so, while everyone else looks for an easy way out.
Splitting hairs.
Sam is there, ringside.
During each bout.
My goal isn't to win. I just want to make this woman glow with pride.

What gives you the right to emotionally abuse?
To deliberately mislead and confuse?

You purposely belittle and outwit!
You draw them in. Then when you've had your fill. Callously, out you spit!
Sharp words paired with throwaway looks, a simple but effective weapons kit.

Firing at will.
Oblivious to the fact you are the final straw. Leading them to take the blue pill.

Happiness is what they all seek.
Week after week.

But not me, no.
I carry happiness with me, everywhere I go.

The ones that I love, I keep in my back pocket.
Well, except when my cell is hooked up to its charger via the wall socket.

So while they continue on their recurring quest.
My happiness spreads through me, warmth filling the ***** that lives in my chest

Writing, for me isn't often a happy affair.
For you see, there is a lot of darkness up there.

I do not want to equal the sum of my mistakes.
To step back from the edge. Do you realize how much strength that takes?

Your psyche breaks.
Into minute fragments and flakes.
One can cut themselves on these spiky shards.
So don't give me an inch, if you do I'll take far more than a yard.

Some believe we’re placed, brought.
Yes, but for what? To leave our mark?
Nah, my ever hopeful brethren, we’ve all just been assigned a sinister character arc.
You see, this isn’t your story, not a brave journey upon which you must embark.
You have no control, it's simply a sadistically cruel lark.
To see how long it takes each one of us to reach our last resort.

The darkened sky has 1 million eyes.
 It knows the whats, the hows the whens, and the whys.

Down beneath, cruel deceit and lies.
 So remember to rise above, the truth never dies.

Strong
Hearted
And
Unique
Nerd
...Essentially

One sniff, flying.
With every other dying.
To abstain I am no longer trying.

I am once again a slave.
I have to simple goal, to feed my addiction.
With my family this fact constantly causes friction.
It was never my intention to cave.
And now with each score I'm edging closer to a premature grave.

Kiss me slow, kiss me deep
Kiss me until we fall asleep.
Your kiss, it encases so much passion it makes me weep.

Being with you, it is indescribable; impossible to put into words.
It is indeed far sweeter than the song of the birds.

It is my safety, it is my haven.
And you? You are my black haired raven.

You are to me, the sole embodiment of strength, of power.
You are always there, by my side hour after hour.

I am continually in awe.
Always needing more.

To be forever held within your clutches.
Even if it is just the smallest of touches.

Continuous physical contact that is what I crave.
When there is distance between us, I can still hear your voice, it tells me; "Be strong, I know you are incredibly brave."

You have shown me unwavering support and belief.
You have been there through a lot of my heartache, my grief.
To know that you are and always will be my constant, that is a tremendous relief.

I just allow the ink to leak.
Do you comprehend how loud silence can speak?

Let readers think and digest.
None shall win, nor will they lose.
Everyone will wear their own bruise.
This isn't a competition, herein there's no contest.
They must listen to their internal beat.
Let their conscience changed the direction of their feet.

The path is theirs to stroll.
It is only when one is at peace that they can seize control.
But until that day their demons will continue to scream and patrol.

Regret.
The last words uttered were ones of hatred and disgust.
Our once solid foundation rotted with lies and mistrust.
Oh, the things I would have said to you, if only I could have foreseen that last nights' was to be your last sunset.

We had a wild ride.
With a few stumbles as we went.
Mostly due to my strong opinions and your pride.
I'll always remember you by one single line: "You're right, rules aren't meant to be broken, just bent."

Sleep tight.
As I gaze up at the sky tonight.
Let your star glow bright.

Hi, I go by the name Lock&Ke;; #1139. I don't think I need to tell you that I like to read in my spare time.
As you will see I also like to rhyme.

To just simply say that I love to read.
Well that would be a very big understatement indeed.

Reading allows me to escape.
I always find It amazing that every authors' stories can be started by a single idea or prompt and then somehow a whole universe can begin to take shape.

I have never been all that good at describing or talking about myself.
To tell you the truth I'd far rather be immersed in cyberspaces' version of the traditional bookshelf.

My "friends" often refer to me as a "Computer Nerd"
I am most certainly not what I hear some people being called a "Social Sheep." If I ever have been, (highly improbable) I think I've now become detached from the "Herd."
And yes I know it's commonly known as a flock, I just wanted it to fit. Is that so absurd?

I have never belonged to any specific club, society or click.
I how can I when I'm a wanna-be Broadway or West End actress / world renowned pianist / punk band drummer chick.

Someone once called me a square peg in a round hole.
Or to use a different  analogy, socializing for me is like that first walk for newborn foal.

Meeting new people, I don't cope with well. 
From these examples you may be able to tell.

"God! You're such a freak!"
"Excuse me?! Did I give you permission to speak?!"
Y'know somethin'? You've just got one of those faces I wanna hit!"
"Hey Loser! Guess what, no-one gives a ****!"

So yeah, y'all now know why I love to read.
It makes me feel as if my soul has been freed.

Words are my sword.
Out my heart will be poured.
With your thoughts and/or comments my poetic skill will be scored.

So go ahead and read my pieces, if that is your intent.
But be warned, even I never really know what my brain will invent.

I am laying on my bed trying to blink away tears.
While you are probably out at some house party sinking numerous beers.

I should hate you.
But what good will that do?

Watching people fall apart.
Repeatedly breaking someones' heart.

I am a fool.
You used my trust as your primary tool.

I asked you why.
In response? A harsh laugh that was also dry.
Followed by a shrug. You chose then to be honest? It would have been kinder for you to lie.

I have always hoped to find the good inside.
But because of you that wish has died.
Have you committed emotional homicide?

I am dead.
Your satisfaction is complete.
Your manipulation classification? Elite.
You have shown no remorse for what you did or said.
This is it. I cannot go on. I give up  I admit defeat. 

I have been destroyed.
Cruel tactics were deployed. 
My downfall you have openly enjoyed.

So you go ahead and make a toast.
But no matter how hard you try to forget, I am now and will forever be your ghost.

Living
In
Fear
Every day.
___________________­

Continually, my heart does stutter.
My head is full of all this painful clutter.
I wish that I could draw the blinds or pull down a lockable shutter.

I know that they are waiting, in the shadows. Waiting to pounce.
What they're not aware of is that my wish is their wish too.
The doctor may look at his watch, a time he will announce. My dream will become a reality and their wish will become true.

I've been driving myself mad for years. Hearing these voices burns me with pure a panic, it sears.

I scream until I can't anymore
My unanswered pleas coming out broken and raw.

From my polluted mind I yearn to run.
I'm so very close to swallowing the barrel of my metaphorical gun.

Pain I know well.
With pain I can deal.
As the heat does radiate and the soreness does swell.
I finally begin to feel.
Yes, it has the power to bring me back but it can also make me crash and derail.
This sweet hurt will forever have me chasing my tail.
Oh such heavenly hell.

"Hey Monkey, you okay?"
I look up at the sound of your voice but I am at a complete lost as to what I should say.

My eyes are still bloodshot and red.
You enter my room and kiss the top of my head.
Kneeling just in front of me, you give your thighs a light tap.
Waiting to see if I move. Nothing. So you gently tug me on to your lap.

Again I start to cry.
"Oh hey baby, shhh I'm here. It's okay." You assure me as you continually attempt to keep my face dry.
Then I release a shaky sigh.
"Let it go Monkey...... 
.....Let all those tears flow."

"I-I-I want to-I need to leave." 
I say, wiping my face with the back of my sleeve.

"Oh no cutie you don't, 'sides I need my Cuddle Bunny..WHO! Also happens to be very, very funny!"

"I am?....
.....Y'know, you sound like Sam."
"Well ****!"
You say with a big cheesy grin.
Then you tickle my chin.

"HEY! HaHa. N-No! Stop!" I say laughing while playfully, trying to push your hands away.
"Now stay!....."

"...She's my big sis."
"Aww your face when you say her name. But yes Monkey we know both this."

We lay on my bed for a while. Then you smile.

"So?? Now that you're okay, what do you wanna do?"
"I told you."
"....."
"HaHa. Stay. Oh! And this..."

"...Can't start our day without a morning kiss"

Sleep is the devil, sleep is such a tease. Dreams a plenty. Some leave me full of hope. The others leave me empty. 
Happy endings, fun and silliness, these little shorts of pure joy, thrilling us, we are fooled by a false sense of security. Like our emotions are a toy. With every one nightmares are close by. No! Please! So now, whenever I go to bed I only shut a single eye.

You're the one that’s always there.
You don’t judge, you don’t laugh and you don’t stare.
You make me so happy. No more feeling ******.

The feeling you give me, it’s unlike any other.
It’s not like a lover, mother or a brother.

You are truly one of a kind.
Such an open mind.
You see when everyone else is blind.

You know me inside and out.
Of that I have no doubt.

You never intentionally pry.
You never make me cry.
You say: “Hey, the important thing is that you DID try.”

You always make time for me.
Whether it’s about something serious.
Or “*** I've just seen Glee!!”

I bet when you see my name flash across your screen.
You think: Oh no here comes little miss drama queen!
That or: Oh ****!! Queue the ****** teen.

You love me no matter what
With everythin’ that ya got!

Even when I falter.
Hell, you endure my alter!

You’re the light in the dark.
You're helping me reignite my internal spark.
When I say: “I think I've lost it, now more than ever…..”
You say: “No sweetie, never.”

The bond that we have formed, I will treasure.
You are my big sister Sam, always and forever.

The last time we were able to properly communicate was as far back as September.
She sent me a silly photo, I remember.

I miss her, I hope she knows.
More and more, as by time so swiftly goes.
When each day draws to a darker close.

I'm not irritated, angry or annoyed.
These circumstances we just could not foresee.
With this fact, I'm sure, she would agree.
It's completely impossible to avoid.

It can't be helped. With the situation, I will never complain.
Sadly, this has made me abundantly aware of the shadows as daylight begins to fade.
The clouds and the rain.
My world is void of all color, leaving me with nothing but shade.

My determination, my resolve.
They have both all but disintegrated. It seems that it is always the case when I need them the most this when they dissolve.

If these attributes were physical masses that could crumble similar to dust or powder.
I get the feeling that I would somehow accumulate more each time I screamed, louder and louder.

People always tell me to stay calm, think twice.
And please believe me when I say that I do listen to their advice.
Being this confused and disorientated all the time is far from nice.

I am perplexed with myself.
Maybe next they will begin to assess or evaluate my mental health.

HaHa, I can see it now. It will most likely start with the obvious  and yet highly irritating question; "How do you feel?"
My automatic and by my normal standards extremely undignified reply; "Pfft! Are you for real?"
Then at the end of that rather hostile, exchange. Up shoots a wall.
And I can not for the life of me, see how people consider this an effective way to heal.
I have never imagined feeling that small.

Case and point: Nobody can or will understand.
Because? They can never know my experiences firsthand.

So, in conclusion I will now and forever remain an enigma.
To some people perhaps I am the personification of the stigma.

The mind can be devious.
Sometimes far worse than just being plain mischievous.

Heart racing, thoughts chasing, fast pacing.
Back and forth, up and down.
From a smile to a frown.

Feeling everything – HYPERSENSITIVE!!!
Every step you take is super tentative.

Scream, shout and cry,
You can’t stop it no matter how hard you try.

“PLEASE STOP I…I...CAN’T BREATHE!!”
You managed to stutter out even though your chest did so heave.
Eyes pressed up against an already tear- soaked sleeve.

Curled up in a tight ball.
Facing a blank wall.

Knuckles white.
An external show of the internal fight.

The monster inside is dying to be let loose,
Ready and waiting to send you straight to the nearest noose.

All your muscles tense.
Your body is in a constant state of suspense.

You hear a loud knock.
Followed the unmistakable twisting of a key in the door lock  
Instinctive your head snaps up to the clock.

You turn your eyes skyward as sign of gratitude.
Knowing the physician on the other side can subside your minds’ hellishly destructive attitude.

And one simple push of that magical plunger.

You slowly start to slip into a world of unconscious wonder.
No more internal storms. lightning or thunder.

The doctor enters with a small smile.
Knowing that his next actions will bring you relief, even if it’s just for a while.

“Thank y-you.”
“Shhh…S’okay it’s what I do.”

One call.
And the house phone is angrily yanked from the foyer wall.

We all pile into the car.
Daddy's driving so fast it is, at times, hard to tell where we are.
Once we do stop; "Er...Daddy?" I ask. "Why are we at the ER?"

No reply. Mommy just grabs me roughly by the arm. Pulling me swiftly from my seat.
Not really giving me any time to properly stand steady upon my feet.

My little mind races.
It wasn't until later that I understood the concerned looks that graced their faces.

Why are they in such a big hurry?
With that thought I start to worry.

Daddy and Mommy quickly reach the reception.
Question after question. Command after command.
All responses, almost expertly vague. Are these nurses masters of deception?
The tension; I I'm barely able to withstand.
Then, some time later Daddy takes me gently by the hand.

Still struggling to keep up, I ponder aloud; "Daddy, what's the rush?"
"Baby girl please, not now. Just follow me and hush."

We reach a door.
Little did I know what lay beyond, what was in store.

We enter a room.
To the occupant in the bed, my eyes instantly zoom.

"Zoe!! Sis!"
"Hey Angel!" You greet, beckoning me to come further in.
I'm unsure, you break out into huge grin.
You attempt to sit up, from your lips escapes a dreadfully painful hiss.
"So l-little miss, do you think that you can give me a kiss?"
 
A peck.
In no less than 1 hour and 46 minutes each of my parents could be classed as an emotional wreck.

At 11:39 PM, Zoe; she was chosen.
Leaving me............................Frozen.

Nearly
Emotionally
Empty;
Drained

Today, November 18th is the date that springs to mind.
That was the day that I could only see you. To everything else I had become temporarily blind.

I walked into that room.
Now, to be fair, when I first saw you it didn't hit me like some kind of sonic boom.

Our eyes only met fleetingly, maybe just for a second.
But from the moment that my peripheral vision returned. It was as if I felt drawn to you. Something was calling me, I was being beckoned.

And then there was your note.
Simple and short. But it somehow still has the ability to make my breath hitch in the back of my throat.
When we're together I feel so light, so carefree.
That if you were to let go of me....
I would begin to slowly float.

I still can't believe my luck.
Gold, I have surely struck?

So much I want to say.
But I know your response: "Shh Monkey, I know. Okay?"
When I'm with you, time, well it just melts away.

They don't understand.
How much it means to me, to just be able to hold your hand.

To lay with you.
To 'waste' the day with you.

Love, before you, I knew not.
I thought misery was to be my lot.
But as it turns out, I've found the end of my rainbow. And I'm ecstatic to know that you are the contents of my little black ***.

Love can be kind.
Love can be blind.
Love can sneak up on you, catching you from behind.
Love often begins it's life as a collection of images and thoughts that flirt within the human mind.

Love can be big. It can be small.
Love can make you feel ten feet tall.
To others love can sometimes appear to be invisible. Nothing between the duo at all.

Love can be full of hurt and pain.
Leaving one or even both parties with horrible sensations some similar to being hit by a train.

Love for some is seen as a game.
Playing with people's hearts fills them with joy.
Not a shred of shame.
Treating you like a rag doll toy.

Love can be soft.
Making you feel as if you are being held aloft.
Like the well known fictitious lion cub
Or that you are a member of a very exclusive club.

Love can be tough.
The journey can be rough.
At some point you may find yourself asking, "I'm am doing enough?"

Love can be so many things.
But there is one thing I know for certain, love will always pluck our heart strings.

Speak not child, hold your tongue.
This is often how my nights begun.
The injuries? Well, they varied. Depending on what had transpired. A sprained wrist? A broken arm? A bruised lung?

Fight back? I sure as hell did try. But sooner or later my body would succumb. 
That night my pain receptors and nerve endings must have shut down. I then felt nothing; numb.

At first it felt like a Godsend.
I thought foolishly, that everything would stop. That from that moment on I would not have to pretend.
But alas it is yet to come to an end.
My emotional wounds still have not been able to mend.

Oh I am so desperately alone.
I want more than anything else in the whole wide world for my pain, anguish and confusion to be known.
I am so very tired. I greatly doubt that I will be able to continue this fight on my own.

I cannot take another second. None.
I must run.

And take my final leap.
Landing in a heap.
At last I can peacefully sleep

Silence scares me.
For many, it enables them to feel free.
Not me.
It makes me want to flee.

Noise is my cover, it enables me to hide from all around.
In its din, refuge, I have found.
I can listen to any noise, varying in volume. Sound.

It is my truest friend.
With sound I do not have to pretend.

If the melodies cease.
My anxiety is sure to increase.

The continuity of a sound wave.
This is when you can be sure that my mind will behave.
To any tune you could say that I am a slave.

If I do not have some form of music or backing track. 
Self esteem, confidence and control you'll find I will lack.
I may become uncharacteristically nervous; always looking back.

Music enables me to come out of my shell. 
Transporting from my internal, mental and emotional hell.

If my playlist is on, of my problems you will most likely be unaware.
I would appear outwardly, to be a normal person without a care.
If it is turned off, I would be virtually incoherent maybe even pulling out my hair.
And human contact, WHOA! NO! I simply could not bear.
As long as I'm sitting atop my sound cloud I am happy there.

All thoughts, a blur.
A string of words, a nonsensical slur.

Nothing is straightforward or simple.
Because all I keep seeing are those deep blue orbs, oh and that gorgeous dimple.

I miss you more and more each day.
I miss how you would just lean against my door and then announce your presence with a soft: "Hey."

I miss waking up in your secure hold.
Sheltering me from the cold.

I miss the many ways in which you could make me giggle.
Especially that silly eyebrow wiggle.

I miss our late night convocations.
These usually included you smiling and laughing at my long-winded explanations.

I miss watching you think.
Being apart, it just makes my heart want to sink
I can't stop re-reading the first note that you wrote, my fingertip tracing the dried pen link.

It reads: Hi I'm Lindsay,
              I'm in 26B.
              If you ever need something or just want to talk, please   
              come and find me. ***

I hate this state of unwanted separation.
It makes me feel so helpless. My current and on-going mood; desperation.

Sitting here alone.
Well, except for the continuous ringing of my cell phone.
I don't want to hear you whine or moan.

It hurts me too y'know?
One of hardest things that we have to do is learn when to let go.

Our time has gone, yes this is true.
There is simply nothing more you or I can do.

While at times we had a blast.
We didn't make it last.
But the past is the past.

Your texts say that you wanna stop by.
Just to say "Hi."
Now we both know that's a lie.
You start analyzing everything, "If....But...Babe.....Why?"

"NO! NO! NO! Please will you just stop?!"
I scream then to my knees I do drop.

You stand stock still.
As realization hits, the air develops a deathly chill.

If looks could ****. I'd be dead.
With a decapitated head.

Then you just walk away.
Escaping the fray.

And yet I hope we become friends again one day.

Inside me there lives an urge.
The human equivalent of a power surge.
I have no control over when it chooses to emerge. 

When it rears its head.
Well, people have often said that ones' temperament changes its shade.
Outsiders and onlookers should be very afraid.
"Its color?" I hear you ask; red. 

There is a transition that takes place: I see a mist.
That is impossible to resist.

It descends and sits just in front of my eyes.
This can lead to someones' demise
I thrive.
Upon my victims strangled cries.
Negativity and depressive thoughts always make me feel alive.
I love to torment and terrorize.
If torture were to become a competitive sport, I know that I would win first prize.
Screams and howls; these are my glistening moon, my burning sunrise.

I long to cause immense pain.
To create what I hope will be an everlasting blood stain.
Each and every time for my own selfish gain.

Reflection, reflection how can this be?
Who is this girl staring back at me?*

Her face full of doubt and disbelief.
Who is responsible for stealing her innocence?
Who is her confidence thief?

Her skin pale, eyes dark.
She couldn't stop herself from being fixated on one of the spots where he left his mark.
The differences in her now were stark.
She was once happy, at times even elated
Now she felt debilitated, scared and hated.

Now all she wants to do is go to bed.
Lie down to rest her head.
But as soon as she closes her eyes the dreams that she has are full of fright and dread.
The miserable nightmares unfolding in her head, make her wish that she was dead.

All the memories are still there just hanging in the air.
Every sight, sound, touch and even his god awful disgusting taste.
Every single thing left its trace.

Silence, as you stand in the doorway. 
Your lip trembles, scared that your voice may betray.
As you step toward me, it looks as if you’re a little off-balance. Your body starts to sway.

Once you’re beside me. Whatever it was that you were attempting to keep at bay. You can no longer, your frame simply gives way.
You’re stripped bare. Everything else falls away.

When you cry. It’s more like half of a growl and half sobbing-howl.

After what seems like a small infinity.
You ask quietly me.
“How long?”
Now, I know exactly what’s wrong.
I can’t answer in time, so you inquire again.
But this time you sound somewhere between the ages of five and ten.

It is my turn to struggle to speak.
My reply is so tiny, so meek.
“S-six weeks.”
You're in tears once more. Rivers slide down your cheeks.

“Oh Lindsay. Baby, stop.” I gently chastise.
Softly kissing you on the forehead. I wish to never again to see such deep sorrow swimming within your gorgeous blue eyes.

Speedy, nimble, aloof.
Little trace, no track, no solid proof.

Watch your back.
Who will be the subject of the next attack?
He has a particular knack.

A certain flare.
Loves to scare.
You can never over prepare.
You must always remain aware.
Because Lord knows he does not care.
You turn around; he is there.
You turn again; ****! ****! Where?!

Attempt to out smart?
You could try.
But I am not going to lie.
Either way you are going to die.
He is a master of his craft. What he does, he considers it an art.
The impact? Its scale? Off the chart!
Seriously, I would not even know...how to start...
The lives, the families; so many torn apart.

To find a fresh heart?

He must tear the human body asunder.
This spirit; he hides among the thunder.

Hear it chime?
Only a limited amount of time...

You know that a song is good when you remember it after all these years. 
When those notes hit your ears.
And they still bring you to tears.

The tune seeps into every single pore.
Once again triggering a memory, opening a door.
Moving you to your very core.
The words still hold their original message and yet somehow..
Now...
They mean so much more.

I have aspired to perform on stage.
This I discovered that a very young age.

Inhale, exhale.
Step out, into the spotlight.
Multiple times in a week. Night after night.
Nerves try to overtake but once again, as the curtain is lifted.
Reality, it seems to have drifted.
Somehow each and every time that I fear that I may fail.
The music starts to swell.
The final notes, I nail.
I think to myself: That went rather well.
I can honestly say the feelings of overriding happiness and pride always come flooding back when I prevail.

I wish with rapidly increasing frequency that I could stay securely within the parameters of my fantasy bubble.
So I could be safe. Far away from the terror and trouble.

When the roar of the crowd stops.
My heart drops.

Many people believe that my attitude when I am not in character incredibly annoying.
The reason for this is probably because I find my normal life soul destroying.