Death the monster of the night
When it comes for me
I will be ready.
Letters I have sent
begging to be taken away,
have gone unanswered.
My scars
my "postage fees" are useless.
Death does not seem to listen.
I cry out for death to take me away
crying so loud even my enemies notice before he does.
I starve myself
Never eating,
but feeding off of the fantasy that I will encounter death soon,
and perfect my imperfections at the same time.
Death,
a bag of bones I lay before you.
End this pain.
take it all.
When you come death,
*I will be ready

As the days go by my frustration grows.
Frustration so neglected it has taken over my life.
The want and need to write something so powerful,
so visionary that everyone will be able to relate to it on all levels.
Something so outstanding and unique it cant be copied,
or even ignored.
Not to please everyone just to relate to everyone and all things.
Living and non living.
Too much to ask for?
Most likely.
Can it be done.
Im counting on it.

The mirror always wins.
showing images you never wanted to see.
hiding doesnt exist.
the mirror holds nothing back.
violently shoving unwanted graphics into the open pores you once called eyes.
not eyes anymore.
eyes are to see with.
your eyes are brainwashed and turned against you.
burning.
eyes trained to burn through cement.
seeing every ounce of fat you try to hide.
nothing can protect you from yourself.
pound by pound.
ounce by ounce.
your eyes discriminate against you.
deathly,poison, your worst enemy.
*mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fattest of us all?

the taste of metal fills my mouth
blood seeping from broken capillaries
ive grown accustomed to the taste
lets me know im alive
just the taste though
the pain is non-existent
i feel nothing
frozen over
a heart turned to ice
in the split second it took for you to judge me
im protecting myself
you say you know me..
funny because i dont.
the taste of blood is the only thing i know
security.

Post page depression
The feeling you get after reading a poem or passage
One that touches you so deeply
You connect to every loop
Every curve
Every change of pattern in the writer’s hands
Held captive aboard ship of his imagination
Floating on an endless sea of words
Drowning yourself in syllables and sounds
Diving deeper down
Until you finish the poem
Then what do you do?
Go on rants
Seek a write that can match or even top
The emotions you felt when reading the other
This my friends
Is post page depression

Like a peacocks feathers
I brightly and vibrantly show you how im feeling
Just in hopes that you might understand how I feel.
Bright blues and greens
I showcase my colors
All of my emotions
For we are one in the same
Fear my actions will go unanswered
But no doubt in my mind you will return the gesture
Flashes of pink and hints of purple
You call back
Your colors blinding my eyes and creating a masterpiece
Nothing but a couple of peacocks.

I lie on the floor
paralyzed in utter disgust
my mouth moving silently
for the words aching to come out
you know.
your mind intertwines with my own
your ears traveling through my brainwaves
listening
always listening
for what i think
you know.
You know dislike cannot compare to what i feel for you.
For what you did to me.
what you took from me.
convinced me to give you my childhood.
sealed the deal with a kiss.
the kiss of judas.
why sound like a broken record
repeating your violations against me
only to let you relive them.
why do i bother.
for what i think of you,
what you did,
you know.