So many calling out for blood
who have never tasted it.
I have tasted it. It is bitter.
It smells like copper
and tastes like doom.
If they shed it, it won't wash off.
And they will never be innocent
again. If they hire others to shed it,
in their secret hearts they
will forever be ashamed
and the word coward
will  always whisper
in their ears.

As it should.

  ~mce

She weeps not for the shore
As distance creates a shadow
She embraces the current
Becoming the wave
And gently pushes her sea home

She chases not the sun
As the day is put to rest
She is the moonlight
That cradles the stars
Tightly to her *******

She yearns not
Her pain-streaked tears
That fall below her feet
She is the soil beneath her toes
Her pain now colors the tree

She worries not
The flowers' bloom
Or the leaves that fall like rain
She is the wind
That will kiss the ground
And sweep it all away

Desperate, the only word that could define her
on her face she had no make up,  but those disgusting bruises
with each bruise competing to give its story.
the one on the left cheek, shouted than that on her right hip
the one on the forehead would sure make the headlines
telling the story of her and her cruel life.

Her friend envied her, she was a friend to the teacher
she gave him her consent, coz she thought he was richer
after all was done, he turned out to be a cheater
coz experience proved to her, ''am better than your teacher.''

Her belly started protruding, nine months later she was a mother
her father disowned her, he could not live with two mothers
she was sad but happy to be free
ready to carry the title, THE FREE PRISONER.

Day one was bad,but day three and four, became worse
she had a kid to look after but in her mind she knew
she was not a qualified nurse...
''i wish i knew, i wish i knew'' that was the chorus
of her new song coz life to her was too tragic
making her broke to afford some hope.

Of all people, death knocked at her door post
and as we are talking now her child is gone
she has nothing left, but options in her head;
make an early exit from her cursed world
or become a lady of the night.

She wishes she choose the first option
because the second has make her a walking corpse
she encounter with those beasts clad in man's skin is disheartening
the last one tried to break her heart, not knowing already it was in pieces.

This is her fifth abortion that came with a secret
that only her and her doctor knows; she is positive...
she can cry no more, her tear glands are dry
this explains why her favorite movie is, 'A THOUSAND WAYS TO DIE'.

She jumps in-front of a speeding vehicle and waits for the worst
she opens her eyes to find herself on the floor
with her mother telling her she was late for school
and FINALLY she realizes it was just a dream.

I built my own cage,
                      I’m the designer of
                                     my own prison

I twisted the metal till my hands bled
working every wire into a bar
I fastened every bolt and every *****
meticulously trapping myself there

I marked you as my salvation
and the truth is you were only a
                           figment of my imagination
I controlled this place
you were not my executioner
     and I’m free to leave
              so free

but i can’t

if you asked me to stay
I would be dammed to say no

one cadence
          one word
              one syllable
    stay.

thats all the effort you’d ever have to put in
tell me that magic phrase
Ill lock this door behind me
               forever.

I'm foolish.
I'm young.
I'm stupid.
I'm guilible.
I'm disappointed.
At 18 and decided to believe he loved me just because he liked saying it. I decided because he wanted to spend his life with me I should give him a shot. I decided to compromise myself for a man that was full of empty promises. I'm so disappointed in myself, because this isn't even the first time. I'm tired of hearing the right things.

I simply want to know that your intentions are pure and that you're telling me the truth.

You’re upset but I no longer can care,
I won’t repeat my sensitivity,
Still figuring out how you love him so fair,
But life has its way of giving no pity,

I avoid the words I know you will spit,
The labor of love is truly hard work,
I’ll listen to how your desire’s writ,
As I fall back into my state of murk,

In the haze of thoughts I think of moments,
Where it was just us in the grass and trees,
There wasn’t a care of an opponent,
Except the occasional swat of bees,

My swelled heart will forever be yours.
I’ll listen to your never-ending wars.

She called. "I need a break
at least for a year."
I asked, "why?"
She told, you are
pampered me to the
extend of losing my identity,
I have lost myself in me
there is no me in me
its only you..
too much of your love
became burden and
the Cross
become too heavy to carry
In a way, I don't know
where you end
and
I begin in me..
she left after saying this
and never called..

Is too much love means
caging someone?