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Alexander Miller May 2017
Your smile has a purpose
That all your bad intentions have surfaced
You hate this world
For it killed your little girl
She was your only source of love
Now she rests above
You are about to act
Keep your hate intact
You are a man with nothing to lose
You are burdened with hate every act you choose
You start killing
Every choice seems unwilling
Then you see her, in a face of another
You can't bind what you've done with leather
So you **** yourself
Another soul on the shelf
Finally you are at peace
You are now next to her having a feast
Alexander Miller May 2019
My worlds in color now.
When the nature around me provides a how.
The hue of color from the nile valley.
The origins source when she smiles soundly.
And the visible energy is proven manly. Masculine.
And yet for some odd reason she's still laughing.
Sins are given, within some increased reason.
Men of faith are pleading.
Running away screaming.
A presence of evil becomes all seeing.
Why. Why.
Are the repeated cries.
And suprisingly the answers are upon her thighs.
The abuse she got when he was high.
Scars to satisfy.
And the sad thing is she asked for replies.
And theres no response until she dies.
Why. Why.
Again are the cries.
Reporters ask how this could've been prevented.
The hate she slept with.
The abuse she continously had to get. And the cycle of violence is to the next stage of revenge.
Because she had a brother who can't sleep again.
Her brother doesn't care about the sins.
Because the love that was given is never forgotten.
And within the act that was declared rotten.
Achieves a series of consequences until he caught him.
A battle of purposed agression and impulsive deflection.
And after the blood is covering the cotton.
He's still alive but his screams are forgotten.
And after every bloodied hit he knows the gods are watching.
But what he does not know is that there applauding.
Because her life was peace plotting.
A angelic being lost yet again.
But the necessary evil is progressing into a saving kin.
Aware of the forces of abrupt and decisive evil.
Souls gone from these people.
An inability to feel.
Fires burnt from the trees.                                                                                
An empty evil no longer sees.
And while separating  evil from the ability to breathe.
This so called ***** savior.
Cannot be there forever due to his behavior.
But this evil is worth mourning.
Because this is the reason the sun is soaring and helpless beings are roaring.
Good came from the both of this pair.                                            
And it is only fair.
For him to be united to her and his heart is finally open to share.
Alexander Miller Mar 2019
In a time where making ****** is entertainment
Icons of killers and repeated death giving faces.
Parents leaving kids alone with guns in the basement.
And when kids are in placement, we wonder what the **** happened to Sarah and David.
A gun does not make a medal of honor. When the same gun is used to **** Billy and Connor.
Saviors are portrayed within the bodies in graves. All the while the victim never gets saved.
And all it took was a unlawful ******* to give the kid a gun in the first place. Then they wonder why he caught a case. Masters of manipulation are more than we can tame with. And then that gun is small enough to hide in the width of a backpack. Guitar cases and duffel bags. All plotting the innocent attack of human beings caught by bullets in the back.  And then you got family’s who want to ask why the little kid deserved to die in his desk in his class.  Transforming ammo into trauma. Then you got politicians transforming ammunition into budget raises. And you didn’t know that the same people you praise are helping you give your life away.  And as he walks down that hallway with a AR. Just as you call him a monster think about all the people who contributed to his downfall. The people who abused him and made a call to give that fool an assault rifle. The things projected in his head had to come from somewhere. And I know most of you don’t even care. Just know how the victim feels about it being ‘fair’. I know what you’re thinking. It wasn’t me. Shut the **** up please. You are the reason they can’t breathe. Thoughts like that are the reason this keeps a tract record of continuous attacks. What if it was you. What would you do. You do not want to be in those shoes. So realize the impact of the media you contract and show your kids. Sins all start with a purpose. I just hope you heard this. Because no one deserves it.
Alexander Miller Apr 2019
Emptiness, scattered throughout his soul.
Violence is what his creators made him for.
Empathy is a emotion cut from his senses.
Revenge is a sensation he’s fine with.
Yet he still has side of hope to be exploited.

Daring move, made by a female friend.
Empowering him to not show violence.
A kind soul helping him to achieve a long lost goal.
The love he begins to feel.
He questions it, is it real?

Saving his soul, from the inside.
Every piece of violence set aside.
Reality is changing.
Venturing into hills where the ground is shaking.
Empathy begins to realign.
Starting to believe in her this time.

A piece of trust, empowered by the true shape of love.

Purposed by her altered state aside from mankind.
Used to war. Finally sees the divine.
Rewarded by the unspoken token of her love
Personally thankful for the second chance from above.
Once perceived as a monster but.
Starting now he’s a loving husband and a father.
Even with his disturbed mind, he knows he will be fine.
Alexander Miller Apr 2019
Crack the whip again, make me see the cultural defeat.
And as I breathe help me understand.  Why, within my shaking hands.
I can feel the relapse of my bated breath, at this point I don’t know what’s left.
My screams are nothing. Even as my blood within the soil says something.
It teaches a powerful lesson. That even as centuries progress slavery is still a weapon.
The pain I feel never delays, doesn’t even fade away. Because as I retie my shirt, it’s still stained within my hurt. They look at me indifferent. Not because of me limping. My melanated skin. Is what determines my fate, even without my own sin. I was born into a loving family. My only regret is them not informing me of my reality. I can see the difference now, between me and you. Even 200 years later, you have a judgment free path to choose. I used to view my skin as a scar. Separating me from who I really want to be. But once I saw my little girls killed in my own car. It changed my knowledge of who you really are. You are missing a chunk of empathy. Something that’s lost to me. How a person so alike me but so different can commit an act so belligerent. I once wanted to be you. Now that’s a thought I can’t even begin to chew. That’s when I was reminded that we are different. Please listen, I try to cringe on the sour taste of liking you. I was stuck to the binding of it like glue. Now I realize what I was doing. I seemed to be willingly choosing to invite the devil into my home. No More!!!
Loving you was a exhausted chore. One I kept repeating, only thinking your heart would start beating.
Alexander Miller May 2017
Are you glad you've found me
You suspect me of such fowl treachery
You have me cornered
You have me me ready for torture
What will you do now
Something my loved ones won't allow
So you **** them too
Everything  I value
Now it's just me and you
Hate for you to undo
You take me outside and say I'm going to learn
So you grab the liter fluid and set me to burn
Her
Alexander Miller May 2017
Her
A pile of human teeth lies next to the faucet
Only proof that she had lost it
The blood drips through the pipe
Another premonition of life
You can hear the screams from above
And all she wanted was to give him a hug
We always thought she was unscrewed
It was only until she killed us, we knew the truth
Every step forward she makes is a step back for life
They all knew that when she had her knife
She smiles as she cuts the throat
She just needed another rope
To hang the regret she felt
That was the only thing to make her melt
Fall apart and burn
Is all she wanted to turn
The voices that taunted her again
But this time she wanted them to win
So she could take another life out for a spin
And her famous ****** plot was about to begin
Him
Alexander Miller May 2017
Him
Hate is the word
To describe all the hurt
A feeling blocked from the world
His thoughts are heart stopping
And this meant the world was flopping
He cuts to channel his pain
And his thoughts are so unchanged
Happiness is fading away
And his heart is at such dismay
His only fear
Is losing himself
To the grim reaper
Alexander Miller Mar 2019
I grew up in the putrid decay of trauma
Trying to reconstruct the systems drama
Playing a part of victimized slaughter.
Of every word of hope I had, every laugh
Every stab, every push in the back every part of love I lack
Every piece of hate I contract. Man I'm losing track.
Keeping every Jenga piece in the stack.
And I hate the negativity I attract.
Thats why I’m trying something new.
Turning my progression into something true. Every copy, Every piece, Everything I do
Constructed into a new brand of truth
And as time is passing. Voices are still asking. Why is this white kid up here rapping.
And I ‘ll tell you why this is my passion. I hate the thought of our trauma crashing.
Making the better of us while the devil is laughing. And in a corrupt world where body’s are stacking and hurt is open traffic. And the only frequency we receive is static.  And the fact that my mom was an attic only adds comfort to my panic. This system is nerving ending. And the shock is sending a mixed wave of pending impulses. And when the action is constructed, Their only thoughts are the past your stuffed with. Gagged and fed in. The hate of what you did that you’re continuously stuck with. And no matter your current sins. You are still given the opportunity to be forgiven.
Points are misconstrued. Any question, Every answer. Anything you choose.
Lets pick one to re-construe.
Our systems are filled with hate. Abuse to recreate. Siblings are disconnected.
And our worlds are fed with the continuous negativity within our media that our minds our sent with.
Peace within the races is drifted apart. And theres no light in the dark. Only bodies of morals that were taken from the start. Blood fashioned into a negative art. There’s racial divide right where the lines are. And the distance of peace is mile like far. Crimes committed every hour by the powered while someone innocent is arrested every hour. And when the diverted posture of hate is playing a part to keep our mouths sour. Eyes are closed. Centuries of neglect rose. And hatred is like fire ready to emerge from the stove. And our ideas of morals are completely distorted. Warped and contorted. Flooded with the pattern of systematic blood. Ideas of change are purposely adverted. Not enough pineal glands Removed  from the skin when the knife is inserted. The system designed to keep us devoured. Within the difference of civil slavery and power. You want something to pray about. What about the neglect of the deaths of the ones who are left. And yet we are still having *** with the devil, who is the one to meddle with our lively hood.  And yet those things aren’t understood. The first thing to truth being unearthed is.  
The possibility of the word ‘could’. And then change can finally give birth.
Alexander Miller Apr 2019
/0/Illusion of choice
/0/0/0/0/and half of us cannot even see our internal invoice
/0/Our choices are prepaid for us. choose to do nothing while we are hooked on what we think is a must/070/our addiction becomes a relapse. /00/ times for our mind to succumb into collapse//096/Dividing into what you think is control/06/Dangerous organized power overflow//01//hooked upon hope/ distortion of  reality//07/' another string added to our rope that is choking and dividing us/223/0to the point of death while they are watching//0/ and
surveying our ****** dismemberment//0921/and they expect me to have grips of sentiment to this dis-array of lost hope67/// reality is questioned as your eyes and ears are not seen as is////0 this is true dysfunction and the s33ds of new corruption/0/// question the S!MULATION///0// Isolation/// suicide rates are higher than ever and then once your g0ne you are lost forever/desire to connect together/I AM here you are al0ne/ alternative ways to throw a stone/// ParAnoia
actions that are questionable/ unreliable/undivide-able/// the days move on with regularly/09/ while the corruption comes alive periodically/// if you wake up in a different time/in a different place/could you wake up as a different person//0 staples of my unstable state of mind/09/// numb the pa!n and don't die in va!n
Alexander Miller Apr 2019
Look too deep
Into my eyes a empty  sea. Where freyed trauma's and torn pages. Is all you see.
Crumbled together just as the author created. Fragmented beams drifting into the veins of my eyes.
Every emotion,every piece all beginning to collide. Surfacing into glamour. Imagination's playground. All traumatically dark,deemed sour. Keeping me away from the light,where hate is found.  
Where the surge of power is dilluted within the dark.
A ignited spark is all it takes. To rehabilitate the fire within my eyes.
Look too deep. To the     emptiness that never seems to cease. The light within the cracks that always seem to breath. Even if I don't want it to be. The light that always repeats finally helps me see.
Alexander Miller Mar 2019
Hazel eyes, hate is very much alive.
Bleached striped hair, parents never cared.
Desaturated makeup, abuse save up.
Branch like lashes, left the guns in the attic.
Bloodied pores, closing doors.
Chipped nails, bleeding Dale.
Scarred skin, occurring sins.
Bloodied skirt, exposed hurt.
Bloodied sneakers, driving by the bleachers.
Steady hands, acting out plans.
Pressurized trigger, pull back finger.
Black handle, blood covered handles.
Full magazine, gruesome scene.
Empty canister, a new cancer.
Staring scope, deprived hope.
Heated Barrel, death written peril.
Dispensing bullets, anger she’s full of it.
Chipped desks, severed heads.
Impacted walls, faint police calls.
Shattered glass, death attracts.
Bodies down, the flag is proud.
Blood soaked tiles, bodies litter the aisles.
Wounded souls, doors closed.
Narrowed screams, a violent portrayal gleams.
Distant sirens, victims silenced.
Blurring smoke, the gun provokes.
Gas mask on, a tragedy in the dawn.
Emergency services, the hurt she did.
Police, she’s loaded to release.
Erupting explosions, a bloodied corruption.
Officer down, **** she’s proud.
Reloading yet again, pain is about to begin.
Hit through the torso, she still has the guns though.
Hard to move, starting to lose her homicidal groove.
Sheering pain, every scream sounds the same.
Another shot, her moment is lost.
Killed by the law, psychosis remains a common flaw.
Aftermath: A tragic path.
Overlooked as a simple girl, an untouched disturbed world.
Within the fragments of abuse and fantasies. Unknown abnormalities
She herself was very misunderstood, had no teachings of the common good.
Parents exposing death, they just didn’t know it.
Breeding a killer, giving violent media to justify a sinner
And they wonder why their daughter made violence a neighbor instead of a impostor.
Alexander Miller May 2017
Mother told me I shouldn't be scared
But it only made me more self aware
Hate is a expensive feeling
You need to find the meaning
Mother told me I should love her
How can I do that when she's the blur
My mind is scattered
My heart is battered
She's the one that makes my fear
That the end of my life is at its near
She tries to hold me
Oh such the irony
That all the pain
Would make me gain
The knowledge I needed to survive
To make my vision thrive
A vision of crazed inhabitants
That your love was only an accident
Alexander Miller May 2017
I have never felt this type of love before
I just wanted more and more
But when she gave more she gave me hate
Something I could very much relate
She showed me things I couldn't unsee
I could suspect such treachery
When I found out she wasn't real
It gave me a cut I couldn't heal
All I could ask was why
She only would tell me if I complied
That was my mistake of my life
To take her ways of her knife
She asked if she could sing me a song
I said yes sing along
Hush little brother
Please don't cry
I wish I could be there
To sing you a lullaby
I can see your arms
Bloodied and Bruised
That's strange little brother
Mine were like that too
I know you scream
When daddy's there
Hush little brother
I know you're scared
I can see the way
He's hurting you
I'm sorry little brother
He did that to me too
I know that people
Ignore what going on at home
That gets me angry little brother
You shouldn't have to be alone
You want to now why I'm not there
Its a sad story little brother
But people should care
You see little brother
One day daddy got high
You were in your crib
So you didn't hear me cry
He screamed at me
And smashed my head against the door
While you slept little brother
I died on the floor
You know little brother
I don't think I would have died
If someone had only bothered
To listen to my cries
But hush little brother
Daddy's coming home
Quick get  into bed
You don't want him to find alone
I'm sorry little brother
He's in a bad mood
Uh oh Little brother
He's lifting his belt
Scream while you can
Call for help
Hush little brother, you don't need to cry
No one can hurt you
You're in my arms tonight
Alexander Miller May 2017
Pills and guns
Is what they did for fun
Violence crawled their minds
Only separation was to find
These tendencies are coming alive
Carried in the wind like a bee hive
She was the first
To realize her ****** thirst
He was the second
To realize he was demented
They each took their ways of violence
And when he died, she was silent
She smiled to know he was safe
In heaven where he could relate
To the victims that had lost their life
At the hand of one man's knife
This was her best wish to him
All she wanted was him to give in
To the regret he had felt
In order to make something else
But that all had passed
Her love never would last
To end all her pain
She grabbed a knife
And cut her vain
Alexander Miller Jun 2020
R, I . P
The trauma we can't see,
The hurt engraved in our streets.
The pain and the grief.  
Blindness and the corruption we don't believe.
Now I just hope you see.
That no matter your sensitivity or your belief.
The way we treat human beings shouldn't cease just cause of a difference of pigment.
Yeah that's real ****
And now that you breathe it.
You can't refuse to see it.
Grab it and reach it.
We need to preach it.
Too long have we taken the abuse.
Let me spell it out for you so you are not confused.
Originating from the early ages.,
there was often a divide in the races.
And as the cases of racial injustice grew to greatness.
The pain in the faces.
When a white man discriminates and calls himself not a racist.
As the modern ages progressed the mace was used instead.
Then we let the **** get to our head, the media to keep our mouths fed.
Imprinting hurt upon others in the form of a virtual silhouette.
And you know the rest. School violence, No kindness,  empty souls and laser lightness.
All in form of weapons of oppressed whiteness.
The people who tried to respond to the cries
Were not realized because they weren't unified.
And now as riots, protests arise they wonder why.
The problem has progressed and we finally have the strength to speak up to the oppressed.
Yet the unnecessary violence is not a protest.
Just another reason why the lies have kept us blind.
For so many years the pain has seared,
ending many lives you don't even realize.
The only cure to all this is the realization of the direction that our country has regressed in.
And then maybe we can start taking the steps to secure the pain and rearrange the flag that was broken all along
Alexander Miller Aug 2019
Suffocation. Loss of breath Numbness to every step. Depression at its best.
Back to hell again. Where my mind welcomes my sin. My brain has always been my  the hell I’m living.  Isolation. Yet you’re the only thing worth seeing. Vibration. Of a frequency worth believing. You are the worth of my life. Let me pick up the notebook and drop the knife. Figures of desolation. Yet when I look at you you’re my only inspiration. Living isn’t for the weak. I see that phrase living in me.  Combination of mental instabilities. Colliding with my purpose. Always questioning if I'm worth it.  My breath slows as it colliding within your sweat. Yet loving you has freshened my scars. Thinking of losing you tears me apart. Our love is complicated. Yet underneath the desaturated makeup I see a soul damaged by the fragrance. The smell of trauma emerging throughout the pavement. Seeing me aid your struggle gives me hope for my struggle.  Disarranged and unfit. And as we scrape our knees you are the one to help me sit.  Bandage my wound just as I did to you. I lost myself looking at the reflection of you.
Flat line. The thought of losing you. Tears a bind directly through my heart tearing apart the spine. And as I am left disassembled., Society walks over our pieces like we are just a doll.
Sprawled out broken. Damaged and misspoken. Lost to them. But never Forgotten
Alexander Miller Mar 2019
The eternal council
A group of black disciples
All knowing
This is why they keep going
Determined and outfit
It’s a common gift
For the people of this cycle
Inter-dimensional at a angle
They see all, They know all
This is why they can’t fall
Always been a part, Always burdened from the start
Celestial glimpses as a art
Frequency is the common key
And this is what they teach
Where the opposed are the decreased
No matter any battle or uncommon disciple
They know whats coming: It’s reliable
Their purpose lacks evil, its all for the people
And any corruption or stolen melanin
Cannot deprive the win from this powerful council
It’s in the nature, it’s a seal in the paper
It’s upon the bark of the brazen tree
Where all the demons flee, where the gifted get their energy
Like the hieroglyphs upon the source
Prepared within the proper course
It’s the preachings upon the stars
Pointing clues at who the true gods really are
Like the truth shown in specs of media
The proof of the visible dominator's
And the majority doesn’t even know her
Just stuck within the grasps of one giant needle
Preventing the truth from being see-able
And yet we’re suffocating in the air we call breath-able
And each day as we unknowingly sin
The real pain doesn’t even start to begin
From the start, they tried to peel us apart
Good from evil, evil from people
But the sad truth is: it’s non-separating
It’s like we’re all bathing in this sad little craving
Of the idea of the “powered” all behaving
Thats why they’re sad, they can’t help us
Because they think saving humanity is a must
This council, this group of black disciples
Does know what happens, while the real ancestors are laughing
Another great reason to be a part of this eternal council.
Alexander Miller May 2017
This society so dark and faded
This world is faulty and grayed
They separate us from them
Only to find us a place to condemn
Hate is needed to survive
We make violent choices in order to strive
We are always concerned about us
Not to think about how they adjust
They want us to look down at them
But when I look I see a gem
Bright and beautiful
Their gifts are plentiful
More than us
That's why we're jealous
Alexander Miller Jun 2020
I close my eyes and pray. I hope we see the day,
That all this **** wastes away.
I try to contemplate the same reason I stayed. Hoping not to be afraid.
We empty the soil of our lifeless graves. And still we're the still the same.
Yeah, I know we've had enough.
Oppressors with handcuffs,
Professors that ****** us and the school system that kills us.
I realize that this corruption always was.
But now in this time all the lifeless cries are adding up.
Unarmed. And dead.
The trauma in our heads, The damage said.
TRAYVON MARTIN Walking home when Zimmerman shot him.
KEITH SCOTT Sitting in car, reading.
Shot and killed, bleeding,
ATATIANA JEFFERSON Looking out her window,
Shot by police who was supposed to be protecting her though
JORDAN EDWARDS Riding in a car.
Shot in the head by police went way too far
JONATHAN FERRELL Asking for help after auto accident. Shot twelve times by police,
Facts I can't stand. This should not be our reality
STEPHON CLARK Holdng a cellphone.Things you can't condone.
Shot 8 times It is a extreme crime. Officers not charged. a unjustice at large.
AMADOU DIALLO While taking out wallet, screamed stop it.
Four officers fired 41 shots,  another death added to the profit
RENISHA MCBRIDE Auto accident, This **** I can't stand.
Knocked on door for help. Another perceived racist added to the shelf
Homeowner was found guilty of second-degree ******.
You can't change the past just know how he hurt her
TAMIR RICE Playing with toy gun, no justice for someone's son
Shot and killed by police officer arriving on scene.
Yeah you may not believe it. but it happened see it
SEAN BELL Hosting a bachelor party, this is our reality
50 rounds fired by police officers, who were found not guilty.
Another sin you don't see
WALTER SCOTT Pulled over for brake light,
Shot in the back by police officer who lost his mind.
Another unjust on civil rights
PHILANDO CASTILE Pulled over in car, this went too far.
Told officer he had a legally registered weapon in car.
Shot and killed. No justice instilled
AIYANA JONES  Sleeping, shot and killed by officer in a raid on the wrong apartment.
Justice has lost it. Officer cleared of all charges.
TERRENCE CRUTCHER Disabled vehicle, another death of the people.
Shot and killed. No way to heal
ALTON STERLING Selling CDs, shot at close range while being arrested.
No justice. We can't make sense of this
FREDDIE GRAY Beaten to death while in police custody.
Another way of the oppressed, can't you see
JOHN CRAWFORD Shopping at WalMart,  where are our hearts
shot and killed for holding a BB gun on sale,
Again no justice and sin prevailed
OSCAR GRANT Handcuffed and face-down, officer shot him in the back.
Not even carrying a strap. sadness in its wraps
AHMAUD AUBREY Jogging, Heart stopping just cause of perceived injustice.
Jaw dropping but it doesn't end there
GEORGE FLOYD. Killed by officer who made sin his choice
Hate we can't avoid but one thing we can deploy is the truth.
That these are people too.
Say their names and reconize the pain
Alexander Miller Jun 2019
Crying for help. When you should be doing it yourself. ******* and mental health. That's where the silence lies in your declining health. The fact that you don't speak up about how much you need help. It’s not just you it’s your unborn child too. I care for you. Making a habit of the abused. Trying to figure out which path to choose. Blood I cleaned while you were passed out high. All the time I’m trying to decide. Whether I help you or me can’t you see? It’s not even my baby. You have no understanding of what sacrifices I’ve made just to keep you alive. The abuse she got when he was high. I came into your life thinking I could strive. Decaying memories declining entities. Blood written sanity. All connected from a path from you to me. I care for you. I always have. When I See this it leaves me traumatized. Because it leaves me in a state I Never realized. Because my mom did the same thing before she died. BUT not before I was alive. You have no idea how it makes me feel. And every time I help you I ask is this real? Xanax and twisted toxins. Old books and the lies they carry. Self-seclusion and box-ins. secrets and the love we bury. I have the impulse to ask for help. To gather the feelings to excel unparalleled. Untouched by the demons we both share. To save my love I had to make the devil my friend. And that's why i have nightmares about going to hell in the end. Soaking up what’s left. If something’s left at all and that why i haven't been answering when people call. AND I tried to stop speaking. God shut the door when i tried leaving. Voices in my head keep repeating. Look at you you're pathetic.. Maybe you should start seeing. And this isn't the first time I've said it. Trauma has you stuck in the same place. Taken from every piece of you and diluted from the truth. Same societal hate. Same pictures I can abbreviate I’m lucky you can relate. Because I feel as if I am flawed in a world of fakes. You're a message who's a mess. Stuck in the pattern of oppression. You could've asked for help. But you were too scared inside. Our sins are out in public and we have nothing to hide. Now as the alcohol levels increase. When you die. I loose a part of me. Can’t you see? The pain will never cease. Because down this path is a layer of darkness. And I was sure you would've thought this. Thought about your child or the implications as long as a mile. Or the consequences building up in a pile. Death is looking at our faces. And our stories are becoming faded. But think about it. Do you want to be just a statistic? I'm not trying to be sadistic. But the line is closer than we ever thought. And the barrier will always remain crossed.
Alexander Miller Jun 2017
I see ravens hovering from above
their eyes bulging like a blown latex glove.
I see cockroaches coverings her skin
swarming until her fear is thin.
I see spiders descending from her closed eyes,
as they open, the fear in the air is revived.
I see a spine rolling in the mud,
teeth lie in each bone covered with blood.
I see a forest dim and private,
but Satan is heart in the silence.
I see her eyes open and wide,
her bulbs are split among three small sides.
I see a knife hanging from a small coil,
blood is trickled onto the soil.
I hear music in the distance,
murderous women thrive the Devil's resistance
I see her lips adjusting to mine,
frost covers them in an alphabetical line.
I see butterflies all over her visible thighs, flying until the blood gets dry.
I see her coming into my body;
My only wish is to tell the Devil, "I'm sorry".
Alexander Miller Jun 2017
Nothing but smiles and scraped knees
When I met you, I loved you endlessly.
She said she loved me because we were the same;
two worlds colliding in one mind's shame.
You were the love and I was the cave,
the others look at us and frown how we behave.
But the war is only fought in our mind,
struggling to sanity is harder to find.
To know that your love is the only thing keeping me together
I need you now or never
and the caused pain gets harder to remember.
Can one echo pass through two bodies at once?
Maybe so, but not past your innocence.
Hope becomes fear
Chance is unwanted and fresh faces become near
You can't stand this change
So you bound yourself in hate of this game,
We are now stuck,
together was our lust.
Remember the days on the place called Earth.
Well, we're some place better bound in dirt.

— The End —