I cannot read you a poem so good
for I can write none,
nor play you a song so tuned
for you’ve heard better,
nor write you a letter so accurate,
for my language cannot convey such -

such flame in my chest,
spreading as fast as forest fire
when the thought of you meets me
behind my troubled thoughts
you sweep, as heavy rain falls
on Amazon.

i am
the lion
under your bed

i am
the noise
waking the dead

i am
the boy
banging his head

i am
the trust
reduced to only rust

i am
the struggle
of going completely under

i am
the life
that broke in the night

i am
the monster
in your open closet

i am
the woman
screaming ****** ******

i am
the lie
that infected everything

i am
the secret
you hide from yourself

i am
the demons
swimming through your mind

i am
the honesty
that you left far behind

i am
the dust
on your recorded thoughts

i am
the allegiance
left trampled in the dirt

i am
the power
given to your pain and hurt

i am
the sadness
that defines your person

i am
the reality
that numbed your heart

I'm going to continue smiling,
opening the door for others,
laughing at my mistakes and flaws,
enjoying what I find interesting,
and being polite even to those who probably don't deserve it.
But I am not a judge
nor do I have the power to dictate what anyone should receive.
So,
I will try not let anyone's
bitterness or intolerance
prevent me from being the good person I know I should be.

Like a fire in Satan’s lair,
Fury burned through my insides,
Gnawing at my hair,
It burned those sitting beside.
The lasting hurt and burn,
Flames squeezing out my strength,
Blankets of heat making me churn,
Glares extending their length.
Tormenting dreams enter my mind,
Horrors feed on my life,
Always a new torture for places they find.
Is this my new life
for all those thoughts that push me
on the edge of insanity.
Am I dead?
Am I alive?
I feel anger searing through my veins.
I consume so much hate.
I am numb.
I am lost.
I am in rage.