Night has crept up
Like a blight on the perfect day.
I've become untied by the night's darkness.
I'm alone.
You my delight, have returned home.
You, now are hers, her knight, I am forgotten,
like a dream once awoken slipping into limbo.
Why do I allow this?
Why do I debase myself?
Why do you get the night and day?
While I get an unjustified plight?
When tomorrow comes I will smile and say,
"Goodbye and goodnight parasite"

Would I want to be anywhere else right now?
No, probably not
The title says it all. Serenity
Sat here on a little wooden bench, just me
Oh, and ducks, geese, squirrels,  countless birds
The real beauty is that they don't curse, yell, hurl abuse
Yeah, I see the odd squabble over something as trivial as a piece of pond ****
But nothing malicious in it, it's just their way
It's not just the birds and animals here
It's the peace, the chance when for a few minutes, an hour maybe you can shut out the world and all its problems
This is how it should be
How it should always have been
Bird songs, the wind rustling in the leaves
What composer dead or alive could have written music so beautiful
As the afternoon sun filters through the canopy of green
The rustling moving leaves paint an ever changing picture
A picture that will never see a gallery nor grace the wall of a stately home
But still a picture with grace and flow in shades of gold and green
Yes truly this is
Serenity

I pulled them, I snipped them off,
She loves me, she loves me not,
With each pull a muffled scream
Then the snip,
Deep terrified Agonizing scream
Pain,
Blood,
Bone,
Then its thrown on the floor,
One of many, not many more to go,
"Do you love me"
NO
"She loves me not"
Another one broken, then left till
The next one is snipped off,
She thinks is she the only one?
Looks behind,
To see jars labelled loved me not,
So many before, the same question
"Do you love me"
"No you do not"
He called them his petals,
But where was the stem they had come from,
He came to find her still,
The question asked
"Do you love me"
YES
"She loves me,"
"She loves me not"
A petal did not fall upon the floor
He looked with head at an angle,
You love me?
After what I have done,
She smiles through the pain,
I always did love you,
I needed to see how far you would go,
With that he slowly undid the straps,
A bandage for her digits missing
Now lying blooded on the floor,
She had seen it behind,
He had give her a drink,
"She was so close to being free,"
He had a look in his eye,
As she turned  
She heard a different rhyme
"Miss Polly had a dolly"
"&"
"Its"
"Head"
"Fell off"
Last words spoke, as no digits removed
"Instead a head rolls along the floor"
A stem lies bleeding
The face frozen in shock
As the head added to the heads  **fell off jars,

Does anyone else have that little voice
the one at the back of the mind that tells you to say something
or sometimes you shouldn't have.
The voice that tells you, you made a mistake,
well I have that voice all the time
some people call it the conscious, well mine hates me
I always make a mistake in his eyes.

I shouldn't have said this
I shouldn't have sent the friend request
don't give them your number
quit, go on quit
I'm never good enough for that little voice
I always make mistakes.

One day this week the little voice told me this
You're not good enough
you won't ever get anywhere
hey loser your going to be stuck in the friend zone forever
don't send that friend request
what ever you do don't give them your number.
you idiot, what did I just tell you
you can't do it, you are going to fail
she's out of your league
ha,ha,ha,ha,ha you hurt yourself
hey guess what, they don't like you, no one does.
You see that person over there well they going to **** you
hey Craig don't delude yourself you will never ever be good enough for anyone.
Why do you even bother waking up in the morning
don't talk to that person, they don't like you, hell I don't like you
don't do it, don't you dare do it.
I told you not to talk to her, you always do the same thing and now she's going to hurt you.
Craig, hey Craig, you ****.
Your going to hell, you will never escape, you will never be forgiven, you will rot in hell.

That little voice in my head, it might hate me, and when I was younger I might have listened to it, but not anymore, I am not the voice, I am me. It might be right, the things the little voice says might be right but I don't care, I like who I am, I'm always improving and on my death bed I will have no issues with who I turned out to be.