You wake up
By 8 o'clock
You get up to
The fridge
Wondering what
To
Eat

But then
Ana knocks at the door
And when you don't
Reply To her knocks
She keeps ringing
And ringing
And knocking
(...) So you go to the door,

Knowing she won


And there Ana stood
With a smile on her face
She goes to the fridge
And lock it with
Endless locks

She tells you: "It's for your own good"
She tells you: "No one wants a fat cow like you"
And you, you just say:
"Thank you"

Because you know
Ana will keep her eye
On you
And follow you
And you won't have
Any choice
But to surrender to
Her

**Ana always win

My sun has set, I dwell
In darkness as a dead man out of sight;
And none remains, not one, that I should tell
To him mine evil plight
This bitter night.
I will make fast my door
That hollow friends may trouble me no more.

"Friend, open to Me."--Who is this that calls?
Nay, I am deaf as are my walls:
Cease crying, for I will not hear
Thy cry of hope or fear.
Others were dear,
Others forsook me: what art thou indeed
That I should heed
Thy lamentable need?
Hungry should feed,
Or stranger lodge thee here?

"Friend, My Feet bleed.
Open thy door to Me and comfort Me."
I will not open, trouble me no more.
Go on thy way footsore,
I will not rise and open unto thee.

"Then is it nothing to thee? Open, see
Who stands to plead with thee.
Open, lest I should pass thee by, and thou
One day entreat My Face
And howl for grace,
And I be deaf as thou art now.
Open to Me."

Then I cried out upon him: Cease,
Leave me in peace:
Fear not that I should crave
Aught thou mayst have.
Leave me in peace, yea trouble me no more,
Lest I arise and chase thee from my door.
What, shall I not be let
Alone, that thou dost vex me yet?

But all night long that voice spake urgently:
"Open to Me."
Still harping in mine ears:
"Rise, let Me in."
Pleading with tears:
"Open to Me that I may come to thee."
While the dew dropped, while the dark hours were cold:
"My Feet bleed, see My Face,
See My Hands bleed that bring thee grace,
My Heart doth bleed for thee,
Open to Me."

So till the break of day:
Then died away
That voice, in silence as of sorrow;
Then footsteps echoing like a sigh
Passed me by,
Lingering footsteps slow to pass.
On the morrow
I saw upon the grass
Each footprint marked in blood, and on my door
The mark of blood forevermore.

Sometimes I'm not sure if I'm asleep or awake,

My dreams are real and reality is fake.

What I think is real might be wrong,

Perhaps I've been deceived all along.

Maybe I'll wake up if this is a dream,

And realize that nothing is how it once seemed.

There are times when I just feel-

Like nothing in my life is real.

Perhaps I'll wake up after I die-

And see that my whole life was a lie.

Maybe not even reality is real,

Sometimes it seems abstract and surreal.

My life is terrible, too awful to be true,

So can it be real? I wish I knew.

This surreal life I can't escape,

What if I'm not even awake?

My whole life could be a dream,

Trapped in my mind, reality unseen.

If my life is a dream, don't wake me yet.

I want to live a life I'll never forget.

in your head, you can still hear her screaming
in mine, i still hear the sound of his feet leaving
you can still picture the rage in her eyes
i can still remember the way his lips curved when he lied
late at night, you can still feel her touch
midday, i recall conversations where he said too much
you hear her in the way you talk
i see him in the way i walk

we’re just two broken people
with our history defining us
coming together, trying to regain
our ability to love and to trust

or maybe this is just a way
to numb the pain
maybe, just maybe
nothing’s changed
maybe, just maybe
it’s always going to be the same
we’ll fall to our graves
without ever learning the definition of sane
maybe, just maybe
this is all a game
*oh, this is all just a game

Black Wolf is no pale sheep
He hunts on his own and chooses who he meets
He has no family nor friends to share
They nurtured him and turned death at Frozen Lake
The ice was too thin for it not to brake

Black Wolf stands out
He has no control of how it come out
Not because he has the gift of the growl
Or the raunchy moan of an infamous howl

Black Wolf against the snow white sharp he is
A brilliant beacon marauding over mountain caps
Any lady or foe knows no way to know
How or why he became so black against the snow

Black Wolf respects the old
The tender the wise
But spots the fool and the teenager trying ever so hard to be cool

Black Wolf has no pack
He's not one for looking back
He seeks no attention
But knows where he came from
A wolf mother wise and tender

Black Wolf died in his sleep
In a blizzard that berried him ten feet deep
No funeral was felt nor body skinned for pelt
Just the drift of the snow
As his body let him go
And the call from afar said "come, its time for you to go"

It was not a pleasant day, I’ll agree to that
When another nightmare woke me up from sleep.
I looked around to see where I was
I was not sure if it was real or another dream.

I picked up my phone and walked outside.
And what I saw, I couldn’t believe my eyes.
I saw everyone lying; injured or dead .
God! It was a horrible sight to witness.

A thick red air was what I was breathing.
I looked around to find traces of reality.
“It’s another nightmare.” I kept telling myself.
As I tried to find a way to wake up again.

An old woman stared me as if I was the culprit.
I felt so guilty that I wanted to escape.
But there was no way so I climbed up to the roof.
I thought, “That’s how I’ll know the truth.”

I woke up again but in a hospital this time
With a pain so intense, I thought I was dying.
“What is wrong with her?” someone asked the doctor.
“Poor little girl, she has lost her mind.”

if i could capture you with a metaphor
i'd say you were like the sea:
hidden power, tides moving with the moon.

i'd say you were like cliff diving
because i live for this temporary suicide
and the adrenaline rush halfway down.

i'd say you were like magnetism,
sparking, bending light,
drawing me in without discrimination.

i might even say that you were like a metaphor,
because they try to make sense of the impossible
and that's what you do with me.