Everywhere I look
Visions of you

Ghostly images
Blurred and out of focus

I can't seem to shake it
This strange hocus pocus

I want you to leave
But I don't want to forget

The love that we shared
From The moment we met

I cannot move forward
Your love haunts me so

Will my heart mend
I really don't know

I travel through my days
With no end in sight


No matter What I try
You're still my hearts light

I am
A wolf among the sheep

They walk noisily about
Silently I creep

I walk as they do
I wear the same clothes

I meander my way through them
My prey will never know

The real me isn't so grand
This costume I wear is part of my plan

I'm not here to help you
I don't want your love

I am going to eat you
With teeth stained in blood

My life
is made up of
interesting lives.
People that seem
to always be in
motion, doing
and experiencing life
and all that it offers.
I merely sit and observe
from behind the railings,
Yearning to join in,
But having not the courage
That would be needed to
Step away from my life
Into the one I wish I had.

I guess you could call it poetic how by the age of 12 I had no recollection of what happiness tasted like on my tongue. Some would say it was tragically beautiful.
But it was not poetic, nor was it beautiful,  but it was tragic. It was so very, very sad, and that sadness is only doubled now that people see sorrow as glorious.  It is not glorious. It is not strength. It is a lump of iron in your chest and stomach and it eats you from the inside, out and you have no right to think that blood stained wrists are anything other than tragic. So very,  very tragic.

beware when you fall in love
with an artist
be it a painter, a singer, or poet

for the artist will
paint you
with strokes and hues
in shapes of every kind

sing about you
with heartbreak lyrics
and feelings which rhyme

write about you
with the simplest words
and a secret message she wants to say

beware of the artist,
and her love
one wrong move
and you're an artwork in her display

If you ever end up falling
you could never catch yourself
is this the reason why
you never say 'I love myself' ?

im screaming at the clock to please stop ticking seething at the moments that won't stop sprinting through oh why are you running away i am crying for the nights that i was not crying i am longing for the nights when you longed for me too i'm searching for the time i've lost because who gave it the right to just ******* run away
i'm sitting here in pieces shattered by a memory
who gave it the right
to just become a memory?

It begins when a
butterfly dies. My stomach
is an insect grave.