If it were a wish or a dream, I wouldn't feel the way I do inside.
Existence and living have me terrified.
I just want to run, I just want to hide
While I chase courage around my heart which flies.

I wish I could write a poem or letter that would inspire,
But all I have are words and begging phrases.
I'm sure at this point you're tired.

Dropping words my actions no longer defend,
I guess I will remain.

Locked in a cage of my own desire.

I linger in the slivers of ebbing shadow,
Feel my breath as it lingers on the dark
Door of your mind.
It
   Knocks
               Once
But you feel a headache coming on, 
It
   Knocks
                Again
And blood seeps from your nose it........
Hi I am your new tenant welcome to **oblivion.

Cheerful glee at what was persuaded with marshmallow
Eyes plucked upon a branch and then roasted with what
Could be seen, as shock set in shaking like a piñata

Hot sauce marinated and then these emerald whites toasted
Just right, Chewing on the gate way to their inner self. I always
Found them chewy like calamari, I wonder if they see it all.

Taking fingers on their throat, I check for a pulse, then I jump
A mile in another's shoes as there hand clenching on mine.

"Help me,
                 "Please,
                             "I heard them leave?

Cheerful thoughts persist on a serrated edge, like a donkey
Chasing a stringed carrot I heed their words,

"Who did this to you,
                                       "Are they still near,
                                                         ­                "I'll get help wait here,

Running in to the woods circling around I skip In jestful glee,
I  walk back and scream in terrified murmurs.
"No please I wont tell I promis......,

Screams echo like rainbows through the trees, but no one
Will hear them, no *** of gold at the end of this echo, maybe
Pie, this work is hungry. Cherrie I eat as I watch them squirm.

I see the milk of life ebbing out of them feeding the earth like
Crimson cornflower it coagulates. I have a primordial urge
To taste upon the hunt, I have tasted before, succulent like chicken.

But I look around such beauty chestnut trees remind me of youth
So much has changed but stayed the same. I look at what is passed
And like the past all things end, whispering in ears hushed thoughts.

"Nothing personal its just that time of the month,
"I need to do this I don't know you, but I needed your eyes,
"You see i don't, but with each one i consume i see a little more,
"You will not gaze again but i will thanks to the feed,

I hate seeing this part as i lift a branch and close
The other gate way, not much force is needed just
A sturdy branch.

They gyrate for a moment then silence and I see my misgivings
But they gave me their gift now i see and next time I will use
A little less hot sauce as my sight burns a little to much.

Well see you all again and thankyou for looking through
My eyes did you like what you saw what was seen.

I kept tumbling, falling...
Trying to walk down a black stone stairwell.
It widened and rippled like water with each sinking step, feet sinking into a dark blue glue.
Each stair I stumbled as the floor was lower than I presumed; giving me a feeling of vertigo and being swallowed down and down deeper into a hole I thought was only so deep, yet ended up being deeper than I ever imagined.

The lip of the top surface seemed hundreds of yards above offering little light to me, like a mouth engulfing less than what it wanted, tasting only my fear.

I find happiness within a confined box
No one from the outside world cares to knock
This box is to old an brittle
I'm
To wise,
To nimble
To peek out into the outside world

So I sit,
An crumble myself into a tight fit
In a fetal position
With toes tight
Reserved to only an inch
My face stuck in between my lap
My hands hugging my back

Pigeons swarming around my box
I constantly scream
There's not a soul to touch or take
For heaven is where my soul will take

I saw a homeless man give a mother money,
A businessman brag in an emergency room,
A teenager who cut his wrists tried dying,
And an old man pray for his wife to live.

I scratched words on a bullet, I was
Meticulous in its etching so many
Words can fit on the Head of a needle

But I only needed so few words to tell
The word how I felt, and with that I
Put it in my mouth and then silence.

Ballistics did unravel this piece like
Paper scrunched and origami of finally
Folded parts, and it read the following.

"My mind was worth nothing,
*"Now it is written on the wall,