"Fingers twist into charcoal like the fires of last night.
You no longer dance with the rest of us, you're only ashes in mid-flight.
She screams, I am insane.
I whisper, You are too blame."

Your claws are short, as they are dull,and still, you bare teeth of the dire.
You're tongue is weak and your will is vacant.
Of course, you are one to believe that we are stronger, that we can conquer.
Such silly lies you spew, such great stories that only make you pretty.
As stars whisper, you will laugh. Their light trembles as your hands steady.
You smile; oh what a smile.
I reached out to it at the mid night hour. You told me to die, die, die.
But your claws are short, as they are dull; yet you dare bare the teeth of the dire.
Your tongue is weak, it would be a shame if something would to happen to it.
Your voice could no longer be heard, and such fake teeth would no longer be cared.
I shall shove your tongue and your lies back down your throat.
You will Asphyxiate, and you will scream.

Memories are a potent, and cruel existence.
You want to smile, you'd like to think of the flutter in your chest, the feeling of joy covering your eyes.
But memories are full of melancholy and odium.
They remind you of the years you've breathed, they remind you of the things you've seen
They cling to your eyelids like stained blood.
We all have the memories, such sanguine feelings they carry.
But is such, worth the daggers prickling at your eyes?
Are they worth, the engraving pain that trickles down your spine?
I am a reminder. I am your pain. I am your joy.
Blink.
Maybe you'll see me.
**-Dakota R. McIvor