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Devon Newsom Feb 2011
Cold, cold hands.
These hands of mine...
Cold with red.



I carry a burden.
Such a heavy burden.
I bury this burden-I bury deep.
So, so deep.



As I drive, I feel relief.
My mind is wandering from place to place-
from thought to thought.
...I swirve.
Hitting a tree is not what I need right now,
or is it?



Maybe it would be better if I no longer existed.
I'm quite awful, really.
I lie to people very often-
no remorse.



Nah, maybe not.
Just keep on driving.
That's what I should do.
Exactly what I should do.



Home.
Home feels so wonderous.
I need my bed...but I shall retire to the couch tonight.
My sheets are awfully messy.



Pit pat,
ratta tat.
Knock knock,
it's twelve o' clock.



I answer the door,
and I find a man in uniform.
"Do you know the whereabouts of this woman?"
She looked very familiar...



"No, oh no, my, my, no, no."
I answer with earnest.
"That will be all, sir".
Men in blue.
Never leaving me alone.



I feel they like me.
I wonder why?



Night time again.
Oh, I love the night.
I don't love this woman, though.
She lays on my bed, naked.
Some girl from a bar-
she wants to lose her inhibitions with me.



What she doesn't realize is...
I'm losing mine with her.



I tell her to close her eyes.
She obliges.
I walk softly over to her.
Slowly, slowly.



I feel her body with my hand...
I feel absolute power within my palm.
Bliss runs through my body-
I end her.

Now I have another burden for the night.
It's no real problem, honestly.
I'll just take her where I dump all of my other burdens.
Hopefully I won't be too tired to lift her.



She's pretty light, anyways.
-Written by Devon Newsom
Devon Newsom Feb 2011
I wandered down the street-no general direction in mind,
And I stumbled upon an elderly woman standing in front of a church.
The woman had circular scars on her hands, and her face seemed to glow.
"Hello, son. Would you like to help an old lady out?" Her eyes were kind, loving.
"Maybe...what do you need?" I felt exhausted, and I had no idea where I was.
"Come back on Sunday. I have a plan for you."
She then turned around, and went inside the church.
The loving feeling was gone.

Oh how sinful that Friday was.
But Saturdays are the core of an aged apple.

I find myself without direction, once again.
I feel my vision blur, yet I have no influence in my veins.
I walk into the red light district of town-
I don't even notice.
I walk in front of and underground club, it was painted red.
A sign glowed "Fallen Angel" in bold, neon red letters.
"Hey! Hey you! Yeah, you, the one that is walking. Come're!" A man calls out to me.
His eyes are black, and so is his attire.
He smiles like a snake, and slithers up to me.
In his hand he holds an apple with one bite in it.
"What do you want?" I keep a distance.
I feel a sense of bliss in his presence-
but this bliss has an underlying feeling-
the feeling of hate.
"I want you to come inside my club." He smiles a grimacing smile.
"Not tonight though, oh no. It is much too full tonight. How about Sunday?"
The smile doesn't falter.
His voice was temptation, his eyes were greed, and his heart was gone.
"Maybe. I believe I'm busy." I remembered the woman, but she was oh so faint to me now.
I could barely even remember her face, or her love.
"I promise you'll have a good time." He takes another bite of his apple.
"I'll think about it.." The people inside sounded like they were in a bliss-
that the world was theirs for the taking.
I wanted that.

Saturdays may be rotten,
but Sundays are the seeds.

I woke up inside of my bed.
I didn't really sleep.
I shuffled to a sitting position, and I looked down onto the floor.
There lay a bible and a bottle of liquor-
I left them both there.
The world seemed to be mapless,
and my compass was spinning out of control.
Outside became my surrounding, as I walked through the door.
I looked to my left toward the Church, and I felt love.
I looked to my right toward the club, and I felt bliss.

My feet led the way.
-Written by Devon Newsom
Devon Newsom Feb 2011
Let's say that I am your angel;
I am everything that can save you.
Let's pretend that I am devoted to you;
every part of me is dedicated to your life.

Let's imagine that I can rescue you,
repair any mistake you manage to make.
I offer all of this to you,
but are these offers you would take?

Would you choose to live with the devil,
and ponder your existence?
Would you choose to run disheveled,
and continue your resistance?

How can I save you,
when you do not want to be  saved?
Written by Devon Newsom
Devon Newsom Feb 2011
Dear God, if you are there, please hear my plea and come down for my care;
for my life is nothing but all in crumbles and all I feel are the walls beginning to tumble.

Please heavenly father, if you do exist, save my life before I slit these wrists.
I cannot escape my saddening fate as I continue to recite: it's not too late.

Help me, almighty one, send down an angel or even your son.
This world is falling limb by limb and my little light is starting to dim.

I need you,"I am", the glorious lamb, to ****** me away from this atrocious land.
The fires around me are not ceasing to burn and still they bite my skin and continue to yearn.

Forgive me, my master! I cannot continue through this disaster;
the pain is unforgiving, even though I am no longer living.

I know I've done wrong; I've heard your sullen song.
I watched your tears fall in my name,
I watched them fall upon my shame.

But this is no reason to keep me here,
where they rip me from ear to ear.
There is no reason to keep me in place,
where they continue to gnash at my face.

I am sorry for my sins; I beg for mercy.
Please dear God save me with your surgery.

Heal my limbs, repair my heart;
just, please, stop them from ripping me apart.
Written by Devon Newsom
Devon Newsom Feb 2011
Ask me, ask me, what it's like to see every creature on Earth kneel before you.
Tear my brain apart and search my stems; digging for gold and useless knowledge.
Alleviate the pain I feel when I search the stars every night and find nothing;
all useless to me, taunting me and telling me I am weak, that I'll never be something.
Careful treading through my inner workings, as there are a many bumps along the way,
caverns full of used hope, don't become lost throughout the day.

Ask me, ask me, what it feels to be all important to the world.
Rip me apart and find my insides, dig into me and feed on my life;
destroy what I was and sell my soul, taking away my fight and strife.
Antagonize my rude emotions, ask them to go outside-
they will take you out there and beat your skin into hide.
Fall onto the ground as they beat you,
senselessly scraping you apart, and they will leave you for the vultures;
they will feast upon your heart.
You will fall in agonizing pain, and you will be a mirror of my inner workings;
painful, without respite, and you will learn of all your shortcomings.

Ask me, ask me, what it is to be immortal, to be ever living.
As you lay on the ground, your blood staining the pavement,
I watch you in your agony, and all I find is lament.
I scrutinize your every cry of pain, watching in your sad display,
I sit next to your wringing body, and only sigh in dismay.
You are not what I've needed, you cannot help me escape-
Maybe someday you'll help, but now you're only another gate.
I leave you there on the sidewalk, dying without a breath.
I walk away from you, never looking back at your mess.
Your image of pain never leaves my mind,
and yet I find it that I feel nothing all the time.
I consider it thoughtless that you should provoke me as you do not know the monster inside,
the one who destroys cities and tears down forests-nothing can hide.

I wish I was God, and that I could fulfill your questions with honest answers instead of lies.
Sometimes I think about that night, wondering about your pain.
I can only laugh at your sadness, and it was all in my gain.
Do not cross the bridge to me again, stay far far away.
I am the River Styx- you never wish to cross my way.
If I see you again, God help us both, I will rip you limb from limb and tie you to a post.
There I will set you on fire, watching your flesh burn, and be lifted up into the smoke.
-Written by Devon Newsom
Devon Newsom Feb 2011
I once knew myself,
I once knew me well.

Now I wonder:
Is this my cell?

Am I imprisoned forever more,
to be left with nothing but the shore?

To feel the sand beneath my feet;
to feel the sun's relentless heat.

I shatter myself and lose my bearings-
only to understand I am uncaring.

I fall through the ground
and sink without a sound;
ripping through the seams
of...everything.

Inside this hourglass time grows old,
with me only left to sit and mold.

I have lost my way;
I have lost it all today.

~~~

My time has passed
through the hourglass.

I no longer understand
what it is to be a man.

Chills vibrate through me,
incapacitating my being.
Unexplainable reverie,
I can only start seeing.

Visions become my existance,
trying to remember the life before.
Trying so hard to condense it-
but I always come back to the shore.
-Written by Devon Newsom
Devon Newsom Feb 2011
The clock stands still-
the battery does not live any longer.

A man looks at me and asks
"Will you go?"
Fear is struck within me, and I cannot move.
My esophagus betrays me, allowing only choking sounds to be released.

I slowly close my eyes
trying to dream this mess away.

"No"
My voice quivers-
shaking just as my heart does.

I hear footsteps walking away from me-
heads shaking in disgust.

I can feel the ice freezing my soul
impeding my movement forward.
My life is frostbitten and I have lost the warmth.
A fire will never be sparked.

The clock fills me up-
it is the broken avatar of my spirit.
-Written by Devon Newsom
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