not knowing.
                         but believing.

            in what?
I’m.

                     only a victim
                     only a victim
                     only a victim


Wait that’s my son.
                    my wife.
                    my daughter.

deserved rejection.

wrong-doing

he can’t get out of bed
her eyes more blue than red
a broken mirror behind her head

Wait.
                     only a victim,
                     only a victim,
                     only a victim,

                                              of what
                                               who
                                           why

               me

A body lay slashed on the ground
murdered in broad daylight, no witness had heard a sound
my John Doe had no name
to the killer this was just a game
this was the eight victim in one week
and I was not on a lucky streak
the officer's dog sniffed the ground
he was an asset, a highly trained hound
seconds later he seemed to have found a trail
when he returned, he was limping towards me and ****** in his leg was a rusty nail
I took it out and put it on the palm of my hand
saw a flash coming from the woodland
we ran into the woods looking for clues
this led us to more bad news
a car in a ditch, two more we found dead
spatterings of blood, a deep crimson red
the killer was still on the run
I felt it was useless waving my gun
the officers left to carry on with the search
in the distance I saw a winding road and a small church
could the killer be hiding there
or was he still in the woods over here
I walked down a bumpy lane
and felt a sharp object pointed at my brain
it didn't take me long to figure it out
I couldn't move, I didn't shout
I heard a terrible high pitched sound
in the background
oh how I thank that brave hound


Brigitte Pace

My mind is filled with a million different faces
I can't recall any names but I know the places
where I like to hide, hide my eyes
My eyes are fine, fine with lies
Down to sleep, sleep to escape this reality
TV show I made in my head
the show's just begun when I lay down to bed
Sometimes I think I'm better off dead
I dread the dead
Until the end of time the only world they see
Is a two-foot-wide box buried six feet beneath
Their lost hopes and dreams
I don't have a rhyme scheme
I have no rhythm I cannot rhyme
Iambic meter is a waste of my time
I'm literally scrawling my insane thoughts
Hiding from them though I know I ought
to work on my grades
But instead I just sit and hate
Myself because of my attacks
Always at the worst times they come back
Scaring off any chance of love
I always beg from above
"Please God save me make it to me clear
What in your name am I doing here!"
All I can think of is who I used to be
And I hear what I used to see
Inside myself; straight edge to the very end
Now what I cannot do is defend
My testimony to the jury of my peers
Their hate and love is why I am here
My attacks return and I'm insane
Put a silver bullet in my brain
Figuratively what I am saying
Is I want my skin to touch a blade
Metaphoric blood drip...drip...dripping to the floor
Feeling my soul slip...slip...slipping out the door
Quietly, not wanting me to see
Her walking out on my like everybody
Stop...
I can't focus with the music around me
I wanna slam my head through this glass pane to stop the pounding
I started this poem 24 hours ago
24 hours later I'm still alone
There's no way to mask and no reason to hide
How empty and Soulless I feel deep inside
So Much effort put in, yet so more I need
For this little poem no one will read

Seek to always be true to your Self,
both when it's easy,
and yet more so when it's neigh impossible.

The Friends you make living Life that way
will blow your ******* mind
and last you a ******* lifetime.

heavy raindrops
drown in teardrops.
surprise.
my hands soaked
in black burning
desperation.

(cannot hide
my face right now)

i've lost you.

turning towards
night.
lonesome late
silence
bursting down the street.
unnoticed
all-night
selfdestruction.

(cold wind won't
lie)

i've lost you.

empty taste
of your light white skin,
porcelain peel.
drunk bare
fingertips
down your
back.
back and forth.

i've lost you.

oily morning
light,
once again.
hurting my
mutilated eyes.

my body in pieces.
cursed/blessed.

somewhere there,
lying on the ground,
crying,
making no sound.
truth.

a new day
had found me.
warm beer
sleeping near
empty bed.

i've lost you.

I keep trying to wash away
The pain from my skin
But no matter how hard I scrub
The scars are still there

there is something
moving about being
replaced by flowers.