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Daniel Vanatta Mar 2014
At times, I don't wanna go to church.
At times, I don't feel like a Christian.
At times, I feel like no one cares...
Are you even listenin?

You just asked me how I am,
So I started to explain,
But it wasn't the answer you were looking for
You'd much rather hear, "I'm the same."

You don't really care how I'm doing,
But it's the typical Christian thing to ask..
"Hey man, how's it goin?"
Well for one, my heart's shattered like glass.

I sit in the corner alone sometimes
Just to watch and observe how you act
You make fun of the kids who aren't doing so well,
You aren't full of the spirit, you're full of CRAP.

Or what about her, she cuts herself,
You saw that a few months ago.
But you never cared enough to ask if you can help...
You were just one more excuse for her to let go.

So and so asked about her pain
All she needed was just to talk
But he didn't have "time" to hear her out
So he said, "That's good," and took off.

Now she hates going to church
But none of you even care
Nobody befriended her
It was like she was never even there.

I'm going to be brutally honest,
Sometimes I have hatred for you
Because I put myself out there and opened up a bit
But not once has a call came through.

Is that how a church should represent love!?
By acting like this is a game?
What would happen if I stopped talking to you,
Would you even remember my name?

I'm fed up with your mentality
I hate the way you talk about girls
You're fake and uncaring, selfish and cruel,
You're just like the rest of the world.

We all have our faults and our setbacks,
I'll lay mine out on the table
Nobody's perfect, but do you even try
Besides acting the "Christian" label?

Your falseness shows through your words,
It bleeds into your speech
I don't need another friend like you,
You **** my life out like a leech.

It's time to put aside childish things,
And start showing the love of Christ.
Make friends with the kid with the hair in his eyes,
Be Jesus' shining light!

So the next time you see someone hurting,
Just try and care a bit.
Your words mean the difference between love and hate,
So let kindness show through you, that's it.
Daniel Vanatta Mar 2014
Come Summer, and the birds will sing
The squirrels to their nests will bring
Their harvest of the goodness of the time

And in the forests, life is found
In branches, and upon the ground
Abundant living of the mammal kind

Come Fall, and the leaves will turn
A golden brown that makes one yearn
For seasonal gifts like fires' glow and burn

The ground will turn an auburn red
And thoughts of love will fill their heads
But little do they know, and soon will learn

Come Winter, and the harshness lies
In flurries of white that sting the eyes
And lasts for far too long to be of comfort

The people all will stay inside
Within their houses, they will hide
Away from all that biting snow will plunder

Come Spring, the world will spark with life
The lovers once again unite
Basking in warm, tender rays of sun

Flowers bursting into bloom
Away from all the doom and gloom
And all is gained, because the Earth has won.
First happy poem!
Daniel Vanatta Mar 2014
A flash of silver
Grazing tender flesh
Split, Slice, Opens
The door to serenity

Sweet rubies
Droplets of scarlet
Pooling into an ocean

Of pain
Of Sorrow
Of Peace
Of turmoil

Does it
Does it

The Death
In Life.
Daniel Vanatta Mar 2014
Why won't you let me go?
I'm no good for you
I've tried so hard to let you drift
Away into the blue

But all you do is remind me
Of the selfish thing I am
And all the pain of past regrets
For I am a hopeless man

I've done so many things to you
That you did not deserve
So why won't you just leave me be!?
It's getting on my nerves

I hate the way you remind me
Of every ***** thing I am
You always were too good for me
It's a shame you held my hand

Just Stop this now, you're hurting me
I know I've done you wrong!
Do I shave my head, and kiss your feet
Or sing a mournful song?

I can't take any more of this
My self esteem is shot
I won't pretend or hold it in
And be something that I'm not

I'm done with you, I'm done with me
I hate the man inside
Darling, you've done nothing wrong,
I've fueled my own demise

"I think you should go deeper,"
Said the razor to the hand
"Just a tiny bit more to settle the score..
You soon will understand."

They say it's wrong to feel this way,
But darling, don't we all?
I only ask that you remember me,
As my blood begins to fall
I only ask that you remember me
When there's no me left at all
Daniel Vanatta Feb 2014
To whoever finds this letter,

Hollow bodies
Corpses filled with emptiness
Staring straight ahead, unblinking
Tattered clothes with bloodstains and other such pieces of... well, let's just call it Lunch... on them.
Unable to function beyond simple tasks such as:
Walking; Eating

This describes my family.
How on earth I am able to write this is beyond me!
I found this typewriter on a trip home from scavenging for any humans, (dead or alive), and, immediately excited for the memories it brought back, I picked it up, carried it home, set it down, and some part of my mind just.. clicked.
It felt right to place my bluish-green, rotting hands upon the smooth brass of the keys,
And what came next was a miracle.
Since I am unable to speak or learn any new information,
I have to type, and remember how it felt to live...
To assess, to process the things that I saw.

I had no clue that my death was so imminent!
I was asleep one night, curled up next to my older sister in our makeshift bunker, dreaming hopefully about salvation, when my jugular was ripped out of my neck.
It was so sudden that I barely felt it, and saw my (once love-filled, now cannibalistic) neighbor chewing away at the newly acquired piece of food.
Next thing I knew, I had this undying (literally) desire for human flesh.
Don't ask me why... I get sensitive about these things.

Annndd.. shortly after, I couldn't resist the urge to do the once thought of as disgusting deed of eating people... to the rest of my family.
Tragic, really.. If only I felt some remorse about it... but I can't feel at all!
Apparently my sense of humor is still intact.
I don't know what makes me so different than the others!
I wish things were normal again though, I miss the warmth of the summer sun on my skin, the crisp, cold mountain air, the birds singing their sweet songs of communication in the golden brown Acacia trees where I used to live, and the welcome sound of roosters crowing at dawn.

But you know what they say, "when in Rome..."
So I settle for waking up to the sound of crunching bones and cartilage as my family dines on their catch (which I can't help but indulge myself in also).
Dear friend, if I happen to eat various parts of your body, do forgive me...
It's only my nature!

              Edmund Reirston (formerly known as a living, breathing human being)
Warm Bodies <3
Daniel Vanatta Feb 2014
Jonathan was young
His parents were happy
They loved each other very much
Jonathan did what he was told
Because he didn't know any better
And he was loved all the same
And he had a dream
To become a professional baseball player
And Jonathan loved his parents
Even though they said he was stupid
For having such a dream.

Jonathan was older
His parents rarely showed affection for each other
He began to suspect they had no love anymore
Jonathan questioned what his parents told him
Because he was starting to know better
And his father hit him
And Jonathan's dream was as real as ever
And he would play baseball in secret with his friends
Jonathan still loved his parents
Even though they never talked to him

Jonathan was 18
His parents were getting a divorce
And they slept in separate rooms
Jonathan drank and did drugs
Because he didn't know any better
And his father broke Jonathan's arm
And Jonathan's dreams were gone
He burned his baseball things
And he hated his father
And he hated himself
And Jonathan was no more.
Just a poem that came with a day of depression.
Daniel Vanatta Feb 2014
an Empty, bleak friday night.
mist Veils the atmosphere around me as my body is taken
where Every step leads.
i am Ravenous, tormented, and so, so... cold.
i find it within me to shiver, Yearning for warmth,
though every Old muscle in my body protests
as they struggle without Nourishment to contract rapidly,
and, with great Effort, heat up my aching body.
the failed attempt leaves me breathless, and Incredibly numb.
i am carried around the corner of the dark, Sludge filled alley
to find an old, Mahogany colored victorian era door squeal open,
And light pours out.
such sweet light, Dare i say, as i have never seen before.
"a sight for sore Eyes", some may say.
well, if eyes could Be any more sore than mine,
they would implode into sockets of Empty darkness.
the light radiating from the door that is Ajar beckons me,
like an Unobtainable, mouthwatering steak does a vagabond.
i collapse at The doorstep, exhausted to the point of death.
i struggle with all that Is inside me just to lift up my head,
but when i do, i begin to Feel more invigorated with every breath i take as
all of my Unyielding ailments leave me.
amazingly i stand up, fresh with strength, and Look around the room, transfixed at the incredible sight before me.
it is a party! but not just any party,
one such as you would find in the great gatsby!
the men have expensive, radically colored suits,
swindler's canes, and Impossibly tall top hats.
the ladies are dressed lavishly in long petticoats, draped with lace;
feather scarves lie around their necks with perfect elegance.
no one seems to mind my presence,
and as i am finally in control of my own legs,
i stumble, regaining movement in them, and travel about the room,
observing the magnificent scene before me.
now, i don't know what it was that caught my eye,
for everything in that decadent room seemed to shimmer and glisten,
pleasing the eyes to glance upon.
however, one thing stood out.
separated from the bustling crowd, there she sat,
in the back corner, alone.
clearly a *******, yet the fact didn't seem to phase me the least bit.
she was stunning, angelic!
she stood up, and practically glided about the room
back and forth, seemingly like a lion, searching for it's prey.
she held her gaze at me way past the point of comfort, yet,
awkwardness was not present between us.
she sauntered over to me, completely aware of the trance she had put me in.
fingers, trailing over my trench coat, she stepped outside,
beckoning me to follow her
out into the mist once again.
gone. she was gone.
such fleeting beauty. i could sense the pain inside of her
while she stood in front of me,
and still can now, for i, too have felt the same.
it was something to remember her by, and it made me wonder,
does such a woman with the ability to care and be cared for completely...
or am i destined to live life alone, in the mist,
never quite able to see into the aspects of what i so long to give,
what i so desire to receive...
A short story with a hidden message.
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