If the red slayer think he slays,
Or if the slain think he is slain,
They know not well the subtle ways
I keep, and pass, and turn again.
Far or forgot to me is near,  
Shadow and sunlight are the same,
The vanished gods to me appear,
And one to me are shame and fame.

They reckon ill who leave me out;
When me they fly, I am the wings;
I am the doubter and the doubt,
And I the hymn the Brahmin sings.

The strong gods pine for my abode,
And pine in vain the sacred Seven;
But thou, meek lover of the good!
Find me, and turn thy back on heaven.

We welcome the girl,
alone it would seem,
like a seed in the updraught,
whole worlds lie beneath.

Here is the girl,
A mind pregnant with dreams,
as she crosses the bridges,
connecting the streams.

There lands a girl,
ghouls taunt, ghouls tease,
"let go of this love, girl,
be rid of these dreams."

Come see the girl,
speaking tounges through machines,
white draped over candy,
embracing the terminal dream.

Heres lies the girl,
most wouldn't believe,
the ghouls taunts a mere whisper now,
dream easy, love freely... my sweet.

I am scared.

I am scared of being lied to.

I am scared of being deceived.

Should I be scared? Is it true?

I’ve been in that spot before, It is not easy.

I am scared of being right, but I am scared of being wrong.

Should I listen? Should I shut it out.

Do I have trust? Or Do I think I do.

I am scared.

Perfect
is what I'm not

I cry too much
and eat when I'm sad
I crave attention
and tell secrets
that I wasn't meant to tell
I don't study enough
and get a few B's
I'm a few inches too short
a few more pounds too big
I make a bunch of mistakes
I talk too much
and forget to listen closely

and all of this swirls
sticks
percolates
in my brain
making me forget
that not being perfect
doesn't mean I'm not
good

10 Years of Discretion
9 Months of Persecution
8 Semesters of Imitation
7 Weeks of Affliction
6 Days of Temptation
5 Hours of drug Consumption
4 Minutes of thought Malfunction
3 Moments of Desperation
2 Seconds until Eradication
1 Life of Lacrimation

You look with those cold cold eyes
Deep into my soul of black
Black hair
Black eyes
Black nails
Nails that blead from teeth
Teeth that bite the hand
Your hand that touches me until I'm
Sad
                  Sad
                                   ­   Sad
And very, very alone in a coldness that spreads
Spreads like my hair
As I drown in this abyss of fear
Fear of death
Fear of life
Fear of emptiness
Fear of me
Fear of you

You.

Scare.

Me.

She mopes around, thinking obscure things.
And clings to what seem to be her puppet strings.
She stops to stare, she stops to wonder.
She starts to cry, it starts to thunder.
The rain pours down onto her pain.
Can they see the difference? The tears and rain?
She cries for help. There’s no one around.
She gives out completely, crumbles to the ground.
Her hands shake, her eyes - red.
Her body shivers, her mind - dead.
She throws her head back and screams to the sky,
“HOW CAN YOU JUST SIT THERE TO WATCH ME DIE?”
She trembles there, shattered to pieces.
Then the clouds clear and the rain ceases.
Hushed suddenly, she stumbles to stand.
Her eyes fixed on a bright horizon of land.
She opens her arms in the face of dawn.
She closes her eyes, and then she is gone.
The only thing left are a few tangled strings.
You’ll never know what the chill morning brings.