Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Jan 2014 Gwen Johnson
Ann Beaver
I could never be your sunrise
I don't know how to stand
Like the sun above the peaks
I don't know how to take
Darkness away from stars
Your mark doesn't have to scar to show
Below the layers:
Lingering molecules that once touched your skin
Love is patient, but mine is thin
Within a walled-city soul
This torture takes it's toll.
When right becomes wrong,
when light turns to dark,
when my mind can't restart,
this is what I fear.

This disease eats away at me,
and makes it hard to see,
it blinds me from reality,
and leaves me to die.

I feel it seeping through my pores,
and into my blood stream.
It strangles my heart and lungs,
consumes my mind like a bad dream.

It slithers under my skin,
like barbwire snakes.
I fight to make it go away,
but it takes much more than that.

Sometimes I think I'm better off gone,
better off dead,
why stay alive?
This disease will never let me go,
it will always hold me down.

Sometimes I think it would be easier,
to be underground,
than here.
This disease is stronger than me,
and will never let me be.

But for now,
I live,
till the day comes,
that I'm strong enough to pull the trigger.

Facing the demon is easy to do,
but pulling the trigger is easier.
Copyright Barry Pietrantonio
The lone wolf found his pack
He then made tracks in the snow by the light of the moon
 Jan 2014 Gwen Johnson
Ann Beaver
A note lingers on my tongue
A little on the spicey side
I would know if I could feel it
Solid ice walls
Surround me
Next page