With needle and thread, I arrive,
and glance upon the horrific scene.
I get out my kit so you may thrive,
but what does it all even mean?

With needle and thread, I stitch you up,
and gaze into your haunted eyes.
I take out a syringe, fill a ****** cup,
but when will you ever rise?

With needle and thread, I outline my heart,
and point to it for future needs.
I smile sadly as I've done my part,
but why would you do more similar deeds?

With needle and thread, I shut my eyes,
so I may no longer see precisely.

Oh but don't you worry your little heart dear,
for I will still sew you up nicely.

Here I lay, between enemy lines,
Throwing sedatives to both sides,
I cross my heart and hope to die,
Rather than have it divide.
Holes fill my system from un-aimed words,
Ripping me to shreds, it really hurts,
Others try to step in, but I push them,
Out of the line of fire, to safety,
Perhaps, where I should be,and
After all, these aren’t their wars,
Or anyone’s really,
They’re mine.
And I shall fight to keep peace,
Within myself,
Within everyone,
Until there is nothing left of me but recovering words.

I'd like to talk to you!
(you're pathetic,)
I'm sorry for bothering you!
(you're annoying,)
Are you busy?
(you're inconsiderate,)
I really like you!
(you're hopeless,)
I want to be with you!
(you're lying,)
Can you call me?
(you're relentless,)
I apologize for everything!
(you're selfish.)

Dearest child,
I see you have tried to outrun me,
My little crows tell me so.
You know you cannot escape me,
And I just thought you should know;
Give up your hopes, brush off silly dreams,
For they’re all going nowhere, it seems,
Like tiny butterflies,
In my clutch, they die.
Oh, but as do many things I tend to grasp,
Nothing can defy my wrath.
I’ll be gentle, dear, why don’t you come here?
It’s so much nicer than almost anywhere.
I’ll reach out my hand, you take it lightly,
Escape the fears I know you have nightly.
Don’t hold your breath, it’s safe to go,
For I shall be your friend, alone.
You will not rest in lands above,
This is my letter,
From Death,
With love.

My feet hit the pavement hard,
I glance behind me;
(listen...!)
My pulse quickens, deafening thoughts,
(calling them...!)
My muscles tense while dead ones move,
(get out of the way...!)
My mind collapses, slides towards pity,
(you can't afford that...!)
They each had a life before they died;
(no, stop-)
They had people to love and care about,
Had jobs to do,
Conversations.
(back away...!)
I move towards them, tears in my eyes,
(you idiot.)
Ignored my instincts, ignored my logic,
(I'm leaving.)
Embraced a pour soul before he claimed my own.
(And now you're dead!)

Her eyes are albicant, a crystalline blue fading to white,
closely related to the shade of winter’s mist.
You can see the phantoms of the past within them,
feel the blizzards within her mind,
the haunting thoughts you know she has.
She looks frozen, emotions frosted to her pale face,
framed with dark waves you could drown in.
Through her eyes I see the strain,
pushing against the icy glass that keeps her in.
Whether it’s for the better or worse,
I haven’t the faintest idea,
I remain like a shadow in the night beside her,
hopefully thawing her out with my care.

These kids don't care anymore,
we're out of the time of cursive writing,
when there would be an apple on my desk,
kids would only groan when asked to clean the erasers.

These kids are going to live,
in parent's basements, awaiting dinner and laundry,
rather than actively seeking adulthood.
What happened between my time and theirs,
causing them to become so electronic?

These kids don't make eye contact,
staring blankly into pixels,
unable to draw away from their techno-seduction.
These kids can not learn,
for they're only taught memorization,
then forget all of the rest.

These people expect me to teach,
but how can I do so when they're already powered down,
disconnected and wandering lost,
needing their fix of a shocking brightness,
they call a new and better world.