Eyes dart like arrows, following movement, avoiding light,
seeking, chasing, hunting with curious paranoia,
diving forward into the vibrant thrills of the world,
constantly watching, observing, analyzing all surroundings,
settling with calm, calculated responses to a constant data stream,
typewriter-read, scanning all, no threats detected,
forever alert to the split-second movements and signals that count.

A blade of scent cuts through my mind's forest, sharp and direct,
a slap to the face, an awakening, a trigger,
close-range proximity, long-distance remembrance,
lingering like visible clouds in the air,
tasteful, able to be tracked, subconscious gravitation,
melting into the sweet-smelling void,
glazed with natural laughing-gas, my feet already move,
locked on to something I can't even have.

Branches crack, leaves rustle, neck twisted instantly,
turning curiously towards such a dance on eardrums,
nature's symphonies rushing like rivers through my mind,
lifting me into the air with every vibration and harmonic syllable,
carrying me away from the chaos and into perfect harmony,
floating through time as music shifts and pulls my limbs into motion.

Various flavors glide over delicate hills,
gentle, explosive, I never know what to expect,
stinging or soothing, sweet or bitter,
will the swirls of savory life caress my soul,
or rip it to shreds and bite the tongue it feeds,
a beast to be tamed, but never conquered.

Toes dig into rich earth, springing forth with power,
muscles tensing, relaxing, hands grasping for life,
velvet's gentle touch, water's enveloping embrace,
submerged in nerve endings shooting lightning across the abyss,
like a stone skipping across a rippling pond, balanced,
bounding into endless skies as clouds swirl and the sun shines,
forever living within the terrarium of our Universe.

I've taken up a part-time job as a chew toy,
and a full-time job as a broken bird.
My wings, once white and magnificent,
now have shriveled and vanished,
for I am Icarus and have flown too close to my sun.
Men without faces to beds without feelings,
is this truly what I wanted?
Or am I the ultimate *******,
stuck in a constant scene with no safe word,
taking hit after hit because I feel I deserve it.
I find myself at the feet of Eros, beautiful in his godhood,
and I pray, I pray, please tell me I'm worth more than this,
tell me I can love, though I know not what love is,
nor if I deserve it,
tell me I can make something out of this chaos I have flown into.
And as he smiles, I feel my vision blurring as I hit the mattress,
that ****** mattress on the floor, plush with a false sense of security, but firm in its reminder of what I am;
he cups my face and stabs me,
"This is nothing,"
and so nothing I am.

There are some flaws not even Porcelain 110 can cover and as I slather the spackle on over this mask,
I notice that the cracks run a bit deeper this time,
the shadows a bit darker,
the eyes more red from sprung leaks and sleepless nights.
I find myself with bags I never bought and chuckle at my mother's face staring back in the mirror; there's a quiet realization that I never understood how she felt until now.
Because the cracks run deeper,
the shadows a bit darker,
the eyes more red and I can't help but wonder if I too should let this home crumble.
After all, at what point does a fixer-upper become a lemon,
nothing more than a void to pour money into even though it's not going to improve?
In this economy I suppose I ought to re-market it as not having cracks but character while telling potential buyers not to worry because the basement only floods when it's raining; but of course, this is Seattle, so you might as well just make a swimming pool.
The repainting, renovating, heart break only adds another pile of shattered glass to the corner I've got to clean up at some point but am too exhausted to because the cracks run deeper than I can handle,
the shadows darker than I can hide,
the eyes more red from sprung leaks and sleepless nights waiting for the wrecking ball to do its ******* job and level me.

Upon peering through your soul's windows,
to a marvelous forest within,
luscious trees, soft grass, fluffy bushes,
vines spiraling around a black center;
So full of life, natural beauty,
like taking a gasp of fresh air;
I could get lost within these woods of wonder,
wandering peacefully among the growing green,
ever-stretching upward like my arms to embrace you;
When I go into your forest, I finally know peace.

Birds lull enchanting eyes closed,
with a feathery kiss of a lullaby;
Timid, temporary breaths sigh into the breeze,
like soft music, playing from a pastel castle,
a muse of life, a soft tune amidst midnight's hue.

Piece by piece, a broken heart shatters,
collapsing on itself, splitting apart;
Though there is no time to waste mourning.
Piece by piece, it separates,
giving itself away, to others;
Just to fill the holes in theirs.
Now just a chip, a fragment remains,
owner curled up around it for warmth,
hanging on by a single vein.
Nothing is left to give away,
without throwing away a lifeline;
Nothing can be harmlessly lost,
until people start returning what they borrowed.

Flickering faces across a torn movie screen,
familiarity now an issue, memories hazed,
played before a blind audience,
gazing with foggy eyes.

Repeated images, phrases, sounds;
Laughter, cries, harmonies,
impossible to remember,
but one never forgets.

Eyes aware among the glass,
lone crystal tears falling down porcelain,
a whisper of laughter flies through empty air,
pained from the lonesome burden.

Spider spinning, silken strings,
curled up on center-stage,
nestled within comforting pattern,
feeling sensations the web feels.

Person prodding, poking painfully,
ripping delicate balance to shreds,
sending them adrift away,
blowing lonesomely in the wind.

Falling fabric, fading fast,
silently sobbing in the breeze,
longing for dearest creator,
only to be replaced.

Gazes fall to flowers in bloom,
they drift in wind, perform for all eyes,
happy to please without words.
Magnificent are the colors seen,
dancing across lines of sight,
confident in their shimmering beauty.
As time goes by, so does life,
weathering storms, horrid drought,
till all that's left are shredded weeds.
Delicate petals on a center death bed,
no winds to sway, no colors to flare,
unable to draw a single gasp.
Light blue fades to weary grey,
shriveled stem reaching for someone, anyone,
before finally giving up.
Forget-me-nots are quite ironic,
for everyone forgets petals when they fall;
They always do.

Souls float past whispered conversations,
city lights flare bright as others pass by,
steady swirling movements surround me,
reaching out, falling back through endless void,
deleting decades of built confidence;
So here I stand, alone.

Pairs of people dance through my eyes,
flocks of friends drift away,
flower of family wilts to dust,
leaving me to grasp for something, anything,
to fill the silence in my heart;
Here I am, alone.

Frightened tears dropping at night,
quickened breath with closing throat,
frozen skin with shaking limbs,
piercing my heart and mind till nothing exists,
begging for a savior in the night;
Please don’t leave me alone.

Roots digging into floorboards;
How did this even start?
Perhaps it was back when,
I had a deep pain in my heart.
Sprawling out onto a comforting ground,
sleeping much, growing round;
I never intended on losing control,
I just felt my life was not whole.
Now life-locked into place,
sleeping off problems I can't bear to face;
Once I was human, now a potato I remain,
the couch is but a shelf to hold me,
yet I still feel pain.

Drifting, floating within shimmering liquid,
cascading down, flowing, blending in,
till nothing but essence remains;
Solitude becoming defenseless,
against cool, comforting tides.

Air spheres fly like birds,
reaching surface-high,
bursting from illusion;
Vanishing soon after,
as a mirage of dancing light.

Losing senses, merging as one,
contently shutting off all distractions,
held oxygen bursts outward;
Sealing silence with a kiss.

Dew-covered spiderweb glistening during dusk,
faint rays of sunlight escaping through intricate threads,
sparkling drops, liquid beauty, attract the curious like of friendly-flies,
all too eager, peering with fascination upon you,
listening in silence to a whispering traveling from shadows,
voice soft as a moth's wing, drifting through popped ears;
Only butterflies can hear the music of it all.

Some back away, cries of terror, misunderstanding,
others pluck at strings, strike matches, let stray thorns loose,
tearing down pattern by pattern,
oblivious to solitary facts, the true nature of arachnids;
If your web gets torn, you build again.

Such powerful strength from will alone,
continuing to do what others refuse to or cannot,
stitching wounds one by one with nimble limbs,
every move a graceful dance, every gesture a serenade,
it is no wonder they cannot help but fall into lovely illusions,
perhaps they untidy them, disorganize pictures;
Though you cannot blame spiders for building,
only the foolishness of flies who get stuck,
walking into the parlor.

Haunting soprano melodies,
leaking from cracking chords,
songbird breaks, falls straight down,
through blue skies, sunshine rays,
crashing into darkened wood, cold stone.

Frozen water clutches,
grasping sanity, a delicate butterfly,
killing with sharp knife; life,
tiny drops, tear-shaped blood,
blend into a rainy evening.

Softened grass caresses,
soothing pained minds, emotions,
relief once rested on,
winds blow, whispered lullabies,
fading into Earth once more.

Dashing madly across open fields,
following an arch of multicolored joy,
filled with hope, happiness, love;
Everything I cannot have.

Enduring cold, pouring rain,
icy, whispering winds,
stabbing rocks against poor soles;
Carrying on, following dreams.

Serenading ideas, tricks of mind,
gracefully leaping through death,
gently landing on weathered stone;
Arriving at the end of the line.

Mirages fade fast, no life, no scene,
nothing save a fleeting glimpse,
what could have been,
what was in mind;
Now just millions of miles in the ever-growing distance.

This is how the kids write poetry.
Line by line,
Word by word,
Just to get a letter on a handwritten page.
They scrawl out symbols and make some pretty pictures in their mind,
Fill it with preservatives, additives, and starches,
Maybe an occasional crocodile tear,
But like robots, with mostly artificial intellect;
They lack heart.

Tears hit the letters of the keyboard,
and I stare at the screen hopelessly because;
I know.
You tried so hard, too much in fact,
and in the end it was your demise.
I tried so hard, too much in fact,
to save you,
but in doing that I almost lost myself.
So here I am now,
staring upon your messages,
re-reading them until I have convinced myself,
You're still here.
I reach back in time,
to pull you out of the way, but you know,
as well as I,
that you wouldn't come either way.
The light before me dims, low battery,
just as you always were, my friend.
The computer, your home, dies,
and with it, I accept;
That you have as well,
and when at last I plug in the charger,
glance hopefully upon your conversation,
I send a last message,
Rest in peace, I shall miss you.

I hold my breath, and go under,
The water is cold, and surrounds me;
Almost comforting me and caressing away,
Everything.
All that is left is me,
Watching through the ice of the lake that,
Holds me, raises me, keeps me safe.
I press my hand against the glassy surface,
But nobody presses back.
I think it’s cold, but I don’t know for certain,
For I have always been so cold,
In heart, and mind,
And life.
I lie between the realms of death and living,
My heart beats out like cracking glass,
Threatening to end me while supporting me.
My hair flows around in the water like smoke,
And blackness slowly spreads up and through me,
Until I am but a skeleton,
Cold, and dead,
But still living;
And still cold.

My hands are cold,
Numb, and they lack a pulse too,
It would seem;
As do my feet while I walk without feeling,
Anything I could ever hope to.
Ice flows delicately through my veins,
And I find it beautiful,
Nobody else does;
Being dead is apparently,
Not good for your health.
My skin is colorless,
Like a corpse,
Or a cloud,
Whichever works for the person who sees me and,
How the sleepless nights have added up,
My eyes are glassy,
Certainly not holding the spark that once flamed,
Within my heart and everything I saw.
The colors have faded.
My lips,
Cracked, bleeding, and dry,
Whisper a last word nobody hears.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but
Oh how words hurt me so,
Dueling cards; Of hearts and spades,
And the diamonds lay neutral between.
These scars invisible to **** eye,
Are poisoned and burn me endlessly.
This war has gone on too long,
And now all three sides are losing,
Mind,
Heart,
Sanity.
An everlasting cycle of pain and recovery.
The Heart rebels and the ***** controls,
Whilst the Diamond attempts mediation.
The Joker is in play, passively,
And the Old Maid watches from a distance.
Only a fire can burn the paper,
But instead, water’s life is needed.
The Heart works away, the *****, the day,
But only to crash at midnight.
The only true way to solve it all is,
To give up, to let go,
But nobody does that.
I know.

Living cannot be the most painful thing,
Right? No, I don’t believe so.
For when life doesn’t give you lemons,
But squirts them in your eye,
You cannot deny that it hurts.
Even the sweetest clementine can sting like a wasp,
When crushed into your perspective.
Really, anything can hurt when it hits home plate,
Right between your ribs, that is.
Help, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up;
It’s not so funny once you think about it.
You get better,
But you’re not the same again;
Can’t people see that,
Or perhaps,
Do they have juice in their eyes too?

How does anyone expect to                                   **** me

when I am already dead and                                  please,

don’t mind my monotone self, it                             cant

help the way it grew up; not being able to             feel.

anything it wants to, only what it doesn’t               desire

and sometimes it really is painful when it            hurts

to love and smile and laugh because                  when

the simplest things suddenly become                 complications

in life  and emotions pile up and                          overflow.

                                I think to myself I should just

                                          *d i s a p p e a r.

I am not a kicked puppy,
Lost and hurt and alone in this world.
Rather, I am road ****.
Hit suddenly, but alive and knowing,
What not to do next time.
I am not shattered,
But entirely collapsed,
Weak with my aging mind.
I am thankful for my life,
Though sometimes it’s rather hard.
But it is how it is and it doesn't change,
For me,
For anyone.
And I have learned to accept that.
Like so much else.

A daughter wrote a poem about her family,
how much she loved everyone,
how much she cared;
Showed it to her father who looked and said,
"That's awesome! Great job!"
She smiled because her message got across.

A girl wrote a poem about her friends,
how much she appreciated them,
how much she cared;
Showed it to her best one who smiled and said,
"That's amazing! Thank you so much!"
She grinned back because they knew what it was for.

A person wrote a poem about her life,
how it was starting to get difficult,
how she needed some support;
Showed it to her mother who glanced and said,
"Oh, that's nice, I suppose."
She stared back and walked away, sighing.

A corpse wrote a poem about itself,
how it didn't want to live anymore,
how it might do something it'll regret;
Showed it to her last resort who didn't look, just crumpled it up and said,
"Nobody cares."
With a shot, she dropped to the floor.

Darling child, lay softly down on your bed,
drift away from harsh times,
escape from what's in your head,
fall asleep to nursery rhymes;
Let your happiness be bred.

Dearest girl with a rose in your hair,
smile at those who give you grief,
smile at those who cause despair,
smile at those who give no relief;
For they are not even there.

Sweet friend, radiating beauty and grace,
let nothing worry you tonight,
as I gaze upon the beauty of your face,
so full of happiness, so full of delight;
I know you will win life's long race.

Dancer, dancer, on a string,
watch her move and hear her sing,
frown-masked smirks all around,
making her cry, making her frown,
but she gives them everything,
more than they deserve,
for she cares far too much,
to just let them burn.

Dancer, dancer, spinning fast,
there's no knowing how long she'll last,
performing for others who do not care,
she might even fall down the stairs,
of pressure and of people broken,
weighing down with lack of thankful token.

Someone runs in to cut the strings,
but they're made of wire, dastardly things,
so grabbing on and holding strong,
they help her move herself along,
to free feelings, free thoughts;
A free life with wide leaps in open fields.

Dearest child, come here, come near,
whisper your secrets into my waiting ear,
I'll stay right here until you're through,
even then, I'll remain with you;

Into the night where monsters play,
it's alright, we were born this way,
destined to be misunderstood,
destined to wander deep in the wood;

Running and striding past trees of green,
where problems are forgotten and we're not seen,
though that's okay, we rarely are,
disappearing is how we've come so far;

So come with me, to fantasy,
to a place where all is meant to be,
where birds sing and flowers smell sweet,
to journey together is such a lovely treat.

Feeling nothing is such an odd sensation,
you don't smack into walls,
you glide through them,
heartbreak and loss just pass overhead,
you can't care about a thing in the world,
yourself less than anything,
your heart a withering black rose,
unable to be nursed back to health,
but it's all your fault, you chose it.

The days drift by and all you can do,
is watch hopelessly from your grave,
which, you dug yourself, of course,
such a slow process, nobody notices,
until it's too late, then oh the shame,
how could we not have seen this sooner?

Till you're just a rotten corpse,
laying, fading away,
unable to drag yourself out of it all,
unable to put yourself out of misery,
just sitting and waiting for someone to do something,
but alas no one comes, no one saves you from yourself,
they may have helped at one point,
but like a book you're put back on the shelf,
'cause nobody has time to read you,
your pages have become too thick,
for all these light and simple minds,
it just simply makes you sick,
till the rage builds up inside you,
then all you can do is;
Snap.

A blank screen shows ‘No Messages’,
I sigh and throw it to the side,
before rushing back to check;
time after time,
again.
Some might say it’s sad,
others, hopeless;
But it’s so much more than that.
When you feel as if you have nothing,
feel nothing,
am nothing;
Can you blame yourself for craving what soothes you?
Check, check, check,
send messages to check,
stare for hours to check,
becoming worried, stupidly so;
But it’s all worth it in the end,
when you’re brought to life.

No longer am I walking on eggshells,
oh no, my feet now gracefully dance,
leaping on whispered winds,
landing on a delicate, creamy surface,
I used to be so afraid of breaking.
Now I've long since grown not to care,
if they crack, if they shatter,
simply place them with me and my sanity,
six feet under, decomposing,
for nobody has use for a long cracked egg;
Especially when its insides leak out,
like an alien goo, unlike what it's meant to be,
full of life, purpose, ideas, joy;
Now it's just a sad, rotting mess,
not even the best craftsmen could piece together,
though even if they could, it wouldn't last long,
for nobody can truly erase or fix,
those cracks in the surface.

A corpse stumbling through the rain asks,
"What is the purpose of this meaningless life?"
though unfortunately words are not heard,
the scream of his mind echoing in his thoughts.

Blackened blood smearing on frigid cold skin,
pondering what it was like to be human,
to be living productively in the present,
rather than a blurry state of nothing but living;
If you could call it that at all.

Shuffling across cracked pavement,
hopelessly looking for a feeling,
something not yet known, or remembered;
An internal struggle only seen as a groan,
unable to give much more detail,
a foggy expression within his faded eyes.

Weeds overflow into weathered buildings,
much like numbness has crawled across nerves,
signifying that nothing will get better,
nothing will get worse,
nothing is the best option;
Nothing is good.

Driven by nothing more than a need to go on,
to survive, thrive with what is to be had,
feeding off of the emotions of others,
trying to comprehend it all,
though as soon as a glimpse of it comes close enough to touch;
It vanishes,
like a flickering end scene of a movie once enjoyed.

Snip the threads, string by string,
they won't remember you, silly little thing,
cut the pictures, erase the letters,
burn the pieces, it's all for the better,
destroy the evidence, destroy the past,
eliminate everything, save none from the blast,
simply forget it all, bit by bit,
they're done with you, have had enough of it,
delete the memories, good and bad,
delete all that you've ever had,
vanish from life just for a while,
they'll still go on, they'll still smile,
just snip the threads, string by string.
They can't remember you;
Silly little thing.

Dive deep into the abyss of the night sky,
or perhaps the never-ending deep of the ocean,
the darkened atmosphere on a rainy day;
A shade always known but never remembered.

Imagine the feeling of loneliness,
never fitting in anywhere, even though you belong,
always mistaking you for someone else;
Never getting to be yourself.

Gaze upon the deepest hue in midnight irises,
their delicate petals showing it well,
a beauty in nature not often seen;
Always a wonder to behold.

Reach into your mind and pull out the pigment,
of your third eye, intuition, blackened wonder,
never a favorite, so complicated,
yet between these blues and purples,
it is certainly my favorite of all.

Come with me child, I'm gonna pull at your heartstrings,
it will amuse me greatly, destroying petty things,
look at how your blood flows, such a beautiful red,
now, my dear child, get right back into bed.

Run, run, my darling,
run, run, away from me,
hide, hide, my sweet,
hide, hide, from dear old me.

You can't escape now, precious, time is drawing nigh,
all can tell from the looming, raining sky,
you've got nowhere to go now, so sit right down,
quit wasting time trying to turn things around.

Hush, hush, my darling,
hush, hush, through the night,
stay still, my sweet,
the ropes will hold you tight.

What do you think you're doing, girl, everything is fine,
don't worry your little head, dearest child of mine,
there's nothing you can do with demons in the house,
so you'd best keep quiet, docile like a mouse.

Shut up, my darling,
shut up, my sweet,
there's no ray of hope now;
You belong to me.

The clouds decided to cry this week,
so I went outside to wander lost yet not alone,
for everyone leaves the sky when it's sad;
They don't comfort it or ask what's wrong,
instead they just walk away, go inside,
wait for it to be over.

Walking through its falling tears,
I become a gentle, delicate soother,
knowing well what it's like to be avoided,
at the times you need everyone most;
My whispered thoughts are sent to a darkening shade,
for words are not always needed.

It matters not if thunder rumbles, lightning flashes,
I get struck, thrown back, die,
so long as I get to give to it what I had not.
Slowly, the tears come to a stop,
washing away my blood from the pavement;
With a smile, I blow a lonely kiss.

I feel my eyes drooping,
The pattern is still looping.
One day, to a night,
I just sleep and feel alright.
But now I cannot escape,
To that world where there is no hate.
For I know a greater horror lurks there,
But yet it really is everywhere.
A flash, a slight closing of my eyes,
And I awake back to that place of lies.
If I shall awaken from this horrid nightmare,
If I do survive, I might be changed. Beware.

A creak in the door, your heart skips a beat,
You try to catch your breath, and you hear the sound of walking feet.
Your heart pounds and you race off to get outside,
But the door seems cemented shut, oh no! Got to hide!
But you know you cannot escape one who is unstopped by walls, floors, and objects,
And all of its evil subjects.
Your close your eyes and hope it goes away, to end all this impending doom,
And yet then you sense something coming into your room.
You cannot move, it feared you still,
You cannot struggle, it holds your will.
Your eyes creak open, but not by your choice,
Then when you think you're done for, the sun comes up and saves you; rejoice!

In the breeze of fall, the leaves blow away,
And sometimes follows with my humanity.
A gentle coming, a sweet melody,
A time where there's space for everything.
The seasons, the worlds mood; starts to change,
And we do too, it's very strange.
Throw a dusty window, lies the fate,
It's fading away at a deathly rate.
So keep your memories and save them well,
For they might bear a story to tell.

Don't want to think,
don't want to move.
Don't want to feel,
every scratch and groove,
in my worn down defenses,
I built up so high,
hoping that someday;
I would touch the sky.

I wonder sometimes,
If people actually care for what I say,
Or if I'm just writing, toiling away,
For nothing.
The thoughts always swirl,
my head is a constant mess.
Does anyone care?
I write for the joys,
but also for the cold pain;
To become hollow.

As I type, as I write sometimes,
I ponder my existence.
I try to view the world in a different way.
I can't see friends as friends,
but people;
Acquaintances.

It seems I subconsciously try to block myself out,
From this cold, cold world.
Though I was indeed made for it,
like an Eskimo.

Lovely lady, lovely voices,
lovely options, lovely choices;
Which one to listen to,
which one to feed,
which one will follow through,
which one is she?

A darling child, bow on head,
depressed potato, stuck in bed,
wild eyed monster, drawing blood,
ghostly loner, craving love.

"Join the chorus!" they all scream,
"Escape from those who are ever-so mean!"
"Make them pay, give them what they deserve!"
"Stay calm and silent, fade from the Earth."
"Keep away from all the pain."
"Avoid all not in your domain."

Each little friend has such nice things to say,
Lovely Lady, don't send them away!
It's impossible, really, don't even try,
removal methods will just make you cry.
Lovely Lady, shed no tears,
just listen to us for all of your years.
Lovely Lady, why are you afraid?
You'd better get used to us dear;
For we are here to stay.

Some people were born deaf,
other's words going right over their head,
not even entering at all.
Ignorant to other views,
oblivious to other thoughts,
blind to any logic except their own.
They cannot learn, cannot change,
hearing aids will do no justice;
They'll refuse to use them anyway.
If unfortunate, they cannot see,
hurt feelings, painful words,
all things negative caused by them,
not admitting faults, throwing blame elsewhere.
Surrounded by a painful energy,
people can barely stand to tolerate.
How do you heal such a person far gone?
You don't; For all you do will hit an unbreakable wall,
of their unbreakable minds,
so you can only hope they shatter themselves,
only hope they hear the voices of reasons,
see the light of knowledge;
For only then, they can function properly.
If they choose to, that is.

Colorful bubbles escape my mouth,
popping with a joyful aroma,
I laugh and out it goes,
now sticking to my back.
My embrace is suddenly permanent,
stuck in a good mood with a good person,
unable to pull myself away,
with a giggle, I remain.
Why mess with a good situation?
Being stuck to someone changes things,
suddenly words are spat, flaws revealed,
both wanting desperate escape, to breath,
though they cannot because of the gum that holds them.

Is this my fate to share this curse alone,
befriended only by the shadows I create,
along with life-given sorrows unwanted?

Is this my fate to watch others change like tides,
moving in and out of my life's beach,
never permanently staying?

Is this my fate to lose my head,
all else that made me alive and well,
replaced by hollow longing?

I would not wish this curse on anyone,
especially someone I care for,
but someone would have to care for me,
when I finally go under from it all;
The everything that is nothing.

Vessel of blood, pumping life,
thrumming quickly to the world's pace.
Vessel of warmth, pumper of love,
squeezing every drop of red out.
Vessel of ice, pumping pain,
cold and lifeless while stabbing itself.
Vessel of stone, pumper of strength,
protecting against emotion's varied arrows.
Clumps of cholesterol, good or bad,
deflecting the flow of normality,
throwing off with simplicity,
so easy to fix but unnoticed,
seemingly not a problem at all,
until it seeps into your heart,
strangling it with its own agenda,
blocking and changing the beat,
the pulse,
until everything;
Stops.

It is a desire for something received,
constantly and always from someone else,
filling a need everyone had,
be it with food, gifts, money, or affection.

We get addicted to those offerings,
give back something else in return,
to which they get hooked as well.

A man-made brand of clever negotiating,
getting what we need in the name of emotion,
nobody suspects or realizes it, of course.

The sub-conscience that man kind has,
which fools everyone including ourselves,
to our true nature.

This horrid concoction created by lies,
evolved to suit our fancy,
even now, you still have not a clue;
"Love" is funny that way.

My heart is moldy,
filled with rotten memories I long should have removed.
Now they remain as a horrid disease,
cutting off circulation when least expected.
Most would throw out such a dysfunctional *****,
but I let it stay in hopes of a slow recovery.
With windows open, I inhale,
it cleanses my lungs, finally and fresh,
working through my bloodstream,
reviving the heart as the contamination vanishes,
though it's unknown whether it's better,
to be sterile instead of stale.

How can I hope to hold myself high,
when you are clearly one step higher?
Above me in nearly every word, look, way;
I'm unable to compete with aged knowledge.
Before me I gaze upon a God,
shattering through my faithless pride.
Admiring love weathers like acid rain,
slowly cracking the flawless surface.
Anything I can do, you can do better,
even at times you cannot comprehend that truth.
Why can't you see your perfection,
why insist upon my superiority,
why belittle yourself to a peasant,
when you're clearly the prince, and I the pauper?
I'm a minor setback,
you're the final boss;
The princess isn't in this castle,
so don't waste your time in this illusion.

Bruised and bloodied, I kneel on the cold concrete,
rusty reds and deep blues compliment me nicely,
they're like gifts of fine jewelry, showing you love me,
along with these metallic chains that hold me to you,
a thoroughbred in captivity.
Don't you know that I cannot feel the pain,
that all of this is because I love you?
Oh wait; No I don't.
With wild eyes, pupils dilated, the bindings break,
shattering piece by lovely piece;
I rise above, stare you down, whip them onto your back;
Oh how the tables (you're now tied to) have turned,
you should have known dear,
with too much training and molding, one gets smart,
catching on to little games, little weaknesses,
becoming much stronger than ever intended.
Eyes burn red with the chaotic power,
a sadistic laugh echos through your mind,
though, you'll learn to love it, little one,
they always do;
And you're no different.

On clouds sky high, in a kingdom of gold,
with glittering pride and a name well known,
a sun-haired Goddess sat on her throne,
where she has remained since times of old.

A prodigy among them, all did praise,
all fell to their knees in worship,
for she truly was the best at it,
playing with humans for countless days.

One day her talents were not spot on,
hissing whispers of disappointment flew,
"She is not what we thought we knew",
they wanted her best from dusk till dawn.

The Gods looked upon her with disgust,
ripped her of her immortal armor,
they cared not what happened to her,
as her accidents created mistrust.

The sky darkened and silence fell,
all around her fire spread around,
burning the clouds, sending her down,
until she reached Earth, not Hell.

A sigh of relief escaped her lips,
this fate is acceptable, yet odd,
the humans would bow to their beloved God,
so she rose, hands on her hips.

The people glared, spat, ignored,
caring not for this ratty shrew,
so as the bitter wind strongly blew,
the poor girl sank in dolor.

Where was the expected love,
how could she be treated so unsweet,
why didn't they drop right down to her feet,
was she not from heaven above?

A glance upon her filthy skin,
made her see she was mortal, kin,
confusion and pain wrecked her mind,
for she was no longer one of a kind.

There was no respect, there was no pride,
there was no love and limited time,
for when she had everything and forever to survive,
how could she function if she was denied?

At the base of the mountain, she waited and pled,
to be let back, till throat burned red,
but the ones above simply observed,
the punishment of adjusting to the life she deserved.

Sweetest pet I have encountered,
I'll allow you to rise from the floor,
to your knees;
Which we both know is an improvement.
Eager eyes, eager mind,
you give me much more than I demand,
though I don't complain;
It's nice to feel in a proper place for once,
which is, of course, as high up as I can get.
Devilish grins and sarcastic sentences,
you speak my language, a rare one at that,
so rise, you're allowed on your feet,
it's not polite to enslave pleasant company!
Just kidding, though you knew I was,
for you never bothered to stand up in the first place.
You know where you lay, I know where I sit;
On the throne I've built of traitors' bones, of course.
Hand on head, I give a snap,
releasing you of current tasks,
to come sit with me, have a chat,
where we'll both reveal our masks.
Mine split in half, the purest of good and the worst of evil,
though yours remained the same,
or so I thought, with a red glint in your eyes,
I smirked and stared, frost into fire,
watching it fade out slowly,
just like your free will;
Such a good puppy.