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.

I am a Cancer,
Yet also a Leo.
What they call me,
A cusp.

I am the moon,
And the sun.
The mother,
And the father.
The introvert,
And the extrovert.
The dark,
And the light.

How does one cope with being,
The inbetween,
The balance,
The contradictory?

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.

Through my glasses,
I see the fine details,
The perfections,
And imperfections.

Through my glasses,
I see life,
And death,
And everything in between.

Without my glasses,
Things are a blur,
A fantasy,
A reality,
A separate world.

Without my glasses,
I look beautiful,
Everything does.

Sometimes when you need to see the most,
Things need to become hazy,
To see crystal clear.

Why would it seem that all the villains,
Are the most misunderstood?
One is never born simply 'evil'
They just grew up with problems,
Problems everyone else can get.
You never see problems with heroes,
Perhaps because they've come to just hide them better.
We should show care to everyone,
So no soul is left neglected,
As many are.
Then there would be no villains,
Then there would be no heroes,
Then there would be only people.
Like you and I.

Such a snake you are,
poisonous words dripping like venom from fangs under bitten lips,
striking at the ever-so slightest nudge of your tail,
retreating and hissing for help from those you belittle;
Do I really seem like such a foolish little mouse,
slave and prey to your every whim, every change of mind?
I'd like to think not;
For your cussing and fussing, screaming and shouting,
while throwing a little hissy fit, is not proper etiquette,
even for a reptile such as yourself.
Such a tiny wriggling thing must be put in its natural place,
relocated to where it cannot bite the children
to where it can go find others like itself,
away from the big scary predators that might hurt it;
Humans, cars, bikes, cats, dogs, oh the possibilities are endless,
but you wound up in my path, unlucky you,
a demonic and unforgiving rage personified;
If you are a snake, I am a dragon,
if you are a fish, I'm a bloodthirsty shark,
darling don't you see how this works?
I've dealt with you long enough, you pest, you ungrateful little thing,
my mercy is off, our truce is through, now God only knows what'll happen to you,
did you think me to be a kind human being?
Well, I guess you're mistaken, so take a number, sweetie,
I'll call for you when I'm done sending others to the graveyard,
for if you think I'd even hold you at the top of my list,
you're sadly mistaken, yet again;
You should probably stop trying to predict me,
stop blaming me for each little thing,
for a predator can't be blamed for taking out pests,
nor animal control for relocating vicious creatures;
You silly little snake, do you think yourself to be a viper,
when really you're just a common garter?

A tear drips onto a memory book,
oh how I wish I could return to the past,
fix every thing I know I messed up,
mend shredded wounds before they occur,
prevent disasters I should have seen coming.

None of that is important now,
my own faults behind me;
It's the good times I want to return to,
just to be there in those happy feelings again,
the times before the dark clouds settled and bred.

Back when mommy was always happy and funny,
beaming while singing Michael Jackson,
her pretty red hair usually in a bun,
reading in crazy voices to my sister and I,
always singing "You Are My Sunshine" before I slept.

Back when daddy still loved mommy,
while smiling and mowing the lawn,
letting me help him plant flowers in our garden,
his eyes I inherited shining when we laughed,
always helping me with the hard stuff like rounding numbers.

Back when my sister thought life was fantastic,
a grin forever engraved on her baby doll face,
playing dolls, fairies, princesses, ball,
leaping around the so-tall flowers,
eternally a child of youth and joy.

I could have been a better child,
could have kept everyone together,
could have prevented all of this disaster,
could have seen what I was doing to them all;
Now it's far too late.

Now mommy and I are always fighting,
stalking to our separate corners of the house,
she dyed her hair blonde, wears too much makeup,
we don't sing much anymore, or talk, or laugh,
the marks of sleepless nights haunt her face.

Now daddy drinks more beer than water,
he ran off with the gorilla girl, so mommy and him aren't together,
sees us on the weekends, seeming so happy without responsibility,
making sarcastic jokes and jabs about our mother,
pretending our problems don't exist anymore.

Now sister comes home crying,
she doesn't want to keep seeing days,
she hums the songs of our childhood to herself at night,
goes to bed to avoid all the chaos,
a miserable blank replacing the glowing smile.

Now nobody is smiling,
or at least, nobody means it,
nobody is happy,
because nobody can even fake it.

Our dreams of having a better life,
have smashed into the ground,
our hopes and wishes burned to death,
at the new reality we have found.

Now all the pieces are cracked and shattered,
there is no glue that could put us back together,
no kind words or songs of apology,
no magic that can change this stormy weather.

In the middle of the night, I sit and I write,
I could type all day with my things to say,
coming from a family now wanting to **** me,
for doing what I didn't know I could do.

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.)

It's people like me who can rule the world,
just by knowing simple little things like Fear.
Fear is one of the main driving forces behind all of mankind's actions.
Fear eternal torment? **** up to "God."
Fear the unknown? Deny it or mock it.
Fear superiors? Make yourself the superior one.
Without fear we won't do anything,
with fear we can only get worse as a species;
We're really slowly moving towards constantly fearing everything;
Especially each other.
Along with things known like;
No humans are equal.
With differing talents, differing thoughts, differing opinions,
how can we claim to be the same?
The strong will enslave the weak,
humanity will revert to olden times,
with fear we deny yet again, though it matters not.
The only question is, who will be strong and who will bow down?
the basics of human nature will come back,
Dominant verses submissive mindsets,
manipulators verses manipulated,
corruption verses purity.
People like me don't have much to worry about;
People always naturally follow and listen to me, and if they don't;
I can be forceful.
I'm a master organizer and networker,
throwing together alliances, plans of revolution, takeover,
by the time the sun rises.
Differences are seen in how you train your people,
much like dogs at that point, with either fear or affection.
Affection and care yields listening and following,
kind cooperation and content with and for a likeable face and likeable words.
Ingrain fear, order,  into them and reap the profits,
they'll listen because they have to, and won't revolt because they fear what would happen.
I wouldn't hurt 'em (usually),
I'm highly capable of doing damage;
It's important they know that.
Throw a demonstration of power, knowledge, in once and a while,
so they don't get used to me, and boom;
With all of this you have an overlord.
I don't think I'm a bad person though,
people like me are just human-smart.

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?

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.

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.

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.

Known for such cold air,
certainly freezing the hearts,
of all who enter,
though that's not the case at all,
I know this, the truth.

Such a lively place,
not lacking manners, customs,
strange compared to mine,
pleasant and enjoyable,
a change worth making.

Bad reputation,
there are some who represent,
but most don't come close,
prejudice is such a pain,
these people don't need.

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.

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.

What is love?
A gentle breeze on a summers day,
A cup of hot chocolate next to the fireplace in winter,
The crunching of leaves in the beginning of autumn,
The smell of earth as the flowers bloom in spring.
A fluffy cloud in an endless sky of blue wonder,
A seashell washed onto the shore of life's mysteries.
A melody sent down from angels,
A bird flying out of the safety of its nest for the first time.
A cat sleeping soundly on a blanket.
Where is love?
In our sweet embrace on a windy day,
In your eyes, full of kindness and your voice as you talk my worries away.
Iour arms as we hug goodbye, for what could even be the final time.
Love,
A wonderous dream not to be awakened from,
A reality separate from our world.
A godly experience.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Tendrils of regret snake up from the shadows,
I thought I had gotten away this time,
though it would appear I was mistaken;
As I usually am.
Ghosts of memories slip through my eyes,
blinding me to the present reality,
water of salt drips from my empty sockets,
as I fall into the nightmares of times long past.

The haze of dolor clouds my mind,
luring me back into feelings I thought were gone,
but of course, I was ever-so wrong;
As I usually am.
Demons smirk and scratch across my brain,
reminding me of their control,
for I was given an inch but took a mile,
unacceptable, I should have known.

Mania dances wildly across my sanity,
reminding me of what I never had,
though I thought I had regained it, I was incorrect;
As I usually am.
Friend-masked foes sing songs of betrayal,
piercing my ears so I can no longer hear the truth,
if I ever really heard it in the first place;
It is now that I'm senseless.

They call me austere,
Silent,
Judging,
Cold.
They call me loquacious,
Ebullient,
Bubbly,
Imaginative.
They call me vicious,
Solid,
Frozen,
Harmful.
They call me beguiling,
Beautiful,
Chimerical,
Quiescent.
I say I am aberrant,
Different,
Decent,
Unknown.
What truthfully am I?

There are two girls, best of friends,
walking through life, hand in hand,
quite opposites in many aspects,
though each to the other, respects.
One is pale, with hair spun gold,
the other fair, with waves of night so bold.
She has eyes with winter's mist, quite light,
the other's reflect a sunflower against the sky, a delight.
She of short height, the other tall,
one so delicately framed, the other not at all.
Though appearance wise, they're opposites still,
through their minds, and souls, their will,
they reflect the same, they of opposite seasons,
they know each others lives, each others reasons,
picking each other up, helping each other out,
comforting each with sense of doubt;
A most lovely foil'd pair, it would appear
bringing out the best in each other, so rare,
that neither cancels out the other,
neither's the fighter while the other's the lover,
Yes, this would be the best of matches,
sprung from a perfect friendship's hatches,
showing different people aren't different at all,
and that friends are friends, even if not similar at all.

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.

A young woman looks in the mirror,
And another young woman looks back.
Is it really her?
Her motions reflect reality,
But her appearance reflects her tragedy,
Her burden she must carry.
Is she thin enough,
Curvy enough?
Does she have a large enough chest,
A pretty face,
A dazzling smile?
The reflection will often tell her no,
And she will believe the reflection she sees,
Even if others show her the light of true self.
She will believe what she desires to.

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.

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.

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.

He loves me!
(He loves you not.)
Oh, look, he gave me flowers!
(That were on last-second sale, two-ninety-nine.)
Can you believe these diamond earrings?
(No, I cannot, for they’re costume,
fake like his love for you,
which lies only between his legs.)
Such a heart-warming card!
(To make up for the fact he totally forgot.)
How did I ever deserve this?
(You don’t, you deserve better.)
He must really love me!
(Or rather, fears your emotional wrath.)
He broke up with me.
“My sincerest apologies.”
*(As if I didn’t see it coming.)

There was a young girl sitting alone,
casually sipping her tea, such a pretty scene,
a razor on her thigh, waiting for a smooth victim,
a bottle of pills on the counter, waiting to be emptied,
a gun on the bed, waiting for sweet release.

Should she give in, which poison should she pick?
Let the pretty tablets fall on her tongue,
have her blood splatter the walls, the ceiling, the floors,
or let her die piece by piece, slice by slice on her wrist?

They tell her she’s beautiful, but it’s all for naught,
she believes they’re lies, all of it, lies,
blinded by the darkness of her mind’s illness.
They tell her they care, but it matters not,
she knows it’s all lies, false information,
deafened by the screaming of her mind’s demons.

They tell her she can talk to them, but she cannot,
her cries don’t escape, her struggles never heard,
silenced by the stitches of her mind’s distrust and paranoia.

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.

With purest wings and thoughts divine,
the soul, so pure, gazes down and smiles,
for humans are peculiar creatures indeed,
what would it be like to live like that,
if only she knew.

Day after day she watched them play,
at war with each other and themselves.
Day after day she watched them love,
themselves, each other, and everything else.
Their emotions so strong and clearly shown,
yet changing at the blink of an eye.
How? Why?

Little did she realize, cracks were forming fast,
her halo slowly becoming rusted as she smiled,
beginning to feel as they feel and know as they know,
from simple, innocent observance.

One day it finally shattered and underneath her,
her world of heavenly delight,
the highest beings were angry at her change,
tainted by humanity's thoughts,
wings ripped off and in a ****** mess,
she was kicked down to the world she so loved to watch.

Tears escaped her as the drop commenced,
betrayed by her now-felt emotions,
down she plummeted, but much too far,
now chained and slaved to the demons of her new nature,
lashed with pain and feelings unwanted,
though it was far too late to return,
so with screams of regret, words of rage,
she slowly sank to the level of the creatures,
only envied for their happiness,
which is sadly only found in innocence and ignorance,
neither of which is to be had anymore.

The raindrops fall from the sky,
creating comforting repetitive noise,
drips, drops, pattering around,
surrounding me with a soft blanket.

It seems they are all I can hope for,
the only friends I have in this world,
in my dark, grey world,
where nothing exists except the thoughts in my mind,
along with the water;
surrounding me, drowning me, escaping me.

Coldness clings to my body like a sheet,
not helping my usual temperature's apathy,
but within reminding me of feeling,
I grow not to mind it at all.

It is all I can expect anymore,
the lingering cold, the lingering whispers of noise,
the lingering loneliness it reminds me of,
in my dark, grey world where nothing exists,
not sunshine, nor happiness, nor myself;
just the rain and its comforting embrace.

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.

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.

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.

A friend that bleeds is a friend indeed,
perhaps I've gotten that saying wrong,
but we'll both laugh anyway;
It amuses us, throughout the day.

For they say the dead don't drip red,
the only way out is to cut off their head,
well, that wouldn't be very nice,
now would it?

Smirks and grins, twisted laughter,
surrounds the energy of insanity.
some could call a comfort zone;
We call it home sweetest home.

Sparks of mischief in your eyes,
quite mimic my own;
Intelligent life, recognized,
we know we're not alone.

Laughter, contagious,
jokes, outrageous,
smiles, sweet as can be;
With a little bit of devious flavor,
it all goes along well,
these little things noticed;
By only you and me.

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.

The pathway has been cleared,
after the struggles and efforts,
falling and rising like tides,
I'm finally where I belong.

My parents warned me,
"Don't you ever talk to strangers, especially online."
Well, I suppose I did not listen.
However, that decision,
Was the best I've ever made.

Tell me,
How is it that people are kinder here than face-to-face,
In the "real world."?
I met great friends,
Friends that accept me,
Friends that appreciate me,
Friends that love me.

So why would they warn us not to do this?
With wisdom, you know who not to trust,
With common sense, you know what not to do,
With common sense, you know what not to post.

Oh yes, that is correct...
Sense is not common anymore.
There are still liars,
Hunters,
Predators.

And parents wonder "What if?"
They run into one,
They talk to one,
They reveal everything to one?

There is a small chance,
But it remains there,
It is sempiternal, that fact.
And around that universal rule,
You learn.

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.

How dare you spit venom at me,
say you care,
warp my reality,
make my temper flare!

How dare you have the audacity,
to throw acidic memories in my face,
to have such total apathy,
to say I'm a sad disgrace!

You're a fool, liar, traitor;
I'm better off without.

I spy with my little eye,
lovers, fools, so blind,
to think that they know each other completely,
to think that they understand each other well,
to think that they adore them for them,
not for their kind words,
not for their sweet gifts,
not for their warm embrace,
nor their false confessions of masked lust.
For is that not what this love is,
a silly reality twister,
a drug giving you the highest high?
Ah, not without consequences;
seen when true nature creeps out,
when an argument turns to a grudge,
when trust crumbles and shatters,
over unknown information.
I refuse to take a dosage of this poison,
I see clearly and wish to remain with sight,
so perhaps some day I can indulge,
when I can have my love and see it too.

Behind your painted face I lay,
casually pulling strings and lovely emotions from you,
as you can only dance and do as I say.
My smile is wicked as I do my work,
stitching torn costumes, oh you poor dear,
listen carefully and you'll stay alive,
in this crazy, crazy circus where,
everyone has an act,
everyone has a part to play;
Yours is ever-so special, darling!
How lucky you are to have me,
as a friend,
as a mentor,
as a master.
A little bird told me you creaked out,
wooden limbs telling tales of abuse,
which is ridiculous, look at the smile I gave you!
Don't dare tell of the shadow behind you,
for Darkness can easily get darker and surround you,
until you have no more light to argue with.

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.

Where am I in the middle of the night,
lost with nobody to talk to,
not even myself.
Where is everyone in the middle of the night,
while I’m here silently dripping tears,
wishing they were here to comfort me.
Where is my support in the middle of the night,
as I’m wishing for hands to drag me,
out of myself and out of death’s grip.
Why do I cry in the middle of the night,
over every little painful memory,
even the ones I don’t quite recall.
It tears me to shreds,
suffering alone,
but I wouldn’t show anyone my wounds,
the ones that dance gracefully across my heart.
A little wound can get infected though without care,
oh how I have learned that well,
but who comes to save you when all the ambulances are busy?

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.