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.

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.

"Write anything!" they say,
so I glance upon the blank slate of my mind.
I could write anything,
say anything,
feel anything I wanted;
but alas, all I'm left with is 'anything'.
Where is the structure,
where is the form,
where are the boundaries to work off of?
There is nothing, only 'anything',
which could be something but nothing at all.
My muse scrambles around trying to find,
an image,
a thought,
'anything' to work off of,
but alas, all I'm left with is 'anything'.

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.

Snowflakes fall and the world goes silent.
"Winter is coming, Winter has come."
People and children rush to windows,
In amusement and fear.
"It's so beautiful."
The white comes down and covers everything,
Our world is stained white.
It is frightening.
Curious hands open doors,
Then fall into Winter.

It was there that I waited, in the middle of the barren landscape.
Cold winds whipped my hair and nearly pushed me back.
I continued to wait.
Slowly, I became numb, and blind as the sun pierced my eyes.
I could feel the chill rising through me.
I continued to wait.
Lost voices screamed in the winds, deafening me.
My joints stiffened, as if losing youth to the old winter.
I stopped waiting.
Step by step, I moved through the cold.
People passed by and allowed me to continue.
I continued on.
Striving to reach somewhere, anywhere, my salvation.
The weight on my back hindered me, but I couldn’t remove it.
I pressed on.
A glimpse of a house on the horizon, with doors unlocked.
I fall before I can reach it.
I cannot go on.

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.

As the spiders weave their threads of doubt,
a shining blade comes to my rescue,
though also to my demise.

Whispers are conjured by the darkness;
They don’t love you, a slash confirms,
they don’t care, a slash accepts,
****** marks covering skin like a torn blanket.

Voices are echoing the past;
You deserve to die, a slash reminds,
you deserve to suffer, a slash insists,
spikes of pain traveling up veins.

Screams are pressuring the mind;
You’re a worthless thing, a slash states,
you’re so pathetic, a slash declares,
words etching in permanently.

Hollowness fills the heart;
You need to feel this pain,
you need to drown in it all;
Until you finally give up on yourself.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

The silence is so loud,
especially when you cannot see,
more so when you cannot sleep;
Always when you feel the least.

The room is so empty when you’re alone,
with nothing there but comforting darkness,
comforting silence, comforting nothingness;
When there’s nothing to distract you from you.

The night can be quite frightening,
as the hours grow long but time grows short,
when nobody is there to save you from yourself;
Especially when you give in to the abyss of it all.

Pardon me, dear, but I shall take my leave,
I intended to stay, yet I see I’m not needed.
Was I truthfully ever?
What hope was there, funny little speck of joy,
Has been ****** out by a single;
Word, breath, phrase.
I shouldn’t reach out,
Lest I get grabbed and forced to drain myself of,
Time, energy, caring, love.
When it’s just an insignificant boost to their day.
When I am nothing more than words on a page;
When I have faded to nothing more but a conversation.
I’ll stab my heart before I let myself feel that pain again.
Anything is better, death even is better, than that feeling,
I’m a toy.

Oh goddess of my thoughts and recollections,
lend me your calm mind,
your everlasting beauty in the way you remember,
the treasures within the past that you find;

Moments close to heart,
too much so to just slip away,
swirls of ink blot the page,
making sure it's all to stay.

A moonlit glow encircles my eyes,
as they no longer see the current time,
only the past mistakes and lies,
the experiences I thought were mine.

Oh goddess, Mnemosyne, lend me your name,
give me the strength to hang on,
aiding me in this battle of brain,
before it all disappears like dreams into dawn.

I can still feel the whispers of past bruises on my skin,
still hear your horrid screaming in my ear ringing,
still flinch whenever people come too near,
whether they be friends or family;
All because of one's silly games.

I still get paranoid as I speak my thoughts,
still get anxious when confessing feelings,
still refuse to put both feet in trust,
to anyone, even myself;
All because of one's silly lies.

I still bend to the painful expressions of others,
still throw myself to the sharks for the better,
still use myself as a shield for the undeserving,
for they're more deserving than I;
All because of one's silly traps.

Mistakes made thrice,
a curse from life,
giving me Lemon after sour lemon.
Perhaps a Clementine should come around,
tiny blessing as they are,
and give me a taste of sweetness for once.

Carry me home gentle,
to a land where angels sing,
where there is no pain;
Where I belong.

Wrap your arms around me,
so I may not be so cold,
so I am protected from my thoughts;
So I may feel again.

Whisper worries away,
putting my heart to rest,
my mind to silence;
My soul assured.

Give me a lift some day,
help me to escape myself,
my troubles;
Along with nothing at all.

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?

Rough breaths escapes me,
dashing through the shadow'd night;
My mind is triggered by a known scent,
as are the others who soon redirect,
towards what we all know is a common goal;
Survival.

Claws dig into the dirt,
springing me forward faster and faster,
eyes glinting brightly in the darkness.
Someone caught sight, a howl sounds,
speeds increase with strengthened bounds,
towards what we all know is;
Survival.

Determination radiates from all,
coming together slowly and surely,
power pulsing and connecting us.
Right in front of me is the target,
I lunge in and latch on,
confirming that we all get the common necessity;
Survival.

There are billions of colors in this world,
Some we cannot even put a name to.
It is with those colors that we paint our canvas of life.
Everyone creates a different painting,
Even if the colors are the same.
Do you have the bright blue of the summer sky?
Or perhaps a professional gray?
There are colors for what we do, what we think.
Though the colors we cannot explain,
Are the ones that can be anything we feel.
What color is love, pain, anger?
That is where the art gets unique,
As nobody can agree on the meaning.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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.)

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

May you take my breath away,
gasp by gasp in fear, in laughter, in anger,
until there is no life left in my hollow lungs.
When you stand before me, looming like the devil I know,
I can only stare in horror as my soul is claimed by the unknown.
My eyes can only widen in the pure terror;
As it's happened again, though this time,
I should have known better.
It's not the first, oh no,
definitely not the first time,
I've been betrayed, I've been hurt, I've been stabbed,
though it hurts freshly nonetheless, bleeding softly into the night.
I should have known you were no different,
I should have known you were not like minded,
I should have known you would come to hurt me;
Though in my happiness, I was ignorant,
the shame, the shame, oh what a shame I am now,
within my mind and memories of lessons I had learned,
yet horribly forgotten.

Lifelessly, I drop to the ground,
but fall straight through, already a phantom.
Seeping through the dirt, weeping while going down,
eventually I hit rock bottom.

Where are you?
I reach my hands up,
claw at the rock above until bloodied.

Did you leave me?
Fists slam against the boards,
punching until bruised and knuckles broken.

Is it me?
Hopeless cries to the upside,
screaming until raspy and sore.

Lifelessly, I drop to the ground,
and shatter against the earth.
Nobody can hear my pleas,
and Nobody cares.
Where are you, Nobody?
A whimper in the night echos.

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!)

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.

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.

You cannot 'choose' a cat,
it must be the other way around.
Why else would they scratch and hiss;
They simply don't want to be there,
even if you'd really like them to.
My dearest friend was almost evicted,
for she didn't get along with my family,
didn't care for her mother or siblings,
but we let her stay,
for she chose me.
She'll curl into my lap, so trusting,
purr with content when I'm around;
No, it's not my fault she's unkind to most people,
there aren't a lot of people I like either,
cats simply choose who they like and stick with them,
nobody can change that,
or even hope to know that,
until they are chosen themselves.
If they are never, well,
then they weren't meant to own a cat anyway!

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.

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.