Straight and proud

Let me iron your mind
Let the creases
On your daily deeds' sleeves
Smooth down and vanish
The iron of my words will
Float upon the collar of your views
And the little pocket
Smothering your heart
Well, I may burn it
Accidentally - I'm not good
At ironing
But let me iron the back
So that you always stand
Straight and proud

An evil queen ruled so unfair
Turning peasants away.
Orders smoothly “bow down to me”
She sneeringly would say.

I am her servant but a
Loving childhood friend.
Misguided by our parents
She followed their harsh trend.

A prince from another country
Caught the queens glowing gaze
But he turned his head away
for another girl of praise

I fell in love with a peasant
Skin as fair as pure snow
When my queen asked of her dispose
I could not tell her “no”.

Her people acted against her
Rule by forcing down her door
Unknowing of her strings of fate
Her servant gave a roar.

I offered to take her place as queen
Since we’re born as twins
before she could protest once word
I put on her royal pins.

The queen watched her brother, with shock,
Leave the safe castle gates
She put on a peasants old cloak
Worrying of both fates

I am now the evil queen and she
Is now the queens small maid
I stand up on this pedestal
Upon the peoples raid.

The maids gaze stopped on the queen
With tears in her green eyes
As the blade dropped down upon him
Bloodying the blue skies.

Your body screaming out in pain
The malevolent flame in your eyes
The decadence you taste
The death you reek of
You're petrified in malice
The god of your own demise
I hope you're happy now
Knowing you ruined a life
You never knew was worth living

Perhaps the familiar yet unnoticed crevices in the walls must mean more to me than the very same crevices which will forevermore remain hidden in the depths of my heart.

They're all pieced together,
forming an abstractly numb
piece of art.

Incisions, Incisions,
Made by false, ignorant decisions.

Beautifully arrayed intervals of nothing but enigmatic space.

When you part, your soul hath but a trace.

Done caring.

About the permanent , lethal damage that has been done

By far more than just one.

Speaking to Dragons is oft' absurd
Quite Frequently they don't  
understand a word                                                             ­                                                 
they snort and blow  Because you know  
They will only listen to Dragons tales
they lower their heads and sigh,                                                            ­                                                                 ­   
to hear of kings,with Golden Wings    
that ruled Against the Sky
Dragons Crowned Above the ground                                                           ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­          
Against a Sky of Azure Blue,    
Where Royal Dragon Kings Flew, and with                          
Terror and Fear for when they were near    
All knew to do their Biddings Bane      
Or feel the whip of brimstone flame    
more and more they became bejeweled        
Till to the Sky they Could Nor Rule    
and Fires hot became now cool
And in the End they lost the Fire    
Having Chained themselves to their own Desire    
The listening beast shed one single Tear
.........................JMF 10/21/2014

I’m constantly tottering on the wall of It’ll Get Better and Suicidal,  whispering to both

" How?”

How can anything get better, but how could I take my life and any chance that it will?

When I was in sixth grade a test asked me what I wanted to do after highschool, and I didn’t know how to answer because..

I didn’t even plan on living past highschool.

So I filled in the buubble beside other, and when my teacher took me outside the classroom to ask that godforsaken question Why?,

I fibbed and said college wasn’t for me, and that I wouldn’t need it for my dream job.

I didn’t mention that I couldn’t afford college, or my suicide plan, or the fact that I had no dreams.

Now, not long after, I’m intent on breaking myself until I shatter, desperate to feel anything after I died inside so long ago and left a scarred shell behind that walks and talks and laughs and smiles, but most of all hides and cries.

I’ve tried suffocating myself. I tried drowning myself. I dont cut simply because I can’t find a blade.

I have dreams but I’m constantly assured by EVERYONE I won’t be anything special I nod and change the topic because I know.

<p>I’m abused and home and I know I deserve it, every nasty truth they sneer before saying they love me and sending me away, every hit that lands hard enough to hurt but either smartly hidden or delivered in a way I won’t bruise.  I’m breaking,

With few things giving me happiness, and humans bringing me pain with nasty looks and cruel words that hurt so bad but I nod and agree.

My friends don’t even know how much it hurts me to hang around them, as my darkest demons whisper how much happier they would be without me.

But selfishly I cling to them.

I need help but I dont deserve it, and I’m so, so sorry to whoever read this that I bothered you.

But again tonight I'll whisper to both sides.
How can it get better?
How can it get worse?

When Moonlight wens upon the moore
And Starlight knocks upon your door.
When thrums the hum of Faerie Wings
And the Harpen sound of Elfen strings.
Accompanied by dark Dwarven drums
The music of the night doth come.

A Shaman tends with Force of Night
A Silver Sword of fierce Light.
The wounds flow. The battle bounds
Thunder of Hooves upon the ground.
Tirelessly on the battles fight
But fades away in Mornings light.

And now that morning light is near
I arise from sleep with vision clear.
And the webs of tiredness
Fall from my eyes.
My new day begins
Under the skies…...JMF 11/9/14