Dear Edgar,
We've never met,
But I know why you walked the streets
Of Baltimore at 4 am.
I too walk the streets of my own mind,
Hearing the raven's cries
And walking up at midnight to the sound of a tell-tale heart
Wondering if it is nothing more
Than the bells in my brain
Or the black cat running up the alleyway.
Dear Edgar,
We've never met,
But I know why you walked the streets
Of Baltimore at 4 am.
I took have whisked into the shadows
An inky cloak upon my back
Wondering whether my heart feels more like a pit or a pendulum
Or whether I will fall like the house of usher,
A gold bug
In the masque of red death.
Dear Edgar,
We've never met,
But I know why you walked the streets of Baltimore at 4 am.
Never more
William Wilson.
And silence- a fable,
Or is it?

I refuse to explode into a shower of tiny sparkling embers,
Falling through the air like a snow globe when
The going gets tough.
I refuse to blow up like an atomic bomb
And annihilate anyone in my path,
When the going gets tough.
I refuse to hurt others,
Because I hurt myself.
I refuse to hurt the world,
When the world hurts me.

I sent it to you,
Somewhat encoded in an email,
But you never read it.
You said you're too busy,
I'll try to find some more time,
And sure you said it,
But meanwhile my cry for help
Is unanswered, and tell me,
Did you ever make me feel special?
Whenever your response comes,
If it comes,
I live to dread it

Long and thin,
Claw like,
Like spider's legs
Frail
They run
Faster and faster,
The talon-like nails tapping
The table,
Mimicking Beethoven's fifth symphony
We grasp
We clench
With white knuckles
a cold white
A hard white
An icy white
Holding onto the last life we have.
Without fingers,
We cannot hold each other's hands,
We cannot play music,
We cannot write our thoughts.
We are not human,
Without our
Fingers

There are instances where the people who need help are not always the ones who display there sadness,
But also the ones who hide it as well,
When they put on a cracked mask of deception and lies,
Filled with holes and crevices that consume all light,
To keep others from staring.

Sometimes, the ones who need help are the ones who constantly give it,
Trying to find a purpose for themselves by helping others,
They ignore themselves and seek to give them shelter,
Even when they are the ones who have left them alone,  

These people are the ones who suffer silently,
Because they are too afraid of the burden it would cause others,
Because they clearly see that their biggest problems involve seemingly trying to find demons to fight, instead of thanking God that they have none.

There are instances when these people begin to fill with hatred,
It creeps into their soul like spiders on webs,
And as their mind disintegrates under it's own weight,
They will put on their masks of cracks and lies so you don't stare.

Why do you weak your mask at me?
Do you think I will hurt you?
Do you fear my hate and scorn
To think that you weren't worth being born?
No, I wear a mask too.
But I will tear it off for you.
For I am not afraid of you.
So why are you afraid of me?

I'll probably cry myself to sleep again
It just can't be helped.
I've burdened those around me
With my happiness.
Am I not strong enough to stand on my own two feet?
Do I not trust myself?
I am despicable.
Ugly.
Worthless.
Why, why must I hate myself?
Because I don't trust myself?
I am alone. I have always been alone. Hiding inside the books,
Wearing multiple masks that no one
Bothered to take away.
Say something I'm giving up on you