I see what he does.
He does what I do.
Checks back in to
See if those feelings
When proven correct,
We back away.
With memories flooding
Through and through.
Perhaps one day.
Stitches torn open on this heart of mine.
Your voice echoes inside my mind.
Dreams of memories flash before these eyes.
Pain and agony strangle me.
Evoking a misguided, tender voice.
I’ve blurred these images
And lived on before.
But this time I’m stuck on this (******),
My facade has shattered down.
This pathetic creature is left behind.
One you’ve always known to hate.
I wish that now I could escape.
This demon that I own and know so dear.
That leaves me shivering, quivering in fear.
The last breath of you draws so near.
Yet, I inhale.
Keeping the dream of you alive.
Afraid to let the years pass by
Without admiring you once more.
Afraid to close this lingering door.
Willing to believe anything to be by your side.
(Still I’m stuck crying, wanting to die.)
Oh how I’ve grown to love and hate.
Your “**** me”.Face
I have lived in the shadows
Of the melancholy lie.
One that I have weaved
So many times.
I sharpen the needle,
That has sewn together our souls.
I shall stab it into your heart
And watch your eyes turn to coal.
I will shatter your heart
As you have done to mine.
Leaving you burdened,
Tortured by this crime.
Tears shall stream down
Your monstrous face,
As you realize a demon
Has taken my place.
All of this talk is just a fallacy.
What I really want,
Is it to be,
Just you and me,
Imprisoned by our antagonizing lust.
Never being able to trust.
In constant obsession,
Of our undeniable love.
Being that there is no hope,
I shall make amends with my scapegoat.
Just wishful thinking
From this little girl.
That makes others curl.
It is wishful thinking
That keeps me alive.
That makes me want to die.
[Boredom is] like venom.
It lays inside your veins.
It lingers 'til circulation slows
And burdens you for days.
No antidote to cure this feign.
Mono would be better.
Different symptoms to
Boost excitement up.
Always an adventure.
I'll write until my hand is sore.
While the dragon's breath continues to pour
Over our future plans that seem to sink
And our minds that continue to think.
Historic events seem to repeat [itself]
As I lay doll-like on this towering shelf.
I replay the past events which haunt my dreams.
I layed beneath the dying tree
Staring at it’s gnarled branches.
They sprawled outward, trying
To capture the fluffy, pillow-like clouds
With their crooked fingers.
I close my eyes.
Am I like this tree,
Waiting for death to overcome me?
I sit in this unsifted ground,
Decaying and hating the beauty all around.
I sit and watch.
I wish to grow.
I wish to become beautiful.
But, Death’s grasp is strong.
My brittle bones break beneath Death’s fist.
I become gnarled, paralyzed, deformed.
I open my deep-blue eyes.
There, on the deathly-ill tree was a green leaf.
It is as green as the grass
On a nice, sunny, warm day in spring.
Greener, like the grass on the other side.
I smile a bright smile that can blind you.
I smile knowing the tree has a second chance
To be beautiful.
I smile knowing that I have a second chance
To be beautiful, inside and out.
I wonder if that tree can see me dream.
I am a leech.
Stuck on you and here to be your reminder
That I am here.
That I exist.
I constantly thirst for the need
To have you think of me.
I need you to survive.