I crossed a Black Cat's path today,
He stared me down with his Golden Moon-Eyes;
Hushed and Silent Eyes that, still,
Said many words often unheard by human ears,
Even Cat-people, like myself.
An intertwined dare and threat,
Lightly glossed with acknowledgement:
"Cat-person, what are you doing,
To think yourself so inclined
As to cross a Black Cat-Path, such as mine?"
I quickly apologized for my error, and he turned his back,
Already onto some matter of important business.
Thus I got to wondering, as it were,
If perhaps when I crossed his path
It was to him bad luck was brought,
Hence the sulky look of the poor Black Cat…

Have you ever felt everything?
On top of the world, so to speak,
As if you could fly and grow wings
If you only took that first leap,
A fire of passion inside you burns
Yearning to explode; burst.
So much is raging, inside you singing,
Life is beautiful, because I am simply
Alive.


Surprise.


It's consuming, the emptiness,
No outburst of rage or affection,
I just look on, with glazed impassive eyes
As they speak to me of many things
Expecting a reaction that never comes,
The apathy would be terrifying,
If I could feel fear.
Have you ever felt nothing?


Panic; is that an emotion?
Attempt to control the oncoming surge of numbness,
Do anything to feel something,
I've tried it all; thrills, comforts, pleasures.
Pain.
Few have an effect
And of those that do, few last.
I thirst for more hurt,
Just something to feel...
Anything.


Hopefully these images flow in and out of your head
Without grabbing hold,
Floating,
Just like me.



Think to yourself, 'she's crazy,'
And along with the world
Stare quietly.

I'd love to flirt/charm/be proactive,
I find you sweet/funny/attractive,
You're far too absent/distant/out of sight,
I wish you'd come over/call me/write...

You think you know the game so well,
But I know that boy; I've heard the stories they tell,
So you decided to go and pretend like you fell for him,
Silly little girl, with no idea what you've gotten yourself into.


Say I'm being selfish, it's not fair, I have no right,
Yet people who're proven true friends are on my side?
Lust, pride, wrath or envy, go right ahead, name my sin,
Cast the blame upon myself, you weren't such a good friend to begin with.

He's going to tear your heart into pitiful puny pieces,
and I'm just going to sit back and watch it all with interest,
and when you come to me for comfort, I'll let out a laugh,
because it never would've happened had you not stabbed me in the back.

As my fickle pen sweeps across the chosen page,
Its unsteady stream of ink spouts scattered thoughts of thou…
Oh, that my grief were not so! If only my mind could wander
Without inevitably pausing upon thy fabricated tombstone!
But alas, for such luxury is not mine to own, that pleasant sense
Of rightness in the world so often dubbed peace of mind
For mine is not to be had, for how can there exist
Peace of mind without peace of heart? There ‘tis
I find the keeper of my despondency, my heart is at war!
Not warring another, mind, but with itself!
The ceaseless battle rages, with neither side being the victor,
Instead, my heart is torn apart…but who am I to complain?
For were my heart a whole, it would do an equal good
As that it does in two. What good is a flower
That has no stem to hold it upright? Instead of embracing
The sun, it floats aimlessly downstream ‘til
It disappears beneath the current, ne’er to be seen again.
This t’would be the fate of my heart were’t to remain whole.
Thus, by waging war upon my emotions I succeed
In preserving my sanity. For this, and this alone,
I thank thee. For without the pain dealt me by thine hand
I would still be drowning. Not drowning in sorrow,
As a part of me has already done, but drowning in illusion.
This illusion that I so easily fell victim to suffocated
All my senses, particularly that of reality, leaving no barrier
Between thy murderous rage and my vulnerability.
The knife thou plunged in my chest will forever be the divider
Between what was and what remains: The object
Of my devotion and destruction, one and the same,
Yet separate, for a part of me is remains willing to die
For love of thou, but still the other part is willing to die for none.
To die willingly by another’s hand is different than to die by thy own,
If only because thou diest knowing ‘twas another’s will.
Thus I inherently refuse to surrender my whole heart
To another’s cause, and so the battle rages on…

Is it really possible you do not notice the near-deafening
Pounding of my heart whenever you are near?
Every morning I awake with the persistent hope
Of spending simply a moment in your presence!
Scarcely a second passes out of your company
Within which you are not dominating my mind…
Is it truly undetectable, how unintelligible
I become when you speak to me?
The press of your palm against my back
Sends shivers up and down my spine…
The brush of your strong fingertips
Against my hand causes my entire body to tremble…
The gaze of your sweet eyes into mine weakens me
To a state where merely standing is difficult…
Yet you remain unaware of the absolute control
You possess over my entire persona!
It was years ago I fell in love with your laugh,
And your smile enraptures me to this day…
If only I could summon the courage
To tell you how I feel around you!
But alas, for I fear my insignificant existence
Is barely prominent in your beautiful world…