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792 · Dec 2011
For Quinn
Merlin Dec 2011
Handsome face chiseled by a Greek sculptor
Your bass guitar I could listen to forever
Deep, resonant music like that of a cello
I suppose what I'm trying to tell you
Person, friend, in this letter
Is I would like to know you better
Since my identity I am hesitant from just giving away,
Identify me not by name rather by the instrument I play:
A silver and black woodwind.
This poem I conjured for a certain somebody and gave to him. I have yet to hear his response.
649 · Feb 2012
Home Hungry Heart
Merlin Feb 2012
I twist the black plastic button
sewn on my dark gray coat
I suddenly sit up and take note
Of the patients dragging around
Their listless, drone expressions
I ignore them all and stare straight on
A world that is mundane and colorless
I don't want to be trapped here
I want to go where
At night, I stretch my legs out with disregard
of whether I will bump into another person
Where the soft golden glow of the lamp
is way better than the fluorescent lights
Where solitude is bliss and not
hellish screams of my brother's baby at night
Where the soft covers caress my bruises
instead of the white sheets exacerbating
Home sweet home
is where my heart truly rests,
at peace with my body mind and soul
Where my violin sits on the chair
My clarinet on the wooden desk
My music stand staying tall, waiting
for me to look at it once more
I will return soon, don't worry
my sore, lonely, dejected
Home hungry heart
I wrote this poem when I was sitting in the hospital waiting room, since my brother is in the hospital, and I was feeling homesick for my violin and clarinet, plus lonely, so here it is. :/
571 · Jan 2012
Crimson Masks
Merlin Jan 2012
Striking the last blow without being noticed
That's how I scraped by each day
Under this crimson sky like a lie
I don't recall what I'm afraid of
Looking down at this oblivious city
I destroy things at my whim
Or I'll set them on fire
Just to see something other than my heart burn
Engulfed in crimson flames
Leaping, roiling, licking the tips of my mind

I don't really mind all of this sorrow
I actually enjoy it
I don't want any of your sympathy
I want to see you angry
Anywhere or in front of anyone
I want to be myself

The shadow of a shadow that was dragged out
Lonely days are soaking in
Like the blood from your cuts
Even if the world is annoyed yet again
I will scream it again once more
Don't stare at me so
It'll be perfect if your eye slide out of focus
I feel like I'm vulnerable to you
Even if I'm not happy with the future that's mirrored before me
In a mirror that mocks, that lies right to your face
tears your dreams like paper as you cry in grief
The mirror shatters, you're covered in blood,
And your eyes slide back into focus
The truth was there all along, dancing in your peripherals
And now standing there like a guilty little boy

I don't mind all of this sorrow
I'm used to it
I don't want any of your sympathy
I've had enough of it
Anywhere or in front of anyone
Let me take off this painful mask
And be myself.
I created this poem in tribute to my anger, and I just let the words flow. Don't really care if you like it, my free verse poem. :/
473 · Jan 2012
Dark Windows
Merlin Jan 2012
If the world belonged to you
Heaven would be for her
Look through the dark windows
At what used to be mine
Find the pieces of what I was missing inside
My imperfections, flaws, errors
She didn't have, she is perfect
She who she holds with love and care
And all I can do is stare
Dark windows become clear now
With the the light I've been avoiding all along
This delusion cracks me inside
And streams down my face in rivers
Beautiful, endless rain, down the window pane
If the world belonged to me
Hell would be for you all.
Basically my being vengeful and sad over my so called best friend abandoning me for another friend, who was perfect...in her eyes. Realizing she wasn't a real friend at all, so the "dark windows" become clear with the truth.

— The End —