I'll hold you in my heart
Until I can hold you in my arms
I'll cling to every word you say
And wish you weren't so far away

I'll kiss you softly whenever I can
Because I don't know when I will again
And who cares what the world thinks of us
When I think the world of you

So yes, perhaps distance is a drag
And yes, people can be too
But love of mine please give it some time
Because in time I'll be with you

You stepped on stage,
And people ohh-ed,
And ahh-ed,
There were murmurs of,
“He’s cute.”
But something wasn’t right.
Something was off about you,
And it seemed oh so familiar.
Where have I heard of this?
Where have I heard of a person having those same…
Characteristics?
You’re charm,
How charismatic you are,
How people seemed to worship you?
Odd.
Up on that stage,
I saw you,
But you were tainted,
Something…
Messed up.
You seemed to be radiating.
But it wasn’t love,
Or charm,
Or anything like that you were radiating,
It was evil.
Pure madness.
And then you smiled,
And won over the hearts,
Of many,
Many people.
Where have I heard of these characteristics before?
They sound so familiar,
Like something I learned in school.
Oh,
I know.
History.
I learned of a person like this in History class.
His name was ******,
And all the things people are saying about you,
They said about him.
Be careful my darling,
History repeats itself.

So many words flowing through my head...
How can they translate,
And flow,
Into a beautiful creation,
Such as a poem.

I write many poems,
When I talk,
The words flow out,
So beautiful,
Like poetry,
Like a true poet.
But,
Then when they go to paper,
They're clumsy as ****,
They don't make sense.
They're just like my mind.

I wrote one poem,
Earlier today,
That I really wanted to share.
But its so sad,
And depressing.
It would cause people to worry,
Theres no need to worry.
My words are great,
My poetry is fine,
And my mind is destroyed.

The human skin can be hard to live in,
That's why most of us tear it.
And I, my loves,
Am a hypocrite

I tell you not to tear such precious, innocent skin
While late at night
I hold my blade
And carve it in.

I like to push oh so hard.
Only to get the adrenaline
of seeing the blood and make sure I am still alive
Though I feel as if I'm not at all alive anymore

I'm a zombie
living in the palest of skin
And if your lucky
I'll let you in.

It doesn't happen often
But for some it may
Those lucky few
Will be dismayed

For I seem like a bright ray of sunshine
In this dark dark world
But jokes on you
I'm the darkest of them all.

words are better on paper and candlelight
the smell of ink and crisp turns of pages white
the binding creaks and soul writ in
this screen is not the same thing friend
it's maddening for this phone to change my words
ah, how often it does so
as if it knows
as if it grows
what could it show
when has itself,
alone so rowed
of feelings felt
or horrors shown
or magick felt
or fury spoke
or walked along a razors edge
hanging on by just a thread
or strained beyond all known thought
or had a thought that wasn't taught
or quenched a lust
so fervent wrought
or plagued its mind
with glory sought
or told a tale
that others'd not
what a soul
that this thing's got