Sitting motionless and colorless, you wouldn't dare guess he's fearless when hiding behind two holes and a nose He sits a very scared little man.
An anxious and weak, small man. A man who can't look his server in the eye, A man who sits nervously on the subway, The same man that convinces himself five times that he has in fact locked his front door, regardless of the seven times he's checked before.
He's lonely. Lonelier than the budding flower with no one to enjoy it's beauty Lonelier than the naïve, bopping teen that truly thought she was loved deeply.
But the disguise he wears keeps him company in dark times. It reminds him that victims cannot poke fun when you have already poked the victim.
Warm bloodstreams pour from their wounds, soothing the hidden man's very own wounds.
His mask allows him to be free, even when it's the very thing that keeps him chained.
They say anyone can put on a façade, but very few men are greater than the mask.
He calls me M.Ery when I'm writing, and honey when I'm sweet with kisses. My ears ring with lover when he's wrong, and mini dancer when I sway. I'm darling when he needs me, and love when he's too blue. His devotion has many names, and I hope he knows, mine does too
Lace on my thighs and fringe around my neck, more is revealed than the flowing crimson blood. Bleeding deeper and deeper with every slowed breath.
Deeper than the girls I see with their shoulders against the wall, the dream girls with their purple hair and tattered tights. My neck growing saturated with strawberry nightmares, but at least they like my tattoos.
I feel the black cats circling my ankles, cries of hunger and any form of normalcy or stability. It feels familiar, like a hymn from my childhood throbbing between my ears.
Overlooking other's carnage is easy, until it's your own.
Hot pancakes at 11 PM, dark roast coffee that burns my mouth, Vanilla wafers and skim milk, Moby's soft meow when she circles my toes, the view from my messy desk, frigid winter days, frigid winter nights, showing others my favorite movies, feeling myself, hearing loved ones say my name, the thought of a stable future, forehead kisses, bad cult classics, spontaneous day trips, the ability to live for new things, the feeling that I'll make it out just fine, now knowing I'll make it out just fine