My eyes transmute to dark, forest tones.

(Isn't the forest supposed to be beautiful?)

She's beautiful; nothing at all like me.

I make acrimonious convictions about her, and

Sadly,  it provides me so much relief.

I shouldn't preoccupy myself with such maliciousness,

I am desirous of who you are.

Lately, it's been memories
and sleepless nights.
My bed, our bed,
these sheets still smell like you.
I swear I hear your voice
echoing through the walls
at three in the morning, and
I'm awake for another sleepless
night.
I almost called you,
but I convinced myself not to.
Sometimes I have to remind
myself to breathe.
"Just breathe."

I have to remind myself that
the world isn't over, and that
my shoulders have carried far more
weight than that of the pain you
have caused me.
I can heal.
I need to remember that
yesterday is gone; it no longer
exists. I can't keep dwelling on
a past that doesn't
dwell on me.
I can do this.

You know, I think I've known
For quite a while now.
The constant sneaking around,
The ******* up.
Oh, honey, you're not
As smooth as you thought.

No, you're not sly at all.
You don't think I've heard
You giggling and
Groaning at three in the morning?
You must mistake me
For a fool, dear.

And I guess that nothing
Feels as good as her skin
On your's, right? Her
Moans of ecstasy are music
To your filthy ears. You
Can't keep your stained hands off.

I'll pull the knife out of
My back and cut your heart
Out, because baby, all I
Wanted was your heart. I
Hope the blade feels like
Your frigid fingertips.

"How does that feel? "
Your body is covered in her
Sweat, your blood, my rage.
Oh, darling, have you ever
Felt anything like this before?
"Does that feel good, baby? "

Blood thirsty, love turned me
Into a psychopath. Let me tear
You apart, limb by limb,
Just like you've done to me.
Feel my pain;
Suffer like I have.

She always thought
The willow was in disguise.
Its drooping branches
Reminded her too much of her eyes.

The way its leaves give
Too easily in the breeze
Reminds her of how she
Gives her love to men with ease.

Just as the willow
bends under the snow,
stress takes her to
a place far below.

But the roots are strong
and steady in the storm;
lost in the shadows,
but the sun will be warm.

The storms will be brutal,
and they won't always be fair;
but just like the willow,
Spring will put flowers in her hair.

Tonight, I'll be at it again.

I'll search the streets like
A detective searching for a
Lost child. Ironic, isn't it,
that detectives are looking for me?

But I'm undetectable, because
I look just like everyone else.
Except I'm not like everyone else;
I'm a monster, Satan in the flesh.

I'm a skilled hunter, just like
A lion. I'll sneak up on you,
And you won't know I'm there
Until I'm tearing into your skin.

The media is saying I get off on
This, well, maybe I do.
Every scream and cry for help
Is stored carefully in my brain.

The term "serial killer" is so
Unfitting. Although I do prefer
Pretty blondes with blue eyes, I'd
**** just about anyone.

Their eyes are my favorite;
That's what gets me every time.
The way they fill with horror
Just before the life drains from them,

It's exhilarating; it's ****.
I cannot deny that it
Gets me off, it's the biggest
Thrill I've ever felt.

And the media lies to the
People, saying I'll be caught
And you'll be safe. I am
Unstoppable, I'll never be found.

I'm your worst nightmare;
Lucifer is my middle name.
This is all a game to me,
And it will never end.

Tonight, I'll be at it again.

She'll wake up at noon and
Dread getting out of bed.
At one, she'll get up and
Pretend that she's "just tired".
At two, her stomach is begging
For food, but she's too fat to eat.
She'll work out at three for her
Dream body, but it's only bones.
Her mother will come home from
Work at four and say she looks sick.
Dad comes home at five and
He'll say that she needs some meat on her.
The smell of a well cooked meal will
Flood her nostrils at six. Her stomach growls.
At seven, she'll give in and eat
With her family, but only a little.
Her little brother calls her fat
At eight 'o' clock; it'll make her cry.
When everyone heads to bed at nine,
She'll sneak to the bathroom to throw up.
At ten, she'll go back to bed
And cry because she isn't good enough.
She'll get a text message at eleven,
And she'll hope it's from the boy she loves.
When she's getting bullied at midnight,
She'll cut her wrists to feel better.
At one in the morning, she'll sob
Into her pillow until her heart tears
On into two a.m.
At three, she'll lie awake,
Unable to cry anymore.
She'll try to bandage her
Too damaged wrists at four;
And at five, she'll realize
That she doesn't care anymore.
At six a.m., she'll find a pen
And paper to write a letter.
She'll cry so hard that she'll
Have to start over at seven.
A knock at the door, a reminder
For school, will startle her at eight.
She will make up an excuse at
Nine for why she needs to go in late.
Her mother will leave for work
At ten, and she'll place her note conveniently.
Her mother with receive a call from
The school at eleven, she'll rush home angrily.
She'll burst into her daughters room at
Noon to find her motionless; a minute too late.

The L.O.Z.,
The place to be,
The party town of Missouri,
Is what I call home.

The hills of the Ozarks
House every known allergen, as
Well as families that are cooking
Something to be paranoid about.

This man made body of
Water holds the rumors of
Dead bodies and piranhas
That parents tell as wives tales.

The forever changing lanes
Of highway will lead you
To the same place; once
You're here, you'll never leave.

The rolling landscape is covered
In litter and overgrown weeds.
Crosses from car wreck casualties
Line the roads like misplaced bones.

Everyone that isn't from here
Thinks that this is paradise.
Everyone that lives here
Calls it the State of Misery.

She walked to the
Beginning of time,
Just to clear her head.

She hoped that if
She went back to the
Past, she'd understand

What went wrong.
The memory replayed
Like a stuck record.

He walked to the
Front door, so early
In the morning that

The sun had barely
Risen, and shadows
Scattered across the

Ground like the ****
Of his cigarettes and
Cans of beer.

She remembered that
He didn't drink,
And knew something was

Wrong. She ran to
The front door,
Just in time to see

Him leaving.
"Where are you
Going, Daddy"

He smiled sadly
And kissed her
Forehead.

"Daddy's gotta for
For a while, until
Mommy is happy again."

She didn't quite
Understand, she
Thought he'd be back

Soon. But it took a
Walk through time to
Understand that he wasn't

Coming back; that
Mommy and Daddy
Were done for good.

Mommy's excuse was that
Daddy was work bound,
And he'd come back soon.

But the truth is, Daddy
Didn't want to face his babies,
So he disappeared early in the morning.

My most harmful flaw
Is the insecurity within
Myself.

I am not unhappy
With myself, but
I am not content.

I love a boy with
All that I am,
And I'm terrified.

Even though he tells me
Daily not to worry about him,
I worry every second.

Because I've been hurt
So much before, it's hard
To trust the now.

I'm jealous of every
Girl that he's ever
Looked at.

I envy every girl
That has ever laid their
Eyes on him.

I'm not perfect,
But he is,
And he deserves better.

I push people away
And cry when
I'm all alone.

The boy I love
Can read me like a book,
This is the first time this has happened.

I won't sing for him
Because my voice will
Falter in front of such perfection.

I can't say I'm happy
With who I am, but I'm
Happy with who I'm with.

I can't make his
Dreams come true,
But I'll try my best.

Love me like your favorite novel,
The one with the crinkled corners and
Worn out spine; the one that reminds
You of yourself through the words of
An author.

Love me like your favorite song,
The one you took the time to learn
Each and every lyric and chord; the one
That spoke to your heart and gave
You hope.

Love me like your first memory,
The one that seems like it happened
Just yesterday; the one that you hold
On to the strongest and remember
The longest.

Love me like today's our last and
Tomorrow is non-exsistent. Love me
Like I'm all you have left. Love me
Like I've dreamed, like I've been told in
Fairy tales.

The black and gray shading
that shadows the
bones and
the artist's emotions;
What's going through your mind?

Has the beautiful
collage of color that once
was the love you had for
her
faded away?

Are the barren bones
scattered about the canvas
actually pieces of
your newly
broken heart?

Or maybe the neutrality
of the gray shows
your indifference to the
fact that now,
She's gone.

What's going through your mind?
While your hand shook as you
carefully drew every detail in
the skull,
did you wonder about her?

When the side of your palm
collects shards of granite as you
shade in every corner of the canvas,
did you recall the way her
skin felt against yours?

What was going through your mind?

Tears made of blood falling down her cheeks. Help her.

"Come over tonight,
I'm craving your love.
I'm begging for your touch,
I'm hungry for your kiss.
Baby, wont you come over?"

You put on his favorite perfume:
The purple bottle of Vera ****,
the one with the cap shaped
like a crown. Tonight, you're
hoping to be his princess.

Once you arrive, you walk right in.
He doesn't greet you at the door,
but that's okay. He never has.
You come to his room, he doesn't say
a word, only strips you of your coat,

your Victoria's Secret lingerie, and
your dignity. You go through the
motions of what seems like making love.
But you know you're putting passion into
something that is incapable of giving it back.

Your kiss is full of want,
his has no feeling.
Every touch becomes more caring,
but from him, its only a game.
You know that he doesn't want anything more.

When he falls asleep, you're left to
lie in the sweat, shame, and disgust.
You thought it was different this time,
but its never different. You can't refuse
his sensual offers, the stealthy ways of

getting all that he wants from you.
It isn't your fault, but it is.
Your constant requirement of love
makes it impossible to refuse him.
"Baby, wont you come over?"

Tonight while you're sleeping,
I'll write about you until
my eyes can't stay
open anymore.

Tonight while you're sleeping,
I'll tear at my skin like it's on
fire, trying to figure out what's wrong
with me.

Tonight while you're sleeping,
I'll rip out the tear-
stained poetry that I've written
about you.

I'll cry and ask God why
I keep ******* it all up.
I'll do all of this tonight while
you're sleeping.

"When we love someone, they live within us."

Why do they have to live within us?

I can hardly live within myself.

Lying quietly on the other side of the room,
ignoring the fact that
the couple in the house is your only company,
and you are merely dust in the wind.

Them together only reminds you of how
much you miss him,
and how badly you wish that he was
here with you, because you're left out.

The sounds of their kisses,
their giggling,
it drives you mad
simply because you can't do the same.

Because you are here with them,
their only company is each other,
and he is too far away.
Their "togetherness" is enough to drive you mad.

(I) You are the aching addiction
that's raging through
and destroying
my body.
My veins explode at the thought
of you; you're a drug.
I want you.
I need you.

(II) The cold sweats that'll keep me awake;
the blissful thoughts of you make me shake.
Dear, you don't understand what's at stake,
but I can't stop craving you, for my sake.

(III) The risks are high
with you, and so am I.
You're my personal brand of
every drug I'd ever need:
my ******,
my *******,
my everything.
Oh, darling,
don't you understand
the
risks?

(IV) Relief...

Oh beautiful, terrible relief.
You craves me just as I
craved you;
you provided me with temporary
satisfaction.

My drug, my personal brand.
You're dangerous and
you're lovely;
you're slowly killing me and providing
pure ecstasy.

In my state of nirvana,
I will never know that
I've done wrong.
I will never understand that
you're my addiction

and my relief.

Sweet, sweet relief.

(V) My high is gone,
and so are you.

Where did you go?

I know the craving will come back;
God, why did I have to do this?

Where did you go?

I'll lie awake: shaking, begging for your return,
for the deadly happiness that I miss so much.

Where did you go?

The demons inside shriek for you;
my blood barely flows from the lack of you.

Where did you go?

My poison, my drug,
please come back and cure my cravings again?

Where did you go?

I'll lie here and curse your name
and try to be angry with you,
even though I know my attempts
will end as a massive failure.

I'll cry my eyes out and
scream until my lungs are weak,
although it's pointless because
I will always come running back to you.

I'll put myself through Hell
and tear myself to pieces for ******* up,
simply because I will feel it's my fault,
even if you tell me that it isn't.

I'll pretend that I'm okay
and slap a fake smile on my face,
because it's all I can do without you.
Don't you know that I need you?

Please,
just need me, too.

The way the new morning sun
shines on your bare, pale skin
is magical.

Your blue eyes, barely open,
focusing on mine, put me in
a trance.

Your lips, kissing the sleep off of
my body, makes me fall even more
in love.

My heart has the delicacy of lace,
and is as intricate as the patterns of my brain.
His hands are rough and soft at the same time,
and his eyes are as unforgettable as the sunset at sea.

And my God, he could crush me.

When I'm with him, he's the only one I see;
the world is empty in the moments we spend together.
Late at night, I picture him on my side;
holding me, kissing me, loving me like I'm the only girl.

And my God, he could crush me.

To be without him could destroy me.
My porcelain heart could shatter like thin glass.
My mind could be set ablaze and simply
collapse as my body melts and my lungs turn to ash.

Yes, he could crush me.

But, I've decorated my love for him in bows and
ribbons, and handed it to him on a diamond platter,
in exchange for his beautiful heart. Cautiously, he
gave it to me, and I realized we felt the same.

My God, he could crush me.
But, I could crush him, too.
The thing is that the
thoughts have never crossed our minds.

Pale skin that's
so beautiful in comparison to the sunset.
Her eyes,
the perfect concoction of blue and green, stare away.

Deep in thought,
tears on her cheeks, a smile pasted on her face.
Although her scenery
is lovely, the thoughts she has are not.

Dark demons
swirl in her mind and pick her brain.
They travel through
her veins, and pull her apart at the seams.

On the inside,
she's going crazy; she is undeniably insane.
On the outside,
she is smiling just like you; she's unwillingly happy.

Because when I'm alone
  and have had too much time to think,
                              I over-think.
I wonder if you'll see
the bad in me, and find better within
                                    somebody else.
I wonder if you'll notice
that sometimes I miss you, and all I
                                    need is you.
And I wonder how someone
like you could possibly love someone
                                  like me.