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You are a really good fisherman,



And I am just but a foolish fish,




                                                       ­                      Preposterously bitten your hook,
                                                    With your bait of feigned love attached to it,
  



                                   Piercing it all the way to my heart,


                  Leaving me wounded with all of those prevaricates I've fell for,


But I don't know why,

                            I still love the feeling,

                                         That you've been jumping in gladness,

                                             That you've finally caught me,



Even though I was hardly breathing,

               'Cause you've taken  me away from the place,

                                  That makes me breathe and gives me joy.


                                 It somehow gives me relief,

                 Seeing the auspicious sun,

Brightly gleaming into my beautiful scales,

Not knowing it was just a start of a baleful Gehenna!




                    I should've known all along that it's just an entice!




                              But I am still blessed,


           'Cause I have manage to escape,

                                While damaging and harming myself in the process,


From the jailhouse that you've locked me in.




                                                      ­From then on,


              You've learned a lesson,


  

And use NET instead.



                       © Earl Jane
                         ♥ E.J.C.S.

You say you hate the taste of cigarettes in your mouth but yet here you are, lighting another roll.
You tell yourself that you hate the alcohol burning your throat yet you're always getting drunk.
You swear you don't do drugs but you're currently lost in Nirvana under a strangers bathroom sink. You say parties aren't your thing but that doesn't stop you going out every weekend.
You promise yourself that she's the last one as you sneak out of her bedroom window before moving on to the next girl you find.
Stepping school is bad you think as you sneak out of the gates with your best friend yet again.
You vow to change yet this life is
******* thrilling and old habits die hard.
- Vulgara

You see the blood dripping
from her hands.
You watch in silence
as she traces her nails along
the sides of his neck.

She looks at you and you see
a smile on her face.
He is crying now, begging her to stop.

His hands are bloodied and tied,
purple bruises on his wrists.
His face, forever disfigured
by the jagged little knife
she clutches so softly.

She is a killer and you know it.
She is a killer who likes to play
with her food.

She looks at you with a smile on her face.
She looks at you and you're staring
at your own reflection.
-Nathaniel MarkHim (-V)

Dear Ex-Lovers,

i. You were poison to me and I loved to get burnt. How could you leave me lying breathless on the floor wanting more? You used me like an escape and I welcomed it. You filled my head with empty promises; I was just a puppet on your string. Oh darling I should have known I was dancing  with the devil when I was captured in your eyes.

ii. You were my midnight calls and 4am drunk promises. We spent our summer under the moon with poetry written on the back of your palm. I was your everything and for a time, you were mine. But summer is over and I am gone and you are left with the realization I only used you as a muse.

Iii. It started off with shy hugs between you and I. We were misplaced kisses and awkward silence on a Saturday afternoon. You were all push and no pull, I was too. We never tried hard but that's okay; we were only a distraction from the battles we had within.

iv. I always wondered how I could love someone as cold as you. I was your blanket and you were always trying to keep warm. Maybe you needed a reason to keep trying in this turbulent world and maybe I just loved to play with broken things, but three months have passed and I still sit by your grave and wonder if all I ever did was suffocate the little candle you had burning within.
-V

Mother warned me not to fall for girls who turn their
bodies into a trick of light whenever you are with them.
“Careful with the pretty ones,” she would say. Smiles that can
launch a thousand ships and start civil wars were never any good.
“Be a lover, not a muse,” she would say. Careful of the girls
who love what you bring but never love who you are.
“The devil was an angel once,” she would say. He was pretty eyes
with an angelic voice and temptation in it's purest form.
Oh how mother knows best; how I never learned.
-V