Harmonic strums of an old guitar
Endless interpretation nights
My Darling, My Darling, looming far
Flashbacks; reminiscent timely old sights

Darling, darling, may you sing along?
Sadly, just the the same old song
the gloomy melody heard much before
the same expression you once wore

A past buried deep underground
Trained fiercely not to make a sound
But Darling, darling, those cuts are much deeper
Than my broken wings, or your shattered mirror

So here I am, trying to kneel
Pretending as if you can’t feel
Continue lurking in our past mistakes
Darling, darling, how long will it take?

So I'll keep pretending and apprehending, my emotions that “don’t exist”
While you keep lying, I’m complying, dragging my feet in this supossable “bliss”
So please, this once, just grant me my release
Darling, darling, return me my peace

When he calls me darling,
his hand is holding mine.
When he calls me darling,
my anger lasts a short amount of time.
When he calls me darling,
all my sadness slips away,

Except when I realize he won't be mine,
all of those things replay.

But when he calls me darling,
I desire for just his touch.
I desire for him to hold me,
he does not have to say much.
And when he calls me darling,
the world is suddenly alright.

But when he calls me darling,
I remember he isn't mine.

But it still means the whole world to me,
and he still means a whole lot.
because he was the first and only one to know me,
with all my weaknesses or not.
He recognized my strength,
but caressed me for my weakness,
He recognized my reality,
its fatality and its craziness.
He saw all the walls I had built up,
and had painted to show how I felt.
Except my side of the wall was real and the other side was not.
I showed the whole world what I was capable of,
What I was faking and breaking up.
He recognized me for my flaws,
and accepted me for all.
He recognized all my mistakes
and took me by the hand, and showed me this place.
This place he was never capable of living in,
but that he had shown to many.

He took me by the hand and said,
"Darlin' here I am. And here is this place,
you can live here if you want to,
but not within my embrace.
You must choose one or the other,
eventually but not now. I will stay
but only for a while,
until you sleep safely in the clouds."

I chose not long ago,
to give up and release them both.
But he took me by my hand,
and told me darling,
you must go home.
That place was meant to be
the one thing that kept you going.
I'm here only for the moment,
and to keep your memories floating.

So go back, he cried,
and be happy.
Because I cannot give that to you.
But I brought you here my darling,
Let your sorrows wash away and disappear.

When he calls me darling,
his hand is always in mine.
And when he calls me darling,
I am reminded of that time.

When the whole world had wanted him,
but only was he mine.

My dear darling
Put on a pony tail with a pink shirt and some blue jean shorts and is happy as a flower in the sun

My dear darling
Went to school everyday
Shes getting picked on
She wounders why they judge her

My dear darling
Gets called names and judged
She has no friends
She changed her clothes from pink to black

My Dear Darling
Foundout how to deal with this pain she has
She started cutting
In hopes to bleed to death

My dear darling
Looks in the mirrior and wants to change
She is starving herself to death
She thinks that by starving herself she will be beautiful

My dear darling
Listens to different type of music than the others
She has fainted now on to the hospital quickly
They saw her cuts how tragic this is

My dear darling
Has returned home from the hospital
She still gets judged and bullied by the others

My dear darling
She has cut too deep
Shes bleeding to death
Foolish girl

My dear darling
Has died she couldnt take the bullying anymore poor girl .. All she wanted was to be accepted and make friends ...

Darling is it bad that I don't feel the sun anymore?
I'm afraid I've broken myself again.
Afraid that someday I'll lay down and feel the need not to push myself to wake up again.
Darling is it bad that I don't see the stars in the sky anymore?
The ones I use to lay in the grass and look up to.
The ones I use to make the same wish on every night they somehow disappeared and I can't seem to remember that wish.
Darling is it bad that sometimes I think the walls are screaming at me when I'm alone?
I don't do all that well in the quiet green room I have when no one is home.
Maybe that's why I found peace in a razor to block out the quiet
Darling is it okay to stop and not think for awhile?
Just lay in one spot and forget about it all?
Darling can I stop and think about you for a while?
I think your the only thing I like thinking about.
Being okay for a little feels good.
Feels like those walls can move and breathe around me.
Darling I'm afraid I'm not good enough anymore.
I can't fix myself like I have been trying too.
It's hard putting the pieces back together when I can't find them.
I would search my soul and my heart for these pieces that I lost but I get so tired, I gave up.
Darling is it wrong that I want to be prefect?
Prefect for you and myself so being alive doesn't have to be a chore anymore?
Darling. Don't leave.
I've already gaven up on myself that I can't have one more person write me off.
Darling would you be mad at me if I leave?
I would never leave you but if one day I disappear you can look up in the stars, that's were I'd be.
I've always found peace in stars.
Maybe I'll be one one day.
Maybe one day you will be looking up at one and it will be me.
Darling maybe you will remember the wish I always wished while looking up at me.

II

Do not be afraid, my darling
I see you.
I see your tattered spirit
and stripped flesh
wandering in darkness.
Alas!
we are kindred,
you and I,
for I too have been
murdered.
I have died a hundred times
and I have lived a
hundred and one
We, who are dead
but still breathing,
are kindred.
I have been poisoned by
the nectar of lust. And
this nectar was
sweet and it was
intoxicating and it was
addictive and it was
******* lust.
It was fed to me by
a man posing as
a god and he kept
my goblet full and
I was paralyzed.
He was not a god
nor a man.
He was a snake,
a false prophet.
The nectar was
venomous and
my blood,
my body, and
mind were
laced with
paralytic venom
I could not move
and died waiting.
Alas!
We are kindred
you and I.
We who have died
waiting and paralyzed.
We who have been
murdered by false
prophets and snakes.
We are kindred with
Eve and the apples of
Eden, we who are
poisoned but  
still alive.
In this paralytic state
a surgeon came
and he said unto me
“I will let you be free”
and he cut into me.
He entered my chest
so delicately and
so eloquently he
whispered to me
“ Darling, if I cannot
keep you I can’t let
you be free.”
He wanted a
keepsake, a piece
of my heart.
Something which I
would never just
willingly part.
He took a small
piece though I
screamed to
his claim. This
was not my love,
just blood,
muscle, and veins.
Alas!
We are kindred
you and I.
We who walk around
with pieces that will
never be found.
We who have filled
the empty cavity with
other objects to
replace what can
never mended.
Do not fear, my darling
we are still pumping
blood and we
are still alive!
An artistic healer
found me wandering.
He said unto me,
“ My love, I see your
rough edges and you
are flawless to me
with all your perfect
imperfections.”
I was his canvas
that could be remade
to what he wanted
me to portray.
He molded me,
bent me,
folded me,
painted me.
He chiseled away
at places that
were already weak
places that were
untouched by people
like He. I was his
muse which he
misused, abused,
and attempted to
create and sculpt
art, which I was,
to his vision
of what I should be.
He coated me,
plastered me,
froze me in time but
paper machete is fragile
and I never asked to
be molded or painted.
Slowly I broke free
from thee. Death by
art was not meant
for me
Alas!
My darling,
do not be afraid.
We are kindred
you and I.
I see you in all
your molded glory
upon the altar
which he built
to display a creation
which he did not create.
I am the one
who chiseled
at the cement
and the plaster
and the paper
and the alter
so that we can
escape a different
type of cage.
I see you broken
but uncaged.
A builder of dreams
approached me and
he said unto me
“ You are a rarity
in a world full of
mediocrity. A rare
bird like you should
not be caged.”
He built me a castle
made of sand and
deafened me with
promises which
were lies. The tide
rolled in and castles
made of sand were
taken back to sea
and i was deaf
and I could not
hear the rumbling ,
the crumbling,
the mumbling as it
was all swept away.
I was asphyxiated by
the sand and sea
of empty promises
and lies
and expectations
that I found myself
chocking on.
Do not be afraid my darling.
Alas!
We are kindred
you and I.
We have
swallowed
and choked
and  inhaled
the dirt which
posed as sand.
We who have been
drowned in lies.
We who have
been buried and
have touched the
ocean floor at great
depths have come back
to the surface.
Alas!
We are still swimming.
We are the ones who
saw the shore and
returned to land
with our feet firmly
planted on sinking sand
and unsteady ground.
Hush my darling, and do
keep our secret safe.
Hush and never let them
know that we, who are
dead but living, are the
ones who created the shore.
We have a multitude of
little deaths. Deaths which
showed us life, joy, and
pain.
Alas!
My darling,
we are kindred
you and I.
We are the masochists.
We invite the murders in.
We who see the axe in his
hand as he knocks and
yet we still allow the
murderous aftermath
to begin with no regard
for the clean up.
My darling, we take with
us a piece of our killers
as they have taken a
keepsake from us.
Alas!
My darling
we have taken
we have learned
we have observed
we have seen their
surgical precision as
they have taken us
apart. We have
mended and
stitched and
sewn and
glued and
filled and
repaired
ourselves.
Oh my darling
do not fear for
we who are
still alive
still fighting
still breathing
still living
still pumping blood,
we have taken
their murderous
intent. We who
were victimized
by batting eyes
and lies that left
bitterness as an
aftertaste have
have learned to
lace honey with
arsenic. We are
kindred, you and I.
We are different
now. The stichting
and filling
and sewing
and gluing
has changed
us.
We are not afraid,
my darlings.
We see you.
You who have
caged and
trampled and
opened and
taken and
broken and
killed are no
longer feared.
Be afraid
my darlings.
Alas!
We see you.

III

I am a serial killer.
I have ravaged
empty vessels
which once upon
a time were
filled with ideas
of what could be.
I am innocent!
I slay the murderers
who murdered me.
Those who murdered
we.
I and we have
perfected the craft
which you,
and you,
and you,
and you
have used as
weapons of
mass distraction,
mass destruction.
I am the one
who distracts
and destroys.  
I have ingested
sufficient venom
to become
arsenic laced
honey.
I have let a
man drink
from me ‘til
he could drink
no more. He
drank himself
to insanity.
Oh dear!
I fear I did
not warn him
of the venom
that’s within.
What once was
just plain honey
is now
poisonous
to him.
I am a serial killer.
The killer of
cervical slayers.
But again
I am innocent!
I once sheltered
a wretch and
he sought
sanctuary
inside of me.
He never looked
at my eyes.
Only prayed at
the church that
he made betwixt
my thighs.
Oh dear!
I fear
I did not mention
that this was not
his church. It was
my sanctuary which
was now covered
in his dirt.
Death by exertion
was his end.
I let him die *******
but I did not let
him win
A tragic death
for a stallion
like he. Because
I am small he
underestimated me.
Like Helen of Troy
I brought
destruction
upon thee.
I am a serial killer.
The killer of
psychological
terrorizers and
verbal mesmerizers.
I have linguistically
lobotomized men
who thought they
could philosophize
the origin of I.
I have sown the
seeds of doubt
within the halls of
confidence which
have lain within his
mind.
I have broken
fortress walls
that were built to
withstand the  
wrath that fell
upon *****
and Gomorrah.
We have cut out
the tongues of
our verbal
betrayers and
left them befuddled
in Babylon.  
Oh dear!
I fear I forgot
to mention that
Freud is my Father
and Jung is my
uncle.
Your mommy issues
do nothing for me.
I am not her!
I am a child of
psychology.
Rationally you are
weaker than me
mentally.
I am a serial killer.
The killer of
egotistical thrillers.
I have paralyzed
and anesthetized
men who have been
thrice the size of me.
My scalpel is sharp
and my steady hand
cuts as deep as my
verbal violations.
This is my body.
This is not your nation.
My dissection was but
a brief vacation to
your annihilation.
Your internal organs
were similar to an
egotistical colonoscopy.
You thought your
insides were different
from me.
You required proof
that we were the
same.
I said
“Let me cut first”
and you did not
complain.
Oh dear!
I fear I failed
to mention I’m
quite skilled and
I have killed before,
far better men and
even their ******.
I am a serial killer!
A killer of killers!
You are a cheap
thrill as I reap
and I sow.
I plant the seeds
that I know will
not grow.
You will stay frozen
and will get old.
I need not a keepsake.
I own your soul.

IV

We are naked.
Our flesh is worn
and our spirit torn.
The garments which
once kept us warm
are now just eaten
and tattered.
We have silently
walked
and waited
and paced ourselves
and learned hatred.
WE have come
back home where
board games and
Barbies wait.
I have broken
all my favorite toys
just like you
and you
and you
and the horse
you rode in on
have taken all
my simple joys.
You have all
taken away
a piece of pink
and replaced
with a piece of
grey. A piece
which will never
be the same.
Oh Darling!
Do not fear for me
do not fear for we.
We have become the
porcelain women
which watch
and wait.
Our pink colored
kingdom shall
never be invaded
because here we
are waiting.
Not even shoots
and ladders or even
the Madd Hatter
can lead you to
green pastures.
Oh my!
You failed to notice
the malicious
twinkle in
my eyes.
I fear this was
your fault
for you created
a steeple
betwixt my
thighs.
Silly rabbit,
we were never
yours.
I was always
mine.
This is
not revenge.
This is a warning
before the rhyme.

Much love Darling,
But not no love for me Darling

Ignorance can sometimes take over the population of our young people
Like one time a girl asked me
"How the hell does a girl get ***** when she's there too?
How could she let that happen to herself?"

And I responded
Darling
it's not always so easy
Some people like to think that if they were put in a position of ****
That they would be able to push the guy off of them
Punch him in the crotch
But what if the man is stronger than you?
Would you expect him to listen when you repeat

"No.. Stop"
"No.. STOP"
"NO STOP"
Over and over again

But he will not listen
He will instead
****** until there is nothing left of you to ****** at
He will grab your arm
Or pull your hair
Until you no longer care
Because this is the norm' for you now

What happens when your ****** is someone you know?
Someone you love?

When you were younger an told tales of ****
You imagined being grabbed by someone you don't know
A complete stranger
You imagined yourself screaming and hollering at the scene of the crime
But people won't always hear your protests

Much love, Darling
But no no love for me Darling

No love just *** on his end
But you don't completely realize that's all it was
until it IS the end

Oh, you want to be friends still?
Why would someone ever want to be friends with a thief of virginity
You took something all the screams in the world could never get back

You bottle it up for weeks
Months
Before you let someone know you tell your mother
She says
"Darling,
Being a ****** is overrated"

She still loves you
Doesn't judge you
Dear God, Dear God
How did you bless this Earth with such an angel?
She stands on holy ground
While your ****** is the constant flame that surrounds purgatory
Literal Hell on Earth

Darling don't blame it on yourself
Because no angel
No angel
Could ever be capable of committing a crime so hellish
Your are an angel,
Darling

Much love darling,
But not no love for me
Darling

Your bottom lip is quivering,
As if the moment is weighing down upon it.
Hold it in, darling.

Your hands are intertwined with your tattered sleeves,
As if the more you fidget, the less you will feel.
Hold it in, darling.

Your eyes are taking on that glassy look,
The one always followed with silent tears.
Hold it in, darling.

Your voice is beginning to waver,
As your words run into each other, fumbling out of your mouth.
Hold it in, darling.

Your gaze is fixed upon an insignificant crack on the wall,
As if staring at it long enough will give everything less meaning.
Hold it in, darling.

She's telling you that there are people who care for you, that you aren't alone,
As if they could ever truly understand.
Hold it in, darling.

She's asking you how you feel, she want's you to talk about it,
As if saying how you feel would make it any better, it won't.
Hold it in, darling.

Somewhere between the onesided conversation, some sort of closure was reached,
As if you even opened up in the first place.
Hold it in, darling.

Now you're all alone in the cold, small office, getting ready to leave.
As if you had been present in the first place.
Hold it in, darling.

Don't ever let them see you cry,
Save your tears for the middle of the night,
And until then,
Hold it in, darling.

Darling
Key of E



Darling, darling, darling
Don't you think the sun will rise today?
Darling, darling, darling
Don't you think it'll rise today
Oh, don't you see it shining
Don't it make your mind feel okay?

Travelling in the darkness
Yeh, travelling in the rain
Travelling in the darkness
Yes, I'm travelling in the rain
I can't see where I'm going
But I've got to leave again

Walk me to the corner
Tell the man about your soul
Yeh, walk me to the corner
We'll tell the man about your soul
If he don't give us money
We're bound to leave this hole

Darling, darling, darling
Don't you think the sun will rise today?

Darling, I'm afraid I've broken the coffee maker again.
Darling, I'm afraid that all the orange bottles are empty again.
Darling, I'm afraid that sometimes walls remind me
of either the ones you threw me against or the ones I put up around my heart
so that no one can love me ever again.

Darling, I'm afraid that I don't see stars in the sky anymore,
just a lot of eyes staring down at me,
scrutinizing me like interstellar councilmen,
knowing about every disgusting thing that I have done
when I thought it was just me and you and the peeling wallpaper.

Darling, I'm afraid that I am woven around your ribcage
like the beads of a rosary
are wrapped around the fingers of a sinner who has sold their soul
to the devil for forgiveness from God
one too many times.

Darling, I'm afraid I have to pause to talk about your fingers.
I am not wrapped around just one, but all of them.
I was hoping to bind you like a book so I could read you a little better,
but I'm afraid I've just entangled myself in a giant mess
and I'm afraid that you're a little too amused by my demise.

Darling, I'm afraid that guns shoot and so do stars,
I'm afraid that wishbones break and so do bones,
and I'm afraid that feathers float and so do bodies.
Darling, I'm afraid that I'm sorry that I cannot fix you,
because I don't think I can even fix myself.

Darling, I'm afraid I'm just
afraid.

- b.b.

It was many and many a year ago,
  In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
  By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
  Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
  In this kingdom by the sea:
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
  I and my ANNABEL LEE;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
  Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
  In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
  My beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
  And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
  In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
  Went envying her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
  In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
  Chilling and killing my ANNABEL LEE.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
  Of those who were older than we—
  Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in heaven above,
  Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
  In her sepulchre there by the sea—
  In her tomb by the side of the sea.