I have always been drawn to destruction;
air too thin to breathe-
I carry a pain eyes can't receive.

life and evil are only a letter apart,
and I've come to believe
this was no mistake;

the devil wears sweatpants and a rosary.

he weaves his fingers
through yours tightly
every time he holds you down-

and he shines-
stolen halos line red wrists,
they bang against the drywall-
its four in the morning
and he's come into the room again-
he forever invites himself in

maybe this time God will hear the ringing,
clinging together,
the halos,
the angels
will flee to ****** back
their innocence.
brilliance.

and the motion will cease.
the clouds, close.

claiming "possession"
is out of the question
for he did not seize my soul-
I extracted it, split my skull
all for a taste of the afterlife.

he loves mirrors and other pathways
of reflection;
the evil only seem to love themselves.

I am used to blinding confusion
and bittersweet illusions,
I crave the burn that follows pain.

he likes to leave a mark
beyond scarring the skin,
but I promise,
the worst is within-

life and death are only a day apart
and I've come to believe
I am stuck in between,
and the devil continues,
blissful and free.

Each time I opened my mouth, it felt like I was speaking in vowels. A-E-I think you are an angel.

Your skin is my sky
That contains all the stars
Your arms are a magnet
That don't let me go far

Your hair are the dark
That are my night
Your embrace is my sigh
That holds me so tight

Your lips are my water
That is so pure
Your kiss is my medicine
That have my wounds cure

Your mouth have my words
That become my rhyme
Your body is my space
That makes me forget time

Your fingers are my flowers
That are laid in your hand's park
Your neck is my canvas
That contains my bite's mark

Your eyes are my moons
That shine so bright
Your smile is my sun
That gives everything light

As women,
we can learn to love anyone --
taking them in as our children,
but to fall into love is another matter
that involves not a mother's choice,
but a man's wisdom:
to love himself,
to care for his woman,
and to plan for his future,
rather than to be the child of his woman
who must sweat each day away
with the worries of his worship.
All a woman yearns for is his affection,
which a man is most hesitant to give
at times when he must show strength
in place of grace,
and anger in place of empathy.
Even as these things roll off his shoulder,
a woman may continue to love tenderly,
for that is what a woman is;
born into life to comfort those in need --
whether child or man, monster or husband,
she cannot resist
to allow one evil spirit to leave this world swiftly,
untouched by the hands of an angel.

Part 1
It ails me here and torments me,
I am a prisoner of my own sin,
I have become the one I want nothing of,
And I must suffer my consequences without release,
I beg for mercy as I crumble numerous times,
But I know that nothing would come for something as worthless as me,
I can't feel anything but pain any longer,
I suffer from lack of communication,
I suffer from lack of purpose,
My soul has torn countless times,
There is no longer any hope,
I must find a way out

Part 2
I've walked miles through my own mind,
There is nothing here to salvage,
Everything of me is useless,
But there seems to be a voice so faint,
It's not in me but around me,
I hear it calling out for help,
With my life so low I feel attractions to this cry,
This wounded scream compels my being,
My soul is dragging me to the victim,
It is an angel with seared wings,
It is out of reach from me but it can see me,
She is lovely farther than any description I can give,
I cannot feel anything but pain any longer,
I ail for this angel and her safety,
I cannot reach her but she can hear me,
I have no experience with love but I feel it,
The scars on my soul seem scarce,
I have been given a blessing in hell,
She is my salvation and I shall risk my soul to be hers

He was an alchemist,
Turning my lead tears to gold,
Because to him I was beautiful
To him I was worth more.

He was a metalsmith,
Fixing my broken copper wings
With tarnished feathers
Because to him, I could still fly.

He was a clockmaker
Resetting my fragmented cogs and beating pendulum
Spending hours and hours
Because to him I was fixable.  

But I am a just broken clockwork angel
With lead tears, broken wings, and severed insides
Rusted away by time and life
And no amount of mending can save me

he walks among the clouds
soft pinks and off whites surround
his glowing form
he is an angel sent from above
his eyes give hope
and his arms, a safe haven.
He is the sun, the moon and the stars.
A being from another world.
a beautiful savior of many,
he gives second chances
and new found life for many.
An angel is he
and my love he has.

I found myself wandering along the path
in the woods the other day--
I was alone (or so I thought)
when I began to pray
and as I stood next to a tall and aging tree
I thought I heard an angel
calling out to me--
I didn't realize tears were falling down my face
all I wanted was a caring embrace--
someone to tell me that all will be okay
and then this angel came to me to say,
"do not shed tears, my dear one--
the day will come when you will know
just where it is
you're supposed to go.
Until then, relax and allow
your heart to smile
and be ready for whatever comes your way
and allow your soul to rest awhile