Some people
I know
need a
"mute" button
installed immediately

The worst part is
I don't need to make amends
because I didn't
do anything wrong.
Not in my whole life.

I've done nothing
to earn years beyond my age.
You can only believe my words
mean something,
you can only feel something,
you can't make it exist.

What heinous act could I have played
that the beast is still hunting?
wanting to devour it's pound of flesh

What sins so grave have I committed
that this beast still seeks me out?
to make me repent.

Who gives it the power to choose my demise?
it takes it's own will as testament
to it's righteousness.

And I have given a pound and a half of flesh
I have repented of my sins
I have paid my tithe
I have asked for forgiveness
I have changed my ways
I have paid
I have paid..

And yet it still stalks me while I sleep
and in my waking hours
it gathers strength.

It's pursuit
relentless
never tiring
never slowing.

I will never be free

I run but I will never escape it's might
the rules absent
the game devised for amusement

A pound of flesh for a morsel
an eye for a glance
a tooth for a word
the scales tipped
unbalanced

The law says to the sanctuary I must run
yet it is too far
cornered and scared
panting for breath

Beast  
carnivore  
eater of souls

PREDATOR

In my fear I cannot run another step
muddied and worn
spent
resigned
fate

It's eyes black are devoid of all humanity
it takes a step and I can do but one thing..

**Fight.

I wrote about how the birds still sang
The morning you left me
And the trees were still green
I wrote about how the world doesn't stop
Even when mine is crumbling

l(y)i(e)ng,
providing,
and comp-
romising (together).

It is a sweet scent of a drive with no windows.
It is a hint of the things you wish you could accurately reminisce without putting clouds over the whole scene, even where there was shade and everyone was comfortable.
It puts every thunderstorm into a purse and throws it across the room and further away from hearts because what else lies in that purse is nothing in comparison to the soul that bears it.

When you lose it,
it is a nosebleed
that cannot ever stop
pouring.