my throat is stabbed with my own dagger
my chest rise and fall slower
my eyes are covered with grey clouds
my brain though numb begins to shout
blood flows with spite
through blood I will continue to fight

This pen is no tool,
Nor is it a weapon,
It's a wellspring of magic,
Purist of it's kind,
All these stories in my head,
Pouring out like tears,
Dripping into to black blood I give.

Class of 2024
Was ninety five pupils
Back in 2019.
Whittled down to less than 90 by now

Stabbed myself with a compass
in maths paper 3
Just to see if I could still bleed
Or if the high stress made me a machine

"Just two exams, then I'm done"
I like to say.
But when it's all over
Will I keep it together?

words had maddened me....
the cobwebs hanging from the drafts of the only room where I felt at home but also as if I was completely losing my mind.
his invisible hands wrapping around my throat trying to choke me.
my hands were ****** with all the truths I could not tell him,
refusing to let escape my lips and make a noise.... but slowly they were sneaking through my hands, the words running down my lips to my finger tips.
the candle lit beside me was the only light left,
not being able to reach far enough to my soul to reignite it.
paper thrown everywhere, as my only listener....
but his imprints were on everything....
including me.

your absence, like a wound, will rot and fester until the skin around it is raw and hot
but the love i still have puts a bandaid on, and insists it’s just a scratch
the love i still have, like a doctor, gives me a shot while making sure i look away so I don’t see the needle entering my skin
the love i still have, like a shot, runs through my veins, making sure not an inch of me stays painful
the love i still have, like a vein, is in every part of me, carrying the blood to my heart and my brain
the love i still have, like my blood, keeps my body and mind alive, making sure i can love, hate, laugh, and cry
the love I still have, like my body, carries me to everywhere i go
the love I still have nurses my wound until it only festers when it is stabbed by an absent memory, and will nurse it all over again

Edward Carnegie was once a normal man,
Steel monopolist extraordinaire.
Till a fateful dip in rail stock,
Lead to his discovery of time travel.
Confused, he landed just a few years from the modern day,
Where he was arrested by the Time Police.
"Edward, we'll set you free,
If you defeat public time enemy,
The Alien."
So off went Carnegie to the modern day,
To face off against fellow PTE.
But what was revealed,
Shocked even the Time Police.
His business partner, Henry Frick,
Was the real villain all along.
"Buckle up, we're going back in time!"
Back to the time of steel money,
Frick had almost bested Carnegie.
"The company is mine Edward, stand down!"
Though undenounced to Henry,
His advisory had pumped his veins full,
Of the Blood Of Steel.

You can't pour wine from an empty
Bottle, the pop-up ad tells me.
I laugh. I laugh as the cracks
At its bottom cut into
My palm; I pour you
Another glass. It's all red anyway.
Who cares what that AI has to say.