he is dangerous now
because he was wounded so deeply
that it broke his teeth
but he has to snap & bite anyway
never a moment's peace for him

his tragedy has made him volatile
like a chemical fire
nothing can soothe him now
& nothing can douse the flames
so he will burn himself to the ground


& with his last breath he will laugh

you can feel his teeth scrape on your bones
your flesh tears & your sinews  s t r e t c h  and snap apart
& your blood runs down his face in rivers ;
it drips on the cement to be washed away by the rain
& soon there is no trace of you left behind

The mirror dent, my reflection cracked in several
ways, wallowing in wonder whether mortality is my faith.

My eyes
marry clocks
and drift away
with time, to lands of  broken  hour glasses.

Where eternity invites the reaper to shape short destinies.

Fears smear
amongst peers,
many phobias
being but one
clear path
death is near.
Life is dear

He loved Christmas
The cold, the sounds
How the smell of food passed
And trees weigh a thousand pounds

He smiled at the little children and the Santas
And waved at the moms
He paid his dues to the Church
And donated home made balms

He was a simple man
He loved to paint
He went home and smiled
His little home was very quaint

He went to the basement
Got out his brush and started to go
The body next to him was still
He loved the sight of blood on the snow

All of a sudden came infront of me.
Fearless, bold and daring was she.
Opened all her clothes one by one.
I stood still, momentarily stunned.

Started dancing with horrific pose.
My body sweated, my blood froze.
Razed anyone who stood in her way.
Static, outstretched ****** Lies lay.

Myth got wounded, profusely bled.
Fiction hastened with fractured head.
Falsehood hid behind proud Vanity.
Vanity veiled himself with Humility.

Without delay deceitful Deceit fled.
Headstrong Ignorance lay dead.
Witnessed her many ugly stance.
Today I saw Truth's naked dance.

my minds a magician
playing tricks on my feels
saying one thing but not knowing the outcome it'll leave on me
making me think that the good is the bad
that the bad is good
that the things that make me hurt will be the reason i become happy
that friends are my enemies
and family members are only people who have to put up with you
trust is only someone wanting to get information about you so they can use it against you in the future
love is a poison slipped into your life slowly but kills you in the end
that good things are the reason there are bad things
and if i am never happy i can never be sad
my mind plays a torture game similar to the plot of saw
making me choose fast painless death or a long suffer to stay alive

You've got a shield to hide behind,
For now.
You've got his eyes locked on you,
For now.
The day will come.
His eyes will widen in realization of your selfish carcas of a personality,
Your shield will dissolve away with your fears beginning to consume your body inch by inch.
And when that day comes you will wish you never stepped a foot on this planet, your worst nightmares will become your dreams.
Succubus will become nothing to what the glass shattered before you will reveal.
No number of ghosts or demons will compare to what your eyes will feast upon the day this world reaches through your chest and clenches the rock of a heart you posses tearing it out of your frail body.
You will sit in a chair strapped as can be and watch as your pebble of a heart is crushed with the hammer of your own self pitty.
Beg for nightmares for they are the least frightening for what will stand your way.
And as your blood runs from the slit in your throat to the paved floors, a smile bigger than sunlight will stare right at you.
Thirsty for blood and no blood tastes more rewarding than the one from the knife which penetrated right through your worthless body of a harlet.
The night the psychopath within will be unleashed to feast on the taste of your selfish, ice cold blood and flesh.

-Kathia Mariana Landeros

That isn't time on your hands
It's my blood all over your finger tips

If our lives weren't measured in numbers could we even say we had lived?

But the seasons would still change
Words would still seep into my veins

Like a river into the sea
Feeding me

Growing with hunger
Devouring

And I wonder if all the things
I could compare you to

Like the sun when it shines through the rain
Or a flower adorning a grave

Some how might prove
The love I would've gave to you

Now that we're nothing
I guess that means you could do anything

Not me

My time, so precious,
is slipping through my fingers
as permanently as the red on your palms will not wash off