At night she buries herself six feet below the ground
and she paints her face with a smile every morning.
Her mascara is waterproof and her shaking hands
buried deep inside the pockets of a beautiful coat
while she tells exciting tales of sorbet happiness.

She is a conundrum, weaves lies from silver thread
and hides behind red lipstick smiles over coffee cups.
She whispers false promises to you and herself
between Egyptian cotton sheets, skin illuminated
by the glow of the sun rising behind a high-rise.

This girl is careless but made of glass, and her eyes
catch every word you say, and carry it along, but
her words are not those you preserve in your heart.
She bursts into flames in the middle of an ocean;
she will never be anyone’s to take, or understand.

If we could chat to a film hero,
Would we learn more than zero?
Let's say we talk to Robin Hood,
Was he really all that good?
Romping around in hosiery in the woods,
Was Robin Hood, in bed, really so good?
What about Maid Marian in that snood?
Did she have more than a fling?
With his archer's sling?
Stuff of legends, film stars,
History of those days afar.......

I want to lunge at it,
I want to tear it to shreds.
It drowns me with my own grief.
This false grief,
This false grief that fills my body with weight, that wasn’t there minute before.
I hate it.
I want to rip at the pages and re-wright them.
I want to change the damning end that sends the destructive words to my eyes.
I want to carve out his name,
I want to carve out the man’s name that shot the fatal wounds.
Yet
Yet, I see the bigger picture.
I see the ending gives justice to all that has happened.
I have given her the shock value that she has wished for,
And I love it.
-ALC

The knowledge of her death kills a piece of me.
I sit, light blaring at the page, hoping for her to wake up.
I sit, hoping this is all just some terrible hallucination she is having.
My stomach twists as I see his face in my head.
Him, the one that learned how to love her, then lost her.
Sadness, guilt and pity swirl through my body.
I can only imagine the deep pain and loss he is feeling.
All of it is to savior for me to bear
I laugh whipping away my tears
This is silly.
I have watched them from a far this entire time.
Their faces are made up,
Constructed, sculpted, from the words that burn into my eyes.
Yet I feel this pain,
This pain I feel in my being must be the same pain that he feels now,
Staring at her life less body
Limp,
Gone.
I want to lunge at the paper
I want to scream, cry, and laugh.
This is twisted
I hate it for sending me to this emotional place,
But I can’t help but continue,
Loving the action and thrills it sends along the ride.
Her death kills a piece of me.
-ALC

The secrets of his soul
Hidden within the fabrics of the night
Away from the shame of the sun

He takes subtle steps,
Searching chambers of a *****,
From rays of a hollow moon

A wise man he imagines
Feeding his Frankenstein,
To quench his boiling lust

Oh! An Intelligent fool,
A beautiful noose he winds
Around his frail neck

Tethering his reputation,
On a decaying post,
To become but a slave,
When his past comes to light

There it was
In my head
Screaming at me
Wishing I was dead
Between the pages
I learned to live again
Be somewhere other
Than the wasteland
In my head

I learned to be a princess
A warrior
A brilliant fool
Anything but what was actually true
Grew chameleon skin
To flicker better
Between character to character
Just like the weather
All to forget the truth of what
Lingered within my head

It was fun playing perfect
Being everyone's art
But things started to get hazy
When cracks began to part
My body became numb
I let fingers crawl all over
Payment to get anyone
To glue me back together
But I couldn't really run
Nothing could blot out its stead
Unbeknownst to me
I never had been free
From the temptation to be dead
Preying on my head

So I buried in words harder
Trusting the denial
Pretending to be anything else
Must be a new character
Couldn't really just be me
The fingers grabbed harder
And I hungrily let them still
If my flesh became shredded
What would be left to ****?
Yet determination was stronger
Than my bloodlust to ****** me
It only left me screaming
Left me lonely
Left me in dread
From the death taking residence
Inside my pretty head

Our character knew
She could not live such asunder
The death would win
If she did not change her color
Through wretched teeth
And fierce blows of power
The foolish, brilliant princess warrior
Refused to lose her mental tower
Through years of war
And struggle
And pain
She won the rights to herself again
And with her mighty sword led
Away the demons
Inside her head

And now the tale halts
Where the chameleon begins to change
A lovely new form
One haphazard and so strange
Its a visage mixed of all
The characters played before
Yet now the skin's unmoving
And the parts become a whole
The fingers are only one
And soft and loving to touch
And pills and words are now used
For good instead of a crutch
The death has hissed its final roar
The reader final quits
They keep on reading stories
But they do not negatively benefit
Its more at peace
But still a clustered composure
Within the head
Of a happy dreamer much bipolar