My heart once drummed a steady tune
Thump...
                 thump...
                                 thump...
Like a contented wanderer it continued on,
s l o w
steady
repeating, repeating, repeating.

But like the wanderer, it sensed you
a disturbance in the equilibrium.
The drum solo arrived, a fast-paced melody

         p
     a     i
  e          n
l                g
                        racin­g
                                      beating
                 ­                                     singing.
                   ­                                                   And then...
                                                         ­                                   stopping.
Only to continue again,
just as quick, throbbing just the same.

But.

This time...

The wanderer sensed danger.

This time...

The adrenaline filled my veins
as you filled my gaze
and it was too late.

Define the emotion OK interprets.
And when exactly people understood the comings and goings of feelings in general.
How can one understand others.
When an emotional war is being fought on two fronts.
Each bleeding ammo and supplies.
Wasting away.
Just slow enough to have the coroner turn it away.
Nearly dead isn't applicable.
And somehow managed to feel guilty for wasting your death warrant signatures time.
As if the words would change the angle on how others viewed your life.
Only pretending others care enough to pay any mind.
Stiffles the rest of any opposition.
To make sure the dark flames imbued regret correctly..
A magician of sorts.
Only falling on swords for too long leaves little room eventually.
A reverse porcupine that crys blood when forced into moving.
But makes not a sound.
Even this can feel like nothing.
It only takes a little imagination and a dash of humanity.
And when playing god loses its hype.
Will the mob desperse.
Retreat into that in which the torches were burning just moments ago.
Only they don't extinguish.
Just remain awhile for the next hand to lift the taunting relic.
So that repetition can further solidify the obvious.
Shoudnt be long now.
As the oddly familar jester sits to watch.
Death is always a spectacle.
Whispered so softly it was hard to decide if it happened at all.
But it matters little.
For silence is all that follows.
Indifference is a disease.
Stricken with such paralyzing apathy.
That A.D.D. becomes a standard.
Take two before human interaction.
Call in the morning if the guilt remains.
Only remembering to forget can get so.... Confusing.

I am not a tiger, a vampire, or a ghost.

I cannot attack them straight on with my ferocious strength. I cannot watch them bleed from my claws.

I cannot lure them with beauty and perfection, lulling them in with a smile, snapping necks with bare hands.

I cannot sneak up on the shadows gliding soundlessly until I strike. A whisper, a warning, wherever I go.

But I can sew together my seams and glue the cracks together. I can fold down the edges and become a gentle circle. I can smile just the right amount to be a gentle, innocent flower, a master of deception.

I am a Venus flytrap.

An unknowing flower, not as pretty as the rest,
but soft and gentle, a perfect place to rest

Until I close my gapping mouth around you trapping you inside,
Eating you piece by piece until the pain destroys you from inside.