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Alexander Isaiah Nov 2014
I scurry to the bathroom, shutting the door of the uncleaned world behind me and I just stare in the mirror.
I see myself, but not only myself, but what I have become.
I see blood and tears shattering down to the purist of sinks.
I have become Sweeney Todd, a man forsaking his lost world.
A man who doesn't even see himself anymore.
It just comes to show how much this cruel world can change someone, making them think that there’s No Place Like London. Their own creation of their own world.
Here with a mask, portraying what I have become; this man.
A man who kills for passion and with love and with no scarce for bleeding over the white dove.
A man who is mistaken by a fellow Judge, a bias judge who has ruled his final destiny, my final destiny.
I see myself becoming more lost, slowly slitting my throat by this man with white hair; dead bodies filling up the floor. I’m losing control.
Just like The Worst Pies in London, I’m disgusting, I am revolting; like an unsold bottle of elixir.
I have been tossed and used and if I dare take one step out of place I will be beaten.
People expect so much from me and I've tried my best to be worthy in their presence just like
my childhood, nothing but a blurred line, controlled by an egotistic, vile Italian wanna-be.
I've grown into a killer.
Not only on myself, but those who even dare to care for me.
I stare in the mirror with a forbidden soul I call my wasteland, my graveyard, my sewer; this man, this man has shown me the ways of disgrace and having an unloved life.
I scream in horror as this blade takes control of my new life.
Am I evolving into something I have wanted? Or am I following the footsteps just like the customers did when they lined for their funeral?
I glance at the puddle of blood I have created and wonder if this is the life for me.
I take a taste of what is yet to come of this new life and all I can do wait.
Wait Down By the Sea for this man to become, this man who lives this life of Sweeney Todd; the man of my creation, me.
I stare in the mirror struggling to open that closed door, wondering and thinking what it’s like out there, out there in the real world and question myself, is it the world for me?
To return from Hell to Earth,
I sold my soul
In exchange for a curse.
I believed it was worth,
Seeing and embracing you again,
Not realizing I was
Further embracing sin.

I'd **** anyone to protect your life,
But you can't recognize me behind,
This red cloaked darkness,
And these horrific green eyes.
I'm better off winning you over
In secret, with a familiar
And lovable disguise.

I'm not who I once was,
Yet I am that man.
I lurk the rat infested hallways,
Praised by the socially ******.

At odds with both Heaven and Hell,
God and the Devil,
And forbidden to return home
And live my former life with you....

Rather, forbidden to
Live a new life with you,
One without suffering and bloodshed.


(c) 2014 Brandon Antonio Smith
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