I know the truth about life
There is ugliness
There is pain
There is disdain
It will drive you insane

We will never be good enough
We will always let someone down
It will be because of us that someone will frown
It will be because of us that this planet will die
Yet we all look up and wait for a sign from the one above

We look to the sky to search for hope from the one above
We look to the sky to search for love from the one above
We are down on our knees begging please

Give us beauty
Take our pain
End our disdain
Make us sane

We look to the sky
Yet we cannot see
How we are blind
How we spread misery

We **** for land
We take
We steal
We have blood on our hands
Yet no one understands

We cannot see
The pain
The heartache
The misery

None of us will escape unscathed
None of us will be saved
We will bleed
We will cry
We will die

This is our hell
This is our life
None of us will survive
Life

© Dark Water Diaries

You don’t have to shine tonight,
or be fire,
or dazzle me with light.

If all you can give me is silence,
you are still you,
and that is enough.

I don’t need your strength,
I don’t need your mask —
I only want the part of you
that trembles and still stays.

Even broken,
you are whole to me.
Even quiet,
you are music.

Rest, my love.
I’ll carry the weight awhile.
Love doesn’t demand more:
it simply waits with you,
until you feel yourself again.

The jack-o-lanterns , the chocolate, the fun,
The lies of danger should be over and done.
One family did it to their own little girl
and just once
sure they faltered,
history shows, But Halloween deserves to live in all its glory
the laughter in every street grows.

A story twisted till now, her family the foe, no one else involved anyhow Caught in a lie that everyone seemed to know
. Not strangers ,
not once not ever.
Just one poor family that wasn't that clever.
No one hiding in shadows
not monsters in the dark,
   her destitute kin, their hands left this mark.

Hospitals have known, urgent care has seen,
The truth of Halloween is far from mean.
Safe, joyous, mischievous, costumes that gleam, The streets belong to witches, to pirates, to dreams Fun and silliness careless youth and recorded screams.
An urban legend got demonized an blown out of proportion safety and the love for our kids twisted through the telephone game lens and added distortion .
Its just not true !

I happily did all the research for you.
No records of admittance no insurance claims no weirdos doing bad stuff anyone can actually name or blame.

There never were ANY bad treats

just A bad horror story repeated on every neighborhood street.

All hospitals keep an accurate ledger, even backwoods halls, Even Appalachian urgent care, has NO documented calls.

So dress up, go out , hit up the streets and the malls Put the fear back in the costumes where it belongs let em bob for apples and sing silly songs.

In autumn night, Before ghosts and goblins gave the town such a fright,
Records stood silent, precise and unbending, No claims, no apple admittance no illness or bad will not then, not now, not ever no children’s lives were ending.

Just more 80's satanic panic the buzz **** un ending
its a hollow lie and not worth defending.

So stop the fear-mongering, the horror tales grown stale, Let kids run laughing, let candy prevail.
There never have been any poisoned chocolates no apples that killed, Just friends in the night, chasing thrills
and the thrilled.
Buckets full of love and fun to be filled
and then spilled.
Hoarded or traded at school
so proudly coveted or paraded.

Trick or treat indeed
its the good time we all enjoy and need.

This is the truth easily verifiable so let em have fun and it IS FUN undeniable.
Happy Halloween go out and enjoy it . Spread the truth, not fear and unfounded lies give love and receive love and enjoy a surprise . HAPPY HALLOWEEN !!

The more you lie,
the more your truths
seem less likely.

i bypassed everything and went straight for the neck
not out of cruelty
but because I was tired of pretending
I didn’t want the truth raw
unfiltered
still pulsing
I didn’t want the small talk
the polite detours
the scenic route through your curated grief
I wanted the place where your voice breaks
where the mask slips
where the ache lives without apology
I bypassed the stories you rehearsed
the ones with clean endings
the ones you tell at parties
to make your pain sound poetic
I wanted the version you don’t write down
the one that stutters
the one that bleeds
I bypassed the eyes
the hands
the heart
all the places people say love lives
I went for the neck
because it’s where the pulse hides
where the breath catches
where the body remembers
what the mind tries to forget
I didn’t mean to be violent
I intended to be honest
I meant to say
I see you
without the armor
without the script
without the smile you wear
when you lie
I bypassed everything
because I didn’t want the version of you
that survived
I wanted the version
that still doesn’t know how

Preface
This is not aimed at a single person, nor written for applause. It is a naming, a mirror, a reminder that truth spoken with accountability carries its own fire. The Witness belongs to anyone willing to bear that flame, even for a moment.


This is not accusation, but naming in clarity:
Projection is the currency.
The herd is the instrument.
Seduction is the method.
Obscurity is the shield.

  And when truth enters,
  it unsettles the herd.

The first defense is always the lullaby..
soft verses sung to calm the trembling,
to cradle the anxious back into sleep.
But the lullaby is no vision;
it is anesthesia, a narcotic of words.
It soothes so that no one questions
the darkness that holds them.

Yet the mantle descends where it will.
A word spoken in accountability burns like flame,
piercing the fog, shattering the spell.

Even for a moment, it breaks the hold
and shows the rulers for what they are:

      unclothed,

  powerless,

             undone.