Here is a twisted tale,
Snickers without fail,
Imagine if he loved me,
Like I love the person, he,
I guess we all have our fantasy,
Some are quite healthy,
Twist in the tale, indeed,
Imagine if he loved me,
Like I love the person, he......

An echo called to me last night
At first I thought it was the cat but he was curled up and sound asleep
So I went to the window that held the moon full and bright
And waited.
And waited a bit more,
But nothing, not even a peep.
I went to sit back down at my desk to attempt a poem
But this time I heard a moan
Was it a moan? Maybe something more like a groan,
So I padded back over to the window with the moon high and bright.
That’s where I saw him.
He had dragged himself from the park
Limping with his broken arm draped over his chest, covering his heart.
I walked over to the cat, stroked his long, warm fur.
Then grabbed my shovel and went downstairs
To finish what I started.

In 2006 I ventured into an old abandoned libary, being an urban explorer I wanted to see first hand the haunting tales of what occured inside one's of occultism, satanic rituals and the paranormal.

I don't remember much of the trip but I can recall I heard a scream that sounded very familiar.

The year is 2016 and I have decided to return. This place so beautiful on my first visit now appears like the tales I was told those years ago. I open the main door now screeching due to the rust that covered the metal.

I make my way through a darkened hall, dimmly lit bulbs blinking providing the limited light. Bleak and the sudden pungent smell of decay, the brick walls once filled with warmth are now wet and cold.

Something is here.

The overbearing smell of rot and death lingers in the already thin air. Gulping....I stop....then proceed forwards. I feel the warmth of a stagnant breath on my back and turn a quick 90 degrees.

Nothing

Turning back to the direction I was originally heading, goosebumps adorn my being. Shaking and saying to myself. GET THE **** OUT GET THE **** OUT GET. THE. ****. OUT... I ignore my better judgement, I'm here to stay.

So I press on determined. I hear the buzzing of flies and I know I'm at the epicentre of the stench.

Bookshelves thrown askew, pentagrams and other ****** graffiti adorn the walls. I look around the room and then I see it...

A foot, I glide over to the foot and proceed from the blooded body stabbed in several places multiple times from the torso all the way to the face.

I stop...frozen in shock

I gasp...

It's not just any face

**It is mine.

I have brought to you your question
Brought to you direction
Listen,
It's not a competition
Don't petition
Resist them
What's your position
Your mind fruition
You list it
Twist it
Missed it.

Erasers, they erase words on paper,
I'm a smoker not a vaper,
saw a bug,
so i sprayed her,
while writing a story of a caper.
Writing words,
made a mistake.
The eraser erases the mistake.
Now the mistake is gone,
time to mow the lawn.
The lawn is green,
which is the grass.
Upon my riding mower,
I place my fat ***.
I then realize that I should go to a gym.
Maybe even go for a swim.
Or visit my friend Jim.
I heard he broke a limb.
I think I will go and visit him.
I hop in my car,
a Dodge Monaco Sedan,
cause I am a really big Blues Brothers fan.
Arrived at Jim's house,
hope I'm not too late,
I made a stop for a burger,
which I then ate.
I ringed the doorbell,
the door opens up,
Jim walks out,
and I hear a "Pop!".
Jim is dead,
he lays on the ground,
I see a bullet shell,
a .45 ACP round.
I soon realized,
my mistake,
for that's the same ammunition,
that my gun takes.
I look down at my hand,
and see my 1911,
I killed Jim,
and sent him to heaven.
I walked home that very day,
underneath the skyscrapers,
Erasers erase words on paper.

A barrage of laughter together
could make the entire world forgive,
a plethora replete with enology, alas

Her last call of opus, starlike
where kingdom was golden, though
she waxed true, when her heart was thunder,
and said her message would only engender
seldom seen or heard rites now expedience that her wealth justly encountered autumnal equinox render such brilliance
huddled only in range and moon here tonight.

It's funny how I wait, for you to find me here.

It's funny how I waited, for you to call me dear.

It's funny that I believed, one day you would be mine.

It's funny that I believe, without you I'll be fine.

What once was my heart, is now a shattered fragment of your cries. What once was your heart, is just a coffin full of his lies.

Take my hand please, let me pull you from the madness. Through my pain and tears I promised to exile your sadness.

So here I wait, my broken heart still yours to fill. Yet forever I'll wait, because you took some pills...

Written By: D. L. Smith 3/14/2016

Submerged in freezing waves
Of foam and bubble.
The iciness brushes over my skin,
Raising goosebumps.

Being underwater
Is like being in a new world.
The feel of bubbles teasing my skin
And the weightlessness of my body.

The beautiful array of my hair
Fanning out in every direction.
It would be so alluring
If the water weren’t pouring into my lungs.